On Friday 3 August the Government Gazette announced that President Mugabe has signed the Interception of Communications Act into law, with immediate effect.

To draw on a MISA-Zimbabwe press statement issued 3 August:

The Act will make lawful the interception and monitoring of communications in the course of their transmission through a telecommunications, postal or any other related service or system in Zimbabwe. The Act also provides for the establishment of a monitoring centre.

An interception warrant, to be issued by the Minister of Transport and Communications maybe applied for by the Chief of Defence Intelligence, the Director-General of the Central Intelligence Organisation, the Commissioner of Police, and the Commissioner General of the Zimbabwe Revenue Authority or any of their nominees.

Service providers, among them Internet Service Providers (ISPs) are required to install systems which are “technically capable of supporting lawful interception at all times.” ISPs will not have long to comply with this law as the Act clearly states that regulations to this effect will be issued within two months of the commencement of this Act.

For more information on the Bill and commentary and analysis around it, have a look at Kubatana’s index of articles on the matter.

It is a draconian, intimidatory and privacy-violating piece of legislation, and the text of it is heart-stoppingly jaw-droppingly stomach-sickeningly blatant in its shameless repression. The government has tried to pawn it off as no different from similar legislation in the US, UK, or South Africa, for example. But what kind of a standard is that? Just because repressive legislation exists elsewhere – even in the so-called developed, established democracies, is that any reason to impose it here?

Essentially, the law legalises what many suspect the state has been doing for years. Whether and to what extent it has the capacity – technically but also in terms of staffing hours, etc – to monitor telephone calls, email exchanges, letters, text messages, and so forth is unclear. But many have suspected the state of surveillance and recording measures long before this Bill was introduced, as the furore around Bulawayo Archbishop Pius Ncube recently reveals.

So the promulgation of the law is not surprising, but it is discouraging. What does it mean for freedom of expression in Zimbabwe? I see it as one more lock on the door stopping people from confidently speaking their minds. Sadly, it is a door many were stuck behind already. Even before this law, we have seen some Zimbabwean activists choose not to publish or speak their opinions openly, opting for anonymity, pseudonyms and silence. As I wrote last year, the ways in which this legislation will further encourage self-censorship are as dangerous as the provisions of the law itself.

The best way to resist it, therefore, is through more voices, more expression, and more openness. That oft-repeated Steve Biko quote remains as true today as ever – the greatest tool of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed. Not to belittle Biko’s legacy on the thirty year anniversary of his death, but the best way for all of us to resist this law is to write what we like – and to write it boldly, loudly and often – and to stand firm in our right to not just write and speak, but to hear and read what we like as well. It’s easy to track down two or twenty or even two hundred vocal, truth exposing, active individual and organisations. Finding twenty thousand, or two million, would be much, much harder.

Amnesty International’s recent report Between a rock and a hard place – women human rights defenders at risk provides a powerful, moving account of the range of issues faced by women human rights defenders in Zimbabwe.

Using a combination of case studies, statistics, narrative, testimonials and photographs, Amnesty takes on some of the high profile instances where such women have been harassed, attacked and brutalised by the state, particularly since 2005. It recounts how Women of Zimbabwe Arise members with small children have been arrested and detained overnight, their babies also kept in custody. In November 2006, “police in Bulawayo used excessive force to disperse over 200 WOZA members participating in a peaceful protest . . . Among the injured were a woman and baby, both of whom suffered broken legs.”

It discusses the September 2006 ZCTU demonstration and the attack on trade union activists including ZCTU first Vice President Lucia Matibenga in detention, in which her eardrum was perforated. With vivid pictures, it describes the 11 March Save Zimbabwe rally in which Sekai Holland and Grace Kwinjeh, among others, were repeatedly beaten while in police custody, which resulted in them being hospitalised for weeks and eventually seeking medical treatment outside the country.

Doubtless had the report come out a few weeks later, it would also have described how, at a recent NCA demonstration in which 254 people were arrested, women with babies on their backs were ordered to put their babies on the ground so that the police could beat the mothers.

