By Gabriel Manyati
In this piece I will try to explain in the most basic English why the calls we frequently see in Zimbabwean social media spaces for the military to intervene again and fix the problems in our politics, and subsequently our country, are misguided, objectionable and dangerous.
In November 2017, the streets of Harare looked like a giant carnival. Millions of Zimbabweans danced alongside military vehicles, hugged soldiers, and waved the national flag. After 37 years of rule by Robert Mugabe, change had arrived.
The military intervention was wrapped in the beautiful language of patriotism. It was called a “restore legacy” operation, a heroic move to save the nation from a collapsing economy and political madness. For a brief moment, ordinary citizens saw the army as a saviour.
But history is a stubborn teacher. What felt like a new dawn was actually the opening of a dangerous door. When the music stopped and the confetti was swept away, a sobering reality remained.
By using tanks to decide who should lead the country, Zimbabwe normalised a terrifying idea, that the men with the guns are the ultimate judges of our politics.
The tragedy of 2017 was not about whether Robert Mugabe deserved to go. Almost everyone agreed his time was up. The tragedy was how he left. When a military institution decides who rules, democracy dies a quiet death.
The Simple Logic of Rules
To understand why military rule is dangerous, we do not need complex university textbooks. We only need common sense. Think of a school where the security guards are hired to keep thieves out. One afternoon, the guards decide they do not like how the headmaster is running the school. They march into his office, lock him out, and appoint a new headmaster.
Even if the old headmaster was terrible, the guards have broken the rules. Who will protect the school if the guards are busy running the classrooms?
Or consider a football match. The referee is there to enforce the rules, not to score goals. If the referee suddenly kicks the ball into the net and declares himself the winner, the game becomes a farce.
A nation works the same way. Different institutions have different jobs. The army is built for defense. Soldiers are trained to use maximum force to protect the country from external enemies and to defend the constitution. They are not trained to manage inflation, build hospitals, or negotiate laws.
When the person responsible for protecting the home suddenly decides to dictate what everyone eats, wears, and thinks, the home ceases to be a safe space. It becomes a prison.
The Temptation of the Shortcut
Zimbabweans are exhausted. Decades of corruption, economic decline, and elite political battles have left families struggling to buy bread. Elections often feel like empty rituals that change nothing.
In this climate of deep frustration, it is easy to look at the army and think, “Please, just step in and fix this.” We see these arguments every day on social media platforms like X and Facebook. Young Zimbabweans, desperate for change, openly pray for another coup to solve succession disputes or economic misery.
This is a dangerous illusion.
Looking to the army for political solutions is like using a sledgehammer to fix a leaking water pipe. You might stop the leak, but you will destroy the entire house in the process. When citizens look to the military as a shortcut, they forget that soldiers do not answer to voters. You cannot vote a general out of office if he fails to deliver.
Frustration with politicians is completely justified, but it can never justify inviting the military into government. Replacing a political crisis with a military intervention always creates a bigger, more permanent crisis.
The Scorched Earth of African Coups
We do not have to guess what happens when the military takes over; we can look at our neighbours. Sudan is currently tearing itself apart in a brutal civil war. Why? Because for decades, the military was allowed to dominate politics. When generals became politicians, they eventually turned their guns on each other, leaving ordinary citizens to pay the ultimate price in blood and displacement.
In West Africa, Mali and Burkina Faso have experienced repeated military takeovers recently. Each time, young people celebrated in the streets, hoping the soldiers would magically defeat terrorists and fix the economy. Today, those same citizens are discovering that military rule has failed to bring peace. Instead, security has worsened, poverty has deepened, and anyone who speaks out against the government is silenced.
Nigeria spent decades under various military rulers after gaining independence. Instead of discipline and progress, those military regimes brought massive corruption and institutional decay. As the late United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan wisely noted: ”A military government is, by definition, an aberration. It cannot provide the stability and predictability that modern societies require to prosper.”
Global Lessons from Myanmar and Pakistan
This is not just an African problem; it is a human problem. In Asia, Myanmar is living through a nightmare. In 2021, the military staged a coup, claiming they were saving the nation from a corrupt election. Today, the country is in a state of total collapse, with the economy ruined and thousands of young activists jailed or killed.
Pakistan has spent its entire history trapped in an exhausting cycle. Every few years, the army intervenes to “correct” the mistakes of politicians. The result is a nation that can never build stable institutions, where no elected prime minister has ever finished a full five-year term.
Historically, across Latin America, military juntas promised order and stability but delivered torture, disappeared citizens, and economic ruin. The political scientist Samuel P. Huntington explained this clearly in his writings on civil-military relations, emphasising that the military is strongest and most respected when it remains professional and subordinate to civilian authority. When the army enters politics, it loses its professionalism and becomes just another corrupt faction fighting for wealth and power.
Building Institutions, Not Strongmen
The lesson from across the globe is clear: coups create a vicious cycle. Once an army removes one leader, the next leader lives in constant fear of the army. Future coups become easier because the law has been broken once already.
Zimbabwe’s future will never be secured by tanks in the streets or by generals pretending to be saviours. Real progress is slow, painful, and requires active citizenship. We must demand accountability, build stronger courts, protect independent journalism, and insist on free and fair elections.
We must focus on building strong institutions rather than chasing charismatic strongmen, whether they wear suits or military uniforms. True patriotism means defending the constitution, even when it is difficult, because the moment we let the guns rule our politics, we surrender our freedom forever.
