By Field Ruwe EdD

We have restored freedom of speech, expression and association, allowing anyone to write or say what they want, where they want & when they want. President Hakainde Hichilema 25.04.2022

The Simple Village Boy Who Became President

“I, Hakainde Hichilema, having been constitutionally elected to the Office of the President of the Republic of Zambia, do swear, that I will faithfully and diligently discharge my duties, and perform the functions in this high office. That I will uphold and maintain the Constitution and the Laws of Zambia, and that I will dedicate my abilities to the service and welfare of the people of Zambia, without fear, favor or ill will; SO HELP ME GOD.”

Zambian presidential oath-takers traditionally intone “So Help Me God,” at the conclusion of the oath of office. Consisting of merely four simple words that invoke the name of God, the phrase imbues the oath with a sense of religious significance. It calls for integrity and moral uprightness from those like Hakainde Hichilema who make campaign promises to people who believe in them. The phrase demands that the oath-taker “tells the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” making honesty and rectitude as a rubric of reign.

In the lead-up to the 2021 presidential elections, Hichilema positioned himself as an honest transformative politician poised for change. He presented himself as a candidate committed to revitalizing democratic governance, upholding the rule of law, and safeguarding human rights.

By leveraging social media to enhance his populist appeal, he distinguished himself as a candidate intent on enacting meaningful reforms to actualize the rights and entitlements of all Zambians.

On his inauguration day, Hichilema, after uttering the words “So, help me God,” gave his speech: “…[UPND] was founded on the promise of a better Zambia,” he decried. “A Zambia which is united and prosperous. A Zambia that guarantees basic needs for all its citizens. A Zambia in which the fundamental human rights and property of its citizens are protected.”

He continued: “Today, we begin realizing this dream. I stand before you today, humbled and filled with gratitude, for your trust in a simple village boy who you have made the seventh president of the Republic of Zambia.” The earth trembled beneath Heroes Stadium as the exuberant crowd erupted in applause.

Empty Pledges

Prior to the inauguration Peter Clottey of the Voice of America asked the simple village boy what he would do about Lungu’s crackdown on press freedom and civil liberties, he replied: “Before this new dawn, citizens ran away from the police because the police tear gassed them, the police discharged live ammunition on them. Not anymore, [now] they can go about their business. We have called for the police to be professional in their conduct and that we will not inject political underhand methods.”

To this, Hichilema wrote in the Washington Post of March 28, 2022: “My government has retuned our democracy to health, shoring up the civil liberties the people demanded: the right of assembly, an end to defamation laws that challenged free speech, and the removing of the death penalty.” True to his word, Hichilema later signed into law Penal Code (Amendment) Bill No. 25, banning the death penalty and the offense of criminal defamation of the president.

A month later, addressing the nation on the eve of African Freedom Day (May 25, 2022), Hichilema affirmed his pledge; “Freedom to me is not merely being free from colonialism. It is freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, freedom from unlawful detention…soon, Zambia shall truly be free.” He added: “No one, and we mean no one, will be sent to jail for criticizing the UPND Alliance Government.”

For a brief period, hope illuminated the path forward. The state transformation initiated in Hichilema’s first hundred days in office appeared to be free from the stifling politics of terror and corruption that characterized the disastrous tenure of his predecessor, Edgar Lungu. It appeared that the citizens of Zambia had chosen a sincere, creative, and energetic youthful leader ready to bring about a significant change in Zambian politics. This feeling cultivated a sense of pride among Zambians and resonated beyond their borders.

What Happened To The Oath-Taker Who Decried “So Help Me God?”

What has gone wrong? How has the wonder village boy suddenly devolved into a figure resembling a wannabe tyrant adeptly navigating the path toward authoritarian governance? What has happened to a leader whose “So Help Me God” utterance went to the very heart of his obligations? Why has he begun to break his promises, splinter the opposition, and detain activists and journalists with such arbitrariness? Why has he stifled freedom of speech by invoking the Cyber Security and Cyber Crimes Act No. 2 of 2021?

Answer: Because the chickens have come to roost. The words on his Facebook of August 19, 2020, have come back to haunt him. At the time candidate Hakainde Hichilema wrote: “The PF administration’s loud silence over the unparalleled electricity loadshedding, underscores what suffering citizens have always believed; that the PF are incompetent, and that they don’t care anymore for the plight of thousands of small-scale businesses, as well as millions of ordinary users of electricity, that are having to endure 15 hours of blackouts in certain instances. Zambians deserve an honest answer over what’s really going on with ZESCO.”

ZESCO under Vickson Ncube is “the straw that has broken the camel’s back.” A president, once seen as a beacon for the New Dawn during his first two years, has eaten his own words. The wonder village boy hailed for his ambitious reform initiatives, has, paradoxically, failed to resolve the loadshedding crisis despite his promises. His failure has allowed the ZESCO kerfuffle to erode his populist image and poses a perilous threat to his presidency. Consequently, the prospects for his second term appear uncertain.

Authoritarianism Is Gathering Steam

Scholars in psychology and sociology who analyze political leadership assert that a broken promise of significant magnitude such as loadshedding can induce panic and lead to erratic behavior in a president. Numerous studies support this assertion, indicating that the failure to fulfill significant promises is a critical factor that contributes to the emergence of authoritarian regimes, tyranny, and dictatorship. Because a president can’t meet his goals, his paranoid defenses become more exaggerated. He turns to more practical tools, such as fear and control of information, says political psychologist Jerrod Post of George Washington University.

