Zimbabwean politics has long been understood through a crude but powerful binary: the gun versus the vote, coercion versus consent. For decades, the decisive question in moments of crisis was whether power would be asserted through military force or popular mandate. Yet the unfolding succession contest within Zanu PF points to a more sobering and contemporary truth. In today’s Zimbabwe, money — not the gun — has become the ultimate arbiter of political outcomes.
President Emmerson Mnangagwa and the faction aligned to him appear convinced they have decisively outmanoeuvred Vice-President Constantino Chiwenga. Crucially, this was not achieved through dramatic purges or overt shows of force, but through a quieter, more effective weapon: control of resources. As one senior Zanu PF official close to Mnangagwa reportedly put it with cutting bluntness, Chiwenga is now “holding a gun without a bullet.”
The phrase is provocative, even dismissive, but it captures a profound shift in Zimbabwe’s political economy. Power is no longer seized primarily through tanks on the streets or uniformed men on television. Instead, it is accumulated, consolidated and defended through patronage networks, financial muscle, institutional capture and strategic patience.
From Mnangagwa’s vantage point, 2025 has been a politically successful year. Despite sustained pressure from Chiwenga-aligned factions — including loud public agitation fronted by figures such as war veterans’ leader Blessed Geza — the President has remained firmly in control. His response to the challenge was not impulsive. It was deliberate and methodical.
Rather than confronting Chiwenga directly, Mnangagwa allowed loyalists — notably party spokesperson Chris Mutsvangwa and a cluster of senior ministers — to fight the political battles in the open. Meanwhile, he worked quietly behind the scenes, consolidating authority over the institutions and resources that matter most. This division of labour reflected a calculated strategy: absorb the noise, allow opponents to overplay their hand, and steadily tighten grip over the system itself.
All Threat, No Firepower: Chiwenga Holding a Gun Without Bullets
The contrast between the two camps, according to party insiders, could not be sharper. On one side sits a well-funded, well-organised faction backed by cash-rich businessmen, tenderpreneurs and political cronies whose fortunes are directly tied to the continuity of the current order. On the other is a restless and angry grouping animated by entitlement, nostalgia and the belief that historical ties to the military still guarantee political dominance.
It is here that Chiwenga’s camp appears to have fundamentally misread the moment. Their rhetoric leans heavily on liberation mythology and military pedigree, assuming that the gun still commands automatic obedience. But Zimbabwe has changed. The state has been deliberately restructured since 2017. The military has been recalibrated, fragmented and politically neutralised, while resources have been channelled to ensure no single faction can easily mobilise coercive force.
In this environment, betting on force is not a demonstration of strength; it is an admission of strategic bankruptcy. The gun, without access to money, logistics and institutional backing, is reduced to a symbol — intimidating perhaps, but ultimately ineffective.
Money, by contrast, has proven transformative. It has lubricated alliances, silenced potential dissenters, co-opted key institutions and hollowed out opposition politics. The collapse of organised opposition, particularly the Citizens Coalition for Change, cannot be separated from this reality. Patronage, inducements and economic desperation have combined with repression to fragment resistance and drain it of coherence and moral authority.
In this sense, Mnangagwa’s internal triumph mirrors his external advantage: there is no credible countervailing force, either within Zanu PF or beyond it. The regional and international environment has further tilted the balance in his favour. Unlike Robert Mugabe in his final years, Mnangagwa is not diplomatically isolated. He faces no serious external pressure, and his administration has become adept at managing international expectations while entrenching power at home.
The lesson from this succession battle is uncomfortable but clear. Those who believe Zimbabwean power can still be seized through the barrel of a gun are fighting yesterday’s war. In the current order, guns without money are empty threats. They may frighten, but they do not endure.
Chiwenga’s failure, if this analysis holds, was not a lack of ambition or anger, but a failure to understand how power now functions. Instead of mobilising resources, building broad alliances and patiently organising, his camp relied on noise, threats and the illusion of military leverage. In politics, as in war, emotion is not a strategy.
Zimbabwe’s deeper tragedy is that this victory of money over the gun does not equate to a victory for democracy, accountability or the public good. It merely signals a shift in the mechanics of domination. Patronage has replaced overt coercion; capture has replaced confrontation. The gun has not vanished — it has simply been subordinated to cash.
Mnangagwa’s triumph, then, tells us less about individual brilliance than about the system he now commands: a system where politics is decided not by ideas or legitimacy, but by who controls the financial flows that keep the machinery of power running.
Source- byo24
