LET me begin by explaining away my two-month sabbatical from writing. It was not a matter of writer’s block, neither was it a case of taking you, my dear readers, for granted.

I would never do that — so brazenly. Indeed, the pressures of adulting and the need to justify my existence every day had me pinned down for a bit.

But I am back. So, stop whining and stay with me while I tackle an important and complex matter this week. Land!

Last week, the government announced some details of a bold and far-reaching land tenure policy.

It has always been clear to discerning minds that the land question is still open regarding the legitimacy of the programme and the multi-faceted socio-economic and political questions. And I dare say that the current policy proposition will not likely put the matter to rest.

I must begin by making a disclaimer. I am not competent in economics; hence, my analysis will not purport to explore the policy's economic implications. But as you already know, I am a self-appointed harbinger of uncomfortable thoughts and opinions. Hence, I will stick to my comfort zone and explore this matter from a political pedestal.

I am interested in the political logic of the policy in terms of its timing and the intended but unstated motives and interests. Let us begin by circling back to the land reform programme post-2000.

Fast track land reform programme

The fast track land reform programme of 2000 is characterised as one of the world's most far-reaching wealth redistribution exercises. It transferred about 10 million hectares of land from 4 500 white farmers to 220 000 households within just a few years.

It fundamentally upended the agrarian structure, with its effects still felt today. What was supposed to be a ‘fast-track programme’ is still unfinished business a quarter of a century later!

Of course, most of the programme's beneficiaries were ruling elites, some of whom acquired outsized multiple farms. Also, war veterans and other families mostly linked to the ruling party were the majority beneficiaries. These held tenure through 99-year leases, offer letters, and permits for agricultural land.

Bankable, registrable,  tenure

The major weakness of the land reform programme tenure system was that it was not bankable, registrable, or transferable. One could not access a bank loan using the farm as collateral; neither could they register the farm as their own property.

Upon death or the expiry of the 99-year lease, the farm could not be transferred to the surviving spouse or children, nor could it be sold.

The result was that farmers struggled to access financing and did not have security of tenure to allow them to invest heavily in the farm.

While scant on detail for now, the proposed new land tenure system places a moratorium on 99-year leases, offer letters, and permits for agricultural land.

Those holding land under this arrangement will acquire a more secure tenure document that is bankable, registrable, and transferable.

Ostensibly, this will ‘unlock value’ by enabling access to finance and other potential benefits arising from such.

This is sold as a progressive reform to modernise agriculture and empower farmers. All this is well and fine.

The devil is in the details

There is nothing wrong with a secure land-holding tenure system that is bankable, registrable, and transferable. It is an economic fundamental to unlocking value and promoting productivity in the agricultural sector. It is long overdue.

The problem arises from the injustice, lack of transparency, and legitimacy of transferring a vast national resource into the hands of individuals without paying for it. The political motives and interests likely influencing this move are suspect.

However, to explore the efficacy of the policy proposition, we will wait for the full policy document and the legal instruments operationalising it. The devil is in the details.

Bakalanga say, ‘tooti imhala tabona mabala’ (we will know whether it is an impala after seeing its colours).

While most pundits have focused on the policy's efficacy and economic implications, it is more interesting to examine its political logic.

Personal interest

It is instructive to understand that the political elites who acquired land in the 2000s are now approaching their twilight, contending against the eventualities of nature and resigning to the way of the flesh.

It is not petty of them to want to put their affairs in order, and one of those important affairs is securing the land they acquired for posterity.

Further, while they initially benefited from acquiring productive farms, most soon ran them down.

Eventually, they started renting them out, ironically even to the former farm owners.

The financial benefits from these farms have become marginal if any at all.

Under the proposed system, they are able to address the two points above. Since the tenure system will be bankable, registrable, and transferable, their families can inherit the land.

Further, they can also benefit financially, assuming the ‘transferable’ aspect of the tenure system enables them to sell the land.

The proverbial mana from heaven

Under normal land acquisition circumstances, this should be the case. However, during the fast track land reform programme, these individuals acquired land freely with no personal financial cost.

The proposed model effectively hands over near-permanent control of a collective national resource to individuals who can sell it and pocket the proceeds without having had to pay for it themselves in the first place.

This undermines the concept of equitable redistribution, further marginalising ordinary Zimbabweans.

The original goal of land reform — redistributing land to empower ordinary citizens —  stands in stark contrast to the likely outcomes of this new system.

Without proper checks and balances, the new land tenure system could become a mechanism for the entrenchment of social and economic inequality.

In a context where land barons and cartels are growing in influence daily, there is fear that this will be yet another avenue for primitive accumulation and consolidation of oligarchs around state power.

A land heist

Far from empowering the majority of Zimbabweans, this policy will deepen the divide between the land-owning elite and the landless majority.

It will entrench a system where access to the country’s most valuable resource is determined by political connections rather than need, merit, or productivity.

Once again, the ordinary citizen, who remains landless or trapped in unproductive communal areas, will watch as political insiders consolidate their land holdings, unduly profiting from the land reform programme — for the third time!

First, they benefitted from the fast track land reform programme, then the farm mechanisation scheme, and now the ‘bankable, registrable, and transferable’ tenure system.

No basis or justification exists for such an unfair policy proposition, considering that land is a finite resource.

What looks like a mere administrative reform is actually a final stamp on a vast transfer of wealth, solidifying the elite's control over the country's most fertile land while leaving the majority of Zimbabweans with nothing.

Framed as a modern, secure form of tenure, in reality, it is a land heist of the century!

The 2030 campaign

Beyond the personal interests of the elites who own land, this proposed policy must also be viewed from the prism of the 2030 campaign.

Some factions of Zanu PF have been gathering steam in their campaign to amend the constitution to extend presidential terms, or even abolish them.

This will enable President Emmerson Mnangagwa to remain in power after his term expires in 2028.

However, it has faced strong internal headwinds that are pushing back.

The war veterans, an important power broker within the party and always aligned with the military, have recently read the Riot Act to those pushing the 2030 agenda.

Some sections of the party’s women and youth Leagues are also reportedly pushing back.

A political gambit

When incumbents seek to retain power, they often co-opt and integrate the elites by distributing rents to buy allegiance. Mugabe used the same tactic in 2000 through the land reform programme to hold onto power.

He again used the same tactic through the indigenisation programme after 2008. It makes political sense that President Mnangagwa would use the same tried-and-tested strategy this time around.

Securing land tenure for the beneficiaries of the land reform programme will no doubt secure the 2030 political agenda.

It is very telling that those promised priority consideration in the new tenure system are ‘war vets, women, and youth’. All the critical power structures of the party, including the military, whose top brass is composed of war vets, will be appeased, dissipating any dissent in the process and securing their allegiance.

It is the opening gambit in the successionist political gamesmanship.

The sober view

It is important to understand that land is political first, before it is economic. Land ownership is deeply intertwined with political power. It represents not only a resource for economic activity but also a symbol of power, identity, and control over society.

That is why the land reform programme in Zimbabwe, dubbed the ‘3rd Chimurenga,’ was framed as a political act to redress the vestiges of colonialism.

Dumani is an independent political analyst. He writes in his personal capacity.  — X: @NtandoDumani.