Valuable lessons to be learnt from colonial past

ONCE upon a time there was a king who ruled Matebeleland, now part of a unified Zimbabwe.

Lobengula, the son of the great Mzilikazi, had a penchant for the finer things in life.

He was not a man known for statesmanship but his army was revered for its ruthlessness, especially towards his neighbours.

In his book, Diamonds, Gold and War: The Making of South Africa, Martin Meredith pieces together the story of the fall of Lobengula.

What interested me most was the king’s insatiable appetite for gifts from strangers. These ranged from cash in the form of pounds, gold, guns – which he hardly used – and champagne.

But he was known for giving little in return. When he did undertake to give something big, such as mining concessions, which he knew was wrong, he was quick to renege. Yet, he could not resist gifts from those who sought friendship with him for their self interest.

What was striking was his ability to dodge responsibility for his decisions.

It so happened that towards the end of the 19th century, the rapacious entrepreneur Cecil John Rhodes, through his merchants and mercenaries, began to knock at the door asking to prospect for gold in Lobengula’s territory.

Rhodes bought arms for Lobengula in an illegal arms deal (there is a history to arms dealing!) and provided him with cash. These were no doubt bribes to secure mining rights.

Once rumours spread that Lobengula had signed the deal at a time when his forces had become restless about missionaries in Bulawayo, Lobengula’s advisers had to find sacrificial lambs for his own careless mistakes.

Thus all the anger was directed at Lotse Hlabangana, Lobengula’s principal adviser, who was blamed for the mining concession deal.

Hlabangana was hauled by angry crowds before a council of 300 of Lobengula’s indunas. He was accused of treachery and deception and condemned to death.

Frank Thompson, Rhodes’s agent, recalled the incident: “I saw the poor old fellow stand erect... He was taken outside the kraal, and on kneeling down he said: ‘Do as you think fit with me. I am the king’s chattel’.” Soon thereafter, one blow from the executioner’s stick sufficed.

Thompson recalled that Hlabangana’s sin was that he had advised the king to enter into the arms deal and give away mining rights.

“But in reality,” wrote Thompson, “he had been made the scapegoat to protect the king from the rising tide of suspicion among the that their king had traded away their rights in their land.”

Lobengula’s leadership style helped him ward off colonial invasion, but only up to a certain point.

All that Rhodes had been looking for was a tinge of justification to invade Bulawayo. Lobengula’s love of the finer things compromised him and his country.

Matebeleland became Rhodesia and Rhodes lies buried in the place of his choice there.

But why do I dust off my insignificant bookshelf for such an insignificant story that lies buried in the history of African colonial conquest?

Simple: Post-1994 arms deal, Guptagate and the corruption of Nkandla.

There are common denominators in all these scandals, including Lobengula’s leadership style.

First, gifts in the form of cash and other favours were traded. In the modern world gold is taxpayers’ money earned through hard work and paid through the revenue collector in good faith.

Second, there is a corruptible leader responsible for the authority of the country. The authority must, in the leader’s view, be tradeable for cash or any other benefit that can massage the ego of the leader.

Third, the character of the leader must be such that his self-preservation is more important than matters of national importance, including national sovereignty.

Matters of national interest are essentially an irritation to the leader.

Fourth, there must be junior officials who are ready to be sacrificed for the survival of the leader. “I am the president’s chattel”, is what seems to be the song for civil servants who risk their reputations to protect their principal.

But to what end?

Well, the story of Lobengula ends tragically. By subordinating the interest of the country to that of the individual leader, the leader ensures that his fall is necessarily the fall of his country too.

Rhodes decided to enforce his deal with a reneging Lobengula through war. Lobengula ’s forces proved too weak to defend him and his territory.

While on the run, he tried to pay the invaders with his loot in the form of gold that he had accumulated over the years to stop the onslaught against him and to make peace.

It didn’t work.

Seeing that his reign had come to an end, he ordered the burning of his headquarters in Bulawayo before he took poison.

Many who fought in the anti-apartheid struggle probably understand that the apartheid system was a logical progression of the ruthless elements of the colonial system.

And many of those who fought apartheid are now running our country.

But they seem to have forgotten the sad story of Lobengula.

If only we could learn from our sad past...

Mpumelelo Mkhabela is the editor of Sowetan