The world is wide enough

Tennis
“NOW I’m the villain in your history. I was too young and blind to see. I should have known.  I should have known the world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me. The world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me.”

Bernard Mukwaira lawyer

“NOW I’m the villain in your history. I was too young and blind to see. I should have known.  I should have known the world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me. The world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me.”

These are lyrics from the penultimate song of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hit musical Hamilton. Often I have reflected on those sad lyrics and time and time again I keep coming back to the tragedy of Zimbabwe’s political economy, which can be described as a rent-based, patronal model of wealth creation and power relations.

A rent-based, patronal model wealth of creation and power relations political economy is a political economy dominated by strong political actors. The line between political and economic elites is elided to the point of non-existence.

Elites benefit from state-sponsored ‘first-mover advantages’ and state sanctioned protected competitive positions. This is an environment that rewards scale, rather than efficiency, and in which fortunes are made by exploiting uncertainty (primarily the uncertainty of others). It is in effect deinstitutional and ought to be familiar to anyone who lives or has lived in Zimbabwe.

It is received wisdom in some quarters to situate Zimbabwean economic failures to the late 1990s and early 2000. This is mistaken in his blog here, the economist, Tinashe Murapata does well to delineate the Zimbabwean economic crisis from its antecedents in the statism engineered by Ian Smith and the Rhodesian Front government.

He identifies four fundamental issues of Smithian economics, which remain true to this day albeit in a more degenerative way, namely net outward migration, state monopolies dominating industry structure, a hawkish foreign policy and more tyrannical domestic policy as well as state sponsored corruption.

The Rhodesian Front became a vehicle of white insecurity in Africa and tragically plunged the land into a 56-year crisis. A pitiful irony as recounted by Alan Megahey in his biography of Sir Humphrey Gibbs (the last governor of Southern Rhodesia) is that most white liberal industrialists, educationalists and most of the top newspaper people as well as leaders of the various Christian denominations were acutely aware of what needed to be done and what was at stake.

Sadly, they lacked the ruthlessness necessary to force public opinion in their direction, or the opportunity and power to bridge the chasm of suspicion and animosity, which divided black from white. Nationalist leaders largely drawn from teachers, nurses, and low-ranking civil servants as well as other educated blacks frustrated by the segregationist policies of white Rhodesia, which hindered upward social mobility had no recourse but to turn to an armed struggle.

When majority rule came in 1980, one would have assumed and hoped that the economy would be more open and that state monopolies would be done away with. Yet surprisingly, regulations introduced by the Smith regime in a wartime economy context were strengthened.

A severe tax regime was used to discourage foreign investors from competing with government-owned companies. Currency regulations were enforced to prevent foreign-owned companies from repatriating profits.

Wages and pricing policies were effectively deployed against foreign investors who could not run their businesses profitably. It is often suggested that Zanu PF’s official socialist ideology justified a stronger direct and indirect control of the economy in the 1980s.

Daniel Compagnon however, in A Predictable Tragedy — Robert Mugabe and the Collapse of Zimbabwe, compellingly  argues that a socialist transformation of Zimbabwe’s economy was not the new elite’s primary objective despite redundant rhetoric.

A bloated public sector proved a valuable resource for political patronage.  State intervention in various economic sectors created opportunities for members of the ruling class to enrich and position themselves for co-option. It was only ‘natural’ that those who had sacrificed for the struggle deserved significant reward. And to enjoy the spoils of the struggle, one had to toe the correct political line.

That the pursuit of absolute power and self-enrichment became the ultimate goal is further demonstrated by the lack of an imaginative policy framework to promote the advancement of black entrepreneurship. How else can we explain that not all pre-existing Rhodesian limitations to the growth of black businesses were removed?

James Mushore, the former CEO of NMB, one of the first black-owned banks related to Trevor Ncube on the latter’s eponymous YouTube show that when NMB first applied for a banking licence, they were asked by the regulators whether black people knew anything about banking.

On to the early 1990s when there was a growing public finances crisis, political elites shifted their accumulation strategies and indigenisation of the private sector. This would be the new vehicle for wealth-accumulation.

Political elites would use indigenisation to maintain power as they intensified capital accumulation. Nevertheless, during that period young and well-educated blacks with an institutional outlook emerged. They were prepared to take advantage of the new market oriented economy. What separated them from the deinstitutional political businesspeople was that they were genuine entrepreneurs with business acumen and skill.

Names which come to mind include the aforementioned James Mushore, the late Douglas Munatsi, Julius Makoni, Nigel Chanakira et al but the most prominent is by far, Strive Masiyiwa, the first black billionaire to enter the Sunday Times Rich List.

Masiyiwa’s founding of Econet and subsequent hounding by state agencies and pariah-treatment is well documented but what explains the hostility towards him? He had come to the attention of security agencies after he had obtained a loan from the International Finance Corporation (IFC), a subsidiary of the World Bank on the merits of his business instead of going through political channels.