This should perhaps explain Hichilema’s disastrous and dangerous press conference of June 25, 2024, during which he threatened to use the military should the police fail to arrest the so-called dissidents. It should further explain the arbitrary arrests, and detentions of opposition leaders, activists, and journalists. It should also explain the invocation of the Cyber Security and Cyber Crimes Act No. 2 of 2021; a move that violates the “So Help Me God” oath of the office that is a bulwark of the rule of law.

Arbitrariness is prevalent in numerous manifestations of despotism, absolutism, authoritarianism and totalitarianism, all which align with the utterances and practices being upheld by Hichilema and his UPND party. Exposed as a flip-flopper, Hichilema, with severe superego deficiency, is employing a fundamental weapon picked from the “manual of repression” utilized by contemporary tyrants to feed on fear and intimidation.

Research indicates that employing fear as subjugation is a manufactured external threat designed to keep society off balance and foster collective paranoia. This tactic is used by dictators to spread fear and divert attention from major teething issues like loadshedding. In this context, Hakainde Hichilema, whose populist appeal has become bigger than himself, is pairing oppressive rule with authoritarian rule. The emergence of such a scenario signals the potential onset of dictatorship. If this is indeed the case, it is imperative that Generation Z, the bearers of the future, take action to prevent it.

Please Note: I am not a social media influencer but a scholar practitioner-cum-pracademic. A pracademic is a person who has both academic and practical identities and experiences in their field. My Doctor of Education in Organizational Leadership from Northeastern University, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S., qualifies me as such. As a professional degree is awarded in medicine and law, so is one awarded in education. In other words, like them, I am also just doing my job. So Help Me God. The rights to this article belong to ZDI (Zambia Development Institute), a US-based think tank.

The saga surrounding Archbishop Alick Banda’s Toyota Hilux and the Drug Enforcement Commission (DEC) Anti-Money Laundering Investigative Unit transcends mere comedy; it serves as a strong lesson for religious leaders. Since the 1990s, the insidious practice of brown envelopes and back-door gifts has taken on an almost sacred quality—though this reverence is only extended when these gifts come with adulation for the Supreme Leader. Yet, when one dares to resist this allure of idolatry, when one refuses to bow to Baal and his false prophets, they become prey—hunted like a helpless impala.

Archbishop Banda distinguishes himself as one of the bravest clerics willing to confront the status quo. Amidst the overwhelming economic hardships, the Arch. Bishop has repeatedly exposed the lies of President Hakainde Hichilema (HH), while many of his fellow bishops merely parrot “Amen” in exchange for brown envelopes. For better or for worse, President HH has finally ensnared him, seeking to humiliate and silence him over the confiscation of the Hilux—a vehicle now sullied by accusations of corruption. Yet one must ask: How many times has HH himself paraded through the churches with his own brown envelopes? These so-called gifts are often not even drawn from his personal finances. Much like his predecessors, they are drawn from the public coffers.

Let me be clear: I do not worship politicians, nor will I ever. I hold in high regard individuals of principle and integrity—attributes that HH clearly lacks. If the DEC is indeed earnest in its pursuit of corruption, should it not be HH himself who comes under scrutiny? His business dealings are so sordid that they could make even the foulest skunk seem like high-end perfume! The undeniable reality is that he cannot utter a single truth. He is shackled to lies, and it is hard to ignore the possibility that this ongoing case is a desperate maneuver to shield himself from his most vocal critic. Sadly, the same DEC will haunt him and his cronies as soon as they leave political office.

Politicians are not gods to be venerated, nor should they be treated as if they are above reproach. Accountability to the public is paramount. This necessitates that religious leaders categorically refuse to accept gifts in any form from political figures. It doesn’t matter if these gifts are lavish or modest—politicians’ wealth is frequently gleaned from the veins of the downtrodden, often amounting to blood money. The heart-wrenching plight of a dying child or a mother deprived of vital medicine in a hospital is precisely what those gifts symbolize. How can one rest easy knowing they have accepted a vehicle or gift stained with such suffering?

It is both unethical and sinful for the Church to share in the exploitation of the impoverished. All well-meaning religious leaders should learn something from this episode—political gifts can lead to personal ruin if you dare to champion the cause of the vulnerable. As the saying goes, “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, and unto God what is God’s.”

Jesus did not speak these words lightly; He understood the perils of compromising the gospel for material advantage. Without a doubt, the Archbishop could have prospered without that vehicle—his flock would have gladly provided him with a suitable alternative. However, his lapse in judgment has put the Roman Catholic Church and his prophetic integrity in a precarious position. Again, religious leaders ought to take this lesson to heart. Politicians are perpetually in search of ways to financially procure your voice, and when they recognize they cannot, you become an adversary. I disagree with the Supreme Liar on many issues, but the sobering truth is that unless the vehicle was gifted from personal funds, it belongs to the people of Zambia.

Importantly, religious leaders must not be seduced by material wealth; rather, they must remain steadfast in their commitment to uphold truth, justice, and integrity. Although the Archbishop may have stumbled, we must learn from this misstep and resolve never to compromise our values for the allure of political patronage. Religious leaders must consistently serve as advocates for the marginalized and oppressed, refusing to capitulate to the pressures exerted by those in power. We must remember our sacred duty to serve the people and uphold the tenets of righteousness, even in trying times.

By Kapya Kaoma