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Review: Chatambudza’s ‘A lion eating its cubs?’ is a disinformation campaign against ZPRA

I do not usually review scholarly material or critique academic work, but I must make an exception for Takawira Chatambudza’s outrageously misleading article, “A Lion Eating Its Cubs? Assassinations, Mutinies, Renegades, and the Failure of ZIPRA’s Turning Point Strategy, 1977–1980,” published in Small Wars & Insurgencies in February 2025.

The level of disinformation and misinformation in this article raises serious questions about the quality of the peer-review process at the Taylor & Francis journal, which allowed some of its fabrications to pass as academic arguments.

The entire article is built on the premise that ZPRA—referred to by the author as ZIPRA—was a chaotic and ineffective organisation that failed to achieve its objectives during the liberation war. The author then works backwards to justify this conclusion, making numerous claims to explain ZPRA’s alleged inefficiency. These claims largely revolve around accusations against ZAPU and ZPRA leaders and combatants, portraying them as either criminal or deliberately undermining the liberation struggle. Worse still, the article is littered with excitable, activist-style language rather than solid, irrefutable evidence to support these allegations.

As a result, the final product reads more like a Tsikamutanda Newsletter than a serious academic piece. Many of the article’s damaging claims are presented as fact, yet they are clearly opinions designed to justify pre-existing biases against ZAPU in general and the Ndebele ethnic group in particular. Below are some of the most outrageous assertions made in the article.

First, the author boldly claims that ZAPU stalwarts Jason Ziyaphapha Moyo, Charles Sotsha Ngwenya (also known as John Dube or JD), and ZPRA commander Rogers Alfred Nikita Mangena were assassinated for plotting a coup against Joshua Nkomo. To lend credibility to this claim—or at least to cloak it in moral concern—the author suggests that their deaths weakened ZPRA’s transition to conventional warfare in the late 1970s. The assassinations, he argues, compromised ZAPU/ZPRA’s ‘combat effectiveness …during a crucial phase of the armed struggle’, ultimately leading to its failure to overthrow the Rhodesian regime through full-scale conventional warfare.

The second claim, closely linked to the first, is that Nkomo ‘surround[ed] himself with loyalists [and] appointed mostly fellow Kalanga/Ndebele people to senior positions within ZAPU, to the detriment of the Shona, most of whom were Zezuru’. To support this, the author makes the factually incorrect claim that Nikita Mangena was Shona. According to the article, Mangena was not only killed for his alleged coup plot but also to make way for Ndebele/Kalanga leadership within ZPRA. Lookout Masuku’s succession of Mangena is then framed as a deliberate move by Nkomo to ensure that only Kalanga or Ndebele loyalists led his movement.

The claim that Mangena was Shona is not only false but also an insult to the readers of the journal, as it is a fabricated assertion used to justify the pre-existing narrative that Nkomo purged ZAPU and ZPRA of Shona leadership. A simple background check would have clarified Mangena’s ethnic identity—though, in any case, his ethnicity should not even be relevant when discussing his assassination. The author further claims that Ambrose Mutinhiri was overlooked as Mangena’s successor solely because he was Shona.

However, the late former Vice President Phelekezela Mphoko was also overlooked when Masuku was appointed. Since Mphoko was Ndebele, his exclusion contradicts the author’s narrative and is conveniently ignored. Why was Mutinhiri left out? That is a question the author should have investigated. From interviews with senior ZPRA commanders, the late Jack Mpofu explained that Mutinhiri was not appointed because, in 1971, he had defected with James Chikerema and others, including the late Tshinga Dube, to form FLORIZI. Mphoko himself stated in multiple interviews that, according to ZPRA hierarchy, he was next in line for command. His omission, he noted, remained a sore point in his relationship with the late Dumiso Dabengwa.

A related falsehood in the article is the claim that Shona guerrillas believed “ZAPU was an instrument for advancing the supremacy of the Ndebele ethnic group over the Shona majority” and consequently defected to ZANLA. To reinforce this, the author alleges that ZPRA guerrillas, possibly influenced by their Marxist ideology, “hated members of the vapostori sect”, humiliated them by forcing them to drink the illicit brew sikokiyana, and routinely raped women in Shona villages.

