THE government has tried very hard, but in vain, to convince a sceptical world that its campaign of harassment against the MDC leader, Morgan Tsvangirai, has little to do with the prospect that he could beat President Mugabe in the presidential election.
In a radio interview on Monday, after Tsvangirai had been formally charged with high treason, the Minister of Home Affairs, John Nkomo, gave the impression that there was nothing at all bizarre about the government's latest attempt to persecute the MDC leader.
But to many Zimbabweans, the depths to which the government have now sunk can longer be considered ordinary. Charging the man with high treason, which carries the death penalty, ought to be absolutely the limit of their aberration.
But to then let him free after hours of interrogation and promising to follow up the matter by way of summons - the police euphemism for we're-not-sure-we-can-make-this-stick - smacks of psychological terror tactics.
The world is expected to believe that, on the basis of a video film made by a man who claims to have been a friend of President Mugabe "for a few years", the police will to build a cast-iron case of treason against Tsvangirai.
The key witness will be this man, the 51-year-old Ari Ben-Menashe, whose company, Dickens and Madison, made the clearly doctored video film on which this entire case will be built like a house of cards.
As comic opera, it would probably win some prizes, but as a serious attempt to punish a citizen who cold-bloodedly planned to assassinate his then 77-year-old head of state, dogged by ill-health for years, it would be laughed out of any court, even in Zimbabwe.
Ben-Menashe, the key witness, is a man with such a fascinating past of dubious exploits he would fit in snugly into the essence of the comic opera.
Tsvangirai would be the martyr, a man persecuted for doing no more than his duty as a loyal citizen of his country -trying to give the people a chance to choose an alternative leader.
The more serious side of this whole caper is that it demonstrates Zanu PF's desperation.
One suspects that even the police detectives instructed to bring this case to its logical conclusion are a bit bemused: on such rickety evidence, how do they build a case respectable enough to take to the Attorney General?
Much more relevant is the role of Ben-Menashe in the plot to entrap
Tsvangirai - for that is what happened as soon as the MDC unknowingly
"knocked on the wrong door" in their genuine search for a public relations company to polish up their image in the Americas.
By all accounts, Ben-Menashe had been working for the Mugabe government for some years before this bonanza of a new client fell into his company's lap.
The rest, for a man apparently schooled thoroughly in the cloak-and-dagger business of bluff and double bluff, was almost routine.
They set up Tsvangirai.
Ben-Menashe came to Harare to bolster the government's shaky case against Tsvangirai.
He did not portray himself as a witness determined to tell the truth and nothing but the truth.
He virtually made himself part of the prosecution team, leaving no room whatsoever for any doubt as to the MDC leader's guilt.
In fact, in many respects, Ben-Menashe spoke as if he himself was the plaintiff.
As to how the case will eventually pan out, it would be wise to leave that to the police.
But a word of warning to the government: they could tie themselves into so many knots in this wild attempt to prevent Tsvangirai from challenging Mugabe on 9-10 March.
This persecution could convince the fence-sitters which way to vote.
The underdog in this election is Tsvangirai and he is already a martyr. Government must be careful they don't provide with the missing element in his CV imprisonment.
Comments Post a comment