I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with Eddie Cross. Much of the time I find his optimism entirely frustrating. However this week he lays bare the litany of abuse that Zimbabwe is experiencing courtesy of Mugabe and his cabal and reminds us that “what we need is not power sharing – that is the least of our worries, its simply a government that will work and start to get the country stable and onto the pathway to recovery.” Read Eddie’s article below . . .

All the debates taking place regarding the SADC sponsored talks to bring about an agreement to resolve the crisis in Zimbabwe center on the issue of political power. In fact that may be the most important issue to some, but its not the main issue at all. The main point of the talks is to secure a workable solution to our economic, political and social crisis.

The basic facts that underlie the crisis is that we have a military Junta running the country that cannot be overthrown by violence or armed insurrection, the political leadership has lost control of the State to this Junta and is now totally discredited, was in fact defeated at the last election but refuses to leave office, spurred on by the Junta.

The regime has totally mismanaged the economy and now it teeters on the edge of disintegration and collapse. This morning the RTGS rate for the local currency was hovering about 5000 to 1USD. This dramatic collapse in a few days points to a number of other forces at work – the flight of capital, the reckless creation of money by the Reserve Bank and the severe shortage of cash with which to make daily transactions.

The collapse of the dollar by 700 per cent since the new currency was issued a month ago, means that while there might have been enough cash to meet needs at that time, the availability of cash notes has simply been decimated by inflation – I would guess that we probably only have the equivalent of US$5 million in cash in circulation in new notes – a drop in the ocean when we probably need US$3 billion. When you think that the new currency cost us Euro 35 million to print – now it has a face value of only US$5 million and next week probably half that again.

Our economy is literally teetering on the edge of collapse – the major retail stores are empty and unable to finance their operations. Parastatals cannot pay their staff let alone other costs. The urban councils are without fuel, chemicals, spares and tyres for vehicles. Their administrations are no longer able to produce accounts or manage their finances. The basic needs of life are not available or unaffordable – the great majority of the population is seriously considering flight to the nearest country they can go to under any conditions.

The government must be in dire straights – they can create money by simply passing credits from the Reserve Bank to local financial institutions that will then pay out salaries to the civil service and the armed forces – if they can get in the door of a bank and then along a queue perhaps 500 to a
1000 people long. When they get there they are paid out in small amounts
(maximum Z$500 worth US10 cents today) and in coins, old bank notes and bearer bonds.

The parallel market – always an immediate and accurate indicator of real market conditions will no longer accept the old currencies for their deals – only the new notes and these are now as scarce as hen’s teeth. In December the regime is committed to withdrawing the old notes from circulation – and then what? No wonder Gono wants to retire when his contract comes up for renewal in November.

And then there is the social and humanitarian crisis. Half our population has no food and no means of earning a living. They must be given their entire requirements for survival. Our hospitals and clinics are run down and dirty, they have no drugs and no blankets and few staff. If you are admitted to a State run facility you must provide everything you need, even food and any medical supplies you might require.

Our State run schools have just opened – 70 000 teachers short of their establishment. Hostels have no food, students no books or writing materials. Teachers cannot even pay for transport to school. Buildings are dilapidated and in most school rooms there are no lights. Children come to school hungry and cannot study because they simply do not get enough food at home.

I was at a meeting of our City Council yesterday – the head of the Cities medical services told us she couldn’t dig graves fast enough to bury the dead. She said they could not get labour to clean the streets or handle waste or dig graves. This situation is repeated across the whole country – the City Engineer said they have 4 days chlorine left in stock, after that, we drink unpurified water, 1,3 million people at risk.

We have the shortest life expectancy in the world, the highest ratio of orphans to population in the world, staggering infant and maternal mortality rates. In a country where we once had one of the fastest growing populations in the world – our death rates from all causes is now so high that our population is shrinking rapidly. In line with this, our economy has also shrunk – every year since 1998 and will decline again this year by at least 10 per cent.

So what we need is not power sharing – that is the least of our worries, its simply a government that will work and start to get the country stable and onto the pathway to recovery. For that we need the following: -

A return to a democratic government that is accountable to the people.

New leadership that is honest, capable and caring.

A government team that will work together and put the country first.

A basic agreement to bring about these conditions that is acceptable to our development partners who are essential to the stabilisation and recovery process.

