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Operation Murambatsvina: Zimbabwe's Man-Made Tsunami
Amanda Atwood
Extracted from AFRICA ON CAMPUS - Winter 2005, Volume 17, No 1
December 2005

On 18 May 2005, the Government of Zimbabwe launched Operation Murambatsvina, literally meaning "sweep out the rubbish" in Shona. The government, however, loosely translated it as "Operation Restore Order," claiming that this was an exercise in cleaning up Zimbabwe’s urban areas and reducing illegal activity. In fact, Operation Murambatsvina turned out to be a devastating attack on Zimbabwe’s already struggling urban population, drawing international condemnation and threaten to have lasting negative implications for Zimbabwe’s urban poor.

Operation Murambatsvina was conducted in two phases over a two-month period. In the first phase, the Government of Zimbabwe targeted street vendors and flea markets, and in the second phase urban residences, particularly in high-density areas.

Unemployment in Zimbabwe currently runs at over 70 percent as the country undergoes its worst economic crisis since independence in 1980, triggered largely by President Robert Mugabe’s controversial land redistribution program. Faced with limited prospects for formal employment, the majority of Zimbabwean households have turned to the informal sector. Prior to the "clean up" operation, vendors operated on every urban street corner and within "People’s Markets" designated by local officials for authorized vending. Selling a wide range of goods from vegetables to furniture, these vendors, many of whom were registered with the government and paid licensing fees, supported hundreds of thousands of Zimbabweans. All of this changed dramatically in May 2005 when urban traders were targeted in wave after wave of police crackdowns. Vendors were chased off street corners, indoor and outdoor flea markets, and even the people’s markets of registered vendors. Goods were seized by the police or destroyed on the spot, bulldozers razed market stalls, over 20,000 vendors were arrested, and the UN estimates some 32,538 people lost their livelihoods. Almost overnight, the character of cities and towns was transformed as thriving market areas were destroyed.

Murambatsvina didn’t stop with vendors. In phase II of the operation, the government targeted the homes of millions of Zimbabweans, primarily poor people living in high-density urban areas. Police stormed these neighborhoods while bulldozers tore through destroying entire communities in one fell swoop. In Mabvuku, police instructed residents to destroy their own homes or risk fines, arrest or physical beatings. Cowed by years of police intimidation, the residents complied. In Hatcliffe, residents were ordered to remove their personal belongings from their homes and then to burn them to the ground. Even housing cooperatives that were "officially" launched by the government were completely demolished. At least 2.4 million Zimbabweans were indirectly affected by the campaign, and an estimated 569,685 men, women and children were rendered homeless in the process, just as Zimbabwe reached its coldest months.

But surely Zimbabweans did not just stand by as the police swept in and tore their homes to the ground? In the early days of Operation Murambatsvina, there were isolated acts of resistance in confrontation with the police. Some residents in high-density areas placed burning tires as roadblocks and engaged police in running battles, throwing stones in an effort to keep the police out of their neighborhoods. The police responded brutally with tear gas, riot dogs and baton sticks, eventually forcing protestors into submission.

Response by civil society was poorly organized and ineffective. A broad alliance of civil society organizations, including the trade unions, student groups and other civic groups tried to organize a stay-away (strike) against Operation Murambatsvina and the ongoing economic and political crisis, but it was poorly organized and even more poorly adhered to although Operation Murambatsvina targeted opposition strongholds. Like the exhausted travelers’ described in Michela Wrong’s latest book on Eritrea, "I didn’t do it for you: how the world betrayed a small African nation," Zimbabweans appear to have succumbed to several years of intimidation and repression under Mugabe’s regime seemingly "past caring and anger having long since given way to exhaustion."

After violently gaining control over Zimbabwe’s urban communities, the government launched Operation Garikai/Hlalani Kuhle ("beautiful life"). In this campaign, the government has pledged to build new services and hygienic flea markets for vendors and homes for the millions of now homeless urban residents. Government reports estimate that it will take 2-3 years to rebuild what was destroyed in two months.

In the meantime, vendors are struggling to rebuild their businesses. Strict new requirements for registration have made it much more difficult for them to get permits while licensing fees are prohibitive. In addition, restocking costs are beyond the reach of many if not most. Many residents have returned to the same spots they were before Operation Murambatsvina and have to start from scratch. Families that used to live in brick homes with solid roofs now live in flimsy wooden or plastic shacks. Recently, the Minister for Local Government who implemented Operation Murambatsvina, sent a request to donors to fund the purchase of tens of thousands of wooden pre-fabricated garden sheds. The sheds are intended to replace the brick homes that the government destroyed. Others continue to live at "holding areas," poorly serviced tent camps where Zimbabweans are forced to live like refugees in their own country.

What is the way forward? Zimbabwe’s already struggling urban population has been dealt a severe blow. Following Operation Murambatsvina, they are now even less able to care for themselves or their extended families in the rural areas as before. The UN reckons that as many as 4 million of Zimbabwe’s 12 million residents will require food aid in the coming months, and even the government, ever reluctant to admit wrongdoing, has acknowledged that two million Zimbabweans will need food aid. Skyrocketing inflation, a telling sign of an economy now in its sixth year of recession, hit 411 percent in October, according to Zimbabwe’s Central Statistical Office. The fuel shortage has become a fuel outage, while school fees have increased by 1000 percent.

Zimbabwe’s man-made "tsunami," as many Zimbabweans call it, may not have received the same media coverage as other disasters, but its impact on individuals’ lives and futures is profound.

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