Hope, Pessimism : Zimbabwe: Whites Still Find a Place

The old Belgian FN assault rifle, its green plastic stock scratched and scarred, stood propped against a fence post. A few feet away, its owner, Tony Rosenfels, looked on as four of his workmen put up a new gate at the boundary of the family property. A pistol hung from a heavy leather belt at his waist.

A stiff wind bent the tall, tawny grass and sang through the limbs of the trees, bare now at the end of winter in the Southern Hemisphere. A workman’s pick chunked into the dusty rock around the gateposts. Rosenfels, 30, backed away, arms folded, watching.

In the past five years, 17 white farmers have been killed here in Matabeleland, mostly in ambushes, and Tony Rosenfels is determined that it will not happen to him. He figures that not in 60 days in the past five years has his rifle, fully loaded, been more than 20 feet from him. It is the same weapon he carried through the war, the one now called the “War of Liberation” in Zimbabwe. Tony Rosenfels was not on the winning side.

‘I Want to Die Here’

“You know, I was born here,” he said, “right up the road. And I want to die here. I’m happy. My men are happy. I’m going to be married, come the first of the year. And I can’t think of a better place to raise kids than right here. Can you?”

It took 15 years of international ostracism and seven years of war before the whites of Rhodesia (as it was known then) submitted to the idea of a black-run government of the majority. Now, five years after Rhodesia became independent Zimbabwe, 130,000 whites have left the country. The 140,000 who remain--they still form the backbone of the country’s economy--stay on more out of hope than faith that their future, and the nation’s, is in good hands.

Men like Tony Rosenfels pack two guns and talk of a bright tomorrow.

Focus on South Africa

With the attention of much of the world focused on the racial conflict in neighboring South Africa, the experience of whites in Zimbabwe, who were once the minority rulers of this country, seems to take on an added relevance. There are many fundamental differences--sociological, political and economic--between the two countries.

Perhaps the most important difference was in the white settlers themselves. The Afrikaners, primarily of Dutch, Flemish and French-Huguenot stock, arrived in South Africa in the 17th Century and pursued their conquest of the land with a kind of fundamentalist religious intensity. The motivation of the English, who came to Rhodesia 200 years later, was essentially mercantile, and in that they followed the vision of entrepreneur Cecil Rhodes. He saw his colony as a “civilizing influence” and one that would enrich the power and glory of the British Empire.

Still, a basic question is common to both: Can a white community, having forcibly resisted the change to black rule for so long, find a comfortable and productive place in the new order, when it finally comes? Despite 130,000 whites’ having answered that question with their feet, the short-term answer in Zimbabwe is positive.

Whites are still clearly at the top of the economic order. White farmers alone account for 40% of the country’s export earnings. Whites have held on to their businesses and property. White farmlands now in the hands of African peasants have been bought, by the new government, on a willing-buyer, willing-seller basis.

The white suburbs of Harare and Bulawayo, the two largest cities, seem as secure as ever, and they reflect, in their swimming pools and tennis courts and well-tended gardens, one of the highest standards of living in Africa. In the view of both blacks and whites, race relations, at least on the surface, are excellent.

The pillars of the white community in Zimbabwe--the important businessmen, trade association spokesmen, farmers and “moderate” political figures--take pains to shower praise on the intelligence of the country’s prime minister, Robert Mugabe, “the only leader for this country.” The same enthusiasm does not extend to Mugabe’s professed Marxist or socialist goals for Zimbabwe, but these are excused by the white Establishment as mere rhetoric. Their standard disclaimer for Mugabe is, “Watch what he does, not what he says.” Or they will say, usually for attribution, if they are talking with a journalist, “Frankly, I think Mugabe’s got too much sense to try to make this a socialist state.”

More Open Pessimism

Anyone inquiring into such matters in Zimbabwe soon learns that a significant gap exists between what is said for public consumption and what is said privately, often by the same individuals. Those persons less attuned to the concerns of positive public relations are more openly pessimistic.

“Well, it’s going to hell, isn’t it?” said a white insurance company employee spending a weekend with his family on Lake Kariba in the north of the country. “I mean, it’s what always happens with black governments in Africa, you know.

