International Herald Tribune
By David Coltart
Published: July 13, 2007
BULAWAYO, Zimbabwe:
As I marched in protest with a handful of fellow Zimbabwean lawyers in Bulawayo recently, I looked into the eyes of the riot police and believed that I saw the beginning of cracks in the regime.
The Law Society of Zimbabwe called a strike in protest against recent attacks on and arrests of members of the legal profession, so we gathered here at the High Court on June 27th to march to the offices of the governor of Bulawayo to present a petition.
The riot police stood on the steps of the High Court and told us that the march was illegal and that we had to move away. Approximately 15 of us then started a three-block march to the governor’s office – followed by a stately procession of police vehicles that included members of the “Law and Order” political section.
As we – the 15 dangerous lawyers – arrived at the governor’s office, the riot police spread out, with shields raised and batons drawn. We were ordered to stop, told that our march was illegal and that we should disperse immediately or be dispersed by force.
We explained that we wanted to deliver a petition protesting against the persecution of our colleagues in Harare. The commanding officer was not interested. He threatened us again, called for reinforcements and ordered us to disperse. Further detachments of riot police officers and other policemen had arrived, bringing the strength of their forces to around 40. We asked the commanding officer to take our petition to the governor, but he refused.
So we left our letter at his feet and turned to march back to the High Court. Once more, we were ordered to disperse, and once more we ignored the order. Shortly after that, another truck-load of about 20 policemen arrived, armed with shotguns and FN military rifles. Our group walked a block, followed by this truck and the other riot policemen. Then we were stopped again and told to disperse under threat of force.
Again we ignored the order and walked a further block, almost as far as the High Court building. At this juncture we noticed further reinforcements arriving and, having decided that we had made our point, we dispersed to our offices.Let me remind readers that our march could not be filmed by any television station because there are no independent TV stations in Zimbabwe. Nor was it covered by any independent journalists because there are no independent daily newspapers left and foreign reporters are severely constrained.
Our march was conducted with the knowledge that, over the last seven years, not a single police officer has been prosecuted for any of their assaults against law-abiding Zimbabweans exercising their constitutional right to demonstrate peaceably.
We knew that the police officers who recently attacked the Law Society’s president, Beatrice Mtetwa, have not been arrested or prosecuted, nor will they be. We all knew that the police know that they have absolute license to bash whomever they like as hard as they like.
As President Robert Mugabe said in September after the arrests of labor union activists: “Some are crying that they were beaten. Yes, you will be thoroughly beaten. When the police say move, you move. If you don’t move, you invite the police to use force.”
Nearly all the lawyers who took part in the march have represented many exceptionally brave political and civic activists who have been demonstrating for years and who have been brutally assaulted and tortured by the police. To that extent the actions of this band of lawyers is not remarkable. But it still took great courage to go outside the relative security of their offices show solidarity with others who have stood for their rights and the rights of all the people of Zimbabwe.
My abiding memory of the events is the expressions on the faces of the riot police. Although they were brandishing batons and could have harmed us, when I looked into their eyes I saw no enthusiasm for what they had been ordered to do. In fact, if I sensed any emotion it was pity. The officer in charge was hesitant and almost apologetic. Most of his men were in tattered uniforms and many looked malnourished. When we avoided a violent confrontation they looked relieved and when they followed us they were not menacing.
On the other hand, the police reinforcements were threatening, but they were probably core loyalists. It struck me that we now may be up against a paper tiger, that the regime is only protected by a thin veneer of die-hard loyalists, and that the vast majority of the police officers understand that change is coming.
I remembered Arthur Hugh Clough’s “Say not the struggle naught availeth:”
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main.”
Despite all the fear and depression in Zimbabwe today, I sense that the tide of popular opinion is silently flooding in and that this dreadful regime will find itself overwhelmed from within.