Given ZAPU’s historically diverse leadership, I have tried to understand the basis of this claim. Did the author even attempt to verify whether any guerrilla ever made such statements? Was he unaware that desertions between ZPRA and ZANLA were not uncommon? Moreover, what ideology did ZANLA cadres follow if not Marxism?

The article further claims that ZPRA combatants defected to ZANLA due to operational clashes following the deaths of Moyo and Mangena. Others, it is alleged, joined Abel Muzorewa’s Security Force Auxiliaries (SFA)/Pfumo reVanhu. While the deaths of key leaders undoubtedly affected morale and operations—as would be expected in any military movement—there is no evidence that these defections happened at the scale suggested.

John Padbury, a former Rhodesian Special Branch detective inspector who commanded Pfumo reVanhu in Hurungwe, recently told me that he never encountered any cases of ZPRA defections to the SFAs in his operational area. The supposed link between ZPRA desertions and leadership disputes seems to have been fabricated to retroactively justify the defections of ZPRA combatants at assembly points in 1980, which occurred for entirely different reasons. The author explicitly states that what happened in 1980 was “nothing new”.

This claim is an insult to the hundreds of ZPRA cadres who disappeared from assembly points or were abducted from their army stations after 1980. Many of these early victims of state violence were arrested, tortured, or even executed by the Zimbabwe National Army (ZNA). These crimes, sanctioned at the highest levels of the ZNA, are well-documented. Among those implicated is the decorated Josiah Tungamirai.

The article also attempts to frame war crimes such as rape as acts committed exclusively by ZPRA combatants against Shona women. While it is true that abuses, including torture and killings, occurred during the war—as documented in Zimbabwean scholarship—the author’s selective framing is misleading. Research has shown that rape was used as a weapon of war by both ZPRA and ZANLA combatants. Numerous accounts, including testimonies from former fighters, highlight incidents of sexual violence in guerrilla camps, often perpetrated by senior commanders. To single out ZPRA for these crimes while ignoring ZANLA’s well-documented abuses is academically dishonest.

Lastly, the article’s title suggests an in-depth exploration of assassinations within ZPRA, but this theme is only touched on sporadically. Instead, the main objective appears to be discrediting ZAPU and its military wing. Far from an academic analysis, the article reads like a work of rumour-mongering, where stereotypes and pre-existing biases are dressed up as scholarly arguments.


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One response to “Review: Chatambudza’s ‘A lion eating its cubs?’ is a disinformation campaign against ZPRA”