“Just take the civil service: It’s trebled in size and is one-third as efficient. I know why he (Mugabe) is doing it. He has to find jobs for the comrades, doesn’t he? There you have it. We’ll stay on as long as we can, but I can’t honestly say there’s any future here for my kids.”

A demonstration of the difference between the public and private attitudes of whites came in the June elections for the 20 white seats in Parliament--seats guaranteed to the whites until 1990 by the so-called Lancaster House agreement that led to Zimbabwe’s independence. There were predictions that the Conservative Alliance Party of former Rhodesian Prime Minister Ian Smith would be holding its last hurrah, losing further ground to the white moderates of the Independent Party. However, the reverse was true. Smith’s party won 15 of the 20 seats, sending Mugabe into a fury.

In a series of speeches and television appearances after the vote, Mugabe promised a “cleanup operation so that we remain only with the whites who want to work with the government.” The rest, he said, “can go to South Africa.” The Africans of Zimbabwe, he said, would be deceived no longer.

“I wish to make it very clear today that things are going to be very hard going for the racists of this country, very hard going indeed,” the prime minister said. “We will not allow racists to enjoy the comforts of this country, and those therefore who have voted Ian Smith into Parliament and continue to support him will have no one to blame but themselves.”

When the dust settled, most of the white Establishment pointed out that Mugabe’s statements were issued in the heat of an election campaign, and they once again counseled, “Watch what he does, not what he says.”

Punishment for Whites

What Mugabe did next was to fire his minister of agriculture, Dennis Norman, a white and a man Mugabe himself had praised lavishly for helping to bring Zimbabwe through three years of serious drought, who had presided over what some people regard as a “miracle” in Zimbabwe’s agriculture. Mugabe was clear on the reason for firing Norman. He did it, he said, to “punish” the whites for voting for Smith.

And yet, most analysts here--politicians, journalists and diplomats--regard Smith’s success in the elections as something of a fluke. They point out that Smith’s party, drawing on long experience, was better organized than the newer and clearly overconfident Independents. And the fact that only half of the eligible white electorate turned out to vote worked in Smith’s favor. His party ended with 54% of the vote, far below the 80% it won in other elections.

However, the apathy of the white voter, often remarked on here, is significant, too, for it suggests that many whites--perhaps even most--feel that their place in the political life of the country is disappearing rapidly. It is only a matter of time, they feel, before it vanishes completely.

‘In a Bit of a State’

“Look, we’re in a bit of a state here,” said a young farmer in the southern part of the country. He was sitting in one of the deep leather chairs in the cool parlor of the farmhouse where he was born, trying to find the words to explain. “We don’t really know what is going to happen. We’re hanging on. We want to stay here. I don’t know about politics, I don’t care about politics. I just want to be left alone. Right now, I’m being left alone, so it’s all right.”

The young farmer did not say that politics are unimportant, only that he does not want politics impinging on his life. And politics, in the context of this conversation, means black politics, African politics.

The black politics of Zimbabwe has many whites worried about the long-term future of the country, for it is a basic tenet with many of them that African politics means tribalism, instability, coups d’etat and, ultimately, the slow collapse of the economic base that has made possible their comfortable lives here.

80% of Population

In Zimbabwe, the concern is over the conflicts between the Shona people, who make up about 80% of the country’s 8.4-million population, and the Ndebele people of southern Matabeleland around Bulawayo, who represent about 20% of the population. The Shona are overwhelmingly supporters of Mugabe’s Zimbabwe African National Union (Patriotic Front); the Ndebele follow Joshua Nkomo’s Zimbabwe African People’s Union.

The tribal enmity goes back 150 years, to the time when the Ndebele, an offshoot of Zulu tribes from South Africa, moved northward into this country and fiercely dominated the Shona for generations. Both groups fought the whites for independence but have since been unable to reach a political accommodation with each other. The result has meant continuing political strife and bloodshed in Matabeleland.

