Few
benefited from the redistribution of farms. Now the issue for a
possible MDC government is whether a small circle of powerful people
will retain ownership of seized land.
HARARE, ZIMBABWE -- When Ishmael Dube got his own small plot of land,
it felt like justice. He'd grown up a black child under a racist white
regime when this country was called Rhodesia. Half his youth was
gobbled by darkness: war and prison.
He
got the farm in 2000, two decades after Zimbabwe's independence from
Britain, when President Robert Mugabe urged liberation war veterans to
invade white farms. For the war veterans, it was a time of exhilaration
and violence. For white farmers, it was a time of bitterness and terror.
"When the land invasions started happening, people were excited," Dube
said. "When we were fighting, land was one of the things that we were
fighting for."
But
Dube lasted just one year; farming was much more difficult than he had
expected. After 12 months, the veterans were evicted from the land by a
ruling party heavyweight.
Mugabe, who has ruled since 1980,
often draws on land, history, blood and race in the bitter liberation
rhetoric that peppers his speeches. He called the March 29 elections a
new phase in the war over land, describing the opposition as British
puppets poised to give back property to white farmers.
But the
dire warnings are no longer working. Even many of the war veterans, who
helped Mugabe oust the British and stay in power for nearly three
decades, aren't listening. And that could mean the end of the
liberation hero's long reign.
"People have seen through that kind of cheap propaganda," Dube said.
Mugabe's
rhetoric about land and the liberation war now has a tiny, but
extremely powerful, circle of supporters: the cronies who still have
farms, mainly Mugabe relatives, ministers, generals, judges and
intelligence, police and security chiefs. Many of them own several
farms, most of them unproductive.
"Mugabe is now losing, because
of his greed," said Percy Gombakomba, 53, a war veteran and former
bureaucrat in the president's office. "I believe that if Mugabe walked
in the streets, he would be stoned.
"People ask, 'Why did you go
to war? What were you fighting for?' If you say you were fighting for
the land, they will laugh at you."
So few have benefited from
the redistribution that Mugabe's broader support has been undermined
among traditional allies such as the war veterans. But he was careful
to ensure that the top military and security commanders, on whom he
relies for protection and survival, got one or more farms.
With
Mugabe looking increasingly precarious, analysts believe that in the
end it will be the "securocrats," the 20 or so commanders who form the
strategic Joint Operation Command, who will determine whether the
president goes.
Mugabe began the land seizures in 2000, after he
faced his first serious political threat: the emergence the year before
of the opposition Movement for Democratic Change from the union
movement, supported by white farmers.
Last month, Mugabe's
regime began a new wave of evictions of the few remaining white farmers
after it lost control of parliament for the first time since
independence in 1980. He sent out security forces in a campaign of
intimidation against farmers, opposition supporters and activists.
But
many influential Mugabe supporters in the ruling ZANU-PF party don't
believe the violence is working this time. Most believe that Mugabe
will lose an expected second round of voting in the presidential
election.
"I think we allowed corruption to go uncontrolled to
the extent that it affected the majority of the people," said one
influential ruling party figure and war veteran who spoke on condition
of anonymity. He said public support for Mugabe had eroded because of
corruption in the ruling elite.
"They're saying if you live with thieves and protect them, you are also a thief."
One
reason Zimbabwe's economy imploded was Mugabe's failure to manage the
expectations of war veterans. The more he revisited the liberation war
rhetoric, the more the veterans expected pensions, land, businesses or
jobs.
War veteran Gombakomba said Mugabe should have given them "a good reward" for their wartime sacrifices.
"That's
why we thought of grabbing the farms. People had to jump into farms
before they saw any fruits of the liberation struggle," he said. But
after Mugabe paid out lump sums to war veterans in 1997 and pledged
monthly pensions, the Zimbabwe dollar collapsed, never to recover.
When they seized farms in
2000, war veterans such as Dube had no idea how to farm. There was no
hope of bank loans for equipment without title deeds to use as security.
Agricultural production, the country's biggest export earner, fell and the economy lurched further into crisis.
Gombakomba and eight war comrades invaded a farm near Lake Kariba. He
said the owner had fled to Zambia. But like Dube, he did not last long.
"The
thing is, I was never a farmer myself," he said. "I didn't know what
farming was, to tell you the truth. And there was no equipment, no
financial support. It was difficult. And that's when we began to
understand that farming was not a picnic.
"We had the place for
two years. We wanted to put in soya and maize but when we were ready
for plowing, a big man came from the president's office and we had no
power and we were chased off.
"One by one, all the farms were given to these bigwigs."
Belatedly,
Mugabe's regime is trying to the counter the widespread cynicism over
the redistribution with promises to hand over more farmland.
Twice
before the recent elections, a ruling party chief offered Dube and his
friends a new farm in place of the one confiscated in 2001. They
refused, seeing it as a belated effort to buy back their support.
"He
tried to convince us to return," Dube said. "But even if we went back
to the land, what were we going to do? There's no equipment. We simply
said we were angry with the first decision."
As the
farmer-generals contemplate the ruling party's defeat, what worries
them most is losing their farms. When it comes to land, most of them
distrust MDC leader Morgan Tsvangirai, the senior ruling party figure
said.
Without a clear guarantee from Tsvangirai to army commanders that they can keep the land, "there will be chaos."
"And
if, as soon as he comes in, he tries to reshuffle the army, he won't be
able to control them. There will be chaos, serious chaos."
robyn.dixon@latimes.comDixon recently was on assignment in Zimbabwe.