  1. Takawira Chatambudza avatar
    Takawira Chatambudza

    A Response to the Critique of “A Lion Eating Its Cubs? Assassinations, Mutinies, Renegades, and the Failure of ZIPRA’s Turning Point Strategy, 1977-1980”
    By Takawira Chatambudza
    Before addressing the substance of the critique, I would like to acknowledge that its author, Zenzele Ndebele, has made an important contribution to documenting the history and experiences of ZAPU and ZIPRA. Efforts to preserve the memories of liberation fighters, record oral testimonies, and stimulate public discussion about Zimbabwe’s liberation struggle are valuable and deserve recognition. We may differ in our interpretations of particular events or historical processes, but such differences are a normal and healthy part of historical scholarship. I therefore welcome Mr. Ndebele’s engagement with my work and invite him, and indeed other scholars, researchers, veterans, and interested readers, to continue participating in an open, evidence-based, and respectful debate about this important chapter of Zimbabwe’s history. Our collective understanding of the past is enriched not through personal attacks or competing certainties, but through rigorous research, careful examination of evidence, and a willingness to engage constructively with differing interpretations.
    Scholarly debate is essential to historical research. No historian expects universal agreement, particularly when writing about Zimbabwe’s liberation struggle, one of the most politically contested subjects in the country’s history. I therefore welcome critical engagement with my work. Before responding to the substance of the critique, I also wish to acknowledge Zenzele Ndebele’s important contribution to documenting the history of ZAPU and ZIPRA. His efforts to preserve historical memory and encourage public discussion are valuable, and I welcome his participation in the ongoing historical debate about this important subject.
    That said, scholarly criticism should engage with evidence, methodology, and interpretation rather than substitute assertion for analysis. Unfortunately, Mr. Ndebele’s critique does not do so. Instead, it accuses me of fabricating evidence, promoting ethnic prejudice, and deliberately seeking to discredit ZAPU and ZIPRA. These are serious allegations, yet they are made without demonstrating that I invented sources, falsified archival records, misquoted interviewees, or otherwise departed from accepted standards of historical research. Rather than carefully examining the evidence presented in the article, Mr. Ndebele dismisses years of archival research and oral history simply because my conclusions differ from his own interpretation of events.
    More regrettably, the Ndebele moves beyond scholarly disagreement into personal disparagement. By comparing my work to that of Tsikamutanda, a figure associated with sensational claims and superstition, it abandons historical argument in favour of ridicule. Such language does not strengthen a scholarly critique; it diminishes it. The comparison is particularly unfortunate because it shifts attention away from the evidence and towards the person who produced it. My article was written as the culmination of years of research and was published only after rigorous anonymous peer review by independent specialists and careful editorial scrutiny in a respected international journal. One may disagree with its arguments or interpretations, as is entirely legitimate in academic scholarship, but disagreement should be addressed by presenting stronger evidence or more persuasive reasoning, not by questioning the integrity of the author, dismissing the professionalism of anonymous reviewers, or suggesting that a reputable scholarly journal abandoned its editorial standards simply because it published conclusions that challenge one’s own interpretation of the internal dynamics of ZAPU and ZIPRA.
    Mr Ndebele argues that my article begins with the assumption that ZIPRA was a failed military organisation and then works backwards to justify that conclusion. This is an inaccurate reading of the article. My study does not argue that ZIPRA failed because its soldiers lacked courage, discipline, or military skill. Indeed, throughout my research I have consistently acknowledged ZIPRA’s professionalism, conventional military training, logistical sophistication, and important battlefield contributions. The central question of the article is much narrower. It asks why ZIPRA’s ambitious strategy of conventional military escalation during the late 1970s did not achieve the political and military breakthrough its leadership expected. This is a legitimate historical question. Examining organisational weaknesses, internal tensions, strategic disagreements, leadership crises, and external pressures is standard historical practice. Military historians routinely ask similar questions about every army, whether victorious or defeated. Such analysis should not be mistaken for hostility toward the organisation under study.
    Mr Ndebele further claims that I portray ZAPU leaders as criminals who deliberately sabotaged the liberation struggle. This is incorrect. The article does not reduce the history of ZAPU to criminality. Rather, it examines how leadership struggles, intelligence failures, assassinations, mutinies, and organisational conflict affected military effectiveness during a critical period of the war. Internal conflict has been documented in virtually every liberation movement in Africa. Recognising this reality neither diminishes the legitimacy of the liberation struggle nor dishonours those who fought it. One of the strongest criticisms concerns the deaths of Jason Ziyaphapha Moyo, Charles Sotsha Ngwenya, and Rogers Alfred Nikita Mangena. Ndebele states that I presented as established fact that these leaders were assassinated because they were plotting a coup against Joshua Nkomo. This misrepresents the article. Historical writing often evaluates competing explanations when documentary certainty is impossible. The deaths of these senior figures have been debated for decades. Different participants, intelligence reports, memoirs, and oral testimonies have offered different explanations. My article analyses these competing interpretations using available evidence. It does not claim that every allegation is beyond dispute. On the contrary, it recognises that secrecy, intelligence operations, and the destruction of records make definitive conclusions difficult.