Today the SADC leadership is in Lusaka at the funeral of the late President of Zambia. Mbeki will almost certainly use this occasion to get a consensus on what is the next step in the SADC/Zimbabwe process. He then travels to Harare to hold talks with the three principals and will try to get agreement on a final deal. Any agreement that does not meet the simple criteria listed above will simply not work. It will not be worth the paper it is written on. Mbeki must know this; it may not be acceptable to the Mugabe group or to Mutambara but it is the only way forward.

Rejoice Ngwenya shares with Kubatana his take on the power plays between Mutambara, Mugabe and Tsvangirayi. In the realm of big boy (or bully boy) politics in Zimbabwe, may the best man win . . .

I do not know as much of Ancient Roman war strategy as I do about Tshaka Zulu’s short stabbing spear and assegai tactics. However, my limited encounter with Prussian and Babylonian siege techniques in the biblical era reveals an amazing tendency for desperate citizens to turn on one another when vital life-support systems have been blockaded. It is human tendency that when the enemy is untouchable, expend one’s anger on the nearest object, even if the object is one’s friend.

Such is the dilemma in which Movement for Democratic Change [MDC] break-away formation leader Professor Arthur Mutambara is in.  For some reason or other, Zimbabwe’s opposition body politic is defined, or rather seen through a Morgan Tsvangirayi prism of excellence. Political integrity, continuity, courage, consistence and persistence can only receive a popular vote of confidence if it confines itself within the Tsvangirayi school of thought.

There are several reasons  for this paradox, one of which is that between 1998 and now, Tsvangirayi has been elevated to a symbol of resistance against Robert Mugabe’s tyrannical rule. Much like in Gene Healey’s “The Cult of the Presidency”, once gullible society sets on a dangerous path of hero worshiping, the leader himself begins to feel and act infallible. This is the curse of mankind. It becomes more dangerous when, like with Woodrow Wilson and Robert Mugabe, such authority assumes uncontrolled military adventurism.

The other is Mutambara’s routine frolic into the murky waters of demagoguery.  Come to think of it, politics is really more words than action. As a signal tune of differentiating himself from Tsvangirayi’s puppet-of-the-west tag, Mutambara has bent over backwards to show that he is a Pan Africanist who can define his own space without Western leverage. This has been necessary. The African Unity [AU] and Southern African Development Community [SADC] have of late assumed a mettle of credibility when it comes to resolution of the Zimbabwe crisis. Since they have been, for want of a better term, contaminated with Mugabe’s anti-imperialism euphoria, African leaders, especially Thabo Mbeki, have developed a soft spot for Mutambara, much to the chagrin of pro-Tsvangirayi extremists. Whether it is by coincidence or design, Mutambara’s anti-West demagoguery has now been interpreted as an extension of Mugabe’s symphony.

And so, at a time when Zimbabwe is about to deliver a political baby, she has, according to anti-Mugabe critics, come too early for MDC. Electronic tongues are wagging in Zimbabwe’s vibrant global websites, mostly against Mutambara who is seen as a spoiler. The vitriol is directed at the professor’s alignment with the rest of Africa – and Mugabe – that Tsvangirayi is asking for too much power. Those in Mutambara’s camp are at pains to remind the world that left to his own devices, Tsvangirayi routinely lapses into Wilsonian autocracy, the main reason why MDC split in the first place. They argue that the cult of leadership reigns supreme at Harvest House [MDC headquarters] where Tsvangirayi can never be seen to err, and if this attitude is brought forward to State House, it will mature into fully fledged national dictatorship.

The last reason is based on pure market politics. Everyone wants to be powerful and for Mutambara, the transition from student activism to national leadership has been swift, though, as some internet sites would want to portray, a short circuit, benefiting from what they term ‘self-cetred opportunism’. Yes, politics is about opportunism. Had Tsvangirayi not exploited an opportunity to be chairperson of the National Constitutional Assembly Task Force Committee, he would still be wallowing in monotonous trade union politics. Mugabe himself displaced Joshua Nkomo as the leader of preferred choice in Zimbabwe’s guerrilla war. The fact that Mutambara has not been part of the mainstream struggle against Mugabe is as insignificant as the demand by the Joint Operations Command [JOC] that they will not salute Tsvangirayi because he lacks liberation war credentials. This world is cruel, you snooze, you loose. Tsvangirayi must accept that he is up against intelligent and skimming competition in Mutambara and Mugabe. May the best man, I mean, political baby survive!

