Mnangagwa missed one fact: Unlike Mugabe, he has never been genuinely respected within ZANU-PF

Who can deny that ZANU-PF is teetering on the brink?

As factional fighting within the ruling ZANU-PF intensifies - and even threatens to get ugly with the so-called "uprising" slated for 31st March - there is one glaring reality that cannot be ignored.

President Emmerson Mnangagwa has never commanded genuine respect within the party.

He may sit at the helm of both the state and ruling party, but unlike his predecessor, the late Robert Gabriel Mugabe, he has failed to carve out the aura of reverence and fear that shielded Mugabe for decades.

ZANU-PF has never been a stranger to factional fights.

In fact, the party's very formation in 1963 was the result of a bitter split from the original Zimbabwe African People's Union (ZAPU).

A group of predominantly Shona nationalists broke away from Joshua Nkomo's leadership - ironically portraying ZAPU as a "Ndebele party", despite Nkomo being Kalanga - to form ZANU.

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This division along perceived ethnic lines cast a long shadow over the liberation struggle and birthed a legacy of tribalism and distrust.

So divisive was ZANU's emergence that other regional liberation movements deemed it "tribalist, racist, and secessionist."

This inherently fractious foundation has remained etched into the DNA of ZANU-PF, with factionalism becoming not an aberration, but a defining characteristic of the party.

That is not to say ZAPU itself was immune from internal strife.

The mysterious death of vice president Dr. Tichafa Samuel Parirenyatwa in a so-called car-train collision merely eight months into his appointment raised eyebrows.

The intrigue deepened when James Chikerema, suspected to be working in tandem with Robert Mugabe - then ZANU's Secretary General - allegedly attempted to oust Nkomo to facilitate a future Zezuru-dominated mega-party.

Even Jason Ziyaphapha Moyo, another ZAPU stalwart, is believed by many to have been assassinated by rivals within his own party.

Nonetheless, ZANU-PF has always been the master of internal power struggles.

One of its most consequential moments came in 1976, when Robert Mugabe rose to power following the Mgagao Declaration, whereby ZANLA combatants in Tanzania unilaterally ousted then-president Ndabaningi Sithole and replaced him with Mugabe.

What followed was a remarkable consolidation of power.

Through a combination of masterful propaganda, strategic violence, and astute political maneuvering, Mugabe transformed himself into a figure of almost mythical stature.

He was seen as the face of Zimbabwe's independence, a liberator whose word was law.

Under Mugabe, factional fights were never aimed at toppling him.

He was regarded as untouchable, revered by ZANU-PF elites and ordinary supporters alike.

The internal power jostling largely revolved around his potential successor, but not a single ambitious figure ever dared to challenge him directly.

The leadership battles were waged among vice presidents and those vying to position themselves for an eventual takeover - likely posthumously.

The clearest indication of Mnangagwa's own ambitions came in 2004 with the now-infamous "Tsholotsho Declaration."

It was a secret meeting orchestrated by a faction loyal to Mnangagwa that aimed to block the appointment of Joice Mujuru as vice president, and instead elevate Mnangagwa himself following the death of Simon Muzenda.

Mugabe saw through this maneuver and appointed Mujuru anyway.

But Mnangagwa's ambitions were not quelled.

A decade later, he teamed up with Mugabe's wife, Grace, to orchestrate Mujuru's downfall through a series of public smear campaigns and internal purges.

In 2014, Mujuru was ousted, and Mnangagwa finally claimed the vice presidency he had long coveted.

But things quickly soured between him and Grace Mugabe, as the battle lines were redrawn between rival camps - G40, led by Grace, and Lacoste, aligned with Mnangagwa.

Notably, both factions remained loyal to Mugabe.

Their fights were never intended to dethrone him, but to succeed him, particularly as age began to take its toll on the aging leader.

Mugabe's eventual ousting in November 2017 by the military was triggered not by internal party revolt, but rather a response to two immediate threats: the sacking of Mnangagwa as vice president, and the growing belief that Mugabe intended to anoint his wife as successor.

Absent these two factors, it's likely Mugabe would have died in office - Mnangagwa seemingly willing to wait for his time.

That alone speaks volumes about Mugabe's enduring grip on power.

Even in his 90s, he remained a political colossus in ZANU-PF - revered, feared, and untouchable.

Mnangagwa's rule, by contrast, has been marred by open dissent and discontent from within.

Barely eight years after rising to power, he is facing his fiercest internal revolt yet - something unheard of during Mugabe's long tenure.

His attempts to cling to power beyond the constitutionally mandated two five-year terms have sparked furious resistance, not only from civil society and the opposition, but from within his own party.

Prominent voices like Blessed Geza and several disgruntled war veterans have openly attacked him, going as far as calling for his immediate resignation.

The planned March 31st "uprising" is just the latest manifestation of this internal rebellion.

It is difficult to imagine such a public backlash unfolding under Mugabe - let alone calls for him to step down.

Even without term limits before 2013, no one dared challenge his legitimacy to contest election after election.

It was only when it became clear, around 2017, that Mnangagwa was likely to be sidelined in favour of Grace, that some within the party began to openly attack Mugabe.

That kind of unquestioned authority is something Mnangagwa has never enjoyed.

Indeed, Mnangagwa's unpopularity is not just anecdotal - it has been reflected in electoral performance.

He has consistently received fewer votes than the ZANU-PF party itself, pointing to a personal brand that fails to inspire or galvanize support, even among party loyalists.

Despite intensive state media campaigns to portray him as a visionary leader, the reality on the ground tells a different story.

The warmth and loyalty Mugabe commanded, even at the height of Zimbabwe's economic collapse, has always eluded Mnangagwa.

One cannot help but wonder whether he ever anticipated such a hostile reception from his own comrades, so soon into his presidency.

It appears he miscalculated the extent of his acceptance within ZANU-PF.

His rise to power may have been strategic, but it did not earn him the reverence that Mugabe had.

He has struggled to consolidate power in a party that seems to tolerate him more out of necessity than loyalty.

Now, just eight years into his rule, Mnangagwa stands at a dangerous crossroads.

Open revolt is no longer a whisper in dark corridors but a vocal and public confrontation.

Even if he manages to ride out this storm and remains in power, the question remains: will he ever realize his Vision 2030 dream?

Will he be able to lead a party that increasingly appears unwilling to follow him?

There are no easy answers.

But one truth is becoming clearer by the day: Emmerson Mnangagwa will have a far tougher time holding on to power than Robert Mugabe ever did.

And that's largely because, unlike Mugabe, he has never been genuinely respected within ZANU-PF.

© Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to WhatsApp or Call: +263715667700 | +263782283975, or email: mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com, or visit website: https://mbofanatendairuben.news.blog/