Africa Watch
SECURITY BRIEF
DISARMAMENT, DEMOBILISATION AND REINTEGRATION IN ANGOLA
The signature on 4 April 2002 of a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) for the Cessation of Hostilities and the Resolution of the Outstanding Military Issues Under the Lusaka Protocol between the military leaders of the Angolan Armed Forces (FAA) and UNITA put a definite end to Angola’s protracted civil war. Although sometimes mistaken as a new peace accord for Angola, the MoU was merely intended to complete the Lusaka Peace Process, replacing annexes 3 and 4 of the Lusaka Protocol, which remained the accepted and legitimate framework for peace in Angola. In this sense, the MoU regulated and updated the military components of the Lusaka Protocol, governing the disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration (DDR) of UNITA troops as well as concluding the integration of the armed forces. Some of its provisions necessarily and inevitably reflect the fact that this was a ‘home-grown’ initiative, the result of a military victory and a product of intensive negotiations between the military leaders of the FAA and UNITA in the eastern Moxico town of Luena. This is its major distinction from previous DDR processes, and must not be underestimated. A further reflection of this lies in the reduced role of the international community in the process. There was no provision for formal third party monitoring, although the troika (Portugal, Russia and the US) and the UN were invited as observers.
The government of Angola, through the FAA, assumed single-handedly the management and financing of the quartering, disarmament and demobilisation, concerned by the need to secure its military advantage and the maintenance of the ceasefire as well as its expressed wish to proceed with the disbanding of UNITA’s military forces as rapidly as possible. Two institutional structures were created to oversee the co-ordination and management of this process. The first, the Joint Military Commission (JMC), was composed of the chiefs of staff of the two belligerents and 11 military observers from the UN, presided over by a military representative of the government. It bore responsibility for promoting and overseeing the application of the MoU. A technical group was also created with the responsibility to assist the JMC in the performance of its duties, including the drawing up of detailed timetables and the definition of specific activities to be carried out to guarantee the application of the provisions of the MoU.
The quartering, demilitarisation and demobilisation process of UNITA began immediately following the signature of the MoU on 4 April. However, while the MoU planned 80 days for the completion of the quartering, disarmament and demobilisation of 50,000 UNITA soldiers in 27 quartering areas, no one, including UNITA’s Management Commission, anticipated the number of soldiers and family members that presented themselves in the quartering and adjacent family reception areas. In fact, on 27 July, a total of 85,585 UNITA soldiers were quartered in 35 quartering areas and approximately 280,261 family members were gathered in family reception areas in 16 Angolan provinces. The exponential growth in the number of UNITA soldiers and family members can be seen in the table, which is based on press statements by the JMC.
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Table 1: Evolution of the quartering process to 27 July
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24
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1
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5
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8
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11
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15
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17
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21
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24
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28
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2
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27
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Apr
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May
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May
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May
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May
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May
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May
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May
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May
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May
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Jul
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Jul
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UNITA
soldiers
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11,868
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24,553
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32,208
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39,250
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42,153
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51,354
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55,618
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65,343
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67,967
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76, 654
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84,618
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85,585
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|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
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Family
members
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12,202
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33,697
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57,073
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71,575
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73,800
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91,234
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106,763
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145,819
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159,659
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212,881
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264,225
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280,261
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|
|
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Total
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24,070
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58,250
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89,281
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110,825
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115,953
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142,588
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162,381
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211,162
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227,626
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289,535
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348,843
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365,846
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Although positively interpreted as evidence of UNITA’s political will to comply with the provisions of the MoU, the unforeseen growth in the numbers of UNITA soldiers and their family members gathered in quartering and family reception areas created serious logistical problems for which the government and humanitarian partners were, and to a large extent still are, unprepared. This led to concerns that localised criminal activity would increase, unless assistance to the quartering and family reception areas was substantially enhanced. In addition, the levels of malnutrition and disease evidenced by a vast number of UNITA soldiers and their family members arriving at quartering and gathering locations contributed to a dire humanitarian situation, recognised by the JMC during May 2002 as well as by several humanitarian agencies present on the ground. As pointed out elsewhere, the remoteness and inaccessibility of a large number of these quartering locations may partially explain the difficulties involved in tackling the critical situation described.
