From the ArcaMax Publishing, Politics Newsletter:
http://www.arcamax.com/news/politics/s-373076-513475
If you've been following the sad news in Zimbabwe, you will hear the
irony in the name of its capital city, Harare. In the language of the
Shona people. It means "One who does not sleep."
When I slipped into Zimbabwe a few years ago as a board member of the
New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists, I slept restlessly
out of fear of being arrested. President Robert Mugabe had shut the
door on visas to outside journalists. Since then attacks have
increased against the press and anyone else who does not toe Mugabe's
political party line.
And Zimbabweans sleep more fitfully. Some of the reasons are spelled
out in a list of the Zimbabwe's dead, compiled and distributed by
Mugabe's political opposition to international media and reported by
Paul Salopek, the Chicago Tribune's prize-winning Africa
correspondent.
There's a man who was attacked and beaten after sitting down to eat
dinner.
There's another killed while tending his garden.
There's a woman whose targeted husband was not home, so she was killed
as a warning to him.
There's another woman who was locked in a room at the shopping centre
and burned with plastic all over her body and in the mouth.
A man was given rat poison and, when that wasn't enough to kill him,
he was slaughtered with an axe.
More than 80 known victims were killed in the run-up to Mugabe's June
27 sham of a reelection. The carnage and intimidation have not
stopped. The country's economy is a wreck. It takes millions of
Zimbabwean dollars to buy a loaf of bread, and the prices go up every
half hour or so. As many as 80 percent of the workers are unemployed.
Peaceful sleep is a luxury.
Morgan Tsvangirai, the opposition leader, was poised to win the
runoff, despite Mugabe's best vote-stealing efforts, but withdrew to
stop the brutal state-sponsored attacks against thousands of his
supporters.
At 84, Mugabe clings to power against all pretense of carrying about
the lives or liberty of his country's people. He cares only for power.
It wasn't always like this. I remember when Mugabe was viewed as one
of Africa's brightest postcolonial hopes.
Like South Africa's Nelson Mandela, Mugabe was imprisoned for opposing
white-minority rule. Freed in 1975 after 11 years in prison under the
breakaway British colony of Rhodesia, he led a resistance movement
that ended with his election in 1980 as prime minister of the newly
named Zimbabwe.
But power corrupted him. In the early 1980s, his special forces,
assisted by the North Korean army, massacred an estimated 20,000
members of the Ndebele tribe who supported a rival leader. In 2000 he
defended the seizure of land from white farmers by self-proclaimed
"war veterans." The country deteriorated rapidly from food exporter to
food beggar.
Ian Smith, white Rhodesia's last prime minister, observed poignantly
before his death last October, "I was wrong about Mandela, but right
about Mugabe." Indeed, Mugabe's always been on his best behavior only
as long as his own power is not threatened. Subject him to something
so humbling as an honest election and, as far as he's concerned,
everybody gets hurt.
He paints himself as Africa's champion. That's a mockery of the
Pan-African dream for which he once stood. Instead he's a
retro-throwback to the old Big Man system of kleptocracy and
pseudo-democracy: "One person, one vote, one time."
So Nelson Mandela, the Rev. Jesse Jackson and Sen. Barack Obama have
condemned his violence? So, the United Nations Security Council have
joined the condemnations? So, the Queen of England has revoked his
knighthood? So, you think Mugabe cares?
Mugabe cares only for power and, perhaps, keeping himself and his
cronies for having to answer for war crimes at The Hague. Instead,
he's coddled by bodies like the African Union.
At last week's AU meeting in the Egyptian resort of Sharm El-Sheik,
the presidents of Kenya and Senegal were most prominent among the few
who sharply rebuked Mugabe for embarrassing the continent. Most of the
African Union urged a power-sharing deal between Mugabe and
Tsvangirai. But, like resolutions the UN and others have passed, it
had no enforcement teeth.
Zimbabweans still wait in vain for what they really need to hear, a
strong rebuke of Mugabe's arrogance from their neighbor, South
Africa's President Thabo Mbeki. As the region's designated negotiator
in the Zimbabwe crisis -- and president of the region's biggest
economic and political powerhouse -- Mbeki could almost
single-handedly persuade Mugabe to retire to a comfortable villa
somewhere.
Through carrot-and-stick threats of international sanctions against
the landlocked Zimbabwe and Mugabe's cronies, Mbeki could save his
legacy and Africa's future. Instead, Mbeki behaves, in the words of an
old African fable, like a mouse in the pocket of Mugabe's elephant
while the grass suffers -- and does not sleep.
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E-mail Clarence Page at cpage(at)tribune.com, or write to him c/o
Tribune Media Services, 2225 Kenmore Ave., Suite 114, Buffalo, NY
14207.