By Solo Musaigwa
In homes, markets, and online forums, Zimbabweans are grappling with an uncomfortable question: Was Ian Smith, the architect of Rhodesia’s apartheid system, a better leader than Emmerson Mnangagwa, the head of an independent Zimbabwe? This debate, while provocative, cuts to the core of the nation’s struggle with identity, justice, and the meaning of true liberation.
It’s tempting to dismiss this question as nothing more than disillusionment speaking. After all, how could the leader of a white supremacist regime be favorably compared to one of Zimbabwe’s own? But such debates reveal something deeper: a collective reckoning with the promises of independence that many feel remain unfulfilled.
The Seduction of Stability
At the heart of this conversation lies an old human dilemma: Do we value material comfort above freedom and justice? Under Ian Smith, Rhodesia’s economy was stable. The currency was strong, infrastructure functioned, and bread was always on the shelves. But this stability was built on oppression.
The philosopher John Rawls, in his “Theory of Justice,” reminds us that true justice cannot exist in a society where fundamental rights are denied to some for the benefit of others. Smith’s Rhodesia was a textbook example of this injustice. The land, the wealth, and the opportunities belonged to a small, white minority. Black Zimbabweans, who made up the overwhelming majority, were relegated to poverty, denied political rights, and dispossessed of their land. Stability under such a system was inherently unjust.
Yet today, many Zimbabweans feel abandoned by the liberation government that promised freedom. Mnangagwa, like his predecessor Robert Mugabe, inherited a country full of hope. But decades of corruption, mismanagement, and economic collapse have eroded trust in the ruling ZANU-PF party. For those living through hyperinflation, unemployment, and the collapse of public services, Smith’s Rhodesia begins to look deceptively appealing—not because of what it was, but because of how far Zimbabwe has fallen.
The Trap of Nostalgia
Philosophically, nostalgia is often a dangerous force. Friedrich Nietzsche warned against the “paralyzing weight” of idealizing the past. Nostalgia oversimplifies history, stripping away its complexities and contradictions. When some Zimbabweans look back at Rhodesia, they focus on the stability without acknowledging the human cost. Similarly, nostalgia for the early years of independence ignores the systemic challenges that were always present.
This kind of selective memory can be deeply harmful. It reduces the fight for liberation to a failure and risks legitimising systems of oppression by erasing their brutality. It also obscures the ongoing failures of leadership today, as it shifts attention away from accountability and towards an unproductive yearning for a past that was, in reality, deeply flawed.
Freedom Without Fulfillment
Frantz Fanon, in The Wretched of the Earth, foresaw the dilemmas of post-colonial Africa. He warned that liberation movements, if not rooted in the empowerment of ordinary people, could easily reproduce the inequalities they sought to eliminate. Fanon’s words echo loudly in Zimbabwe, where political independence has not translated into economic freedom for the majority.
Mnangagwa’s government inherited a broken economy, but his administration has failed to deliver meaningful reforms. The land reforms, once heralded as a victory for indigenous empowerment, have largely benefited political elites rather than ordinary citizens. Corruption siphons billions from public coffers, leaving the health, education, and infrastructure sectors in ruins.
For many Zimbabweans, the ideals of liberation have given way to survival. And when survival becomes the primary concern, abstract freedoms—freedom of speech, freedom of assembly—begin to feel hollow. What use is political independence when you cannot feed your family?
The Moral Dilemma of Comparison
But can we truly compare Ian Smith and Emmerson Mnangagwa? Philosophically, the question itself is flawed. Comparing a colonial oppressor to a post-independence leader is like comparing two fundamentally different moral failings.
Smith’s regime was explicitly designed to suppress the majority for the benefit of the minority. It was an unambiguous denial of humanity, rooted in the belief that some lives were worth less than others. Mnangagwa, on the other hand, represents a betrayal of hope—a failure to live up to the ideals of equality and empowerment that underpinned the liberation struggle.
In ethical terms, this is a debate between sins of commission and sins of omission. Smith’s regime actively oppressed; Mnangagwa’s government, through inaction and corruption, has allowed suffering to continue. Both are failures, but they fail in different ways.
A Path Forward
Rather than dwelling on the flawed past, Zimbabweans must focus on the future. Philosopher Amartya Sen’s concept of “development as freedom” offers a useful lens here. True development, Sen argues, is not just about economic growth but about expanding people’s capabilities—their ability to live the lives they value.
Zimbabwe’s path forward must prioritise these freedoms. Economic reforms, rooted in transparency and accountability, are urgently needed. The political system must be overhauled to ensure that it serves the people rather than the elite. And above all, the government must rebuild trust by delivering on the promises of liberation: land, education, health, and opportunity for all.
Reclaiming the Liberation Dream
The debate over whether Smith was better than Mnangagwa is ultimately a symptom of a deeper crisis—a crisis of disillusionment. Zimbabweans feel let down by leaders who have failed to honor the sacrifices of the liberation struggle.
But the dream of independence is not dead. It lives on in the millions of Zimbabweans who work tirelessly every day to build better lives for their families. It lives on in the young people who demand accountability from their leaders and refuse to accept the status quo.
Ian Smith’s Rhodesia and Mnangagwa’s Zimbabwe are both chapters in the country’s story. Neither represents the future Zimbabweans deserve. That future can only be built by confronting the failures of the past—colonial and post-colonial alike—and working towards a vision of justice, prosperity, and dignity for all.
The question is not whether Ian Smith was better than Mnangagwa. The real question is: When will Zimbabwe finally achieve the leadership and governance it has long been promised? For that answer, the nation must look forward, not back.
