MANY times — in fact, quite often — the hardest thing to do is the most right thing to do.
By Conway Tutani
When 40th United States President Ronald Reagan (who was in office from 1981 to 1989) insisted on going to a private function to which he had been invited by a close friend, but tainted politician, his then Chief of Staff Donald Regan told him: “Fine, you can take a walk,” meaning Reagan would have to find his own transport there as no official motorcade that would be provided. Suffice to say, Reagan got the message loud and clear and stayed put in the White House? Imagine President Robert Mugabe waving down a taxi or kombi just outside State House? Reagan must have wiped some cold sweat from his brow. That’s what hitting hard with good intentions is all about.
That is the burden of political advisers who are often called upon to tell their boss straight in the eye or straight in the face to: “Stop it!” Of course, being an adviser is risky business, particularly so in the ruling Zanu PF, because you could easily be labelled as being “anti” by merely pointing out scenarios that could be perceived as working against the interests of your boss, especially in these paranoia-filled times.
So, should I spare Mugabe’s advisers such a dangerous task? I will try on their behalf lest they be labelled “Gamatox” or MDC-T. The system does not take kindly to criticism, even from within, whereas honest-to-goodness criticism is often the best tonic all round.
During the burial of High Court judge Justice Andrew Mutema at the National Heroes’ Acre last Saturday, Mugabe walked with the aid of his wife, First Lady Grace, taking several brief stops for rest as he followed the funeral procession. To me, it was no laughing matter.
The previous day during the official opening of the Harare Agricultural Show, Mugabe moved around with the assistance of Mozambican President Filipe Nyusi, who had been invited to officially open the show. It’s not usual to have your guest do that. Does diplomatic protocol have provision for that? Even if it doesn’t, someone nearest to Mugabe had to come to his aid. It’s only human to do that.
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Not only that, the President has suddenly stopped making long speeches not by choice, but forced by advanced age and failing health.
Things are certainly not well with Mugabe, but then, it’s not surprising because with him now 91 years old, the combination of age and health issues is inescapable and unavoidable.
But the signs have been there for long. This came out sharply during the power-sharing signing between Zanu PF and the MDCs in February 2009.
The much younger MDC-T leader Morgan Tsvangirai looked fit and focused for the occasion; so did the even younger then MDC leader Arthur Mutambara. Mugabe, already 85 then, in stark contrast, looked old, leaning on the podium for support; and lost, as heard in his incoherent, rambling speech despite being highly educated and his reputation for eloquence.
That X-factor, that extra something, that something special, was being slowly, but surely blunted by ageing. I, being in the least sadistic, felt pity for him. Seven years down the line, it can only get drastically worse — and that’s exactly what is happening. A Head of State should not be reduced to become an object of pity.
But even those closest to him have not been helpful at all in all this, one of them being Zanu PF politician Patrick Zhuwao.
Zhuwao, as Mugabe’s nephew, should really be advising his maternal uncle to call it a day rather than declare that Mugabe is more than ready for another go at the Presidency come 2018, meaning that in the event that he wins, he would be 99 years old by the time he leaves office in 2023. This is the sort of unenviable record that no country would want to hold.
As it is, Mugabe is old and infirm enough, what more in eight years’ time when he is just one year short of a century? Let’s be honest and practical and admit that it’s the worst scenario that we could bring upon ourselves with our eyes wide open.
Mugabe is clearly past his prime. He is no more up to the physical rigours of his demanding office. What we are now seeing are bursts of energy — no more than that. He is now a pale shadow of his former vibrant, sharp self. If he persists, he is in real danger of descending into a caricature of what he once personified. No one is being sardonic, sarcastic or seditious.
Time was when Mugabe was still in his ’70s when he would boastfully and convincingly say to his critics and detractors: “I am a young old man.” The physical energy was there and the mental alertness was in abundance. His health and fitness pointed exactly to that.
Now it’s a far cry from that. Mugabe cannot joke about his age anymore because it has become a heavy encumbrance, severe handicap, big minus. The less he refers to it, the better. It’s no more a laughing matter.
It’s not designed to mock, undermine or inflame people against Mugabe notwithstanding that his electoral wins since the 2002 presidential poll have been highly controversial and strongly disputed as being unfree and unfair.
Zhuwao’s bold declaration is equal in its absurdity to Higher and Tertiary Education minister Jonathan Moyo’s proclamation in 2009 that Mugabe should be allowed to die in office. Moyo’s rationale, to be generous to him, was that since Zimbabwe’s first three Vice-Presidents — Joshua Nkomo, Simon Muzenda and Joseph Msika — had died in office, so should Mugabe.
Said Moyo: “When they died, they were all occupying the office, but not discharging their duties. Why should the remaining one be treated differently?”
This is most puzzling and shocking because incapacitation of any sort is sufficient grounds for stepping down from office in any sphere of life. Such precedent set by Mugabe ought to be broken if Zimbabwe is to move forward because it serves no practical purpose except to pull the nation down. In 2013, in an unprecedented move, Pope Benedict’s official resignation statement from the highest seat in the Roman Catholic Church, cited his waning physical and mental powers as the reason.
“I have to recognise my own incapacity,” the Pontiff said. But Moyo prefers to see otherwise, making a positive and virtue of incapacitation.
With such an inner circle, Mugabe won’t face up to the reality that his best years are behind him. Old age and failing health has greatly incapacitated him.
The pitiful sight of Mugabe holding on to his wife for balance at such a big public event pointed to one thing: Long overdue retirement. Even Nelson Mandela was younger than Mugabe when he retired from the South African Presidency in 1999 at 81.
“The Church needed someone with more physical and spiritual energy,” said Father Federico Lombardi, the spokesperson for the Papacy, in the wake of Pope Benedict’s resignation.
Mugabe — like the good, lifelong Catholic he proudly professes to be — has to similarly call it quits because his situation is no more different from that of the departed Pope.
