Are attempts to elevate Tagwirei a betrayal of “Operation Restore Legacy”? 

Tendai Ruben Mbofana

When the Zimbabwe Defence Forces rolled into Harare in November 2017, triggering the dramatic ouster of Robert Mugabe, they did not call it a coup. 

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Instead, they framed their actions as a patriotic mission — “Operation Restore Legacy” — aimed at rescuing the country and its ruling party, ZANU-PF, from what they described as “criminals surrounding the president.” 

But anyone paying attention at the time understood that this was essentially a factional purge — a military-led intervention to halt the rise of the G40 faction, composed of younger politicians such as Saviour Kasukuwere, Walter Mzembi, Jonathan Moyo, and Patrick Zhuwao. 

These individuals, who lacked liberation war credentials, were perceived as using their closeness to Mugabe — particularly through Grace Mugabe — to sideline and potentially replace the old guard of war veterans and military-aligned power brokers within ZANU-PF.

The G40’s agenda was never ideological. 

It was not about modernizing the party, nor was it about technocratic reform. 

It was about seizing control of the party through strategic loyalty to Mugabe and leveraging patronage networks to consolidate power. 

Their rise posed a threat not because they represented a new political vision for Zimbabwe, but because they threatened to dismantle the long-standing liberation war hierarchy that had defined ZANU-PF’s leadership model. 

The military, which has always viewed itself as the custodian of the revolution, interpreted this as a betrayal of the very foundation upon which the party — and the country — was built.

“Operation Restore Legacy” was thus justified on the grounds of preserving the liberation struggle’s legacy. 

It was portrayed as a necessary course correction to protect ZANU-PF from being hijacked by self-serving political opportunists with no historical stake in the war for independence. 

It was supposed to safeguard the principle that leadership in ZANU-PF must be earned through sacrifice, struggle, and loyalty to the revolutionary cause. 

And yet, seven years later, the same people who framed the military intervention in those lofty ideological terms are now engaged in a far more blatant betrayal of that so-called legacy.

The reported push by President Emmerson Mnangagwa to fast-track controversial businessman Kudakwashe Tagwirei into ZANU-PF’s Central Committee — widely believed to be a precursor to positioning him as a future presidential successor — is the most glaring contradiction to the ideals of Operation Restore Legacy. 

Tagwirei has never held any position in the party, not even at a local cell level. 

He has no war credentials. 

His rise to prominence is not through service or sacrifice, but through opaque state contracts, uncompetitive tenders, and questionable acquisitions of national assets. 

He represents the very class of economic opportunists that the military claimed it was protecting the country from in 2017.

What is unfolding is a redefinition of ZANU-PF — from a party that once prided itself on being the political arm of the liberation war, to a party that now seems comfortable being the political arm of tenderpreneurs. 

The ideology of Chimurenga is being swapped for the creed of corruption. 

Under Mnangagwa’s leadership, the party no longer feels compelled to even pretend that it is driven by revolutionary ideals. 

The attempted elevation of Tagwirei is not just political opportunism; it is the formal abandonment of the party’s foundational myth.

If the rise of the G40 was condemned for pushing individuals without struggle credentials into powerful positions, how can Tagwirei’s ascendancy be justified? 

His influence stems not from grassroots support or political work, but from wealth accumulated through his proximity to the presidency and an unrivaled grip on public procurement. 

To promote him to the Central Committee — the party’s highest decision-making body outside Congress — and position him for national leadership is a far deeper betrayal of Operation Restore Legacy than anything G40 ever attempted. 

It is a signal that the revolution is now fully for sale.

This has not gone unnoticed. 

Reports that Vice President Constantino Chiwenga had Tagwirei ejected from a recent Central Committee meeting suggest deep resistance within the liberation war establishment. 

Chiwenga, who fronted the 2017 military intervention, is no stranger to factional politics. 

He is widely believed to harbor presidential ambitions of his own. 

But his pushback against Tagwirei’s elevation is not just personal rivalry — it reflects the concerns of a broader constituency within the party and the military who still believe, or claim to believe, in the liberation ethos. 

Similarly, Cabinet Minister Monica Mutsvangwa’s recent remarks condemning those who seek to buy political influence with money are widely seen as a rebuke of Tagwirei-style politics.

The question now is whether these voices of resistance will hold. 

Because what is at stake is not just the future of ZANU-PF — but the future of how political power is acquired and exercised in Zimbabwe. 

If the presidency is to become the preserve of those with wealth rather than war credentials, then ZANU-PF will have crossed a line it has long claimed it would never abandon. 

It will cease to be a revolutionary movement, even in name, and will become little more than a shell for protecting the economic interests of a few connected elites.

In truth, the signs of ideological decay have long been visible. 

While ZANU-PF has always been associated with corruption, it has historically maintained the illusion of revolutionary continuity — invoking the liberation struggle to justify its rule. 

But under Mnangagwa, even that illusion is collapsing. 

The party is being hollowed out, stripped of its symbolic power, and handed over to men whose only qualification is their ability to fund campaigns and shield the elite from accountability. 

Tagwirei’s potential elevation to the presidency would be the final confirmation of that transformation.

If the generals and veterans who launched Operation Restore Legacy still believe in the legacy they claimed to defend, this is the time to speak out. 

Because if the party is handed over to a man who never fought for it, never served it, and only bankrolls it, then the betrayal of 2017 is complete — and the revolution they claimed to restore will finally, and irreversibly, be sold to the highest bidder.

Post published in: Featured