Bands of armed “dissidents,” their origins, financing and goals obscure, move about the countryside, the government says, attacking small villages. The government has responded with at least equal force, sending in a brigade of North Korean-trained Shona troops. In 1983, the soldiers’ harsh sweeps through the area left at least 600 and possibly as many as 3,000 Ndebele dead.

Dissident Activity Continues

Perhaps as a result of an international outcry that followed, the army has been calmed down, but dissident activity and government attempts to halt it are continuing. On a recent weekend, the government said, 21 Shona people were killed by dissidents in the southern town of Mwenezi. The government promises a renewed crackdown.

The dissidents are responsible for the deaths of the 17 whites in Matabeleland, and dissidents are the reason why Tony Rosenfels--and, in fact, virtually every white farmer in the area--travels around his property with an automatic rifle at his side. It has been nine months now since the last white farmer was killed in a Matabeleland ambush, although one had to drive off assailants with gunfire in the weekend attack in Mwenizi.

White farmers of the area do not regard the attacks upon them as an expression of racial tension. Rather, they regard them as an attempt to embarrass the government, since the dissidents seem to realize that whites, in fact, have a particular importance here. To the outside world, at least, the death of one white farmer creates a bigger stir than the death of 20 Africans.

Emergency Detention Orders

Government tactics now seem to center on arresting prominent Ndebeles in the south and holding them under the same emergency detention orders that were once employed by Ian Smith against blacks fighting to overthrow his white government. At the moment, six Ndebele city council members are in detention, along with three Ndebele members of Parliament and several of Joshua Nkomo’s bodyguards. Nkomo’s passport has been withdrawn. (The former white mayor of Bulawayo, Michael Constantinos, was arrested the other day, for reasons that the government still has not made clear.)

Some whites believe that the conflict will go on until Mugabe “hammers the Ndebele into submission.” Others believe that the Ndebele will not submit, not ever. And some say that what is going on is not really tribal at all, but personal, a battle of wills between Mugabe and Nkomo. The deep-seated fear is that it will somehow get out of hand.

“We can have coups here, too,” a white businessman in Harare said. “We are not immune. Look at the rest of Africa.”

Other Causes for Concern

While those fears are for the long-term future, some whites have other, more immediate, causes for concern. They say spare parts--for cars and for farm and industrial machinery--are in short supply, and their cost is going up sharply. A farmer in Bulawayo points to a tractor, surrounded by weeds, that has been standing idle for six months for want of a replacement part. Foreign investors, wary of Mugabe’s long-term economic goals, are staying away a while longer, waiting to see. Complaints are growing that public schools and hospitals are deteriorating.

Still, no white in Zimbabwe can deny the comfort in which he lives. The neat streets of Harare and Bulawayo call to mind some easygoing American town in the prairies of Iowa or Kansas. The curbs are painted and the gutters swept clean. The downtown buildings are stolid and modest--no showy skyscrapers of the kind that seem to tarnish and fall apart so quickly in other African capitals.

The businessmen go to their Rotary or Lions lunch and meet on weekends in their clubs--no longer all-white but not exactly bristling with black members--where they talk about the state of the South African currency or their holidays in England or their boats on Lake Kariba. Except for the strong accents, it could be a weekend in suburban America.

A Haze of Purple

And it is lovely, physically. Stands of jacaranda trees, when they bloom, lay a haze of ethereal purple over the streets and parks. Behind the trim hedges and vine-covered walls, residential gardens rest in perfect order, tended by the same gardeners who have tended them for a generation. Over all, there is the somehow vibrant African sky, an infinite blue except where touched with vast white clouds.

“Ah, the weather’s wonderful,” people say. “And this is the worst it gets.”

For blacks, life has improved markedly in many areas. Before independence, there were fewer than 150 secondary schools for black children. Now, there are more than 1,000 of them, and more are on the way. In 1976, only 4.6% of the nation’s agricultural produce came from black farms. Last year, 48% of the corn crop was produced by black farmers. The cash return for the black-held communal lands was about $170 million.

A minimum wage, increased five times since independence, has brought about a more equitable distribution of wealth. Adult literacy programs have taught thousands of Zimbabweans to read and write. Free medical care is available to the poor. Water development projects and improved roads have raised living standards in rural areas. Thousands of units of low-cost housing have been built throughout the country.

