Fear has cast a long shadow over Zimbabwe’s political landscape—a disposition that was never meant to define humanity. According to scripture, human beings were created to exercise dominion over creation, yet after Adam’s fall they adopted fear, reducing themselves to the level of the creatures they were meant to govern. Fear is not merely an instinct; it is a conscious, personal experience shaped by memory, interpretation, and thought. The anxiety or terror we feel in the face of a threat often arises from past wounds, not from our original design.
Emotions can be distinguished from feelings: feelings are more subjective, moulded by culture, personal history, and perception. Fear, when it goes unchecked, can give birth to falsehoods and idolatry. Some come to believe that only supernatural forces can handle the impossible, forgetting that humankind was endowed with the capacity for dominion. Being made in the image of God means having what it takes to handle life’s challenges—not just with physical strength, but also with truth and understanding, qualities we all share.
Avoiding someone’s gaze can signal a deep difficulty in relating to others. This avoidance surfaces in many circumstances, even between a child and an abusive parent. Children are sometimes pressured to stay silent about a parent’s wrongdoing, paralysed by fear or by imagined consequences. Fathers abuse daughters while mothers hide it in the name of family honour. In adult relationships, individuals conceal their past mistakes for fear of rejection.
Violence, too, can spring from an inability to confront—something very different from argument or physical aggression. True confrontation is the open pursuit of truth, intended to keep relationships honest. On a national scale, when people avoid facing one another, stability erodes because justice depends on truth and trust. Criminals routinely use fear to control their victims.
While respect for authority figures is important, confronting them can provoke threats or violence from the community, especially when those leaders are deeply revered—like religious figures. Speaking out against abuse in such settings can mean risking lawsuits or social expulsion. Historically, religion has been deeply entwined with the management of fear; worship was often understood as a way to appease higher powers. Intense reverence for church leaders makes exposing misconduct dangerous, because pastors are often seen as closer to God than the rest of humanity.
When people refuse to stand up to wrongdoing, they end up enabling it just as surely as those who commit it. Our political scene has become toxic and unacceptable, largely because the opposition—once viewed as the alternative to the ruling party—has repeatedly failed to take a stand. Leaving aside the brutal violence unleashed against PF-ZAPU in the early 1980s, the focus here is on the injustices that have mounted since the year 2000. The MDC party began with the admirable aim of wresting power from ZANU-PF and challenging a corrupt system, but severe violence was soon unleashed on unarmed civilians.
Some suggest that the courts were cowed into submission, as they did nothing to address these abuses, but there is no record of anyone ever approaching the courts in this regard. Society internalized the belief that it is safer to avoid trouble than to confront harmful acts. Fear is natural, but constantly dodging what scares us plants the seeds of violence, and once they take root, they form a lasting pattern. By turning a blind eye to ZANU-PF’s wrongdoing, many didn’t realize the MDC was letting those seeds spread.
People are not born evil, but when they refuse to confront evil out of fear, they become complicit in it. This kind of fear keeps people stuck under control, without realizing what’s causing it. Jesus spoke of bringing freedom, yet fear makes that freedom impossible. Excuses such as “There was nothing I could do because the man was armed” may sound reasonable, but confronting wrongdoing does not require superhuman powers—terrorists are as human as those they threaten. Jesus warned against fear for a reason:
“What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs. Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.” (Matthew 10:27-28 NIV)
This was Jesus’ emphasis on the necessity of confronting wrongdoing. As spiritual beings, humans can face immense challenges, and those who speak the truth should remain resolute, refusing to be cowed. True greatness lies in the courage to stand up to evil; fear allows cowards to be swayed into defending it. The MDC party permitted a culture of violence to take root, and that atmosphere bore bitter fruit in the turbulent 2002 presidential elections. It emboldened the Army Commander to declare that the presidency was reserved for those with liberation credentials.
Had the opposition relied squarely on the constitution and the legal system, every shady or unlawful intention would have been dragged into the light. Even if an immediate remedy had been impossible, exposing the wrongdoing would have made it far harder for such illegality to endure. The courts were simply ignored, even though the MDC had plenty of legal experts in its ranks. The wisest move for the opposition would have been to reject illegality while keeping their own hands clean. You cannot hope to tackle wrongdoing if you are guilty of it yourself—which ought to be common sense.
The opposition leader did not possess liberation credentials, but the Commander’s statement had no constitutional foundation whatsoever, nor did the constitution grant the army any role in governance. Independence means that people have the right to decide how they are ruled. In a nation governed by law, the constitution is upheld, and disputes are settled fairly in the courts. Yet, out of fear or ignorance, many accepted the General’s baseless and arguably treasonous words. Weakened by violence, the MDC failed to mount a serious challenge.