If Mugabe convenes Parliament next week he will violate the recently signed Memorandum of Understanding. Surely this provides an opportunity for united action from both MDC factions? The action being the boycott of the opening of Parliament.

This is a test that Mugabe is setting for the MDC knowing full well that the foundations of the MDC are flimsy and fragile. The scent of a free oxtail and mashed potato lunch after lolling about in Parliament for a few hours will sorely tempt a host of opposition MPs who are likely in it for what they can get. And this doesn’t necessarily equal freedom for Zimbabwe.

If Parliament is convened and if we don’t see united action on the part of both factions of the MDC then Zimbabweans should recognise that we’ve really got our work cut out for us, battling both a bankrupt opposition and a devil of a dictator.

John Eppel amuses with reflections on Cheeky White Madams (CWMs) and their approach to life in the suburbs of Bulawayo . . .

Somalia has its warlords, Zimbabwe has its CWMs or cheeky white madams. When governance breaks down, anarchy looms, and nations revert to tribes, some dominant, many subordinate. In Zimbabwe one dominant tribe happens to be elderly white women who, since that cruciferous plant, woad, with which the ancient Britons stained their bodies, is unavailable in Zimbabwe, use a preparation known as blue rinse. Because they cover themselves from head to food in a crease resistant synthetic fabric called crimplene, it is not possible to determine the extent to which they stain their bodies in the manner of their warlike ancestors, but they certainly stain their naturally grey, silver or white topknots – to the approximate shade of methylated spirit.

Our neighbourhood had been, over the past ten years, declining not unpleasantly into anarchy. We all had at least one illegal rooster on our premises; dogs had metamorphosed from recognizable breeds like labradors and German shepherds to skinny, whippet-like creatures that could survive on grass, known, euphemistically (and anachronistically), as Grey Street terriers; cats had become feral, and lived in storm drains or on the roofs of houses; quacking Aylesburys had been exterminated by hissing Muscovies; nuclear families of four or five had been squeezed out by extended families and their lodgers of twelve or twenty.

Nobody complained when we had noisy parties, which went on all night and well into the next day; or when we built huge, threatening bonfires; or when we felled trees; or when we extended our houses using building materials, which even the most tolerant of city councils would condemn. Nobody complained when our roosters began issuing challenges at one another, continually, from midnight onwards; or when our dogs yapped for hours at the moon; or when our children communicated over crumbling walls at the tops of their pre-pubertal voices. Then Mrs MacSnatch moved in, and all changed, changed utterly.

To continue in the words of the immortal bard, a terrible beauty was born (or, should I say, re-born?), the terrible beauty of civilised behaviour according to the predilections of half a dozen cheeky white madams. Our properties are large, mostly over an acre in extent, and one of these properties was converted into a cluster of upmarket houses, six in all, occupied by influential members of the CWM tribe. We watched the complex grow over a period of about six months, not that we could see much once the two metre brick wall topped with razor wire and an electrified fence had gone up. The occupants we learned, via the reliable domestic worker circuit, were widows of commercial farmers, businessmen, and white collar criminals who had died of unrequited rugby. The youngest was 70, the oldest, 93; all wore crimplene slacks or frocks ranging in colour from mustard to chilli pepper; all had blow-waved blue hair with matching ramified blood vessels. Mrs MacSnatch was their acknowledged legislator.

She began with the roosters (she called them cocks). Each one of us got the dreaded phone call: “Hullo, my name is Valery MacSnatch. I live just down the road from you, and your cock is driving me crazy. I’m not a well person, you know, and I require a good night’s sleep. No sooner have I shut my eyes of a night, than your cock starts its nonsense. I have informed the City Council, and if you don’t do something about that creature immediately, they will be paying you a visit. I have also informed the police. Please, I expect good neighbourliness from you people.” I had been keeping chickens for more than 20 years. This was the first time anyone had ever complained. She had moved into the cluster complex from her palatial Burnside residence a fortnight before.

