What constitutes resistance?
ZimPundit, writing for Global Voices, comments on the commemorative efforts by churches to mark the first anniversary of Murambatsvina. He cites Acoustic Motorbike as saying, an article titled, ‘Trapped in their own victimhood’, that “marking the ‘one year’ anniversary of this destruction ignores the fact that Murambatsvina is on going”, and goes on to say in the article:
by not integrating an element of resistance and defiance into the “commemorations,” civil society also will not move towards the long term programme it needs to see genuine democratic change in Zimbabwe
I am a fan of Acoustic Motorbike’s writing but I am troubled by this position.
ZimPundit himself commented “there’s still too much pain everywhere for us to take time to mourn right now”.
Both commentators reveal an obvious reluctance to lend full support to the recent commemorative actions and in both responses, there is a tangible note of criticism towards those that did, a suggestion that perhaos it was shortsighted or naive. This stance raises questions for me, and it reminds me of a blog that I have been struggling to write for weeks and weeks now, one that I am finding very difficult to express because it goes to the heart of what I myself, as an ‘activist‘ am doing (or not doing). The question revolving through my mind is ‘what is an activist?’. I am losing touch with what the word means, and I am fast realising that the simple act of ‘doing something’ (i.e. being active) isn’t considered enough by many. Being an ‘activist’ seems to also be about meeting the expectations of others, about attaining a certain ’standard’ of action before efforts are valued.
This thought started to raise itself a few months ago when there was a flurry of comments on this blog from readers about the amount of ‘whinging and moaning’ that went on in the writing here. I thought to myself then that there appeared to be an expectation that, by being part of a group that supported ‘activism‘, the writing should somehow be qualitatively ‘different’. So, I thought, to qualify as an activist, does one have to be eternally cheerful, always putting a positive spin on things to keep people’s ‘fighting spirits’ up? I’ve sat on the thought for a while, because it’s a big topic, and this little bit written here barely touches the surface of the issue for me. I must try and write more about this, but it’s a difficult one for me. I will come back to this issue in a later post …
But for now, in the aftermath of the commemorations, I have this to say.
First, a very simple absolute truth: I wasn’t there! I was not there because I was - much to my relief - unable to attend. But frankly, if I had been able to attend, I still would not have gone because I am scared! My apologies to the readers of this blog who expect braver words from activists, but that’s the flat truth.
I confess this because I want people to understand that those who did turn out were far far braver than I (and the hundreds of thousands of others who also did not turn out).
Acoustic Motorbike’s criticism is that the commemorations were somehow flawed, missed a trick, because they did not ‘integrate an element of resistance and defiance’. I picked up on that when I titled this post: ‘What constitutes resistance?’ For me, the biggest hurdle I have to overcome when it comes to peaceful non-violent civil disobediance is my own fear, and my fear for the safety of people I love. I do take calculated risks, and the risks I take are probably never big enough. Isn’t the ability to overcome fear a form of resistance in and of itself? Isn’t the ability to march in spite of fear a form of defiance?
Even if you think that that isn’t true, that the marching was passive, I would like to point out that there WAS unequivocal defiance on the march, evident in the words of a poem published on this blog a few days ago. Please keep in mind when you read these words that the poet himself read this out to a wide audience, and he read it in the presence of the watchful threatening police - possibly some of the same compassionless cruel individuals who destroyed homes, and threatened people when they wanted to save their precious items.
Aren’t these words, in that context, a clear example of directly challenging the police, warning them, and therefore an act of defiance?
May 2005, Remember
They came with baton sticks,
With teargas, with clenched fists
And with outstretched boots
They came with armored cars,
With AK’s and FNs
But yes we remembered
That we wrestle not against flesh and blood
The children of God armed
Themselves not with swords, spears and guns
We armed ourselves with the weapons of love[...]
May 2005 we remember those no longer with us, those who have graduated to the Father
We remember those from Ngozi Mine and Killarney
What shall we say Baby Paradza, of Ernest Moyo of Macingwane
What shall we say of Smart Moyo, Margaret Tshabalala, Elias Mbedzi, Luke Mpofu, Thabani Jele ?
Where are they today ?
They lie dead and buried
But the truth can never be buried
But the truth can never be buried
Truth buried in the ground shall rise again
‘okulempondo akufihlwa’
Many of us spend a great deal of time trying to convince people around the world that writing a letter to their MP, writing to their newspapers, making a donation to a worthwhile organisation, are all forms of taking an active interest in what’s happening in Zimbabwe. Become active, we say! But how credible is that position if we even hint at undermining the active efforts that others are making? Isn’t it possible that people, rather than being emboldened by a small step forward will feel more reluctant to try again in the future?
