ZIMBABWE’S political economy has not merely stumbled through missteps; it has been subjected to a deliberate and reckless laboratory of destructive experimentation.

For three decades, the ruling establishment has cloaked ruinous policies in the rhetoric of empowerment, while in practice executing sabotage against the nation’s institutions, economy and social fabric.

The Economic Structural Adjustment Programme (Esap) of the early 1990s was sold as modernisation, yet it dismantled social services, unleashed mass unemployment and widened inequality.

The War Veterans Compensation pay-outs of 1997 detonated the currency on “Black Friday”, plunging the nation into fiscal chaos.

The Fast‑Track Land Reform Programme, paraded as the zenith of revolutionary justice, was in truth a calculated transfer of privilege. By the late 1990s, the late former president Robert Mugabe, in political recession after 23 years in power, seized upon the unresolved land question not as a genuine act of redress, but as a desperate gambit to salvage its waning power.

Faced with mounting dissent and the surge of a mass‑appeal opposition, the Mugabe administration weaponised land reform to mask its failures and claw back political control.

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In my view, land reform in Zimbabwe was never about justice for the dispossessed because the prime land went not to the landless, but to ministers, army generals, senior police and central intelligence officers and party loyalists rewarded with multiple farms.

Land reform in Zimbabwe was less about justice for the dispossessed.

In one stroke, commercial agriculture, the backbone of the economy, was dismantled, food security collapsed and the nation slid into subsistence. What was sold as empowerment became a spoils system, leaving exports evaporated and livelihoods destroyed under elite capture.

The 2007 Indigenisation Act, hailed as a milestone, quickly degenerated into a parody of empowerment. Instead of broadening opportunity, it entrenched corruption, repelled investment, and birthed a rent‑seeking aristocracy fattened by patronage.

Access to resources was dictated not by merit or innovation, but by proximity to power. By 2008, hyperinflation soared to 79,6 billion percent, a grotesque symbol of self‑destruction. Savings, pensions and livelihoods vanished in a single sweep, turning Zimbabwe from Africa’s breadbasket into a cautionary tale of populist deception and institutional collapse.

This decline was no accident but a systematic demolition over three decades. Each reform was framed as empowerment, yet each became a weapon of disempowerment, hollowing institutions, eroding trust, and driving millions into the diaspora.

Empowerment or elite capture?

The Statutory Instrument 215 of 2025 (Indigenisation and Economic Empowerment — Foreign Participation in Reserved Sectors Regulations) is not a bold new dawn, but the latest chapter in Zimbabwe’s long, tragic script of legislative betrayal.

On paper, it parades itself as a noble attempt to protect Zimbabwean participation in “reserved sectors” such as retail, transport, advertising and bakeries, sectors that touch the daily lives of ordinary citizens.

In principle, the rhetoric of empowerment is seductive, promising to restore dignity and agency to a people battered by decades of economic dispossession, yet in practice, SI 215 is a familiar masquerade: less about empowerment, more about the consolidation of economic control by a narrow caste of politically-connected elites.

The truth is that it is the rent-seekers, the oligarchs, the perennial beneficiaries of Zanu PF’s pre-bendalism networks who stand poised to harvest its spoils. Far from broadening opportunity, this regulation narrows it, weaponising policy as a tool of patronage rather than progress.

It is not empowerment, it is expropriation dressed in nationalist rhetoric, a continuation of the cynical cycle where laws are drafted not to liberate the majority, but to entrench the privileges of the ruling minority.

Catalogue of failure

Zimbabwe’s legislative history reads less like a roadmap to empowerment and more like a chronicle of calculated ruin. Each policy, trumpeted as reform, has in reality been a weapon of destruction wielded against the nation’s economy, society and institutions.

Esap (1991–1995) promised liberalisation, but instead dismantled social services, widened inequality and unleashed mass unemployment. The War Veterans Compensation pay-outs of 1997, framed as justice for liberation fighters, detonated the currency on “Black Friday” and plunged the nation into a fiscal crisis.