At the end of May, the initial 27 quartering areas had been expanded to 35 and although the movement of UNITA soldiers to quartering areas was expected to end on 7 June, it continued into July and August. Nevertheless, on 21 June, while combatants were still making their way to the quartering areas, a spokesman for the JMC announced that the task of assembling and disarming Angola’s former rebels had been completed at a cost of $44 million, entirely financed by the government of Angola. Following this, the JMC made public on 11 July that the demobilisation of 84,000 ex-soldiers would begin in earnest on 20 July, when a number of UNITA soldiers (approximately 5,000) would be integrated into the FAA and the National Police, in accordance with a selection process that had been initiated on 15 July.
The JMC went ahead with the integration of the agreed UNITA contingent into the FAA. Barely two weeks later, on 2 August 2002, it announced that the demobilisation and demilitarisation process was complete and that UNITA military forces had been disbanded and were only waiting socio-economic reintegration. However, eye-witness accounts have pointed out that the demobilisation process was far from complete at this date, and that in fact quartering areas exhibited contrasting degrees of logistical capability for the collection of personal identification information as well as for the registration and verification of weapons—actions critical to any demobilisation process. In this regard, the World Bank–led technical and financial assistance mission to Angola during August, observed that the FAA had just initiated registration of ex-combatants and had begun the process of taking photographs for military ID cards, while the collection of socio-economic data in 24 of 35 quartering areas had just been initiated. The mission also confirmed that information on demobilisation was being entered into a pre-existing database (dating from post-Lusaka) and that the data was being analysed for reintegration planning. In September– October, another World Bank mission again noted that certain demobilisation activities were still under way, notably the production of ID cards. Even in January 2003 not all ex-combatants had received all their demobilisation documentation, after the official closure date for the gathering areas, which the government had set for 31 December 2002, which has now been rescheduled for the end of February 2003.
A similar picture characterised the disarmament of UNITA. Slightly over one out of every four interviewees (in a sample of 30,000 ex-combatants) delivered a personal weapon or military hardware. The most common weapons collected were AK-47 and AKM assault weapons, with few AK-74 and AKCs. No record was made in the registration about collected ammunition or other heavy military equipment. In this regard, international observers from the troika indicated relative satisfaction with disarmament of UNITA. In total some 30,000 small arms were collected—proportionate, according to some observers, to actual number of active UNITA at the time of the ceasefire agreement. The troika also reported that UNITA has co-operated in identifying large weapons caches, which in some instances have been destroyed in situ. Verification of disarmament activities has been undertaken to the extent possible, although UN military observers have had a very limited role in the verification to date. Yet, a UK Department for International Development technical assistance mission report points out that although the overall man to weapon ratio was considered satisfactory, “given the strong command and control structures within UNITA, which had submitted itself by units as opposed to individuals, there would be a need at some point to review ratios as well as the quality of weapons submitted. There is a possibility that not all weapons were collected from the combatants, with many weapons in the civilian population”.
Managed and financed entirely by the government, the demobilisation and demilitarisation of ex-combatants has been largely ad hoc in nature, a result of the scale and complexity of the operation as well as the government’s announced priority of closing all quartering areas as rapidly as possible. Of the 35 reception areas scattered in 16 provinces, however, only three have been closed as of late January 2003. This uncertainty has had a negative effect on ex-combatants morale, as well as in some locations at least preventing them from beginning agricultural activity, which they could by now have harvested, had they known the real length of time they would be forced to stay in the gathering areas. As a consequence, there are still 32 reception areas and only 11,000 ex-combatants and 33,000 of their family members have been either resettled or moved to transit camps, representing slightly more than 10% of the estimated total. In addition, as of end January 2003, it is estimated that only 80% of all ex-combatants have received demobilisation documents and have been paid wages by the FAA. – JP
NIGERIA: NEGOTIATING THE PITFALLS OF DEMOCRACY
In April this year Nigeria is due to hold presidential, legislative and state elections in an exercise that will determine the prospects for the consolidation of a democratic transition in Africa’s most populous state. The nature of the Nigerian polity and the challenges and dilemmas that it faces make the period prior to the elections and immediately following, especially testing. And because Nigeria is the undisputed hegemon of West Africa its stability is closely related to the efforts of its neighbours and of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) to promote development and stability. On a larger scale Nigeria’s fate is intimately connected with that of Africa as a whole and to the prospects of success of continental schemes for regeneration under the African Union and the New Partnership for Africa’s Development.
