A gamble against history: Can Chamisa get the job done this time?

​The Zimbabwean political arena is less a theatre of democracy and more a graveyard of hope. For 46 years, the ruling ZANU PF has perfected the art of the “slow puncture,” a methodical deflation of any soul brave or foolish enough to dream of a different flag.

Today, as the nation drifts through the doldrums of a post-election hangover, the silhouette of Nelson Chamisa remains the only one casting a shadow long enough to matter.

Yet, as the man they call Nero prepares to roll out his Agenda 2026, we must ask a question that borders on the heretical: is popularity merely a consolation prize in a country that only respects raw power?

​Chamisa is currently a man without a party, having dramatically walked away from the Citizens Coalition for Change in early 2024. He claimed the movement had been hijacked by state imposters, a move that left his supporters in a state of bewildered devotion.

His critics, however, saw it as a retreat into the mystical. For months, his “strategic ambiguity” was the order of the day.

It was a philosophy of silence intended to keep the state guessing, but it inadvertently left his own grassroots organisers wandering in a desert of uncertainty.

In the high stakes poker of Southern African politics, if you do not show your hand, eventually the other players simply assume you have folded.

​The core of the Chamisa dilemma lies in the tension between his undeniable charisma and his structural deficit. He possesses a Pentecostal magnetism that can turn a street corner into a cathedral of defiance.

But charisma is a volatile fuel; it burns bright and hot but rarely provides the sustained energy needed to move the heavy, rusted machinery of a military-backed state.

To take power this time, Chamisa must transition from being a symbol of resistance to being the architect of a bonafide government-in-waiting.

​Ibbo Mandaza, a seasoned observer of the Zimbabwean state, has frequently pointed out this specific frailty. Mandaza argues that African opposition movements often fall into the trap of “career oppositionism.”

They become comfortable in the role of the victim, winning the moral argument while losing the tactical war. He suggests that without a clear, disciplined plan for post-victory governance, these movements remain “rich in symbolism but poor in substance.”

For Chamisa, the challenge is to prove that his movement is more than just a fan club for a talented orator. He needs a blueprint that can survive the brutal transition from the rally to the cabinet room.

​Then there is the grim reality of the state itself. The Zimbabwean government is not a neutral arbiter of elections; it is a sprawling, multi-headed entity where the party and the state have become indistinguishable.

Stephen Chan, a Professor of World Politics at the University of London, has often noted the “stormtrooper mentality” that pervades the Zimbabwean establishment. Chan’s insight is vital here: the state does not fear a popular leader; it fears a superior organisation.

ZANU PF is a machine built for survival, one that views every ballot box as a battlefield.

To get his ducks in a row, Chamisa cannot simply rely on the righteousness of his cause. He must out-organise a party that has spent nearly half a century perfecting the science of retention.

​The argument often used against this sceptical view is that the people’s will is inevitable. But history is littered with the corpses of “inevitable” movements that failed to account for the logistics of power.

In Zimbabwe, the state controls the courts, the airwaves, the police, and the electoral commission. When the playing field is tilted at a 45 degree angle, running faster is not enough; you have to change the physics of the game.

This means Chamisa must move beyond the #Godisinit slogans. While faith is a powerful motivator in a suffering nation, it is a poor substitute for a parallel vote tabulation system or a sophisticated diplomatic strategy that forces the SADC region to stop looking the other way.

​We must also consider the internal fractures within the ruling party. The whispers regarding President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s potential bid for a third term, hidden behind the “ED2030” mantra, have created a palpable tension within the old guard.

A sophisticated opposition would be hovering over these cracks with a chisel. However, Chamisa’s decision to move toward a “citizens’ movement” rather than a traditional party structure is a double-edged sword.

While it protects him from the legal “recalls” used to dismantle the CCC, it also risks alienating the veteran politicians like Tendai Biti and Welshman Ncube.

These are men who understand the technicalities of the law and the economy. To win, Chamisa needs a “Big Tent,” not a solo performance.

​The provocative truth is that Chamisa’s greatest enemy might not be the state, but the exhaustion of his own base.

The Zimbabwean voter has been promised a “New Dawn” so many times that they are beginning to prefer the predictable darkness of the status quo to the heartbreak of another stolen sunrise.

If Agenda 2026 is to be anything more than a rebrand of the 2018 or 2023 campaigns, it must offer a tangible roadmap to power. It must answer the “how” with more than just a prayer.

​As we look toward the next horizon, the burden on Nelson Chamisa is immense. He must convince a weary nation and a sceptical world that he has finally learned the lessons of the past. He must show that he can build an institution that is stronger than his own personality.

Power in Harare is not won on the podium; it is won in the meticulous, boring and often dangerous work of securing every polling station and every electoral officer.

​If he can align his ducks – the youth, the intellectuals, the diaspora, and the international community – into a single, disciplined phalanx, he may yet capture the castle.

But if he remains a ghost in the machine, haunting the halls of power without ever quite turning the key, he will find that history has a very short memory for those who were merely popular. The time for charisma is over; it’s now time for the political mechanic.

Gabriel Manyati is a Zimbabwean journalist and analyst delivering incisive commentary on politics, human interest stories, and current affairs.