Some believed the opposition party was infiltrated by agents of the Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO)—a claim that could not be tested as long as the legal system remained sidelined. Ultimately, responsibility rested with the people, for the one-person-one-vote principle allows them to freely choose their leaders. Legal action against the Army General would have been justified for the sake of the nation’s future, but it was never taken—not even by the opposition’s own legal experts. In its role as an alternative government, the MDC again failed to confront a blatant violation of the constitution.
The Army Commander’s remarks felt cowardly, likely driven by fear of what might happen if civilian authorities assumed full control. Perhaps there was anxiety that a new administration could expose past atrocities such as Gukurahundi; that, however, remains speculation. The MDC, for its part, seemed more intent on dodging the “Western puppet” label than on principled resolve, struggling to push back against propaganda that painted them as foreign agents.
At the heart of the matter lay a refusal to confront the entrenched culture of violence. There may be some truth to claims that the opposition harboured spies within its ranks, fueling the 2005 split. While Tsvangirai’s faction earned a measure of public respect, its tendency to avoid hard issues still left it vulnerable to the fear gripping Zimbabwean society.
Two years later, Tsvangirai survived an assassination attempt in prison. In a country accustomed to unchallenged falsehoods, even his wrongful imprisonment was normalised and absorbed into the national psyche. Some suggested the attempt was a calculated move to boost his political profile—an idea I firmly rejected as baseless. Where you are truly committed to the principle of truthfulness, you need not worry about anything else.
Although Zimbabwe achieved self-rule after the 1980 elections, the deeper sickness was the public’s reluctance to confront wrongdoing. Those who tried to kill Tsvangirai in prison were cowards, no different from those who looked away. The MDC likewise seemed content to tolerate violence against its own supporters, bowing to the Army General’s treasonous statement.
In the 2008 election campaign, President Mugabe openly dismissed the idea that the ballot would determine the outcome, implying that elections were a meaningless exercise born of apathy and a refusal to face reality. Despite this blatant illegality, the opposition participated without protest, leaving many baffled as to why they would engage in so flawed a process. It was widely believed that Mugabe and his party feared elections, for violence had become deeply embedded in the political culture, with people killed simply for backing the opposition.
The exact number of post-2008 killings remains unknown, but the reality is undeniable and demands attention. This culture of violence that took root in 2000 was entrenched by the Army Commander’s treasonous remark in 2002 and cemented in 2008, plunging the nation into political apathy. ZANU-PF’s resort to violence rather than addressing real issues betrayed cowardice, an avoidance of the hard truths needed to restore order. The opposition, for its part, failed to offer clear solutions to the daily problems Zimbabweans faced.
Perhaps out of sympathy for his suffering in prison, many voted for Tsvangirai, who won by a landslide. Yet even with a team of legal experts, the MDC-T appeared uncertain how to proceed after victory. It took the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission (ZEC) over two months to announce results that clearly showed the MDC-T had won. While ZEC’s incompetence was plain, the MDC-T’s reluctance to challenge it suggested that they were not so different from ZANU-PF. Fear can be seen as a lack of integrity, but that is really only a symptom of the deep-rooted cowardice that has entrenched itself in humanity.
The violence that followed the sham presidential rerun was unlike anything witnessed before. The MDC-T saw it coming but had grown numb to such brutality; there is no record of their having approached the courts in any meaningful way. What they had ignored in 2002, when the Army Commander illegally sought to define the presidency, had only worsened. Simply pointing fingers at ZANU-PF betrays a failure to face wrongdoing. Evil acts should never be confused with human identity.
What cannot be denied is that both ZANU-PF and MDC-T struggled to confront criminality, all of it rooted in cowardice. The MDC-T retreated into a victim mindset, while ZANU-PF’s role as perpetrator was also driven by fear of losing. Zimbabwe’s troubles flow from an inability to separate a person’s identity from their evil acts. True freedom comes from making that distinction. Ignoring evil endangers everyone—victims and perpetrators alike.
No one truly gains from evil, except that criminals may seem to benefit, whether they have power or not. Chaos is a criminal’s ideal setting. While perpetrators may seem to gain at first, consequences catch up eventually. Injustice should never be tolerated, and fighting evil is every citizen’s duty. The MDC-T represented many supporters, but fear-driven avoidance of taking responsibility is a pattern found across all walks of life.
Marriages fall apart because of this same problem of cowardice. Moving to Diaspora doesn’t fix anything if the real problems back home aren’t dealt with. Left unchallenged, cowardice lingers indefinitely. Life may feel comfortable for now, but future generations will inherit the uncertainty left by those who failed to take responsibility. The cost of failing to confront is far greater than it appears. Rather than dwelling on the past, it’s better to focus on creating a future that works.