By the time incumbent president Olusegun Obasanjo came to power Nigerians had suffered years of traumatising misrule. In 1993, elections that were generally acclaimed to be free and fair had been cancelled at the behest of the military. Following this cancellation, the then President Babangida was forced to resign in a palace coup d’état and was replaced by an interim government ostensibly led by respected businessman, Chief Ernest Shonekan. The inexperienced Shonekan’s inability to deal with the problems provoked by the cancellation of the elections sent Nigeria into a deepening crisis that took almost a decade to resolve. It was during this period of political uncertainty and worsening societal violence that Gen. Sani Abacha seized power. Abacha imposed full military rule replete with massive human rights abuses and rampant corruption. It was with a sense of national relief, therefore, that Nigerians received the news of Abacha’s sudden demise in June 1998. Following this the new ruling group led by Gen. Abdulsalami Abubakar announced a crash programme to return Nigeria to the democratic process that had been curtailed in 1993. But this attempt to re-democratise Nigeria was not without its problems. Firstly, the constitution that was to guide the Fourth Republic was quickly rushed through and has been a source of contention ever since. Political institutions were weak and continue to be so. Thus, much as there was general consensus on the desirability of a democratic process, despite its problems, the challenges of the transition period were daunting.
Gen. Olusegun Obasanjo, who had ruled Nigeria earlier as a military leader, had willingly handed over power to a civilian administration in 1979. When he emerged from imprisonment by Abacha to resume the mantle of leadership almost 20 years after relinquishing it, many things had changed. Nigerian society had grown more sophisticated, yet even more deeply polarised along ethnic and religious lines. Corruption was endemic. A sense of national identity and loyalty had been destroyed, with disgruntled ethnic groups militating for greater decentralisation of power. Against this background, Obasanjo and his People’s Democratic Party (PDP) assumed power. In one of its earliest actions, the new regime established a commission, modelled on the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which came to be known as the Oputa Panel after its chair, Justice Chukwudifu Oputa. Its mandate included an inquiry into the allegations of torture and murder against Nigeria’s various military governments since 1976. Public perceptions about the achievements of the Oputa Panel are, at best, varied. Three former military dictators—generals Buhari, Babangida and Abubakar—refused to appear before the panel with impunity.
Concurrent with the establishment of this panel was the decision to reduce the size of the Nigerian army, which officially consumes 8.1% of total recurrent expenditure and 3.7% of capital expenditure. While Defence Minister Theophilus Danjuma argued for a reduction from 80,000 to 50,000 men, this was complicated by the politics of ethnicity. Firstly, northerners dominate Nigeria’s army at all levels. Secondly, any efforts at restructuring the security service would disproportionately affect Hausa and Fulani officers. While reform of the armed forces in their entirety was desired, it was the army that was viewed as having the greatest capacity and propensity to threaten Nigeria’s fledgling democracy. Thus, generous perks were provided to the upper echelons of the army. Such allowances were not offered to the army’s junior ranks or to ranks and officers in the navy and air force. This predictably led to disgruntlement in the service, with negative implications for civil–military relations.
In the run-up to the present elections, all the major political parties have completed their presidential nominations. Obasanjo’s re-election campaign was fraught with uncertainties as a result of the threat of impeachment proceedings looming over him for the past six months. While his re-election to the PDP must have come as a relief, intra-party rumblings of dissatisfaction continue and may lead to defections. Attempts to hold gubernatorial and other primaries in several south and south-eastern states have resulted in rampant violence and several deaths.
The possibility of widespread fraud also threatens the credibility of these elections. For example, arrests have been made concerning attempts to print over five million fake voters’ cards ahead of the elections. The problem appears to have been even more extensive, however, for although more than 70 million voters’ cards have been distributed for the estimated 60 million voters, there is still a shortfall in many areas, which the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) is unable to account for. In spite of these problems, the INEC has announced its full confidence in its state of preparedness—a sentiment that is not widely shared.
The principal opposition party in Nigeria, the All Nigeria People’s Party (ANPP), has also elected a retired army general and former putschist, Muhammadu Buhari, as its presidential aspirant after all the other contenders surprisingly withdrew their candidature. This event is interesting for several reasons: when Obasanjo was released from prison to contest the 1999 elections, one of his key financiers was Babangida. Since that election, there have been suggestions of a pact between the two to allow Obasanjo a single term and later give Babangida a shot at the presidency. If there was such an accord then Obasanjo would appear to have reneged on it. Speculation is that a piqued Babangida stands behind Buhari’s successful elevation to the position of presidential contender. The putative role of Babangida in Nigerian politics could have serious implications for the anti-corruption and democratic processes in the light of worrying stories about the source of his immense wealth. Obasanjo, a south-western Christian, has lost the support of the northern power brokers who backed his successful bid for the presidency in 1999. While this larger southern–northern dichotomy exists, there is an even more pernicious south–south divide. The people of south-eastern Nigeria feel that the time has come for a president originating from their area. The election of Buhari, a Muslim from the North, against a Christian Southerner would exacerbate the ethnic and religious schisms that run deep in Nigerian society with serious repercussions for the country and the region. Obasanjo’s term has been dogged by religious conflict, characterised by violent debate about the imposition of sharia law in some northern states, and the reaction of Christian sects compelled to protect themselves. These confrontations are already drawing different sects into Nigeria to support their religious affines.
