Britain picking the cake pieces

EU officials have said the sanctions would be suspended shortly pending the outcome of Zimbabwe’s referendum on a new constitution, and forthcoming general elections.
Britain, we are told, is keen to mend bridges with Zimbabwe now, albeit grudgingly, in fear of missing out on the latter’s vast mineral treasure trove.
Rivals from the East, particularly China, Russia and India, are snapping up huge chunks of the mineral treasure trove, and London is worried it might be reduced to a mere bystander in a former colony.
Britain mobilised the EU and the rest of the white world to impose the sanctions to dethrone President Robert Mugabe for seizing farms from its kith and kin who had monopoly ownership of the best farmland in Zimbabwe.
But now with an eye on the mineral treasure trove, most of which was undiscovered at de-colonisation, London is having a change of heart on sanctions. Talk of a sweetener for re-entry into, and re-admission, by Zimbabwe. Indeed, the sanctions have turned out to be a potent weapon, but for both Britain — initially — and Zimbabwe — now. They wrecked havoc on Zimbabwe’s economy in the early stages, and almost achieved their intended purpose — regime change — in 2008.
But the introduction of multiple currencies in 2009, by Zanu-PF, not only neutralised the sanctions but turned them into a potent weapon for Zimbabwe, which has forced a change of heart by Britain.
The multiple currency trading regime has blunted the sanctions, and these are now an ineffectual weapon for regime change for Britain and her Western allies.
As a weapon for Zimbabwe, the sanctions spurred the country on the land reform front, and lately delivered an even more devastating blow to British interests — indigenisation, and preferential parcelling out of “access rights” to the mineral treasure trove based on reciprocal friendship. Zimbabwe, justifiably so morally, has used the sanctions to limit British and EU access to its coveted mineral resources. Britain, it seems, can’t take this, and is now suing for rapprochement, albeit grudgingly and conspiratorially. Understandably so, given Zimbabwe’s changing economic and political dynamics.
The Chinese have sunk their teeth quite deeply into our huge diamond sector, the Indians have snapped up the iron and steel industry, and the Russians are exploring the chrome and platinum industries, just to name but a few examples. Under normal circumstances in Africa’s post-independence geo-political set-up, Britain, as Zimbabwe’s former colonial power, should have had a privileged seat on the country’s dinner table, with the Chinese, Indians and Russians picking up scraps.
But London, through her unrelenting regime change quest, fouled the dinner table in Zimbabwe, and the Chinese, Indians and Russians cleaned the mess, and are reaping handsomely for their handiwork.
Now Britain, through the hinted suspension of the sanctions, wants to re-claim her privileged position on the dinner table in Zimbabwe. Good luck.
Good luck indeed because Britain’s interventionist politics have not fouled the dinner table in Zimbabwe alone but in a lot other places, even in the sub-region.
Across the Zambezi, despite Zambia being London’s former colony, Britain is also picking scraps from the dinner table dropped mainly by the Indians, South Africans and the Chinese. The Indians are building power stations, and also investing heavily in mining in Zambia, and so are the Chinese especially in the country’s economic life blood — the copper industry. The latter even run special economic zones in Zambia.
Mozambique, despite joining Britain’s Commonwealth, has turned to Brazil to develop its vast agricultural and hydro-power potential, and tap its enormous coal reserves. The two countries have a common Portuguese heritage. For Britain, Mozambique’s new Commonwealth heritage has not counted for much in securing her a privileged position on the dinner table, and this may be explained by London’s intrusive politics exhibited in Zimbabwe. Even in Nigeria, another former British colony, the picture is the same; Britain is picking up scraps from the dinner table dropped by the Russians and the Chinese. Oga is similarly wary of the ex-master, more so having been drafted at some point in London’s dirty land games in Zimbabwe. In Nyanja, a common language in Malawi, Mozambique and Zambia, they say chawona munzako chapita, mawa chilikwaiwe. A misfortune that befalls a friend today has passed; tomorrow it’s your turn.
It is a lesson that certainly Mozambique and Zambia took to heart, and a lot more countries are considering, in their relations with Britain and her fellow white world.
In the first Gulf War in the 1990s, then Syrian President Hafez al-Assad, father to current leader Bashar al-Assad, joined America’s “coalition of the willing” to eject Iraqi’s Saddam Hussein from Kuwait. Assad and Saddam were regional rivals, the former allied to Iran, the latter’s “mother of all enemies”.
When US President George Bush called for a jihad against Saddam, President Hafez al-Assad gladly jumped on the bandwagon with tanks and other killing kitty. Britain was the number two sponsor of the Gulf War.
Little did the Syrian leader know that, years down the line, his son would be the target of his partner’s next jihad. — New Ziana.