AFTER last year’s action-packed events where all forms of regime change tactics were thwarted by the successful hosting of the ZANU PF National People’s Congress which saw the ejection of the former ‘untouchables’ members of the party, we are celebrating that achievement.
However, not all of us are celebrating.
Remember as we celebrated there were some among us who were busy selling out and trying to satisfy the colonial master’s agenda, after all, it’s common to have Judas Iscariots among our midst.
It is not surprising that the British as some of the front runners trying to enforce regime change in Zimbabwe thronged Rhodes’ grave at Matopo last Christmas.
Some camped there for several days and were reading copies of The Patriot. British scholars had developed a sudden interest on why Rhodes had been entered at Matonjeni or Njelele at the apex of our ancestral worship.
We shall follow up on this one in later issues.
This week we look at how whites are manipulating our languages and how they are using language as a regime change tool.
It started early last year with a call to have non-Ndebele speaking teachers removed from perceived Ndebele speaking communities.
What followed was a barrage of comments some condemning the idea and others upholding it, so divided on tribal lines are some individuals that they think Zimbabwe is divided.
However, before we pre-empt some of the causes of these ‘perceived’ divisions among the Ndebele and the Shona let’s look at the history leading to this ‘division’.
Pre-colonial African societies had unique sets of rules, laws and traditions suitable for particular contexts and historical realities.
These rules, laws and traditions, formed the basis of how people would live together peacefully as part of a community, state and nation.
Earlier African formations like those of Egypt in North Africa, Nubia and Axum in North East Africa, Ghana and Mali in West Africa, and Mapungubwe and Great Zimbabwe in Southern Africa, produced different political and economic systems of governance relative to their environment of operation as well as historical circumstances of formation.  
The Ndebele have attracted a lot of studies ranging from those by pre-colonial travellers, missionaries, colonialists, anthropologists and historians.
What was widely reported was their reputation for what was considered to be ‘bloodthirsty savagery’, ‘martial spirit’, ‘splendid despotism’ and ‘noble savages’.
The actual realities of power shifted during the ‘settled phase’ to the control of the means of production which superseded the control of the means of violence as the base of wealth, power and privilege.
Major institutions such as amabutho (age sets) which were largely geared towards the military, were quickly ‘tamed’ to suit the exigencies of a less aggressive environment on the Zimbabwean plateau.
Violence became minimal due to the resurgence of Shona power. 
The distinguishing features of this ‘settled phase’ and its processes of consolidation of Ndebele power included a ceaseless search for consensual governance.
The issue of rights and human rights that were pushed to the peripheries of politics during the formative stage of the state now came to the centre the state politics.
The Ndebele system of governance crystallised around the person of the king (inkosi).
This reality led some scholars to misinterpret this to mean that the Ndebele king was tyrannical and dictatorial. 
The Ndebele king was powerful, but not to the extent of becoming an absolute monarch with all power concentrated in his hands.
The Ndebele society had developed very elaborate mechanisms which acted as checks and balances on the power of the king.
The hierarchy of power facilitated communication between the leaders and the ordinary people.
It also facilitated communication between the lesser chiefs and the senior leaders up to the king.
State policies were subjected to serious debate and meetings were considered important in deciding the future of the state.
A loose group of the king’s personal confidants comprising inner advisers, collectively termed umphakathi, played a crucial role in determining state policy. They also deliberated on the difficult judicial decisions.
Historians cautioned that there was always tension between forces of centralisation and those of decentralisation of power.
The Ndebele king tried to keep as much power in his hands as was possible.
Kinship was one major ideology in the Ndebele state that was a source of both strength and weakness.
Both Mzilikazi and Lobengula were known for suspecting their own relatives to be their worst enemies and for harshness towards male royals, giving rise to the popular Ndebele idea of a blood brother as umfowethu (‘umfo’ means enemy).
The whole idea of a royal house limited the chances of ordinary people to participate fully in the governance of the state and to attain higher posts.
Only those connected to the royal family could readily attain the posts of senior chiefs.
Because politics in the Ndebele state was not open to competition as in modern day democracies, the whites saw a loophole and therefore manipulated and formed groupings that would challenge dominance of a language in the present day system as evidenced by pseudo groups purporting to support the Ndebele people’s agenda.
While the Ndebele conceded that power was to be contested, they never tolerated opposition to the incumbent leader.
Their popular ideology was “alikho ilanga elaphuma elinye lingakatshoni” (no sun has ever arisen before another one had set). 
The Ndebele emphasised that power belonged to those with power.
The ruling Khumalo house was praised as ndlangamandla (those who rule because of their power). 
Mzilikazi ruled until he died of old age without a clear successor. 
The Ndebele feared even to mention the issue of succession when Mzilikazi was still alive.
This is far from the gospel being preached by some groups who purport to represent interest of the Ndebele today.
The Ndebele patriarchal ideology dignified the leadership of older men.
Women, young men, and captives, generally stood outside the centre of power. The Ndebele king was a father figure and the people he governed conveyed their respect by referring to them as his ‘children’.
White observers especially Robert Moffat described the Ndebele system of justice as, “tyrannical in the strictest sense of the word” and that the king’s word was law. Others argued that among the Ndebele, democracy and human rights were unknown because the judiciary system was characterised by only two forms of punishment, that is, fines and death. 
Rhodesian colonial officials, especially the Native Commissioners, believed that the Ndebele brought cases to them because they offered a superior kind of justice that was far much better than that offered by African pre-colonial governments.