Pride in Racial Harmony

The harmony in race relations is one area in which virtually all Zimbabweans take pride. Although the white rulers of Rhodesia never imposed the harsh restrictions of South Africa’s apartheid system, longtime residents can remember the alleyway windows through which blacks conducted their business with downtown merchants. Years ago, blacks here stepped off the sidewalks to make way for whites. That does not happen anymore, and most whites agree that black Zimbabweans have been generously forgiving in the aftermath of so many years of white resistance.

“It’s an absolute miracle, really,” said David Coltart, a Bulawayo lawyer. “Let me give you an example. I was born here. I went to a white school here. I went into the police and then the Special Branch during the war, and that was the most hated part of the police. Now, here I am. Back here. Working for my former foes. I walk the streets of Bulawayo or Harare and no one calls me a honky, or anything like that.

“We are so lucky. Look at the white people here, their standard of living. We still have a lot. Medical service, private schools if we want them. Our cricket team, which is all-white, by the way, goes to London to play. I live in a house with a swimming pool. If you speak to the Mashonaland farmers, they’ll tell you quite openly they’ve never had it so good.”

Capacity to Forgive

To some whites, the government’s tolerance of Ian Smith on the political scene is a measure of black Zimbabwe’s capacity to forgive. It was Smith who said, as recently as 1976, “I don’t believe in majority rule, black majority rule, ever in Rhodesia, not in a thousand years.”

Last year, to the amazement of just about everyone, Smith spoke before Parliament and invited the assembled lawmakers, including the prime minister, to a party at his house to celebrate the anniversary of his 1965 “unilateral declaration of independence” for Rhodesia, “the greatest day in our country’s history,” a day when there was “true freedom in this country.” (Smith tends to avoid using the name Zimbabwe if he can.) Perhaps a third of the men sitting in the chamber at that moment had been imprisoned during those days that Smith recalled as so glorious, including Mugabe, who was jailed for 10 years on Smith’s orders.

But his audience let him go on, as it usually does, with its usual mixture of indulgence, laughter or, as in Mugabe’s case, irritation. The two men still speak, but no longer confer. Smith, 66, eschews retirement and silence and goes on taking his seat in the chamber, his back stiff, his iron-gray hair refusing to lie flat, his will unbending.

‘People Still Want Me’

“I would like to get out of politics,” he said in an interview, “but how can I? People still want me.”

Certainly Smith got the votes to remain in Parliament, but, some believe, the tally may have reflected a kind of final spasm of protest from that part of the community not fully resigned to the new order.

Some whites now believe that Smith prolonged the agony here uselessly.

“We could have negotiated with (Bishop Abel) Muzorewa back in 1972,” Coltart said. “But we didn’t. We fought for another eight years. We might have saved ourselves a lot of pain, and got a much less radical government, if we had decided to negotiate back then.”

Coltart sometimes thinks about that experience, he said, when he considers friends of his going through the turmoil in South Africa.

“There are a lot worse people for the South African government to have to deal with than Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu,” he said, referring to the imprisoned leader of the African National Congress and the Anglican bishop who has taken a forward position in the anti-apartheid movement.

‘English, Not Afrikaners’

A friend of Coltart’s, Robert Mercer, the Anglican bishop of Bulawayo, nodded and smiled when he heard the comment.

“You have to remember that we’re English here, not Afrikaners,” he said. “There’s a big difference. The Afrikaners were in South Africa 300 years ago, before the United States was a nation. They took on what at the time was the most powerful empire on earth--England--and they fought them to a bloody standstill. They think they are right. They think it is their land. They are not going to give it up. If the president of South Africa tried to negotiate with Nelson Mandela and Bishop Tutu, I guarantee you he would be out of his office, on his neck, in 24 hours.”

Most white Zimbabweans watch the gathering storm to the south of them with a special fascination.

Many of them went to school there, had business connections there, networks of friends and family. Whatever the balance between their public and private expectations for Zimbabwe, few of them expect their neighbors to the south to emerge from their ordeal as lucky as they have been themselves.