| Page 2 of 3 < > |
An Outcast Plots Return In Zimbabwe
|
Discussion Policy
Comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions. You are fully responsible for the content that you post.
|
During the same appearance, Mugabe also suggested that Moyo had plotted a coup in his final days as information minister, meeting with senior military commanders and doing "terrible things."
The Chronicle, which Moyo once controlled, fixed on a potentially embarrassing detail in Mugabe's account: When Moyo was privately confronted with evidence of his duplicity, the president said, "tears started flowing down his cheeks."
In the interview, Moyo stopped short of denying a coup plot. He acknowledged that as information minister he had often met with senior military commanders. Asked whether they had discussed a coup, he said, "I will not dignify any of that stuff with any comment right now."
As for his supposed tears during the meeting with Mugabe, Moyo declined to confirm the account but said, "It might be a reflection on his cruelty. . . . Is his office a torture chamber?"
In the 1990s, Moyo became known as an academic critic of Mugabe. But during his five years with the government, he was often described as the author of laws that restricted even the most basic political actions, such as handing out campaign materials or knocking on doors. His harsh media law led to the arrests of journalists and the shutting of several newspapers.
Trevor Ncube, who owns two of the three remaining independent weekly papers in Zimbabwe, was a close friend of Moyo's before Moyo joined the government. Ncube said he watched in astonishment as Moyo transformed himself while in power.
"On paper, this person knows about democracy, but in office he has a streak that is worrisome. This streak is very dictatorial, very cruel," Ncube said. "He will not stop at anything to get in power."
The end of Moyo's career in government can be traced to a ruling party meeting in November where he backed a candidate for vice president who was not favored by Mugabe. Moyo soon found himself marginalized, and in February he announced that he would leave the party to run for parliament. Mugabe promptly fired him and gave him 48 hours to vacate his government house.
While Moyo is regarded within Zimbabwe's political community as a brainy ideological chameleon, he insisted in the interview that he had not changed his views. He joined the ruling party, he said, at a time when it was open to democratic reforms after nearly losing to the opposition in 2000. He left this year, he insisted, after becoming convinced that the party was reverting to its old, undemocratic ways.
Whatever the truth, Moyo's treatment of his home town during his years in power has the look of a plan.
Like most of rural southern Zimbabwe, Tsholotsho was neglected after Mugabe took power in 1980. Unemployment is estimated at 80 percent. Many young adults are idle or have left to find work in South Africa or Botswana. Food is in short supply.
But unlike most towns its size, Tsholotsho has a paved road to the nearest city. It has electrical lines and street lights. The schools have computers. Many here say all this was Moyo's doing.





