In a New York Times article last year, an unidentified politician commented on Robert Mugabe. As a fellow member of the ruling party, the politician used affectionate words to describe a man once hailed around the world as a savior capable of bringing together diverse interests and races in a united government: “The old man wants to leave a legacy,” the politician said. “He’s in the twilight of his life, and he wants it to be remembered that he left something to Zimbabweans.”

Yet as we wait for the results of an election that took place over 10 days ago, it is clear that Mugabe’s only legacy will be a perverse system of oppression in which only his close aides benefited from his despotic regime. After the political, social, and economic devastation of the last decade, it will now be up to neighbouring African states, as well as Western powers, to create incentives for the next Zimbabwean “savior” not to end like this one.
In Mugabe’s empire, Zimbabwe lives in arrested development: There is absolute official control of the public sphere, coercion of racial and cultural minorities, drowning of opposition voices, a reigning economic elite subjugating poor masses, and paranoid conspiracy theories about “Western imperialism.” It was not always like this.

When Ian Smith’s all-white Rhodesian regime ended in 1980, a British lord was appointed to oversee free general election and the disarming of revolutionary militias. Leading a coalition, Mugabe won those elections and the future of Cecil Rhodes’ once-legendary African enclave seemed democratic and prosperous. Unlike its regional neighbour, apartheid South Africa, Zimbabwe had a representative government, a concentrated but rich agro-exporting sector, and a rising mining industry. Perhaps more importantly, Mugabe inherited an equal-access educational system that was the envy of its neighbours, sending talented students to elite universities in Britain and America, where even today Zimbabwe is much better represented than other African states.

Somewhere along Mugabe’s 28 years of unchecked rule, however, Zimbabwe lost its way. Within a year of coming to power, Mugabe signed a deal with North Korea to have a military unit trained by war-hardened Asian communists. The Korean-trained brigade was responsible for a brutal ethnic cleansing campaign against a racial minority, the Ndebele, who had sought autonomy from Mugabe’s increasingly authoritarian rule. The campaign was baptized “Gukurahundi,” which in the language of Mugabe’s racial majority, the Shona, means “cleansing rain.” Mugabe’s aggressive policies were not merely internal. Along with other African success stories like Angola and Libya, Zimbabwe sent troops to the Second Congo War in 1999, where Mugabe’s family had recently acquired mining contracts worth hundreds of millions of dollars.

In 2000, amidst opposition cries of rigged elections, Mugabe launched a dictatorial land reform that obliterated productivity. But rather than benefiting disenfranchised black peasants, the program left Mugabe’s inner circle of political allies with much of the land. With the main source of hard currency in shambles the spectacular crash of a once-thriving economy, inflation took off. The government printed trillions of dollars, and inflationary expectations became embedded in the economic cycle.

Although it remains far from Weimar Republic levels, inflation in Zimbabwe today hovers around 10,000 percent annually. The same political favorites that control seized farms, however, can still get American dollars at the official rate, making instant and gargantuan profits. As in any inflationary crisis, middle and lower class workers with fixed salaries suffer most, and according to some estimates, a third of the country now depends on the World Food Program for daily sustenance. Unbelievably, life expectancy in Zimbabwe has declined 30 years in just over a decade.

With the excuse of fighting infectious diseases, the regime launched Operation Murambatsvina in 2005, clearing slums across the nation under the slogan of “driving out the rubbish.” In effect, it was mainly targeted against the support base of the Movement for Democratic Change, a party that eventually challenged Mugabe in the March 29 elections.

Mugabe’s militias, the so-called “war veterans” who are usually 20 years too young to be war veterans, have become experts in silencing opposition. Meanwhile, the co-opted national media talks about the heroic government struggles against Western imperialists seeking to regain control of the country. For instance, in 2003 Mugabe declared the Internet to be a tool of Western imperialism perpetuating “the iniquity of hegemony” during a UN conference. What he forgot to mention was his monopoly on Zimbabwean media outlets. At least the Western imperialists build fine cars, something Mugabe, who arrived at the opening parliamentary session last year in a Rolls Royce, can appreciate.

It is unlikely the octogenarian dictator will successfully rig this election after almost two weeks of inexplicable delays in releasing results. By ballot, death, or something in between, Mugabe will be out soon. As the international community prepares to help a future government rebuild Zimbabwe, it is crucial to acknowledge that in the developing world, the line between saviors and despots is a thin one. Mugabe ended up building his own version of what he hated most. His nightmarish rule has featured one too many policies characteristic of an illiberal colonial power. Considering his aggressive foreign policy, his ethnic cleansing campaigns, the role of his economic elite, and his iron-fisted rule, Mugabe’s legacy bears comparison with only the worst empires of old.


Pierpaolo Barbieri ’09, a former Crimson associate editorial chair, is a history concentrator in Eliot House. His column appears on alternate Thursdays.