The MDC-T seemed to view itself as morally superior to ZANU-PF, pointing to its apparent achievements during the Government of National Unity (GNU) from 2009 to 2013. Many hoped past wrongs would simply fade, expecting a better future. But the MDC-T’s real failure lay in sidestepping the root causes of violence and corruption. There was much celebration and high hope surrounding the crafting of a new constitution, yet without addressing core issues, nothing lasting could be achieved.
Ignoring the violence of the 2008 election meant that no truly respectable constitution could emerge under those conditions. By 2013, more critics were raising their voices against the opposition, among them Dr. Ibbo Mandaza of SAPES Trust, who noted the MDC-T’s unwillingness to take responsibility. The MDC-T allowed ZANU-PF to treat the GNU with contempt, permitting lawlessness to continue.
Despite SADC’s involvement, the cycle of violence persisted, and the MDC-T reportedly ignored advice to boycott elections that were held without genuine reforms. Some argued that greed, not principle, drove the party’s choices. Once again, ZANU-PF faced accusations of rigging—this time with the alleged assistance of a foreign group, NIKUV—but no one took meaningful action seeking to address the irregularities. Many believed the MDC-T had grown too comfortable with the perks of power during the unity government.
Some found comfort in their trust of Morgan Tsvangirai but failed to hold him accountable. As Prime Minister, he was controversially awarded a mansion in Mt Pleasant without due process. Instead of focusing on national development, parliamentary debates revolved around perks for MPs. Rather than blaming ZANU-PF alone, Zimbabweans should recognise that the opposition lacked integrity, leaving the country back at square one.
Unconfirmed reports suggest unusual communication took place between Tsvangirai and the Army Generals. Madam Khuphe was reportedly sidelined at their request. The critical question had been who would succeed Tsvangirai as MDC-T president after his passing. The Generals pretended to support the MDC-T, thereby pressing for clarity on the succession. It remains unclear whether that support was sincere or a strategy to crush the opposition from within.
By entertaining emissaries from the army, Tsvangirai demonstrated that he was not guided by principle and appeared to buy into ZANU-PF’s propaganda. This led to Mudzuri and Chamisa being elevated to vice president roles. Although the MDC-T National Council had chosen Eng. Elias Mudzuri, Tsvangirai, uncomfortable with him, used executive powers to promote Chamisa, thereby creating three vice presidents. Out of that confusion came the force that eventually shattered the opposition, which had been modelled on the MDC-T.
Some pointed to the opposition’s failure to unite, but the real problem was the absence of principles among those in leadership. These same leaders had failed to confront the Army Generals after their treasonous remarks. This drove Tsvangirai to unconstitutionally sideline his deputy rather than address the army’s illegal interference, sowing discord within the MDC-T and leading to the Mwonzora dispute. Today, it is difficult to say whether a genuine opposition still exists in Zimbabwe.
A great deal of blame has been directed at Nelson Chamisa, but much of it originates from misinformed voices that have bought into ZANU-PF’s propaganda. Under the circumstances, Chamisa’s actions are entirely understandable to any level-headed observer. Most people seem unaware of what truly caused the current troubles in the opposition—an inability to confront wrongdoing, driven by a shortage of courage and a propensity to fear.
The whole nation now suffers under violent rulers who exploit the fear that has seized the land, leaving no clear idea of what should be done. While those in power fear losing control, citizens fear the consequences of resisting oppressive rule. Failing to stand up to such terror is profoundly damaging, extinguishing any hope of restoring integrity. Ignoring it because it is happening somewhere else is a grave error, for evil spreads and eventually affects everyone, even those who imagine they are untouchable.
Now we face CAB#3, which appears illegal, yet only a handful are willing to challenge it. The noise surrounding “ED this! ED that!” or “Tshabangu this! Tshabangu that!” simply reveals a long-standing unwillingness among Zimbabweans to confront issues head-on. Another forty years of stagnation could follow if falsehood continues to rule. To break free from this confusion, people must confront falsehood directly. No problem can be solved without first tackling its root causes.
Fear is a universal affliction, often reinforced by misguided religious beliefs that promote blind trust in an unknown supernatural force. Regardless of nationality, human beings approach survival in similar ways—but the real obstacle is the refusal to confront the truth. You cannot take on evil without first questioning everything that has long been accepted as evil. Nothing will improve until the entire nation embraces the imperative to face the truth and tackle what is wrong.
Andrew Masuku is the author of Dimensions of a New Civilisation, laying down standards for uplifting Zimbabwe from the current state of economic depression into a model for other nations worldwide. A decaying tree provides an opportunity for a blossoming sprout. Written from a Christian perspective, the book is a product of inspiration, relieving those who have witnessed the strings of unworkable solutions, leading to the current economic and social decay. Most Zimbabweans should find the book to be a long-awaited providential oasis of hope, in a simple conversational tone.
The Print copy is now available at Amazon.com for $13.99
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