But importantly, beyond these high profile accounts, the report describes human rights violations and defence at a much more basic, local level.

As a friend aptly reminded me the other day, there are a host of ways in which human rights are lived, defended and violated each day – outside the realm of politics, laws, or elections around which so many human rights activists frame their debate. There are human rights issues in simply surviving in our current economy – the right to food, the right to water, to health, to shelter and other basic human rights which are confronted in the course of day-to-day activities by women struggling to provide for themselves and their families.

The report uses moving personal stories to convey these struggles – the ways in which women were disproportionately affected by Operation Murambatsvina, the human rights concerns around access to food and housing, and the vulnerability of female headed houses to food insecurity. A 64 year old woman who cares for her six orphaned grandchildren aged 3-18 is denied access to GMB maize by local politicians because she is suspected of being and MDC sympathiser. Irene, evicted first by the farm invasions and then by Operation Murambatsvina is kicked in the stomach by a police officer while she is participating in a WOZA demonstration at the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe in Bulawayo in August 2006, in protest of the “sunshine” currency reform. Two months pregnant, she miscarries whilst in the police cells, and is refused water with which to clean herself. Clara, a 60 year old member of the Women’s Coalition, from rural Chivi is summoned to her chief’s court and found “guilty of being disrespectful to men,” and fined a goat. She refuses to pay, and is subsequently denied access to GMB maize.

In conjunction with the report, Amnesty is promoting its webaction, urging appeals to the Chairperson of the African Union and the Southern African Development Community to call on the government of Zimbabwe to end human rights violations in Zimbabwe.

Around 9pm on Monday 23 July, Zimbabwean journalist Abel Mutsakani was shot outside his Johannesburg home by unknown assailants, and was taken to hospital to recover. He was released several days later, but will have to live with the bullet lodged near his heart – the doctors advised it was too dangerous to remove it.

At the time, it was unclear if Mutsakani’s attack was one more unfortunate incident in South Africa’s struggle with violent crime, of if something more sinister was at play. Bev Clark shared some of City Press news editor and Zimbabwean journalist Japhet Ncube’s comments on professionalism and journalistic ethics in Zimbabwean journalism needs to look at itself. Commenting on Mutsakani’s murder, Ncube noted that most news agencies had chosen a conservative (in his view, professional) angle to the story, stating simply that the motivation for the attack, and the identity of the shooters, remained unclear. He criticised the Cross Border Association of Journalists for jumping to conclusions and labelling the attack a pre-meditated “hit” orchestrated by the Mugabe regime.

I agree with Ncube entirely. Supporting the accurate story – the well-researched and documented story – may not yield as sensational copy, but it does lend longer term respect and credibility to the publication and to the country. We don’t do ourselves any favours when we exaggerate the facts or make baseless accusations.

That old chestnut about the boy who cried wolf stays in circulation for a reason: it’s still relevant. A news agency’s credibility depends upon it finding the truth behind the rumour, analysing it, and reporting it accurately. Civil society organisations whose work includes information development and dissemination need to take on similar standards. This doesn’t mean they have to craft themselves into cold, dispassionate observers. But it does mean they need to respect the difference between being blinded by passion, and telling passionate, fact-based accounts.

So I was interested to read the CAJ response, which falls into the dichotomised “you’re either with us or against us” kind of thinking which paralyses analysis of the Zimbabwe situation. The CAJ essentially argues that Mutsakani was murdered by the government of Zimbabwe on the basis of this syllogism:

1) The government of Zimbabwe has brutalised, tortured and even murdered activists within the country for their political beliefs or activities,
2) The government of Zimbabwe has been vocal and active in its resentment of independent journalists and independent news agencies,
3) Mutsakani used to work for the Daily News, which was known as an opposition voice. When the state closed that, he moved to South Africa and started Zimonline, which regularly publishes reports which expose human rights abuses by the regime
4) The CIO is known to have agents operating in South Africa,
5) Therefore, the regime organised to have Mutsakani killed, and
6) If you disagree with this you are anti the cause of a democratic Zimbabwe and you don’t support press freedom.

