Until last week, there was little on the streets of the capital that would suggest that political upheaval was in the offing.

Sure, there were signs: the power plays within ZANU-PF, President Robert Mugabe’s party, had been playing out in a press that is unexpectedly free and intrigues within the ruling party were front-page news.

The parallels with Pakistan were too obvious: with elections set for 2018 and the incumbent’s health becoming a serious concern at the age of 94, the ZANU-PF saw a power struggle of Machiavellian proportions unfold between the first lady and the man who was tipped to succeed her husband.

Over the last two weeks, headlines included criticism of Grace Mugabe, criticism of the president from the powerful War Veterans group, and a pledge to dethrone him came from none other than ex-vice president Emmerson Mnangagwa.

A week ago, it seemed Grace Mugabe had won decisively; Mnangagwa was removed from his post and expelled from the party, virtually being forced into self-exile.

How much difference does a week make? Now, the decision to remove the former loyalist and military-backed political heavyweight looks like the one miscalculation that might end up costing Mugabe his legacy.

I spent the last three weeks walking past the Zimbabwean parliament building and Africa Unity Square without seeing any signs of political mobilisation or a strong security force presence.

On Monday, only a day before the military takeover, the army chief had warned that they would be forced to intervene if the chaos within the ruling party did not end — No one took notice.

On Tuesday evening, rumours of an impending coup were swirling. Still, no one bothered.

I made nothing of the reports, because no one announces military coups in Pakistan. We learn to dismiss speculation offhand, until something just happens.

And so it was that as Zimbabwe’s ‘Meray Aziz Humwatno’ moment unfolded, I was in a hotel room in central Harare with two Brazilian comrades, dwelling on our countries’ shared history of devastating military coups.

“First, we wish to assure our nation, his Excellency the President of the Republic of Zimbabwe… Commander in Chief of the Zimbabwe Defence Forces, Comrade Robert G. Mugabe and his family are safe and sound and their security is guaranteed. We are only targeting criminals around him who are committing crimes that are causing social and economic suffering in the country in order to bring them to justice.”

Broadcast around 3:40am on Wednesday (Nov 15) on the state broadcaster ZTV, the tone and content of military spokesperson Maj Gen SB Moyo’s speech sounded eerily familiar.

By the morning, there was chaos among expats and foreigners. One of the hotel managers reported he had been roughed up by military personnel on the way to work. Soldiers were manning street crossings in the capital, asking questions of everyone trying to enter. “Don’t go towards the city centre,” was his advice.

Everyone in our group received calls from their families; most did not know what to expect. Amongst the local participants, some were nonchalant; others were fidgety.

Was it a coup or not? Were we safe? Would our flights out of Harare run on time?

After 37 years of Mugabe’s rule, it would be easy to write him off as another African strongman, but the geriatric patriarch was a key leader in the Marxist guerrilla struggle waged for Zimbabwe’s independence in the 1980s.

Mugabe’s contemporaries — names such as Kwame Nkrumah, Amilcar Cabral, Patrice Lumumba, Julius Nyerere and Steve Biko — were all either assassinated or removed from power before they could enact their radical agendas. Mugabe’s hamartia was a failure to recognise his own failings.

If there is hope in Harare, it is stifled. There is a palpable tension on the streets, but life seems to go on as usual.

On Tuesday night, when we went out for dinner at one of the local Chinese restaurants, we were the only customers, and there was a clear anxiety to close early.

On the way back, we saw over a dozen soldiers standing next to an armoured patrol vehicle near the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe.

“This is not a good step for Zimbabwe. Once the military gets involved in political disputes, there is little chance it will not happen again,” one of our hosts noted.

As a Pakistani, it was hard to disagree.

Published in Dawn, November 17th, 2017