Diaspora-based opposition activist Freeman Chari says governments cannot manufacture political legitimacy through force, arguing that despite Zimbabwe's opposition being at one of its weakest moments, resistance against Constitutional Amendment Act No. 3 and the broader push for democratic reforms must continue.
In a wide-ranging interview with The Standard senior reporter Miriam Mangwaya (MM), Chari (FC) said history shows political struggles move through cycles of setbacks and renewal, insisting that what he described as an "illegitimate" constitutional process cannot endure indefinitely.
He also dismissed calls for forced opposition unity, saying genuine alliances emerge through shared action rather than political negotiations. Chari also discussed threats against him, the role of the diaspora, and why he believes Zimbabwe's pro-democracy movement is at one of its lowest points.
Below are excerpts of the interview:
MM: You have publicly revealed that you and members of your family in Zimbabwe have been receiving threats. Are you afraid for your safety?
FC: These threats are nothing extraordinary. I receive them almost every day, especially from Varakashi. They do not move me because I fear nothing.
Some of the people who once openly wished me dead have since left Zanu PF. When I meet them, I ask, "Weren't you the same people who wanted me dead?"
Coming out publicly is my way of showing them that I am not intimidated. Over the past two months, the threats escalated, and they even began targeting people close to me. That is why I decided to confront some of those behind the attacks.
Many of them hide behind anonymous or ghost accounts. I have the capacity to unmask them, but it takes time away from more important work. I only do so when there is credible evidence that someone is deliberately targeting people.
I have no problem with people using anonymous accounts. Sometimes anonymity allows people to express themselves more freely. The problem starts when those accounts are used to intimidate or threaten others. That is when it becomes necessary to expose those responsible.
MM: You have been one of the most outspoken critics of Constitutional Amendment Act No. 3. Some people argue that it is easier to speak boldly because you are in the diaspora and not living under the direct control of the Zimbabwean government. How do you respond to that?
FC: That is a fair observation, and it reflects the division of labour within the struggle. People inside Zimbabwe and those in the diaspora play different, but complementary roles. I am strategically positioned to say things that many people on the ground may be unable to say because of the risks they face.
In many ways, I become a mouthpiece for people who cannot freely express themselves. What I say is informed by daily conversations with Zimbabweans living in the country.
Being in the diaspora does not mean there are no risks. In 2023, I believe there was an attempt to launch a denial-of-service attack against my phones, emails, and other systems to disrupt my work. They didn't want me to receive or send texts or calls.
Fortunately, I come from a strong technology background and know how to protect myself. The threats are real, but they come with the territory.
MM: Beyond enjoying greater freedom of expression, how effective is the diaspora in supporting the democratic struggle, particularly at a time when many Zimbabweans are opposing Constitutional Amendment Act No. 3?
FC: Every part of the struggle has its own strategic importance. People on the ground can organise demonstrations, mobilise communities face-to-face, and undertake activities that those of us in the diaspora simply cannot.
The diaspora's contribution is different. We have greater access to information and the internet, and also time. We probably spend only 30 minutes worrying about food or other necessities, but somebody on the ground probably spends maybe four or five times that amount of time worrying about their next meal. Modern political struggles are largely fought through information and narratives, which is why governments invest heavily in propaganda.
We also have greater access to financial resources. Sometimes people facing persecution, court cases, or displacement require assistance, and the diaspora helps meet some of those needs. It is not a case of one side being more important than the other; it is about everyone playing their role within a coordinated struggle.
MM: Opposition leaders frequently engage the diaspora, including recent visits by Tendai Biti and Nelson Chamisa's trip to the United Kingdom. Yet the opposition remains fragmented. What role should the diaspora play in fostering unity?
FC: I actually think unity is often overestimated. We spend too much time talking about bringing everyone together before taking action. That is not necessarily how successful movements develop.
People should continue advancing the causes they believe in. As they do so, those pursuing similar goals naturally become allies and eventually their efforts converge. You cannot simply lock people in a room and instruct them to unite. Genuine unity develops through shared action and common purpose.
That is what happened with Sungano Yevanhu. Different groups were pursuing their own initiatives before realising they were working towards the same objective. At that point, collaboration became natural.
Those who are already moving forward cannot keep going back to persuade or drag those who are standing still. Once others begin moving in the same direction, unity will emerge on its own. What needs to happen is each one of us has to push in our own way.
But at a certain point, we are going to see who is pushing in our direction and who is not, and that's where you start having this coalescing of efforts.
MM: Despite widespread public opposition, court challenges, and petitions against Constitutional Amendment Act No. 3, the government appears determined to press ahead. Where do you see this ending?
FC: I have been involved in this struggle for a long time, and I have seen both its high and low points. After Zimbabweans rejected the draft constitution in 2000, many believed change was inevitable. Later, momentum declined and there were demonstrations attended by only a handful of people.
Then came 2008, when the late former president Robert Mugabe lost the election but violence followed. Yet in 2009, we had the Government of National Unity and in 2013, a new constitution. History teaches us that political struggles move through cycles.
At the moment, we are at a low point. The government appears strong, has access to resources, and enjoys an environment where international pressure has weakened. But legitimacy cannot be created through force.
Court challenges will continue, even if we do not expect immediate victories. They provide an opportunity to keep organising and maintaining pressure. We also support those calling for peaceful demonstrations on July 31. It may not produce immediate results, but sustained pressure remains essential.
This may not be resolved this month or even this year, but illegitimacy cannot last forever. Eventually, there has to be a process of correcting what has happened.
MM: Earlier you said the opposition is at one of its lowest points. What indicators lead you to that conclusion?
FC: First, we are no longer in a position to exert sufficient public pressure to force meaningful reforms. We once had that capacity, but fatigue and events such as the August 2018 violence have left many people fearful.
Secondly, we are dealing with a Zanu PF leadership that appears completely unconcerned about public opinion or international criticism. It acts with remarkable confidence because it believes there will be no consequences. As a result, many Zimbabweans increasingly feel powerless.
What worries me most is that some people are beginning to believe democratic change is no longer possible. Increasingly, you hear arguments that only violence or military intervention can bring change. For those of us who believe in peaceful democratic change, that is deeply alarming. It suggests people are losing faith in democratic processes.
Organising also becomes more difficult because many believe demonstrations are futile or too dangerous. The situation was worsened when many citizens felt their electoral voice had effectively been taken away through the Tshabangu recalls. People had elected representatives, but they watched those choices become meaningless. That has deepened frustration and hopelessness.