THE WEEKEND INTERVIEW
'We Who Believe in Democracy'
Is there hope for a new Zimbabwe after Mugabe? This man is staking his life on it.
Zimbabwe is in the news this weekend as its 83-year-old strongman, Robert Mugabe, arrives in Lisbon to attend his first European Union summit meeting in seven years. His appalling human-rights record has led British Prime Minister Gordon Brown to boycott the meeting.
While the spotlight has not recently been on this deeply troubled land, there are dissidents who do not want the world to forget. Earlier this year I met with one of them, a tall, charismatic 41-year-old who attended the Aspen Ideas Festival, an annual chatfest of thinkers and well-heeled idealists sponsored by the Aspen Institute.
But Arthur Mutambara, who leads one of the main opposition groups fighting the Mugabe tyranny, wasn't in the Colorado Rockies to exchange pleasantries. He startled the crowd with blunt language that isn't normal parlance for politicians from the developing world.
"We Africans are responsible for our problems, and we must take charge of our lives," he said in a commanding, deep voice reminiscent of James Earl Jones. "We must move away from aid to genuine investment. We must ensure that after getting rid of a dictator we plant deep roots for the rule of law and actually improve the lot of the people. So when we who believe in democracy triumph, I ask you to judge us harshly if we fail to live up to our promises."
The crowd responded with a standing ovation. And while it might be a performance, it was a refreshing one.
I've had a soft spot for Mr. Mutambara's beautiful country since I visited Zimbabwe in the 1980s and observed its largely peaceful and successful transition from white domination to black rule. But all that has changed.
Even before the final collapse of apartheid, Mr. Mugabe massacred 25,000 members of the minority Ndebele tribe using his North Korean-trained troops. He then created a virtual one-party state after political rival Joshua Nkomo fled the country, fearing assassination.
Mr. Mugabe didn't touch the economy or basic civil liberties until 2000, when--following voter rejection of his proposed constitution--he initiated the confiscation of private farmland. The confiscation has led to famine, police terror and prompted at least one quarter of the country's 12 million people to flee.
Mr. Mutambara led student demonstrations against Mr. Mugabe's corrupt Zanu-PF party at the University of Zimbabwe until 1991, when he won twin Rhodes and Fulbright scholarships and departed to study science at Oxford. He received a doctorate in robotics in 1995 and went on to become an associate professor at MIT, a visiting scientist at NASA and a management consultant at McKinsey. Today, he is a man with a mission.
"My work overseas was fascinating, but I never forgot my homeland or that I would return to it," he told me as we walked around the Aspen Institute's grounds. He did go back in 2005 and promptly plunged into politics--a field that, this man of science and business admits, often defies rational analysis.
"Too many countries see meaningless changes in leadership," he says. They need a transformation that has both form and substance," he adds, his eyes flashing and his frustration obvious.
In early 2006 Mr. Mutambara was elected leader of a breakaway faction of the Movement for Democratic Change, the main opposition party founded in 1999 by Morgan Tsvangirai, a labor organizer. But Mr. Tsvangirai eventually alienated many of his party's members with his perceived highhandedness.
Today, Mr. Mutambara and Mr. Tsvangirai each head factions with a roughly equal number of seats in parliament. They bitterly disagree on how to dislodge Mr. Mugabe, and the two men alternate between solidarity and rivalry. In March, both were arrested, tortured by Mr. Mugabe's secret police and then paraded together before a court before being released. But only weeks later they were trading insults.
Mr. Mutambara accused Mr. Tsvangirai of being "an intellectual midget," and in turn was attacked for being absent from the country for years while his people suffered. Both men agree on the need to present a united front in elections that are scheduled for next March--but their failure to nail down how only makes the job of Mr. Mugabe, a past master at vote-rigging and intimidation, all the easier.
The ruling Zanu-PF regime has just passed a new law allowing phone calls and emails to be monitored. Another law will gerrymander parliament in its favor.
Mr. Mugabe also has no intention of letting the three million expatriate Zimbabweans vote. He is fully aware of how election rules can be rigged to frustrate popular majorities: In 1948, the white National Party first came to power in South Africa losing the popular vote but winning a parliamentary majority of underpopulated rural seats. Apartheid and the stripping of the right to vote from Indian and mixed-race voters were in part a National Party strategy to ensure it would win all future elections.
Mr. Mutambara's hope is that leaders of the 14-country Southern African Development Community will be able to pressure Mr. Mugabe into agreeing to new election rules, and international supervision of the March vote in exchange for help in staving off economic collapse. Thabo Mbeki, South Africa's president, has been leading talks between Zanu-PF and the opposition MDC.