The economic difficulties that the PDP administration met have not seen any marked improvement. Despite the absence of civil war, Nigeria has one of the world’s highest casualty rates from internal conflict. From the vantage point of the region, Nigeria’s ability to maintain a stable and functional state is essential. Other states in West Africa, especially Guinea and Liberia, are faced with difficult elections whose uncertain outcomes threaten to contribute to regional insecurity. With its pressing domestic problems, Nigeria’s ability to play its normal leading role in ECOWAS, for instance by helping to resolve the crisis in Côte d’Ivoire, is limited. The elections in Nigeria must be seen to be free, fair and acceptable by key stakeholders in the country. Until the results are announced and accepted by all, West Africa and its citizens will hold their breath and hope for the best. – Kwesi Aning
UGANDA: DISQUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT
In December 2002, the Uganda People’s Defence Forces (UPDF) officially announced that it had finally defeated the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) rebels in the northern region of the country. Yet, simultaneously, the minister of defence, Amama Mbabazi, announced that a new rebel threat had emerged in western Uganda in the shape of a group called the People’s Redemption Army (PRA). This has led the UPDF to deploy nearly a division-strong military force in the south-west, particularly to areas near the border with Rwanda and territory allegedly held by the Rwandan army in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC).
To the general Ugandan public and the international community, the end of 2002 seemed to promise an end to 15 years of one of the most brutal and atrocious rebellions in modern African history. The LRA relied principally upon the abduction of children for recruitment into its ranks and concentrated on attacking civilian targets. More than 600,000 people in the affected districts live in camps for the internally displaced. However, the government’s security concerns in western Uganda dim the hope for a more stable 2003 despite President Yoweri Museveni’s personal declaration that this is going to be a year of peace. Appreciating Uganda’s security dilemma requires a grasp of the domestic, regional and international forces at play within the context of the geopolitical and military interests of the different actors.
Throughout the month of January 2003, scores of civilians, mainly supporters of former presidential candidate, Col. Dr Kiiza Besigye, were arrested and detained in illegal detention centres by various security organisations—Military Intelligence, the Internal Security Organisation and Operation Wembley, a military unit set up in August 2002 by President Museveni to counter escalating urban crime. The government has been criticised widely for human rights abuses and the curtailment of civil liberties. Four politicians have already been charged with treason, and if found guilty would face the death sentence. Uganda’s chief of military intelligence, Col. Noble Mayombo, has openly accused Besigye (now exiled in South Africa) of conspiring with the government of Rwanda to destabilise Uganda.
According to official and leaked government security reports, Rwanda has organised the PRA to attack Uganda. The reports allege that PRA is a combination of remnants of rebels of the Allied Democratic Front (ADF)—who had been fighting in western Uganda, but were virtually defeated by the end of 2001—the LRA, and a new core force organised by Dr Besigye and supported by the Rwandan government.
Col. Mayombo has openly said on radio that the commanders of PRA are renegade Uganda army officers, colonels Samson Mande and Anthony Kyakabale, who defected to Rwanda immediately after the 12 March 2002 presidential elections in which Besigye lost to Museveni. Kyakabale and Mande have become a major point of dispute in the tense relations between Kigali and Kampala. Intelligence has further issued details of more than 30 Ugandan army officers who have defected to Rwanda and are alleged to be training the PRA.
Rwanda and Uganda have fought many proxy wars using Congolese rebel forces in eastern DRC, which culminated in three direct battles between their regular armies in Kisangani in 1999 and 2000 with the underlying motive of securing control of rich mineral and other resources.
Today, Rwanda accuses Uganda of training a rebel force including former Interahamwe to destabilise the government in Kigali. On New Year’s Eve, a Congolese rebel leader of Rwandan descent from the Patriotic Movement for the Liberation of Eastern Congo, Jean Bosco Barihima, escaped from Kampala to Goma and announced that the Ugandan government is in the process of training a rebel force to attack Rwanda. A Rwandan government spokesman immediately announced that his government had “irrefutable evidence” that Kampala was plotting to destabilise Kigali.