Turning to ZimPundit’s position: my response is deeply personal. I knew several people who were killed during the Gukuruhundi. It appalls me that foreign people around the world - especially fellow Africans - do not know what the Gukuruhundi was about. If the average African person knew that Mugabe and his thugs had embarked on a deliberate military operation to mass kill thousands of innocent civilians in our country then I think that his actions today during Murambatsvina and in the years preceeding would be seen in an entirely different light. They would know that he was behaving like a violent, repressive and very cruel dictator. It would be much harder for African people to retain an idea of him as a person who liberates and champions freedom. He does not deserve that reputation at all.
Is it not possible that we all collectively failed the victims. Maybe ordinary Zimbabweans didn’t remember the Gukuruhundi loudly and frequently enough in our own country. Maybe we turned a blind eye thus setting a precident for the international community, and we have only ourselves to blame for the fact that it has become a dark shadow in our history, silently lurking and ever present and haunting us still.
Is it to soon to grieve? A year is both an eternity and an instant. For those enduring the hardship of cold winters without a home, ill health and no money for food, every single day must feel like a life sentence in hell. And yet, the pictures in the previous post show how quickly nature can spin around and erase all evidence of the lives of many. If those satellite images had been taken two years later - when the grieving was over (or how long is long enough) - it may look as if no one had ever lived there at all: fragile human existances simply erased.
I think world politics and world memories are like nature. Zimbabweans may be grieving and in pain, but we cannot let the world forget. We cannot allow the ‘nature’ of world politics to churn on relentlessly, and we cannot risk that Murambatsvina ends up assigned to the ‘it happened in the past’ category in the same way that the Gukurhundi has been. My view is we cannot remember often enough, we cannot remember loudly enough, and any effort to remember, no matter how small, is very important. It adds up.
And for those living out a day to day eternity in hell? What is that like? Do they wake up every day with hope that someone out there will be able to help just a little bit that day, or do they, facing the hundredth day of misery, conclude with utter misery and disbelief that no one cares at all, and that their lives and experiences are worthless? I suspect that many have long concluded that the world doesn’t care, they have probably given up hope and are simply surviving now.
But if the marches on the first anniversary demonstrated to a even a small handful of victims that efforts were being made, that a small number of brave souls were determined to not forget, then it must count for a lot. If all those marches showed was that some cared, and they cared deeply, then that surely has to be applauded and supported.
A shout in the dark, when you’re lost and frightened and utterly alone, is priceless and perhaps that single faint shout is all a person needs to hang onto until the dawn comes and brings light again. We need to keep shouting - and it would help hugely if we all shouted together.
June 1st, 2006 18:34
The problem with your argument is that the world doesn’t know about Zimbabwe, so it has nothing to ‘remember’. Unlike places like Nepal and Palestine, the world is not aware of mass resistance to Mugabe in Zimbabwe. The occasional BBC article doesn’t help towards this.
When there is revolution in the air, when mass strikes, mass civil disobedience, or even mass armed resistance appears, then the world will know, and more people will read around and discover the terrible history of Mugabe and his cronies. Until then, only those with special interests in the region will know or understand.
Human rights abuses occur all over the world. The media barely pays attention to them unless there is large-scale resistance. That is why it is so important for people to organize, to show a support base for resisters. That is what allows people to overcome their fears and get out into the streets.
Yes, every act you mentioned, especially the public reading of that poem, is an act of defiance. However, there is a difference between defiance and resistance.
I am not attempting to preach here. Perhaps the Zimbabwean public is not yet ready for revolution. These acts must come from inside, not from people like me who sit far away at their computers and comment. Please do not interpret my words as admonishment. I admire and support what you write and what you do. Each person does what he/she can do. Thank you for your wonderful work and amazing writing. Thank you for providing a resource for people who are interested and worried about Zimbabwe and its people.
June 2nd, 2006 01:25
Hope - A silent march to commemorate an injustice is certainly a form of activism. And where ‘resistance’ can very likely result in imprisonment or death, even small, silent gestures of ‘activism’ show caring support.
But the defeatist drumbeat from Zimbabwe seems to focus on what the “international community” is going to do about the plight of the Zimbabwe people, and for many non-Zimbabweans such expectations are masking a weak tendency to scape-goat a hard, cold reality: It is YOUR country, it is your people, and it is your culture and philosophy which must be the solution to Zimbabwe’s problems. Even the most casual review of the “international community’s” complete failures to help in Rwanda and Darfur until too late suggests that hoping for outside help is simply expressing a palliative defeatism.
The Zimbabwe people deserve a better government. However, there is also an old saw that says that we all get the government that we deserve. Which implies, if our government is not what we want, do something to fix it, or toss the bums out!
The very first thing to do is to fix our thinking, our philosophy. If we adopt the defeatist thinking that outsiders are the cure, nothing positive will be accomplished. No army was ever victorious, no nation was ever formed, no people have ever achieved greatness by whining, scapegoating, making excuses or wallowing in pessimism.
