What are they hiding?

Actually, we all know the answer.

What are they hiding?

When I saw a picture of the new parliament building I was reminded of the time, just after the 1985 election, I bumped into Chen Chimutengwende outside the old parliament building and asked him how he achieved the phenomenal majority (about 140% of the electorate) he got in his Mazowe (was it?) constituency.

What revived that memory? Is there some connection between that incident 20 years ago and this new building? A connection, or a contrast? If you try to approach that building you discover it was built to prevent an incident like that remembered encounter. Not just that; it is designed to make any contact between those people inside it and the everyday life of us on the outside difficult, if not impossible. That makes it sound like a prison. Maybe it is, but it is a curious kind of inside out prison. The size and proportions of the building make anyone approaching it aware that it is a symbol of power, a power that dwarfs us individuals.

What must working inside it be like? They are on a hill, protected by fences and all sorts of security devices, looking down on the rest of us. They are part of the machine we call government. We, outside, are the governed and we are meant to be overawed by its size and by the elaborate precautions taken to keep us at a distance.

It tells us that we are not qualified, we are not worthy, to walk inside those majestic halls. Those inside have power, those outside it do not. We are the prisoners if we let those inside dictate to us, prisoners of a system of government in which only those who live in vast mansions, hidden and protected by high walls, electric fences and guards who often carry guns. Who was it who said that power comes out of the barrel of a gun?

But stop a moment. We still have laws in this country, and a constitution which says we are all equal under the law. But not for long if some of those rich enough to be accepted inside that building have their way. The people who drew up the Constitution Amendment Bill nr 3 tell us the problem is politics; they can’t do their job of developing the country if their plans are interrupted by elections every five years, or so they say. Elections, they say, are an obstacle to development.

If five years between elections don’t leave time for governing, what will prevent the campaign period expanding to fill seven years this Bill proposes?

What is there to prevent them deciding that they will rule even better if they keep lengthening the time between elections, keeping themselves in power till Kingdom Come? The answer is section 328 paragraph (6) of the Constitution we voted for, which says terms in office of elected officials can only be changed by a referendum; only if we vote for change. Paragraph (7) says no-one, not the President, not the whole parliament has the power to lengthen their own term in office. If they want to do that, no amount of “notwithstanding” changes anything; it can only be done by the people in another referendum.

That’s not the whole story. The section of the Bill that seems to arouse most opposition cancels our right to elect a president. That task would now be given to parliament, people on the inside of the power citadel. Next time will they try to stop us from electing MPs? Maybe they don’t need to; see how the last few elections were rigged.

They have dodged even the requirement to consult us by public meetings and written responses. How many readers knew they could write what they think about the Bill and send it to Parliament? If you did, did you hear in time to respond?

The deadline for our responses has passed. They have dodged most of the constitutional obstacles, but all is not lost. We may need new tactics, but plenty of people are not satisfied and will not stay quiet