Mozambican Security Council, gilded cradle of lifelong power for some comrades

Paulo Vilanculo"

The recent appointment of Defense and Security advisors by the President of the Republic has rekindled old concerns about the criteria for composing strategic state bodies. In the shadow of power, figures historically linked to the political elite are once again gaining prominence, even when their operational relevance or physical capabilities no longer align with the contemporary challenges of governance. Instead of an active advisory body, we have an echo chamber, where the main selection criteria are not knowledge or security vision, but political trust and institutional docility. In a context where the country faces complex challenges, from terrorism in Cabo Delgado to urban crime to the urgent need for reforms in the defense and security forces, maintaining a council with members who have served several generations of presidents raises legitimate concerns. Fear of risk containment and surveillance of figures with military or intelligence backgrounds? Where are the young, technically capable cadres systematically excluded from decision-making? Will we forever continue to recycle the past, or will we seek true renewal? What practical contribution can this past offer? At the palace ceremony, held with the usual rigid ceremonial and eloquent silences, in addition to the Ministers of Defense and Interior, whose presence is institutional, the reinstatement of a former Minister of Defense, a distinguished expert in military nuances, stood out. Although he had not demonstrated any tangible results of military pacification during his tenure, he has now been recalled to the ranks of the council as if no time had passed. Curiously, other inductees, figures of undeniable historical importance but advanced in years, moved around leaning on canes, perhaps symbolizing not only physical fragility but also the persistence of a system that refuses to renew itself. The composition of the Security Council illustrates a cyclically recurring phenomenon: a turnover within the same hegemonic group, the so-called "golden-born comrades." Power, rather than a temporary service, tends to be treated as a hereditary or lifelong right, where merit and strategic vision give way to loyalties and nostalgia for past glories. The symbolism is so powerful that the nation's security is entrusted to men who barely disguise their limitations. Thus, the future seems a prisoner of the past, and national security becomes a matter not only of weapons and strategies, but of the political courage to break the cycle of stagnation. Instead of a council defending national sovereignty, what we see is a circle of self-protection for a worn-out elite, more concerned with perpetuating its legacy than with modernization. The exclusion of other reserve ministers or strategists from the Defense and Interior portfolios in the new Security Council may reflect a calculated political move, and there are several possible reasons, intertwined with power interests, political loyalty, and internal risk management. Attachés and diplomats, for example, are familiar with the behind-the-scenes geopolitics and the challenges and weaknesses of states in the international arena. They are sometimes witnesses to decisions, agreements, or backroom deals that have never been made public. Inviting them to a strategic council would be giving a voice to those who could discredit the official narrative, bringing to light contradictions within the state or military action, especially in areas like Cabo Delgado. Some reserve strategists are also highly knowledgeable about the insider dealings of power—former military personnel, former intelligence chiefs, or specialists trained at academies in the former Soviet bloc. The government may not have fully trusted many of the reserve cadres, fearing parallel alliances, future ambitions, or dubious relationships with internal factions. In a regime where the stability of personal power trumps technical logic, and trust is more important than competence, it's better to surround oneself with loyalists, even if they're ineffective, than to risk giving voice to voices with their own, or perhaps controversial, opinions. Their return to the Council could pose a shadow risk, as many possess sensitive information, behind-the-scenes influence, or informal networks that could challenge direct control. It's vital to avoid them, include them, and shield oneself from potential internal dissent and silent manipulation. On the other hand, the rupture between academia and power, in the gap between academic knowledge and governance, is visible. The state rarely consults universities, research centers, or independent academics to consider national security, foreign policy, or defense. Academics are seen as "disconnected theorists" or even as potentially subversive elements, especially those with some intellectual autonomy or ties to international organizations. Academics and diplomats bring with them more analytical views, based on evidence from international doctrine and strategic reflection, which often clashes with partisan political decisions based on loyalty, emotion, or expediency of the moment. Their presence could mean questioning the dictates of power, something that authoritarian or centralizing regimes avoid at all costs. Thus, critical and technically grounded thinking is avoided, or it is better not to listen to those who may think differently, even if that thought is constructive. The exclusion of experienced academics, diplomats, and attachés avoids the risk of creating a truly strategic council because it would give the Security Council genuine technical and institutional depth, capable of proposing serious reforms, modern plans, and even pressuring the President to act transparently. This is everything the powers that be want in a body that, in their eyes, should ratify decisions rather than advise independently. The council, therefore, cannot be too strategic; it must be controllable. It seems to prefer an environment of passive consensus, where advisors say "yes, sir," rather than one where decisions of power are questioned, proposed, or challenged. The Council was not established based on the logic of technical merit or international experience. It is not about selecting the best minds in Defense or International Relations, but rather about rewarding loyal comrades, symbolic prestige, and political loyalty, preserving and ensuring institutional silence. The focus of maintaining a symbolic, non-operational Security Council can be seen not as an effective technical-strategic body, but rather as a restricted circle of validation for a political rather than a functional objective, of advisors for consecration: legitimizing decisions with the endorsement of loyal veterans, and not fostering strategic debate or profound reforms. A chorus of allies repeating the playbook, not experienced voices who, by being free or lucid, can shake the foundations of a power already aged in form and thought. By integrating symbolic figures, even with a cane, one may be paying internal political debts, or fulfilling a kind of unwritten protocol of honor and recognition for veterans, avoiding tensions within the historical wing of rewarding comrades from the political cradle. The appointment of advisors like this, far from strengthening public trust, creates the feeling that power continues to be treated as a dynastic inheritance and that security mechanisms are confused with the mechanisms for maintaining power itself. It's a way of saying: "we haven't forgotten you," even as the country remains mired in insecurity.

2025/12/3