So far only minor progress has been made, but Mr. Mutambara says, "I believe Mbeki wants to build a legacy as a regional peacemaker. He also knows that South Africa can't hold a truly successful World Cup [soccer championship] in 2010 if its neighbor to the north is engulfed in chaos."
It's hard to describe the chaos that Zimbabwe is slipping into. The International Monetary Fund reported last month that inflation could reach 100,000% in a matter of weeks. Mr. Mugabe has responded by arresting 7,500 people for violating his price controls.
Meat, produce, cooking oil and basic medicines are usually available only on the black market. The United Nations estimates that four million Zimbabweans will need food handouts by next year. A high-school teacher admitted to the London Times that she is selling sexual services to Mugabe henchmen, along with "three-quarters" of her colleagues, in order to buy food for her children.
Nonetheless, it was still jarring this summer to hear Archbishop Pius Ncube, the head of Zimbabwe's one million Catholics, openly call on Britain, the former colonial power, to invade the country: "I think it is justified for Britain to raid Zimbabwe and remove Mugabe," he told Western reporters. "We should do it ourselves but there's too much fear. I'm ready to lead the people, guns blazing, but the people are not ready." But that may be slowly changing.
Zimpundit, a local blogger who remains anonymous for obvious reasons, says the fact that both Messrs. Tsvangirai and Mutambara have been brutally beaten has changed the public's attitudes toward demonstrations and strikes.
"People feared them because they felt they were being used as political pawns by leaders who didn't want to endure the wrath of the police on their own," Zimpundit writes. "Tsvangirai and Mutambara have, because of this [torture] gained more credibility with people. Look for this to spawn more protest."
That's just as well since, of course, there is no prospect of a British invasion. But British Prime Minister Gordon Brown should consider creating a foreign aid package that would be contingent on Mr. Mugabe's departure. An offer such as this could act as an incentive for Mugabe's underlings to overthrow him and restore some sanity to the economy.
I ask Mr. Mutambara about his own plans for Zimbabwe's economy should the opposition take power. "First, we implement a stabilization plan to stop the rot," he says, counting off on his fingers, "pegging the currency to something of real value is top priority. Second, a plan to restore the half of our economy that's been destroyed.
"Bringing in honest judges to enforce contracts and reassure investors is key. Third, we need to bring in scientific expertise to restore our place as a breadbasket of Africa and create a manufacturing base that can compete on cost and quality."
How big a role does he envision free markets playing in a new Zimbabwe? "I appreciate the success you get when people can create wealth. Fifty years ago, Singapore had the same GDP as Ghana. Now it has a per-capita income greater than Germany, France or Britain," he notes. "Our economy should be liberated, we need creative dreamers who do not fear globalization."
But when it comes to details, Mr. Mutambara admits there will be healthy elements of a mixed economy--he sees key sectors such as railroads remaining in state hands. As for Mr. Mugabe's lawless confiscations, white farmers who saw their land seized and fled the country shouldn't expect to get it back, though Mr. Mutambara is intrigued by voucher schemes that were used in Eastern Europe to partly compensate victims of communist expropriations.
What about the treatment of Mr. Mugabe's collaborators once his regime has fallen? "No blanket amnesty, if you've committed genocide there will be responsibility," he says. "But there are aspects of what South Africa has done that we can learn from. Their Truth Commission allowed victims to confront their oppressors, receive some restorative justice and then move on."
Mr. Mutambara is himself constantly in motion at Aspen, alternately speaking as a freedom fighter and a politician who clearly wants to appeal to both liberals and conservatives in the West. At one Aspen event he waxes lyrically about the need to strive for "collective humanity, global sovereignty and global dignity," a string of empty buzz words that nonetheless leaves a warm glow with his audience.
At another panel, participants debate if curbing global warming will be compatible with economic growth. He nods enthusiastically as a speaker points out that the hundreds of millions of Africans who have never turned on a light switch won't tolerate being left behind economically if the world pursues carbon caps.
"A person living in Darfur can't afford to be green," Mr. Mutambara reminded the audience during the Q&A.
As Mr. Mutambara prepares to pack to fly home to Zimbabwe, I ask him about his own safety. Doesn't he worry about what the regime could do to him?
He says he would if he weren't convinced the Zanu-PF leaders are "both moral and physical cowards" who are unsure of what might happen if prominent opposition leaders such as himself are killed. It is also a relief to know his wife and children are in South Africa while he is on the front line.
But he recognizes the risks he faces every time he returns. "After all it was your Founding Fathers who said, 'give me liberty or death,' " he says, flashing a broad smile. "I plan to gain the first, but I know I have to risk the second to get it."
Mr. Fund is a columnist for OpinionJournal.com.