CAJ’s second comment states that even more clearly – yes it might well have been “just another” criminal attack in South Africa. But because it’s unclear, and because CAJ supports media freedom in Zimbabwe and the return of Zimbabwean journalists to Zimbabwe, they have decided to blame the attack on the state – more for the propaganda spin than for any commitment to accuracy in reporting, it would seem.

Like Ncube said, it’s hard to speak about all of this without seeming callous or insensitive. And when CAJ, or someone else, comes forward with a bit more evidence, I am sure Ncube, myself, and others will dully revise our positions. In the meantime, what Ncube said in response is spot on: “That a top editor has been shot is a news story in itself, regardless of why he was shot.”

There are lessons here for all of us who work with media and information – where is the line between professionalism and spin, and how do we make sure we don’t start believing our own propaganda?

To view the full text of their exchange:

(more…)

The Indigenisation and Economic Empowerment Bill was gazetted on 22 June 2007, and in his speech to open Parliament on 24 July, Mugabe stated it would be one of the priority pieces of legislation the Parliament would consider.

Critical to the Bill is its definition of “indigenous,” which is “any person who before 18 April 1980 (Zimbabwe’s Independence Day) was disadvantaged by unfair discrimination on the grounds of his or her race, any descendant of such a person, . . .”

Before Independence, all black (and “non-white”) Zimbabweans faced discrimination on the grounds of race – whether they were “indigenous” or of South African, Malawian, Zambian (or Indian or Chinese) or other descent. Ironically, if this Bill is passed as is, one could be considered “indigenous” for the purposes of economic empowerment, but might still not be able to vote, given the changes to the Citizenship Act, which prejudice those Zimbabweans whose parents were not born in this country – regardless of race.

We received these comments recently from a subscriber, looking to spark debate:

It seems our fundamental rights are being violated by the Indigenisation and Economic Empowerment Bill [H.B. 6, 2007] gazetted 22nd June 2007.

It states its purpose as being to create an enabling environment that will result in increased participation of indigenous Zimbabweans in the economic activities of the country, the ultimate objective being a situation in which at least a 51% shareholding in “every public company and any other business” is in the hands of indigenous Zimbabweans.

In the shorter term, the Minister will be empowered to publish statutory instruments prescribing acceptable lesser percentages and thresholds that will apply “temporarily”.

Key terms are defined in clause 2: “business” [company, association, syndicate or partnership having for its object the acquisition of gain]; “controlling interest”; “indigenisation”; “indigenous Zimbabwean” [any person who before 18th April 1980 was disadvantaged by unfair discrimination on the grounds of his or her race, any descendant of such a person, and any company, association, syndicate or partnership in which such persons hold the controlling interest or are the majority of the members].

To my simple mind this definition is clearly a distinction as to race, and even if people were disadvantaged by unfair discrimination on the grounds their race before 18 April 1980, it shouldn’t mean a person should be disadvantaged by unfair discrimination on the grounds of his or her race now merely because they were not so disadvantaged or are descendant of such a person.

It seems especially unfair on descendants considering it has been almost 30 years since 18th April 1980. We also know that these populist policies have already shown their failure in other countries, such as those in South America, many years ago.

This also seems to be in flagrant violation of:-

• United Nations Charter, Purposes and principles Article 1: “and in promoting and encouraging respect for human rights and for fundamental freedoms for all without distinction as to race, sex, language or religion, …”
• the Universal Declaration on Human Rights,
• the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, and
• the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights.

The same subscriber also offered this creative solution on the topic of price controls, and following on from some reports that South Africa might extend the Rand Monetary Zone to include Zimbabwe.

If you want anything on price controls or other populist policies that have already shown their failure here and elsewhere many years ago the ex-Mexican president is a good source. Zambia, Zaire etc. have also had similar experiences.

