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How to cite this thesis

Surname, Initial(s). (2012). Title of the thesis or dissertation (Doctoral Thesis / Master’s Dissertation). Johannesburg: University of Johannesburg. Available from: http://hdl.handle.net/102000/0002 (Accessed: 22 August 2017).

Does President Mugabe’s shit stink too? An exploration of selected Mugabe memes on Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp (2015-2017)

By

Constance Kasiyamhuru

201316002

Supervisor: Prof. Nyasha Mboti

A thesis submitted in fulfilment of the requirements of the degree of Masters in Communication Studies in the Faculty of Humanities, University of Johannesburg.

June 2019

i

Declaration

I, Constance Kasiyamhuru (Student #201316002), hereby declare that I am the sole author of this study entitled Does President Mugabe’s shit stink too? An exploration of selected Mugabe memes on Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp. This dissertation is a presentation of my original work unless otherwise indicated in the text. All referenced materials, citations and contributions of others have been duly acknowledged. The work was done under the guidance and supervision of Prof. Nyasha Mboti in the Department of Communication Studies at the University of Johannesburg. This research has not been previously submitted for any degree and is not being currently considered for any degree and/or examination at any other university.

ii

Dedication

To my late mother, Lena, you gave me the courage to aspire for the best in life. I have spent most of my life working hard to make you proud. You shall forever remain in my heart and I will never disappoint you.

To my grandmother, Susan, you taught me that education was the key to success, and you prayed for me every step of the way. You raised me to be an ambitious woman, and I owe part of my success to you.

iii

Acknowledgements

Working on this thesis was not an easy journey. I worked tirelessly and managed to finish in good time. But this would not have been possible without my supervisor, who not only inspired me to work hard on this project, but also put a lot of effort and hard work to ensure that we produce good results. So firstly, I wish to thank Professor Nyasha Mboti, the best supervisor I have yet come across. Thank you, Prof, for your exceptional guidance and words of encouragement which helped me to cope with my work and nervousness. I always doubted my abilities but working with Prof. Mboti made me realise that I was being too hard on myself, and so I became a better person.

Secondly, I would like to thank my MA colleagues, and lecturers in the CMS department, for making my MA experience worthwhile. Special thanks to Prof. Pier Paolo Frassinelli, whose words of reassurance pushed me to continue working hard. Many thanks to my mentor, Dr Lyton Ncube, for believing in me and inspiring me. I am grateful for your words of wisdom and encouragement which made me more eager to pursue my MA.

Finally, I am grateful to my family for their constant moral support and prayers, which made this journey more bearable. I wish to express my gratitude to one of the most amazing people in my life, my grandmother, who happens to be my pillar of strength, for her endless love and support.

