Makandiwa statement on Mnangagwa is fundamentally flawed, dangerous to democracy, and misleads the nation

Tendai Ruben Mbofana

The statement by Prophet Emmanuel Makandiwa publicly commending President Emmerson Mnangagwa for his “unique heart” in his treatment of the late Robert Mugabe’s family is not merely a religious observation; it is a profound distortion of both democratic principles and theological integrity. 

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By framing the safety and comfort of the former first family as the ultimate litmus test for a leader’s character, Makandiwa attempts to rewrite the narrative of the 2017 military intervention and the nature of state power itself. 

This rhetoric, delivered from a pulpit to a captive congregation, seeks to replace the cold requirements of constitutional accountability with a warm, fuzzy sentimentality that serves only the interests of the ruling elite. 

It is an interrogation of this logic that reveals a dangerous move toward deifying political leaders under the guise of “paternal respect” while ignoring the fundamental role of a president as a servant of the people.

To understand the gravity of this misdirection, one must first dismantle the “forgiveness” and “containing power” trap that Makandiwa so expertly lays. 

The cleric suggests that Mnangagwa’s restraint is a sign of a “unique heart” because he did not exact revenge on the man who fired him. 

“I know what power does when it’s now you in authority, and there is somebody now under you who once fired you,” Makandiwa told his congregation, reducing the governance of a nation to a personal drama of vendettas and pardons. 

This is a profound misdirection. 

In a state governed by the rule of law, “forgiveness” is not a presidential prerogative to be handed out to political predecessors. 

A president does not “forgive” a predecessor for their actions in office; that is the role of the law and the judiciary. 

By framing the safety of the Mugabe family as an act of personal “mercy,” Makandiwa suggests that the safety of citizens is subject to the temperament of the man in power, rather than being guaranteed by the constitution. 

What he labels as a “unique heart,” political analysts rightly identify as pragmatism. 

Harassing the Mugabe family would have alienated the “old guard” within ZANU-PF and sparked a backlash from regional bodies like SADC. 

Furthermore, protecting a former leader is often a strategic move to ensure that current leaders receive the same immunity once they leave office.

This narrative of the “good-hearted” leader relies on a selective interpretation of character that falls apart under historical scrutiny. 

Makandiwa asserts that “no evil man” would ensure the safety of a predecessor’s family. 

This is a stunningly naïve metric for judging the moral fiber of a political leader. 

History is replete with notorious figures who displayed immense kindness to their inner circles while presiding over systems of terror. 

History tells us that even Adolf Hitler was known for his personal charm, his compassion for animals, and his loyalty to certain associates. 

Pablo Escobar, the ruthless drug lord whose reign resulted in the deaths of thousands, was a legend in Medellin because he built schools, sports facilities, and homes for the poor. 

Does the fact that Escobar built a school make him a “man of a unique heart” in the eyes of God? 

Does the fact that history records Hitler as a charming gentleman to ladies mean he was not an “evil man”?

Of course not. 

A true man of God is expected to look beyond the “white-washed tombs” of outward gestures. 

Jesus explicitly warned that “by their fruits you shall know them”—and “fruit” in a national context refers to justice, righteousness, and the treatment of the least in society, not just the treatment of the former elite.

The cleric’s attempt to transplant traditional patriarchal structures onto the modern nation-state further weakens his argument. 

He suggests that Mnangagwa’s restraint is a sign of a “unique heart” because “fathers should never be touched.” 

This is a fundamental mischaracterization of the office of the President. 

In a family, a father’s authority may be seen as absolute, but a country is not a family, and a president is not a father. 

In any functional democracy, the president is a public servant mandated by the electorate to execute specific duties and remains, at all times, answerable to the citizens. 

The authority he wields is not his own; it is borrowed from the people and governed by the supreme law of the land, making the leader a subordinate to the public will rather than a master over it.

When a religious leader tells a nation that their leader is a “father” who is “untouchable,” he is effectively telling the citizens that they are children who have no right to demand accountability. 

This is a betrayal of the democratic struggle and the principle of one man, one vote. 

To suggest that a leader’s greatness is measured by his mercy toward his predecessor is to imply that the presidency is a personal fiefdom where one’s predecessor is a relative to be protected, rather than a public official whose record should be open to scrutiny.

Furthermore, Makandiwa’s interrogation of the 2017 transition is intellectually dishonest. 

He argues that because the transfer of power was “non-lethal” and involved “persuasion” and “meetings,” it cannot be characterized as a conventional coup. 

This is a distinction without a difference that deliberately ignores the fact that Mugabe was under military house arrest and acting under extreme duress. 

The hallmark of a coup d’état is not the number of bodies in the street, but the illegal and overt seizure of state power by the military or other state elites. 

A transition can be “bloodless” in the streets but “lethal” to the constitution and the rule of law. 

By focusing on the “non-lethal” nature and a forced resignation, Makandiwa aligns with the official government narrative of “Operation Restore Legacy,” avoiding the legal and constitutional implications of military intervention in civilian governance.

He asks, “Why save a man? Why persuade? Why resignations?” 

The answer is not “a unique heart,” but a calculated effort to provide a veneer of legitimacy while the underlying power structure remains firmly in the hands of the military-backed establishment.

The most egregious failure in Makandiwa’s sermon is the prophetic silence regarding the systemic suffering of the masses. 

While the Mugabe family may be “safe,” as Makandiwa proudly declares, he fails to ask if the millions of ordinary Zimbabweans are safe from poverty, safe from a collapsing healthcare system, or safe from the erosion of their fundamental rights. 

To judge a man’s “heart” as “unique” based on his treatment of a fellow member of the ruling class is to ignore the plight of the millions living under that same authority. 

This suggests that the “prophetic” voice in this context has been repurposed to serve as a public relations tool for the state, directing the congregation to look at a singular act of “mercy” toward an elite family so that they might overlook the broader democratic and moral responsibilities of the state.

Ultimately, Makandiwa’s statement functions as political hagiography. 

By painting the President as a merciful “son” who honored his “father” Robert Mugabe, he creates a spiritual shield that deflects criticism of how power was obtained or how it is currently exercised. 

He encourages the public to look at the “safe” Mugabe family as a distraction from the unsafe reality of the average citizen. 

It is a logic that prioritizes the comfort of the few over the rights of the many and seeks to convince the electorate that they should be grateful for a leader who chooses not to be vindictive, rather than demanding a leader who is a faithful servant. 

In a true democracy, we do not need leaders with “unique hearts” who treat their predecessors like royalty; we need leaders with a profound respect for the constitution who treat every citizen with the dignity and justice they are owed. 

Anything less is just a performance of piety intended to keep the people in their place.

• Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. To directly receive his articles please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08