In January 2019, on the second day of the nationwide stayaway organised by the Zimbabwe Congress of Trade Unions — sparked in part by a staggering 150% hike in fuel prices — the government made a move that would shake the foundations of Zimbabwe's digital freedoms: a total shutdown of internet services across the country.
For ten long days, Zimbabweans were cut off from the digital world, with only the High Court’s ruling declaring the shutdown illegal eventually bringing services back online.
Yet, this was far from Zimbabwe's first encounter with such state-enforced blackouts. Just three years earlier, during the protests of July 2016, a partial shutdown lastingaa two hours sent an early signal of what was to come.
Back then, President Emmerson Mnangagwa was vice president; by 2019, he was president, and the government’s heavy-handed response signaled not just a pattern, but the beginning of a more sinister embrace of digital authoritarisnism.
Digital authoritarinism?
To clarify, digital authoritarianism refers to the use of technology by authoritarian regimes to monitor, control, and repress their citizens, a phenomenon that scholars like Steven Feldstein have explored in depth.
This practice involves extensive surveillance, censorship, and the strategic manipulation of information, often through tools like AI, facial recognition, and internet shutdowns.
For instance, in Iran, the government routinely shuts down the internet during protests and monitors citizens' communications with sophisticated surveillance tools.
Russia similarly enforces online censorship and spreads disinformation to control political narratives.
Yet, the most prominent example is China, where among many things the Social Credit System exemplifies the extremes of digital control.
This system tracks citizens' behaviours—both online and offline—and assigns scores based on their compliance with state-sanctioned norms.
In the context of Zimbabwe, what was once an isolated tool of suppression has now evolved into a cornerstone of Mnangagwa’s governance, especially as Zimbabwe deepens its ties with China.
Through deals and dialogues at the most recent Forum on China-Africa Cooperation (FOCAC), Zimbabwe has postured toward embracing not only Chinese capital but also Chinese-style governance—where control over digital spaces is paramount.
Therefore, as the president tightens his grip, we must confront an uncomfortable truth: Zimbabwe is not just adopting new technologies; it is buying into a whole new authoritarian framework.
The future will not only be shaped by roads and railways but by state surveillance and digital control—tools that, as history shows, President Mnangagwa has no qualms about wielding.
A student of surveillance?
Mnangagwa’s historical ties to China are no secret, and they are ties he holds in high regard.
In fact, as recently as September 2024, he made a symbolic visit to his former military school in Nanjing, a gesture that speaks volumes about the depth of his connection to Beijing.
It raises a compelling question: has the president become China’s most prominet student?
Consider this—China, under President Xi Jinping, has long pursued a strategy of transforming itself into a cyber superpower.
This strategy isn't just about exporting cutting-edge technology; it's about spreading an ideology rooted in state censorship, surveillance, and control.
Thomas Sankara once said, “He who feeds you controls you.” But what of leaders tutored by foreign powers?
Mnangagwa’s training in China may have done more than shape his military acumen—it may have primed him to adopt China’s model of governance, where technological advancement is wielded as a tool of repression.
To bolster my assertion , I will examine the presidents posture and actions through three critical lenses: law, infrastructure, and rhetoric.
In the realm of law, the influence of the Chinese playbook is unmistakable.
Take, for instance, within Zimbabwe’s legal framework, most notably in the 2017 Cybercrime and Cybersecurity Bill.
This piece of legislation, eerily reminiscent of China’s own efforts to silence dissent, codifies the criminalization of “communicating falsehoods online.”
In doing so, Mnangagwa’s government not only adopts this repressive legal language but also signals a troubling allegiance to a model that prioritises state control over the cherished freedoms of its citizens.
Infrastructurally, we can consider the infamous “Great Firewall” of China—a formidable digital fortress that allows the government to block thousands of websites and services while deftly censoring any politically sensitive material.
This sophisticated mechanism can easily be seen as a chilling blueprint for the internet shutdowns that have left Zimbabweans in the dark .
Further, since 2018, Mnangagwa has positioned himself as a catalyst for development, and in 2021, he proudly unveiled the National Data Centre—an impressive edifice constructed with the backing of the Chinese state and its firms.
This facility is designed to aggregate data from government records and private entities like banks.
However, one must ask: who is to say it cannot, is not, or will not be used for more insidious purposes?
Moreover, these investments extend beyond mere infrastructure. Consider the US$240 million infusion from Chinese investors into NetOne, Zimbabwe’s national mobile telecommunications company.
This financial support is paralleled by ambitious smart city initiatives, where the government has forged partnerships with Chinese firms such as Cloudwalk and Hikvision to implement facial recognition technology in public spaces.
Then, in the realm of rhetoric, where the ideological buy-in of Mnangagwa and his government becomes glaringly evident.
The president has previously boasted about his ability to track who speaks to whom and the content of their conversations.
This unsettling admission reveals a regime that seems eager to project an image of omniscience—an all-seeing, all-knowing entity watching over its citizens. Sound familiar?
This rhetoric mirrors the chilling narratives propagated by authoritarian regimes around the globe, where the illusion of total surveillance is not just a tactic but a means of instilling fear and compliance.
By fostering this perception, Mnangagwa’s administration not only seeks to legitimize its intrusive measures but also aligns itself with the very ideologies that underpin digital authoritarianism.
In this environment, dissent becomes perilous, as the lines between citizen and suspect blur, further entrenching the regime's grip on power.
What does all this mean for the citizens of Zimbabweans?
Rhetoric, law, and infrastructure are tightly linked, forming a cohesive strategy of control.
The state’s rhetoric justifies laws that enforce authoritarian ideals, while infrastructure provides the means to implement them.
In Mnangagwa's case, his government's rhetoric of surveillance is backed by legal frameworks like the Cybersecurity Act and reinforced by infrastructure projects such as the National Data Centre.
Together, these elements create a system where ideology, law, and technology intertwine to deepen state control, reflecting China’s model of digital authoritarianism.
What does all this mean for the citizens of Zimbabwe? What does it signify when the highest office in the land is occupied by a leader who proudly identifies as the most prominent student of authoritarian ideals?
While I cannot fully unpack all the implications of this chilling reality, it is abundantly clear that it terrifies many Zimbabweans—especially those who have endured the harsh realities of state repression already.
This alarming shift towards digital authoritarianism not only threatens to deepen the wounds of oppression but also raises fundamental questions about the future of freedom and democracy in our nation.
As Mnangagwa leans into this authoritarian playbook, he risks transforming Zimbabwe into a surveillance state, where the innocent are treated as suspects and dissent is met with swift retribution.
The ideological embrace of such a regime could extinguish the flickering flame of hope for a just and equitable society.
This is not merely an abstract concern; it is a lived reality for countless Zimbabweans who remember the struggles for independence and yearn for a future marked by liberty and justice.
*Dumezweni Moyo is a master of laws student at the University of Cape Town, South Africa. Email: mdumoluhle@gmail.com.
These weekly articles are coordinated by Lovemore Kadenge, an independent consultant, managing consultant of Zawale Consultants (Private) Limited, past president of the Zimbabwe Economics society and past president of the Chartered Governance and Accountancy Institute in Zimbabwe. Email: kadenge.zes@gmail.com or mobile no. +263 772 382 852