The nightmare of Africa’s longest-ruling tyrant.
Oct 31, 2011, Vol. 17, No. 07 • By DAVID AIKMAN
Africa has had its share of brutal regimes and rulers in the past half-century. The apartheid regime of the Afrikaners in South Africa was, for quite a long time, a model of well-planned and methodical dictatorship. The eight-year half-comical/half-nightmarish regime of Idi Amin in Uganda appeared, for a while, to set a new mark in buffoonery, cruelty, and arbitrary violence. Then, when nobody seemed to be paying attention, one of the greatest acts of genocide of the past half-century took place in 1994 in Rwanda, with Hutu militias murdering perhaps as many as 800,000 members of the minority Tutsi ethnic group.
Margaret Thatcher, Robert Mugabe (1988)
As usual, there was much hand-wringing by great powers watching from the sidelines, but nobody came to help the poor Rwandans until all the murdering had already been done. The regime of Robert Mugabe is altogether different. The longest-serving ruler in any African country (since independence in 1980), Mugabe has perpetuated his personal rule by an increasingly vicious series of assaults upon real and imagined opponents. Unfortunately, he has been aided and abetted in his hold on political power by the political establishment of South Africa and other African nations who are so mesmerized by Mugabe’s former leadership of a guerrilla independence movement that they are unwilling to lay a glove on him.
The Fear starts off with the writer, who was born and partly raised in Zimbabwe, returning to the country, as he says in the first chapter, “to dance on Robert Mugabe’s political grave” in 2008. Mugabe had agreed to presidential elections in March of that year; pollsters and observers of all stripes—including Mugabe’s own people—
Godwin’s account is vastly enriched by his personal background in Zimbabwe. He spent many of his adult years as a foreign correspondent for the Sunday Times across the globe, and is familiar with the geography of Zimbabwe and many of its citizens, both black and white. But it is the reporter’s instinct for developing news, combined with the gifts of a deft wordsmith, that renders this so powerful a read.
One example, early on:
The descriptive talents become sharper-edged, however, as Godwin tours hospitals filled with torture victims of Mugabe’s goons, and as he follows the case of one white politician who incurred Mugabe’s wrath for supporting the MDC. One of his friends, Roy Bennett, an almost saintly former white farmer who was jambanja’d—expelled from his land by Mugabe’s “war vets”—and then joined the opposition, was subjected to beatings and extreme privation when in jail, yet retained through it all an amazingly sweet disposition.
Some of Mugabe’s black political opponents fared worse than Bennett, who at least eventually gained his freedom. Godwin interviewed one political activist whose legs were crushed by having them repeatedly driven over by a vehicle belonging to (and driven by agents of) Mugabe’s version of the KGB, the Central Intelligence Organization (CIO). Mugabe has not been reticent about his megalomania: “I am still the Hitler of the time!” is one of his pronouncements. The third presidential candidate in the race actually won by Morgan Tsvangirai, Simba Makoni, has a more modern twist on this dictator theme: “Why have we allowed him to become the Kim Il-Sung of Africa?” he asks Godwin.