The Courage of Dialogue in Times of Democratic Ruin

Alípio Freeman"

The recent rapprochement between Venâncio Mondlane and Daniel Chapo deserves a sincere analysis before congratulations, and it is not out of scepticism, on the contrary, it is a gesture of responsibility taking into account the history of political agreements signed that failed to bring about changes towards the consolidation of the national state and reduce political divisions and, above all, the promotion of the much-desired social well-being that with each passing day seems more like a mirage. However, in a country immersed in a profound crisis of national identity, where intolerance grows and hatred spreads like wildfire, it is imperative to recognize the symbolism represented by the simple act of sitting at the same table, even in a scenario of pseudo-institutionalized efforts towards national pacification. It is necessary, with intellectual honesty, to state that Mozambican democracy has failed to consolidate the process of creating a State with the requirements that truly justify its existence. Territoriality is not enough to speak of a State. What is needed is a spirit of belonging, a common identity that unites the people, a collective awareness that we are part of a common project. In Mozambique, this awareness is fragmented, and belonging is often replaced by dangerous sectarianism that deepens exclusion and feeds the feeling of not belonging to a State that is limited to geography, without a soul or real representation. The absence of a solid national identity undermines any attempt to consolidate the state. The perception that the country's resources are distributed on the basis of party affiliations and ties of loyalty to the ruling party completely undermines the principle of the universality of the state. The ordinary citizen sees himself as a stranger in his own country, where rights and opportunities have become privileges reserved for the political elite and their associates. This is why the gesture of Mondlane and Chapo, when they met, carries a remarkable symbolic weight. It represents, above all, the acceptance that Mozambique needs all Mozambicans, even those with whom one disagrees. It represents the courage to recognize the other, not as an enemy, but as a legitimate part of the national body. It is, in a certain sense, a belated echo of what should have been the post-electoral spirit: respect for plurality, for the sovereign will of the people and for the need for continuous dialogue. However, this meeting also reveals a painful reality: democracy in Mozambique continues to be negotiated outside the ballot box. Every gesture of reconciliation between political figures, although necessary, reveals the failure of the democratic process as a legitimate channel for change and participation. When consensus is imposed outside the institutional space and the election results do not reflect the will of the people, democracy becomes a simulacrum, a performance that maintains appearances while the content is eroded. Electoral justice institutions, far from being guardians of the democratic process, have become its executioners. Commanded by interests that are alien to the nation, they now serve as instruments to legitimize fraud, corruption and manipulation. Their bias is visible and indisputable. In each electoral cycle, the same scenario reappears: complaints ignored, deaths in the streets, repression of demonstrations and, in the end, the consecration of results previously decided behind the scenes of power. Frelimo has taught its members that everything has a price. This destructive teaching has taken root in public institutions, where magistrates who should be examples of integrity become accomplices in crimes against democracy. Some appear publicly to complain about the lack of independence, but these are empty complaints, mere formalities, because in practice they gather at the table of power to laugh at the misfortune of a people without justice. In this context, the rapprochement between Chapo and Mondlane, however well-intentioned, is still a defeat for the democratic ideal. A truly sovereign people chooses its leaders at the polls, and does not witness belated reconciliations between political elites, as if this were a substitute for transparent processes. What we are seeing is the transformation of electoral processes into mere formal stages, devoid of meaning, where the people vote by ritual, but the result is always decided by obscure interests. The direct consequence of this is a growing lack of interest in political participation. Young people, who should be the first to engage in building the future, are skeptical. Although the Mozambican electorate is seen as irrational in its choices, it is urgent to deconstruct this minimalist and even prejudiced tendency, since the real results show a vote with a punitive tendency and penalizing the party of the day for poor state management. And even those who do not vote must point out a certain rationality in this act; it is not a question of civic ignorance, but of a rational observation: voting is no longer worth anything. Politics has been hijacked, and with it, hope. Still, I welcome the idea of consensus that benefits the people. But these consensuses should not serve as a shield to perpetuate the status quo. They should be the beginning of a true process of institutional reform, culminating in the purification of electoral justice and the restoration of public trust. It is imperative that democratic uncertainty be introduced into electoral processes — uncertainty in the sense that no one is guaranteed victory before the vote. Sovereignty should be returned to the people, the value of the vote should be reestablished and, above all, human life should be respected. We cannot continue to bury citizens at every election. We cannot continue to deny the obvious: Mozambique is sick, and the cure begins by recognizing that democracy, as it stands, does not serve the people; it serves vested interests, those who live off manipulation and exclusion. May this meeting between Chapo and Mondlane be a starting point, but may the true destiny be a country where politics is based on the will of the people, and not on private negotiations. The Mozambican people deserve more, they deserve justice, transparency and dignity. And all of this starts with courage: the courage to change, the courage to deconstruct an ineffective and unproductive system. It is not necessarily the courage to say enough, but the courage to question why we continue like this when we have everything to live better.

2025/12/3