What about this idea for economic recovery, provided they fix the fundamentals:- Balance of payments support by SA in Rand (obviously some downsides but what the heck, we’re in a mess) but herein lies the twist – start with a higher exchange rate and steadily decrease the rate every 90 days until inflation has stabilized. So say you play around with some noughts and make $1,70 = R1 today and $1,50 = R1 in October, $1,30 in Dec and so on – this eases the cash flow because everyone will want to defer paying and get their forex incomes paid and converted quickly – Z$ becomes the currency of choice.

Reading the news tonight, one email leapt out from the rest and left me pensive, tense and outraged. “Lesbian Killing: We Demand Justice!” read the headline. The press statement condemned the murder of South African women Sizakele Sigasa and Salome Masooa, who were found murdered, execution style, in a dump site outside Soweto. The press statement describes the incident as a shocking event “that is not so new in South Africa in the light of the recent increase in violence and rape against women either identified as, suspected of or supporting lesbian and gay rights.”

My human mind kicked in, of course – how do we know they were lesbians? How do we know they were killed because of their sexuality or their beliefs? I was reminded of the furore a few years back when two teenage boys were sentenced to death in Iran. Human rights and gay rights groups clashed. Were the youths convicted for being gay? Or for raping an even younger boy? Is the death penalty acceptable for murder but not rape? Rape but not homosexuality? For adults but not for teenagers?

But overriding all of that, my human heart kicked in. Do any of those questions matter, really? The basic fact is two women were killed. South Africa might have the world’s most beautiful Constitution, a functional economy, and resources that are the envy of the rest of the continent. But what do any of us – all of us – have to do to get the basics right. It’s not about politics or gay rights or freedom of expression or religious freedom. It’s about real, basic, day to day humanness. Seeing each other as people and therefore deserving of respect and decency.

As I flipped through the pages of the Mail & Guardian looking for more information on the women’s murders, I was reminded of the murder of Zoliswa Nkonyana last year, a 19 year old South African lesbian, whose murder took two weeks to be recognised in the national news. IRIN’s Broken bodies, broken dreams: violence against women exposed was released for women’s day in March last year. How much has changed since then? What is our awareness raising achieving, really?

I was speaking with a friend the other day who was saying that she didn’t want her sexuality to be tolerated, she wants it to be embraced. Me? As much as the colour of my hair or the size of my shoe is not cause for comment or judgment, so I want my skin, my gender, my sexuality to be non-issues. I don’t want to be tolerated. Nor do I want to be embraced. I want to be unflinchingly acknowledged as human. No more and no less.

Ubuntu. A person is a person because of other people. I am because we are. There’s nothing fancy about that.

Thanks to the past few weeks of price controls, shop raids and shortages, things in Zimbabwe are finally looking the way maybe they “should” have been looking for the past several years. Surely, with inflation in the treble and quadruple digits, unemployment at over 80%, a life expectancy that crashed from over 60 years to around 35 years, the veneer of normalcy that a tour through selected parts of Harare can yield needs to be smashed.

But Zimbabweans have shown an incredible resiliency through farm invasions, Operation Murambatsvina, currency reforms, and a host of other plagues the past seven years. Thanks to creativity, initiative, remittances, foreign aid, cross border trading and the black market, people have managed to get by.

And in a way, I suspect its this very make-a-planness that is driving this government crazy. Zanu PF might be the country’s liberation party, but it doesn’t want to govern a liberated people. It wants to govern a people dependent on it, reliant on its patronage, its good will, its whims for its survival. Urban residents and vendors exercising a bit too much initiative? Then launch Operation Murambatsvina to destroy their homes and take away their livelihoods. Hungry Zimbabweans thinking for themselves and going to Botswana, Zambia, Mozambique or South Africa to do a bit of grocery shopping in the face of price controls and shortages? Then ban the importation of foodstuffs and household items without a permit, compromising the futures of cross border traders, their families, and the families that depend on their imports.

The frog in a boiling pot metaphor is beyond cliched in Zimbabwe. But this government doesn’t seem content with merely turning up the heat. It wants Zimbabweans boiled dry. Even if that means there’s no juicy bits left for us, or them.