Zambia: State of Siege

At parties on the Lusaka diplomatic circuit, Zambian President Kenneth Kaunda often pointed to Vice President Simon Kapwepwe, his close friend since boyhood, and said fondly: “Look, there goes my revolutionary!” It was no casual sobriquet. A bearded, conspiratorial-looking firebrand who wears black and purple togas and carries an outsized walking stick, Kapwepwe was a militant nationalist leader as one of Kaunda’s colleagues in the fight for independence from Britain. In a recent about-face, he became Kaunda’s chief rival for political power. Last week Kapwepwe more than lived up to Kaunda’s billing by plunging Zambia into what may well be its most serious political crisis to date.

Freedom Shirts. A leftist-oriented demagogue, Kapwepwe heads Zambia’s powerful grouping of Bemba tribes, which account for a fourth of the country’s 4,000,000 population and a good part of its bitter tribal rivalry. Two years ago, when he was elected vice president of the country’s ruling United National Independence Party (U.N.I.P.), Kapwepwe automatically took over Zambia’s vice-presidency. During a hastily called press conference last week, he abruptly resigned. In a speech designed to upstage Kaunda, who was scheduled to deliver a nationwide address that afternoon, Kapwepwe complained that he was the victim of “mudslinging in the press,” that government ministers were rude and abusive, and that his fellow Bembas were being discriminated against. Kapwepwe obviously hoped that his well-publicized resignation would pave the way for an eventual return to power—perhaps to Kaunda’s office—by popular acclaim. The 47-year-old tribal leader is admired by many thousands of Zambians, many of whom still wear the collarless Nehru-style “freedom shirts” that Kapwepwe wore as a “general” in the revolution.

Nonetheless, his cynical gambit failed.

Some five hours after Kapwepwe’s resignation, Kaunda went on radio to declare a state of siege on the grounds that rising tribal tension was “splitting the nation.” Moving to take over personal control of the United Party, Kaunda suspended its constitution, abolished its faction-ridden Central Committee, and sacked all of its officers—including No. 2 Man Simon Kapwepwe. “A change is absolutely necessary if we are to survive,” said Kaunda.

Instead of denouncing Kapwepwe for worsening the situation with his demagogic statements, however, Kaunda next day blandly urged him, in the interests of national unity, to stay on as Vice Presidentof the country—though not of the party. Kapwepwe could scarcely refuse and risk being cast as an unpatriotic villain. At a press conference in the Vice President’s villa, he withdrew his resignation in what he described as a “spirit of selflessness.”

Economic Hopes. Kaunda’s own grand design for the land that was once a British protectorate of Northern Rhodesia prescribes one-party rule as the answer to governing 72 quarrelsome tribes. But his United Party itself has proved to be a microcosm of the feuds that are rending the nation at large. Kaunda hopes that rapid economic development, spurred by the recent nationalization of the copper mines and takeovers in other industries (the banks are next), will produce enough prosperity to smother tribal differences. But for the foreseeable future, the outlook is for continued contentiousness—and even violence. Kaunda’s personal jet plane recently figured in a bomb scare. Last week, as it was taking off from Lusaka on a routine training flight without Kaunda, the plane crashed and burned, killing three people. An investigation is underway.