The Fast-Track Land Reform Programme (2000 onwards) was heralded as revolutionary redistribution, yet it collapsed agriculture, destroyed food security and gutted export earnings. The Public Order and Security Act (Posa) of the 2000s, cloaked in the language of order, became a blunt instrument of repression, silencing dissent and curtailing freedoms.

The Indigenisation Act of 2007 promised ownership for locals, but instead entrenched corruption, drove away foreign investment, and created a rent-seeking elite.

Even the 2013 Constitution, hailed as a democratic breakthrough, was selectively enforced, politicised, and hollowed out by executive overreach. The Statutory Instrument 142 (2019–2020s) reintroduced the Zimbabwe dollar, sparking fresh currency instability and inflationary resurgence.

Meanwhile, ongoing media and cybersecurity laws have tightened the noose on freedom of expression, institutionalising digital repression.

The pattern is unmistakable: every reform framed as empowerment has been executed as sabotage, every promise of renewal has become a mechanism of decay.

Zimbabwe’s legislative wreckage is not accidental; it is systemic, a deliberate architecture of populist short-termism and authoritarian control, and now, SI 215 of 2025 stands poised to repeat this cycle, cloaked in the rhetoric of empowerment but destined, if history is any guide, to consolidate elite capture, deepen economic fragility and extend the nation’s tragic catalogue of failure.

Patronage as engine of decline

Since the turn of the millennium, Zimbabwe has been governed not by principle or policy but by the corrosive logic of patronage. Zanu PF’s machinery of survival has operated as a conveyor belt of privilege, systematically enriching ruling party elites, military commanders and politically-connected businesspeople while excluding the majority.

The Fast-Track Land Reform Programme, once heralded as restitution, became a spoils system where ministers and generals amassed multiple farms while ordinary citizens were relegated to barren plots incapable of sustaining livelihoods.

The military and security sector, the backbone of regime preservation, was rewarded with mining concessions and lucrative business stakes, cementing its role as both political enforcer and economic beneficiary.

Business elites, tethered to the party, monopolised government tenders and contracts, fuel import licences and mining rights, transforming the economy into a cartel-like playground for loyalists.

Even the youth and women’s leagues, ostensibly grassroots structures, were co-opted into the patronage economy through housing schemes and land allocations designed not to empower but to buy votes and entrench dependency.

Succession politics itself became hostage to patronage networks, determining who rose within Zanu PF not by merit or vision but by proximity to resource flows and factional loyalty.

The consequences have been devastating and enduring: the collapse of meritocracy, the entrenchment of corruption, the exclusion of ordinary citizens from meaningful empowerment and the widening chasm of inequality.

Millions have fled into the diaspora, permanently disengaged from a homeland that offers them no stake.

Even institutions once central to public life, such as the Zimbabwe United Passenger Company, were hollowed out and destroyed, transformed from a backbone of transport into a tool of political control, stripped of professionalism and accountability.

Patronage has not merely distorted Zimbabwe’s economy; it has become the very engine of decline, a system that cannibalises the state, corrodes society and ensures that every reform, no matter how noble in rhetoric, is executed as sabotage in practice.

Nation mortgaged to patronage

The passage of SI 215 of 2025 is not a neutral adjustment to economic regulation; instead, it is a detonator placed at the heart of Zimbabwe’s fragile economy. Its consequences unfold in three brutal waves, immediate, medium-term and long-term, each compounding the other, each deepening the nation’s descent into dysfunction.

In the immediate horizon, the effect is shock and uncertainty: investors flee, capital evaporates and the currency reels under the weight of eroded confidence. Businesses are forced into costly compliance gymnastics, workers face job insecurity and ordinary citizens pay the price in bread queues, transport hikes and retail inflation.

The diaspora, long the lifeline of remittances, hesitates to channel funds into a system that punishes initiative, while foreign investors suspend projects, unwilling to gamble on a market that legislates instability.

In the medium term, the damage metastasises. Deindustrialisation accelerates as foreign capital dries up, leaving hollowed factories and shuttered enterprises in its wake. Monopolies rise, not through innovation, but through political protection and service quality collapses under the weight of inefficiency.

