It is a grim, repetitive ritual, one that would be laughable if it were not so tragic. Zimbabwe’s parliament, a body long stripped of any pretence of independence, has dutifully voted to extend the president’s stranglehold on power. The motion passed with the predictable, servile efficiency of a rubber stamp.
One is reminded of the late Roman Empire, where the Senate would cheerfully acclaim each new emperor, knowing full well they were merely ratifying a coup. The parallels are striking: a hollowed-out institution, a leader drunk on power, and a populace left to watch the charade unfold. The president, whose grip on the country has been absolute for decades, now tightens his hold further.
The constitution, that sacred document of a fledgling democracy, is treated as a mere inconvenience. This is not governance; it is a staged performance, a theatre of the absurd. The MPs, many of whom owe their positions to the president’s favour, voted with the enthusiasm of men who know their pensions depend on it.
Meanwhile, the economy crumbles, the people suffer, and the world looks on with a mixture of pity and contempt. Zimbabwe has become a case study in the decadence of post-colonial strongmen. The intellectual bankruptcy of the ruling elite is matched only by its moral cowardice.
One wonders if these MPs ever pause to consider the historical judgment that awaits them. They will be remembered as the men who killed a country’s hope. But such introspection requires a spine, and in Harare, spines are in short supply.
The extension of presidential power is a death knell for any remaining illusion of democratic transition. The country is now a textbook example of what happens when a liberation movement becomes a tyranny. It is a tragedy, but it is also a choice.
The MPs made theirs. The rest of us can only watch and wait for the inevitable collapse.