Claims of victory over the LRA in the north and allegations of an impending rebellion in the west characterise Uganda’s security predicament. For sceptics, the unilaterally declared victory over the LRA is questionable. The government has announced victory over the LRA more than four times over the last decade, only for the rebel force to return with ferocious zeal after a lull in their operations. Doubts may be justified since neither the rebel leader, Joseph Kony, nor his key commanders have been captured or killed in action. Although the army has inflicted heavy casualties on the LRA, the latter can still mobilise and return to wreak havoc and mayhem, as has been the pattern.
However, the army and security agencies say Kony’s ability to return into action had previously been predicated upon the financial and logistical support given to him by the Khartoum government, and the sanctuary he had in southern Sudan. Uganda’s senior presidential advisor on security and defence, Lt-Gen. David Tinyefuza, says government scored a “strategic victory” by signing an agreement with Sudan, which allows the UPDF to occupy parts of southern Sudan to wipe out LRA bases. Because of this, Tinyefuza said, the LRA lost bases where they could train, grow crops for food, ensure a stable supply of military equipment and maintain intelligence networks as they plotted military raids into Uganda.
The results of this strategy are yet to be seen. First, Sudan allowed the Uganda army to enter its territory to fight LRA after the US listed the rebel force as a terrorist organisation. Afraid of incurring America’s displeasure, Sudan acted accordingly. However, Sudanese support for LRA was a response to Uganda’s US and UK backed support for the Sudanese People’s Liberation Army (SPLA). It is unlikely that Uganda has abandoned this support and mutual suspicion continues to undermine relations between the two countries.
The focus of concern about Uganda’s security situation in 2003 is increasingly shifting to the west as Kampala and Kigali seek to reposition themselves strategically in the Great Lakes region. Although last year both Rwanda and Uganda signed peace deals with Kinshasa, Kampala has grown closer to the Congo government in an alliance that seeks to undermine Kigali’s regional strategy. Already, Kinshasa is deploying its troops in Uganda-held territory in eastern DRC with Kampala’s encouragement and assistance.
President Museveni’s young brother and commander of the reserve force, Lt-Gen. Salim Saleh has been to Kinshasa several times, and had Uganda-supported rebels signed deals with President Joseph Kabila. However, Rwanda has allegedly retaliated by supporting some previously Ugandan-backed Congolese rebel leaders who are now demanding the withdrawal of the UPDF from the eastern Congo. The security situation in eastern Congo is thus becoming increasingly tense as it threatens to pit the Rwandan against the Ugandan army. This comes in the wake of mutual accusations by the two countries of plots to overthrow each other’s governments. The prospects for improved security in the region in 2003 therefore remain dim. – Andrew M Mwenda
ZIMBABWE: SMOKE AND MIRRORS
Shortly before President Robert Mugabe’s controversial victory in Zimbabwe’s 2002 presidential elections, rumours were circulating of an exit strategy involving his departure into exile. Though a year has passed since the first plan for a graceful exit was mooted, Mugabe, now 78, appears in no hurry to leave the political scene.
In early January 2003 reports again emerged, this time of an exit plan involving Zimbabwean speaker of Parliament, Emmerson Mnangagwa (long tipped as Mugabe’s chosen successor) and armed forces chief-of-staff Gen. Vitalis Zvinavashe. It was reported that retired Col. Lionel Dyck, acting for Mnangagwa (a business associate) and Gen. Zvinavashe, met the leader of the Zimbabwean opposition party, the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC), Morgan Tsvangirai in December 2002 to discuss a ‘soft landing’ for Mugabe. This plan involved Mugabe relinquishing power, followed by the formation of a government of national unity and the eventual staging of free and fair elections. Once details were published in the media, Mnangagwa and Zvinavashe hastily denied any knowledge of such an approach. President Mugabe, apparently unaware of how far plans had advanced, returned from a trip to the Far East to describe an exit deal as “foolhardy” and “counter-revolutionary”. Tsvangirai also publicly distanced himself from the plan saying: “The MDC is not in the business of arranging succession strategies for an illegitimate regime that survives on the basis of a systematic and ruthless subversion of democracy and fundamental human rights and continues to rule through the barrel of the gun.”
