Can These Dry Bones Live?

I WAS BORN IN Bulawayo, the second largest city in Zimbabwe. Though I now teach and reside in South Africa, my family members still live in various parts of Zimbabwe. In November, I watched as scenes unfolded during a suspenseful week of regime change. A military intervention no one would have predicted set the stage for the resignation of Zimbabwe’s 37-year dictator, Robert Mugabe. Emmerson Mnangagwa became president and will serve out Mugabe’s term.

I was captivated by ordinary citizens’ spontaneous expressions of joy as they took to the streets and expressed their views for the first time without fear of reprisal. Every news station hosted political analysts, church leaders, and members of civil society engaged in rigorous debate on the meaning and impact of the momentous political and economic shifts. They focused on the potential impact on those who have borne the brunt of the economic crisis under Mugabe—which included shortages of money (which made financial transactions a logistical nightmare), widespread corruption, political repression, exceptionally high levels of unemployment, and the looting of profits from the country’s natural resources.

These vibrant debates spilled over to public spaces. People spoke freely about their views and hopes for a new Zimbabwe. Is change possible, since Mnangagwa is a member of the same political party that supported Mugabe and is associated with some of the worst atrocities committed during that party’s reign?

Zimbabweans asked, “Can these dry bones live?” Can this party bring life to Zimbabwe in ways that are different from its track record? Where can we look for models of such change?

One example, from neighboring South Africa, brings a flicker of hope. More than 20 years ago, F.W. de Klerk, president of the ruling National Party of South Africa that was responsible for racial apartheid, surprised the world by enacting radical reforms in 1989 that led to the release of anti-apartheid activist Nelson Mandela. De Klerk’s actions set in motion events that led to the release of political prisoners, the first democratic elections, and Mandela’s election as South Africa’s first black president. Many other forces also contributed to these changes, including liberation movements and international pressure, but one cannot ignore the role played by de Klerk in the dramatic shifts in South Africa’s political, economic, and social landscape. The “dry bones” flickered into life.

Only time will tell whether similar changes will happen in Zimbabwe. One hopeful shift is the vibrant conversation about moving from hero-worship and leader-idolization to a focus on the constitution that enables citizens to hold leaders accountable. The constitutional values that guarantee freedom, democracy, human rights, accountability, terms of office, and an independent judiciary must be at the center of Zimbabwe’s political life if history is not to repeat itself. An African proverb describes this aptly: “Don’t look where you fell but where you slipped.”

Churches have an important role to play in supporting the constitutional rule of law. But churches have an additional point of reference that requires them to take a prophetic and preferential option for the poor, marginalized, and excluded. Nations are judged by how they treat those who are most vulnerable. This can be extended to the role of religions in any country. Are they self-absorbed and defending their own interests or are they serving the most marginalized as a reference point for their allegiance to the faith?

The mission Jesus laid out guides churches in every era: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor and to set the captives free. As in South Africa, social movements for liberation, strong leadership from the churches, and unexpected conversions will be needed for a new Zimbabwe.