Living standards sink, the brain drain intensifies and the nation haemorrhages its most skilled citizens. The diaspora, once courted as a source of entrepreneurship, retreats in distrust, while foreign investors mark Zimbabwe as reputationally toxic, disengaging from a market that has become synonymous with risk.

The long-term horizon is the most devastating: entrenched stagnation becomes the national condition, chronic unemployment calcifies into generational despair and the informal economy becomes the only refuge for survival.

Small enterprises collapse under the suffocating dominance of politically-protected monopolies, corruption becomes institutionalised and the social fabric frays beyond repair. Ordinary citizens inherit generational poverty and a profound loss of trust in institutions, while the diaspora disengages permanently, redirecting capital and talent to other African states.

Foreign investors, long gone, leave Zimbabwe cemented as a pariah market, isolated, distrusted and trapped in the iron grip of elite capture.

SI 215 is not empowerment; it is a policy of exclusion masquerading as reform, a rent-seeker’s charter that mortgages the nation’s future to the greed of a privileged minority. Its ripple effects will be felt from the price of bread in Harare to investor sentiment in London, ensuring that Zimbabwe’s reputation as a high-risk, policy-unstable environment is not just reinforced but institutionalised.

Broader collapse

Zimbabwe’s collapse is not confined to one sector or one moment; it is systemic, total and enduring. In politics, the concentration of power within Zanu PF has erased the distinction between party and state, hollowing out institutions and normalising authoritarianism.

Elections have become ritualised cycles of violence, not instruments of renewal, entrenching a culture where power is preserved through coercion rather than legitimacy. In the economy, the destruction is equally profound: agriculture, once the backbone of national prosperity, lies in ruins; industries have been deindustrialised into silence; hyperinflation has annihilated savings and pensions; and chronic unemployment has become the permanent condition of a generation.

The social fabric has frayed beyond repair, over three million Zimbabweans have fled into the diaspora, leaving behind a hollowed-out nation where health systems collapse, education is degraded and poverty spreads like wildfire across both rural and urban landscapes.

Internationally, Zimbabwe has been reduced to a pariah: sanctions, isolation and investor flight have severed its ties to global capital and diplomacy, cementing its reputation as a high-risk, policy-unstable environment.

This is not merely a decline; it is a broader collapse, a deliberate dismantling of the nation’s promise, where every sphere of life, political, economic, social and international, has been sacrificed on the altar of patronage and authoritarian survival.

A nation on the brink

Zimbabwe today teeters on the edge of implosion, and Statutory Instrument 215 of 2025 is the accelerant. It is not empowerment, it is counterproductive populism masquerading as reform, a cynical performance of nationalism that in reality opens the economy to rent seekers, entrenches elite capture, and alienates both the diaspora and foreign investors.

The rhetoric of empowerment is a hollow drumbeat, masking the reality that the top 1%, those already fattened by decades of patronage, will harvest the benefits, while the 95% majority sinks deeper into poverty, exclusion and despair.

The youth, restless and disillusioned, are graduating into a void: armed with degrees that have no market, condemned to idleness, drugs and simmering resentment, while ruling elites flaunt obscene luxury in the face of mass deprivation.

This grotesque contrast is unsustainable. Unless corrective action is taken, an implosion spearheaded by the youth is not a distant possibility but an inevitability within five years.

There is no benefit in isolation, no dignity in pariah status and no legitimacy in extractive economic behaviour against one’s own citizens. Zimbabwe must confront its past with brutal honesty, abandon the cycle of destructive populism and recognise that SI 215 is not empowerment but the codification of elite capture.

It is a rentier’s charter, a policy of exclusion that cements Zimbabwe’s reputation as a high-risk, policy-unstable environment, from the bread queues of Harare to the investor boardrooms of London. If history has taught us anything, it is that populism without principle is sabotage and SI 215 is the latest instrument in a long symphony of national self-destruction.

  • Muzengeza is a political risk analyst and urban strategist, providing incisive insight on Africa’s post‑liberation urban landscapes, governance reform and leadership succession.