One pro-active suggestion for Zimbabwe freedom: adopt a symbol. Islam has a green flag, recognizable everywhere in the world. Socialism has a red flag, also universally recognized. Consider adopting variants of the color blue, as a silent symbol for freedom. Are there Zimbabweans who fear marching or demonstrating who would instead be willing to wear a blue scarf on their head, or a blue shirt or blouse? Perhaps carry a blue flag in a march, or wear a bolt of blue as a silent symbol of their THINKING, of their philosophy! Imagine the eventual effect of an entire nation of people walking down their streets during the day and nodding to one another silently whenever they see a blue ribbon in the other’s hair, or pinned to a shirt. How about wearing something blue to church services every Sunday? Our world is a blue marble encased in a blue sky: that means, freedom is universal.
Get a positive philosophy, a positive Zimbabwean philosophy, adopt a symbol of that philosophy, and then watch the growing positive results.
Freedom has NEVER come from without, or from pessimistic, defeatist thinking. Always, freedom is earned, by dedicated personal effort to a positive philosophy.
‘Be free.’
‘a Duoist’
http://www.duoism.org
June 2nd, 2006 15:08
Thanks to both of you for your comments. I must say, however, that the purpose of the post you’ve each commented on was to respond to observations from two Zimbabwean bloggers. In particular: 1/ The commemorative marches lacked an element of either resistance or defiance and ignored the fact that Murumbatsvina was still going on, and 2/ that the timing was all wrong and it was to soon to commemorate because we were still in mourning.
My position on this is that, in a country which sees so little PUBLIC action, that any attempt to do so should be supported and applauded. The value of that action was not only that it was public, but also because it was openly challenging towards the police (witness the poem and the determination to go ahead regardless), and because it sent a signal to the isolated victims that, despite the fact they may feel totally ignored and forgotten, and despite that fact that Murumbatsvina is still continuing, that there are individuals determined to demonstrate that they remember, that they care, and that they will not forget.
You both seem to agree with me to a certain extent that this commemorative action was worthwhile and should have gone ahead.
However, some of the thoughts you’ve respectively expressed have strayed off the immediate topic of this post, and point instead towards the post I say I’ve been meaning to write but have been struggling to articulate. So I’m going to stop talking about it now and try and write something, even if its just a start, and post it up in the next couple of days. I’ll pick up on some of the things you’ve said then…
Until then - many thanks,
Hope
June 11th, 2006 18:10
Hope,
I must apologize for not responding to this post much earlier. I just haven’t been able to do much over the past week.
Thank you for your passionate and authentic input. I for one believe that part of the reason why Zimbabwe’s civic action quorum has failed to rise above lukewarm mediocrity is becuase of a marked absence of self evaluation you do at the start of this post. There isn’t enough gutt checking going on among the activists. So we continue to float in meaningless mediocrity and can’t really acheive much. Can you imagine what it would like if we all engaged in the introspection that led Jenny Williams, and hundreds of other brave women to enthusiastically choose to die than to live in chaos wrought on us by this callous regime?
Those are just my thoughts on your internal struggles. I endorse it.
In as far as your critique both Accoustic Motorbike’s and my response to the languid commerations that took place, I have to say that I will have to respectfully disagree with you.
You seem convinced that I was neccesarily being “against the commerations.” This is not the case, as you will note right at the beginning of my remarks on the commeration, I begin by complaining that small events that did occur did not enough support from the people,
In other words, they weren’t commeration enough. I want us to remember, I want us to honor the value of every single human life we have needlessly lost over the last seven years.
My piece, rather than being a rebuttle of those who did turnout for the commeration marches, was an exploration of possible reasons why the commerations didn’t engender public support. Maybe fear, as in your case, was the chief culprit. I happened to notice from my vantage point and life experiences that the idea of “face-saving” and an unwillingness to concede that we cannot do anything about our problems as a nation seemed appropriate as reasons for why the nation wasn’t ready to mourn yet.
Interestingly, your post does not deal with significant cultural aspect.
Further, with Accoustic Motorbike’s response you quickly conclude that her opposition to the commeration stemmed out of her perception that there wasn’t enough defiance in the marches. On the contrary, I would agree with you that those who did show symbolized defiance. I believe everyday you and do what we do we are doing so in abject deviance of the powers that be. However, you sidestepped another important issue she brought up; namely that Murambatsvina is still going on today.
What I think she was saying is not that we should not commemorate, but that it was too early to do so.
August 16th, 2007 23:28
Having just seen footage on BBC News of the meeting of African Leaders it is was disbelief and then disgust that I observed their cowardice in the face of the tyrant Mugabe. My ueart goes out to the oppressed and suffering citizens of that desolated land. AFRICA AWAKE to the tyranny of some of your leaders and ACT NOW.
yours most sincerely
N. Pikes