    History frequently deals with probabilities rather than mathematical certainty. Presenting evidence for one interpretation does not mean claiming that alternative interpretations do not exist. The critique also accuses me of inventing ethnic divisions within ZAPU and ZIPRA. Once again, this misunderstands the article. Ethnicity has long been recognised by historians as one factor shaping political competition within Zimbabwean nationalism. This literature predates my work by several decades and includes scholars from diverse intellectual and political traditions. To acknowledge that some members perceived ethnic imbalance is not the same as arguing that ethnicity alone determined appointments or organisational policy. Institutions are shaped by multiple factors including military experience, personal trust, organisational loyalty, regional politics, ideological commitment, and wartime circumstances. My article examines these complexities rather than reducing them to a single explanation.
    Ndebele specifically challenges my discussion of leadership succession after Mangena’s death and offers an alternative explanation for why Ambrose Mutinhiri was not appointed. Such alternative interpretations are welcome. They contribute to historical debate. However, presenting another explanation does not invalidate mine unless supported by stronger evidence. Historians often interpret the same event differently because they rely on different bodies of evidence.
    Mr Ndebele also criticises my discussion of desertions and defections. Here again, it substitutes anecdote for systematic evidence. Citing the recollection of one former security official cannot invalidate documentary evidence, intelligence reports, military records, and multiple oral testimonies considered together. Individual memory is valuable, but it is not automatically conclusive. Every historian knows that memories differ, especially decades after the events themselves. That is precisely why historical interpretation depends on triangulating many different sources rather than relying on a single witness. The criticism regarding violence against civilians deserves careful consideration because it concerns an emotionally difficult subject. My article does not argue that only ZIPRA committed abuses during the liberation war. Nor does it suggest that such abuses were unique to ZIPRA. The liberation war was violent, complex, and often brutal. A substantial body of scholarship has documented abuses committed by multiple armed actors, including Rhodesian security forces, ZANLA, ZIPRA, and auxiliary forces. My article focuses on evidence relating to ZIPRA because that is the subject under investigation. No single journal article can examine every dimension of violence committed by every participant in the conflict. To study abuses committed by one organisation should never be interpreted as denying abuses committed by another.
    Mr Ndebele further alleges that my work reflects prejudice against the Ndebele people. This accusation is particularly disappointing because it replaces historical argument with speculation about personal motive. My research has consistently examined both ZANLA and ZIPRA with equal scholarly scrutiny. My publications have analysed violence, strategy, leadership, and internal conflict across Zimbabwe’s liberation movements without privileging one organisation over another. Historical scholarship cannot become credible if historians are accused of ethnic bias simply because they investigate uncomfortable evidence. Ndebele also questions the integrity of the peer-review process at Small Wars & Insurgencies. Such criticism should not be made lightly. The journal is an internationally respected publication with rigorous peer review conducted by independent specialists. My manuscript underwent multiple rounds of anonymous review, revision, and editorial assessment before publication. Reviewers required substantial revisions, additional evidence, clarification of arguments, and engagement with wider historiography. The published article reflects that extensive scholarly process. Disagreement with a published article does not demonstrate failure of peer review. It demonstrates that historians continue to debate important questions.
    Finally, I encourage readers to engage directly with my article rather than relying on summaries or characterisations of its contents. Historical arguments should be evaluated through careful reading of the evidence, sources, methodology, and reasoning presented by the author. The history of Zimbabwe’s liberation struggle belongs to no political party, ethnic community, or ideological tradition. It is a shared history that deserves careful, critical, and evidence-based scholarship. Historians have a responsibility not only to preserve heroic narratives but also to investigate difficult questions, uncomfortable evidence, and contested interpretations. That responsibility sometimes produces conclusions that challenge established assumptions. Such conclusions should be answered with evidence rather than accusation. Serious historical debate is strengthened by careful disagreement. It is weakened when scholarship is dismissed through personal attacks or by attributing malicious motives to researchers. I remain committed to rigorous archival research, careful oral history, transparent methodology, and respectful scholarly dialogue. That is how our understanding of Zimbabwe’s past will continue to develop.

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