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Acronyms

#RMF #RhodesMustFall

AIPPA Access To Information And Protection Of Privacy Act

BSA Broadcasting Services Act

CECA Censorship And Entertainment Control Act

CHOGM Commonwealth Heads of Government meeting

CIO Central Intelligence Organisation

CODE Criminal Law (Codification And Reform) Act

EFF Economic Freedom Fighters

ESAP Economic Structural Adjustment Programme

FG Focus Group

FTLRP Fast Track Land Reform Programme

GNU Government Of National Unity

ICA Interception Of Communication Act

ICT Information And Communication Technologies

IMF International Monetary Fund

LGBTQ Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender And Queer

MDC Movement For Democratic Change

MISA Media Institute Of Southern Africa

MSU Midlands State University

OWS Occupy Wall Street

POSA Public Order And Security Act

UN United Nations

ZANU-PF African National Union- Patriotic Front

v

ZAPU Zimbabwe African People’s Union

ZBC Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation

ZRP Zimbabwe Republic Police

vi

Abstract

This study is about the interaction of Zimbabweans with subversive internet memes in a time of generalised political repression. Grounded in Bakhtin’s concept of carnival, and using a qualitative research paradigm, the study set out to examine Mugabe memes on social media with the aim to investigate a simultaneously conceptual and empirical puzzle: whether President Mugabe’s shit stank (symbolically or otherwise) too just like every other Zimbabwean’s. For a long time, the larger than life political figure of Mugabe seemed indestructible. He was often represented in pro-Mugabe discourse as an infallible being whose honour and image could not be sullied by mere mortals. State-controlled media in Zimbabwe constantly promoted pro-Mugabe and pro-ZANU-PF ideologies whilst delegitimising counter-hegemonic discourses. Crucially, ridiculing the president had become an actual crime, with various pieces of draconian legislation being used to protect his image whilst restricting freedom of expression and prompting censorship. In response, Zimbabweans resorted to a “carnivalesque” platform that was barely regulated nor monitored, at least not until recently, to poke fun at President Mugabe and to demonstrate that, perhaps, his shit did actually stink. That platform was social media, in the form of WhatsApp, Twitter and Facebook. The instrument was memes, incorporating visuals and text. In carnival, marginalised voices deconstruct and ridicule power in playful satirical ways. The application of Bakhtinian carnivalesque elements to anti-Mugabe memes demonstrated that Zimbabweans shared and “consumed” a range of subversive internet memes in various ways for a variety of reasons. The main reason was to express the formerly inexpressible, to speak the publicly unspeakable, and to think the publicly unthinkable. These netizens did so under the shelter of the relative anonymity of social media. They could also hide behind the virality of the memes, since it was difficult for the authorities to punish individual sharers of posts already shared thousands, hundreds of thousands, or even millions, of times. Virality encouraged more and more daring experiments in memefying Mugabe. The result were unstructured and unsupervised practices of sharing political content that was largely unflattering about Mugabe. The study suggests that this political content challenged Mugabe’s previously unchallengeable authority in multiple ways. The study speculates that the coup that caused Mugabe to fall in November 2017 actually started, and was rehearsed, on social media. Laughter also helped many Zimbabwean social media users to lighten the existential burden of their suffering in the post-2000 era that was characterised by economic meltdown and deepening social malaise. Yet even this escapist humour retained and carried a serious political undertone. The study however cautions that the power of memetic humour as a form of protest should not be exaggerated, considering, on the one hand, the ambivalence of carnival and, on the other hand, the fact that it is still early days in the study of the full dynamics of social media. Much remains to be uncovered and known.

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Contents Declaration ...... ii

Dedication ...... iii

Acknowledgements ...... iv

Acronyms ...... v

Abstract ...... vi

Contents ...... vii

CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTION ...... 1

Background ...... 1

Justification of Study ...... 10

Research Objectives ...... 13

Research Questions ...... 14

Structure of the Study ...... 14

Conclusion ...... 14

CHAPTER TWO: LITERATURE REVIEW ...... 16

Introduction ...... 16

Enter the Sovereign: Mugabe, Mugabeism and Zimbabwean media ...... 16 Internet memes, cartoons and other forms of humour in the service of subverting power ...... 27 The use of social media and the Internet as digital spaces for political dissidence .. 50 Conclusion ...... 59

CHAPTER THREE: THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK ...... 60

Introduction ...... 60

Defining Carnival ...... 61

Conclusion ...... 83

CHAPTER FOUR: RESEARCH METHODOLOGY ...... 84

Introduction ...... 84

viii

Qualitative Research ...... 84

Data Collection: Archival Research and Focus Groups...... 84

Sampling ...... 87

Data Analysis Methods: Textual Analysis, Thematic Analysis, Semiotic Analysis .... 87