The ‘soft landing’ options may indeed be founded on little more than rumour but the economic collapse that prompted them is all too real. The economic gains and social service expansion of the 1980s have been reversed. Zimbabwean economist John Robertson claims the economy has shrunk by 11% over the past year. The official exchange rate (Zim $55 to US $1) and the parallel market (Zim $1,800 to US $1) drift further apart each day. Acute fuel shortages continue and many companies have either reduced or completely shut down operations. The Zimbabwean government’s ill-executed agrarian reform programme has, as yet, been unable to create a new self-sufficient class of small-scale farmers to fill the vacuum left by evicted white commercial farmers. This controversial land-grab has undermined the farming sector, previously the country’s economic bedrock. Production estimates for key crops in 2003 are sharply down, with knock-on effects not only for Zimbabwe’s formerly robust agro-manufacturing industry, but most other sectors of the modern economy. The current drought, attributed to the El Niño phenomenon, and the negative effects of the land programme, have resulted in a severe food crisis. The government’s search for new financiers has failed to match suspended donor aid and foreign exchange remains scarce.
It is almost certain that it is the rapid decline of Zimbabwe’s economic fortunes, more than any political rationale that has motivated the examination of an exit strategy for Mugabe. Mnangagwa is at the centre of a tangled business network that includes ZANU-PF’s investment wing, ZIDCO Holdings, and several other investment companies with extensive links to Zimbabwe’s political and business elite. In a rare interview Zvinavashe told the Business Tribune (owned by Mnangagwa’s ally, Mutumwa Mawere) that Zimbabwe’s economic crisis was caused by bad policies and recommended that a national task force address the ‘emergency situation’.
Mnangagwa’s rivals, however, seem to suspect that his real plan is to place himself in the presidency. All this relates to an analysis that identifies the importance of the linguistic/dialect and provincial factionalism within the ZANU-PF party structures. Some within Zanu-PF see this as a Karanga plot to seize power. Mnangagwa and Zvinavashe are both Karanga, the most numerous of the six Chishona-speaking groups. The question then arises: what would the power play surrounding Mugabe’s exit mean for the internal dynamics of ZANU-PF, and the central issue of an eventual presidential succession.
The dominant faction, currently led by Mugabe, draws its core following from the Zezuru group. Other leaders of this group include political heavyweights such as retired Lt-Gen. Solomon Mujuru (nom de guerre Rex Nhongo) who is considered by many to be a potential kingmaker because of his extensive political and commercial connections. These connections include air force commander and Mugabe’s nephew, Air Marshal Perence Shiri and army commander Lt-Gen. Constantine Chiwenga. Though often underestimated because of his ability to avoid the limelight, Mujuru is a force to be reckoned with. Another important Zezuru player is Dr Sydney Sekeramayi, currently Minister of Defence. Sekeramayi is seen by some as a presidential contender partly because of his powerful voice in ZANU-PF’s upper echelons, but mainly because of his strong connection to Mujuru. However, there are also analysts who predict that Mujuru would support the former minister of finance, Dr Simbarashe Makoni, in the hope that he could mend fences with the donors. Makoni is considered to be a political lightweight within the ruling ZANU-PF, however, and would need the backing of a more powerful party baron.
For many in the Zezuru faction, the Karanga group represents a threatening third force. This is particularly true of Emmerson Mnangagwa, a key contender in the presidential succession race because of his track record as security minister and the high esteem in which President Mugabe holds him. However, if it is true that Mugabe was not fully informed of the negotiations for his exit, which (according to reliably placed sources) included several meetings with South African and British intermediaries, then this raises questions about the strength of the Mugabe– Mnangagwa alliance and why the plan was exposed so dramatically. Clues may be found in statements by Mugabe’s propaganda chief, Information Minister Jonathan Moyo, who told the state-owned daily, The Herald, that the Mnangagwa plan amounted to a coup d’etat. Moyo, whose influence is based entirely on his loyalty to Mugabe, and is probably aware that his political career is linked to that of his master, has denied that an exit for Mugabe is imminent. The question is whether these sudden revelations herald a break between Mugabe and Mnangagwa. If it does, then the Mujuru camp is well placed to take advantage.
Observers can look forward to an eventful year as the inner ZANU-PF contest for the succession to the presidency intensifies. Faced with the current crisis and the prospect of Mugabe’s departure from power, ZANU-PF politicians and officials with a personal interest in economic recovery may reconsider their allegiances. Factionalism in ZANU-PF is unlikely to lead to its disintegration as a party, but may lead to a necessity to bring the MDC into the equation in order to alter the rules to ensure a relatively orderly presidential transition and a return to policies that would facilitate a rapprochement with external funders. – CM
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