Then it was the cats (she called them pussies). “Can’t you keep your pussies where they belong, instead of letting them roam the gutters and the roof tops? Yowling like banshees! Pussies like to be stroked, to be rubbed, to be scratched, in short, to be pampered. They do not deserve this neglect. Well, I tell you, and I tell you straight, my friend, the S.P.C.A. will know about this. Mrs Ridgeback is a close friend of mine, and she does not tolerate, I repeat, not tolerate, pet neglect. Honestly, you people!”

Then it was the dogs (bow-wows), and then the children (brats), and then the music (noise), and so on, until our neighbourhood became as quiet as a mausoleum, and as sombre. When the cheeky white madam glides by in her 1956 Humber Super Snipe, on her way to sip tea and nibble ginger snaps with another of her tribe, I breathe relief and turn up the volume – a little – on my new Chiwoniso CD.

Hey, here’s something for you to do on a Friday afternoon. Join the Avaaz action and send Mugabe a red card. You can learn more about Avaaz at www.avaaz.org . . .

Click here to send a red card.

Hopes are slipping away for a deal to resolve Zimbabwe’s political crisis. Yesterday, Robert Mugabe announced plans to ignore the ongoing negotiations with the opposition MDC party, form a sham “Government of National Unity” with a breakaway opposition faction, and open parliament next week.

This weekend, when Southern Africa’s 15 leaders, including Mugabe, meet at a major summit in Johannesburg, they will look out upon a sea of red. Thousands of Southern African trade unionists and other citizens will march to the summit waving red cards — the football penalty symbol for expulsion — and call for Mugabe to go. The organisers have appealed to Avaaz for international support, and will carry signs at the march representing the “red cards” sent by Avaaz members.

The region’s powerful trade unions have threatened that unless Southern African leaders take action now, they will refuse to handle goods coming to or from Zimbabwe and will squeeze Mugabe out. A massive march this weekend backed by 100,000 supporters from around the world will be a overwhelming signal to Southern African leaders that they must act now before the crisis becomes even more desperate — to announce that the Mbeki-led negotiations have failed, and to launch a new and fairer negotiating process immediately.

Four and a half months have passed since the people of Zimbabwe voted for Morgan Tsvangirai and the Movement for Democratic Change on 29 March. Hyperinflation has exploded to an unimaginable 40,000,000%, and millions now face starvation. The EU, US, and UK have pledged a $1.9bn financial aid package to stabilise Zimbabwe’s economy, feed the hungry and combat hyperinflation — but only if Mugabe is removed.

Meanwhile, distribution of food aid by local and international humanitarian agencies has been prohibited by Mugabe’s government. Torture camps remain in operation, political violence continues in some rural provinces, and 12 opposition MPs languish in jail on trumped-up charges. The Mbeki-led talks are collapsing, as Mugabe and his military high command insist on retaining control.

The people of Zimbabwe need strong allies willing to take bold action. Already, more than 300,000 Avaaz members — including tens of thousands in Africa — have signed petitions, donated funds, and written to their leaders in global campaigns for democracy and justice. After Avaaz flew a 280-square-metre banner over an Mbeki-chaired United Nations meeting, South Africa finally called for the release of elections results. In April, trade unions and civil society groups including Avaaz led a successful campaign to block a Chinese arms shipment to Zimbabwe. Now, as the crisis accelerates, our voices matter more than ever — we can send an electronic wave of red cards to Johannesburg and bolster the efforts of on-the-ground advocates pressing for change.

Join the global outcry now.

“Fucking bastards, fucking bastards” my colleague shouts in my ear as we read the latest bullshit proposal coming out of those who mismanage this failed state.

Get this: the Zimbabwe Electricity Supply Authority (ZESA) cannot supply enough power to homes and businesses on a regular basis. This means incessant power cuts. It also means that many people have had to go out and buy generators at great expense. These generators also need to be serviced (often) and they need fuel. Not a cheap endeavour.

However this is now seen as a way for the authorities to make some money. According to The Zimbabwe Independent, “the government has introduced a legal instrument which now makes it an offence to own a generator either for domestic or industrial purposes without the approval of the Zimbabwe Electricity Regulatory Commission (ZERC).”

Apparently ZERC will charge US$ fees for the “verification and inspection” of generators.

Come on Zimbabweans . . . go tell the government where to shove their levies, preferably in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.