He would later on decide to enter the mobile phone market in Zimbabwe and thus challenge the first mover advantage of political businesspeople. Econet Wireless would go on to post dividends after only a year in operation, have the leading market share and expand operations to other African countries.

Whereas rival networks managed by political businessmen would suffer various technical and financial problems. Telecel for example went bankrupt. Could it be envy or that by refusing to play by the unwritten rules of the political entrepreneurs, Masiyiwa exposed the corrupt nature of the Zanu PF regime, which explains the animus towards him?

There is perhaps a deeper and more profound reason for the hostility that led Zimbabwe’s most successful entrepreneur more than 20 years ago to flee persecution, never to return to the country of his birth.

The teleology of political elites with a deinstitutional mindset is accumulation upon accumulation. Compared to genuine entrepreneurs, their starting point is how to acquire even more wealth. Whereas, true entrepreneurs seek to meet a need and solve problems. Here wealth flows naturally from meeting needs and solving problems.

Entrepreneurs, who are institutionally minded welcome competition not only because they recognise that the world is wide enough but that competition makes them better at what they do and more efficient.

Masiyiwa’s crime was daring to reveal the possibility of a different Zimbabwe — an institutional Zimbabwe for that matter. Ironically, Masiyiwa who had intended to be apolitical by saying no to paying bribes in order to support his bid and garner protection, unwittingly took a political stance.

Deeply entrenched in Zanu PF’s psyche is deinstitutional thinking so much so that it taints anyone who has ever associated with the political party. In the treasure trove that is the Mushore interview with Trevor Ncube, we discover that Mushore was appointed Town Clerk by the Harare City Council but the then local government, public works and national housing minister Saviour Kasukuwere rescinded the appointment the same day.

It was not just fear that Mushore would expose corruption that scuttled the appointment. Kasukuwere made it clear that Harare Town Clerk was the second biggest job in the country and he, Kasukuwere, wanted to make sure whoever had the job was ‘one of us’.

Kasukuwere ever the deinstitutionalist would not countenance the appointment of someone who played by the rules and who would jeopardise patronage opportunities. It is somewhat mystifying that in some circles Kasukuwere is perceived as a political Messiah who will transform Zanu PF — perhaps a case of misplaced nominative determinism. Mirth aside, there are negative consequences to deinstitutional thought and governance, which include poor service delivery, dilapidated infrastructure and lack of opportunities for citizens who want to get ahead in life.

Worse still, deinstitutionalists will stop at nothing to preserve their rule and ill-gotten gains. On March 29, 2008, Zimbabweans voted in their millions for the late Morgan Tsvangirai. After a month had passed, the electoral authorities declared that Tsvangirai indeed received the most votes but not enough to avoid a run-off.

Mugabe needed a war chest for the run-off and the scourge of British imperialists turned to London for salvation. Tom Burgis, an FT journalist, in his gripping read Kleptopia documents how Billy Rautenbach engineered a scheme where the Mugabe regime under the guise of ‘indigenisation’  leaned on Anglo American to surrender a choice platinum prospect.

Ironically the prospect was surrendered to the son of a wealthy Rhodesian who was a sanction buster for Ian Smith but not to benefit ordinary Zimbabweans. The mine was sold by Rautenbach to Camec, a mining company registered in the UK and headquartered in London.  Rautenbach in turn paid $100 million to the Mugabe regime. The $100 million was then used by the regime to finance Operation Makavhoterapapi.

Goons were unleashed on those who had voted for the opposition. More than a hundred people died and thousands were detained and/or tortured. Tsvangirai would pull out of what was a violent, illegitimate sham of an election process. These are the fruits of deinstitutional rule.

Innocent lives lost. Citizens maimed and butchered for daring to exercise their natural and constitutional right to select a government of their choice. All for the sake of retaining power at all costs and the benefits which accrue from it.

Is there any hope for Zimbabwe? Deinstitutional thinking permeates almost every institution in the country. It will take time to minimise deinstitutional norms and practice but with patience, grace and hope it can be done.

There remain pockets of institutional thinking, which provide reassurance that things can change. Ordinary citizens have a role to play in making Zimbabwe more institutional. Judge politicians and their policy ideas on the basis of whether they create conditions conducive to human flourishing and encourage competition within a rules-based framework.

Mediating institutions where moral formation occurs such as schools and churches should be chosen only if they espouse and promote institutional values. To the best of your abilities and as far as is possible, surround yourself, be it socially and professionally, with people who have institutional attitudes.

It may be difficult, painful and culturally almost impossible but relationships which impede progress and encourage deinstitutional norms will need to be excised. On a positive note; embrace competition and offer support to and encourage others. The world is wide enough for me and you to succeed.

Mukwaira read law at universities in Edinburgh and London.  He lives and works in London and the views expressed in this article are personal and do not reflect the views of his employer.