Ethical Considerations ...... 92

Conclusion ...... 92

CHAPTER FIVE: DATA PRESENTATION, INTERPRETATION AND ANALYSIS . 93

Introduction ...... 93

Setting the scene ...... 94

CHAPTER SIX: DATA PRESENTATION, INTERPRETATION AND ANALYSIS . 154

Into the Mugabe-Meme Data: A Thematic Exploration ...... 154

Meme 1: How the mighty have fallen! ...... 154

Meme 1b: From hero to scrap ...... 164

Meme 2: Mugabe is beyond mad and senile ...... 167

Meme 3: Mugabe is gay ...... 170

Meme 4: Bob the invincible sleepy head ...... 174

Meme 5: The return of Hitler in black ...... 180

Meme 6: The devil must burn in hell...... 184

Meme 7: Mugabe, the corrupt and deceitful thief ...... 185

Use of double-voiced discourse ...... 187

Styles of humour ...... 188

Conclusion ...... 191

CHAPTER SEVEN: CONCLUSION...... 192

REFERENCES ...... 197

APPENDICES ...... 204

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CHAPTER ONE

INTRODUCTION

Background Robert Gabriel Mugabe (b. 1921) was at the helm in Zimbabwe from 1980 until his surprise ouster in a military coup in November 2017. His 37-year rule was marked by an ever-expanding tendency for despotism at home, and remarkable intransigence globally against real or perceived Western imperialism. He was considered shrewd, visionary and enigmatic, oscillating between benevolence, hegemony and outright tyranny. While his detractors labelled him an inveterate dictator, a coterie of local praise singers saw him as a pan-African visionary and Zimbabwe’s founding father, and referred to him affectionately as Gushungo (his totemic name). Mugabe divides opinion. For instance, he is credited with provisioning Zimbabweans with universal primary education and health care. Many credit him with helping to turn Zimbabwe into a highly literate society. He also announced a policy of reconciliation to unite Zimbabwe across the racial divide, thus in a way making him a pioneer of the “rainbow nation” concept, a full 14 years before Nelson Mandela used the same approach in neighbouring . Mugabe also pragmatically balanced a loosely socialist programme of gutsaruzhinji (Shona term that translates to “satisfaction for the masses”) with capital-friendly policies. Davidow (1983) wrote an article in the influential pro-Western Foreign Policy journal, titled “Zimbabwe Is a Success”. Such a title captures the zeitgeist. Mugabe was soon knighted by the Queen of England, and Zimbabwe hosted the Commonwealth Heads of Government meeting (CHOGM). Here we see a picture of Mugabe at his pinnacle.

However, in the same period, Mugabe made sure that he unleashed the Gukurahundi massacres, and virtually turned Zimbabwe into a one-party state. His enemies were either brutally silenced, co-opted, or driven into exile. In the late 1990s, responding to a faltering economy and failed Bretton Woods funded Structural Adjustment Programme (cf. Mlambo, 1997), Mugabe paid out millions to War Veterans in gratuities, thus triggering the beginnings of an economic collapse. As the Commander in Chief he took Zimbabwe into an expensive war in the Democratic Republic of Congo (cf. Scarnecchia, 2011b), thus further collapsing national finances. By the end

1 of the 1990s he had presided over industrial collapse (cf. Carmody, 1998), food riots, labour unrest in the form of mass stayaways, brain drain, and, even more damagingly, capital flight (Brett, 2005). To shore up his power base, Mugabe initiated the Fast Track Land Reform Programme (FTLRP), a programme that is seen as either historically necessary or historically disastrous, depending on the side of the political divide one stands (cf. Moyo, 2000; Thomas, 2003). Sympathetic scholars argue that Mugabe’s hands were tied by an economy that was still colonial in structure, ensuring that land reform was inevitable (cf. Mbeki, 1980; Mazrui, 1981; Riddell, 1984; Herbst, 1989; Palmer, 1990). It is an uncontested fact, however, that the FTLRP marked the beginning of two decades of acute socio-economic crisis – a crisis which continues to this day (cf. Brett, 2005; Bond, 2000). Western sanctions followed, and Zimbabwe withdrew from the Commonwealth. Mugabe was stripped of the knighthood, which he claimed he never wanted in the first place. The rest, as the saying goes, is history. In April 1980 at Independence, President Julius Nyerere of Tanzania reportedly said to Mugabe “You have inherited a jewel in Africa. Don’t tarnish it”. Mugabe himself had reportedly stated to Ian Smith on 3 March 1980 that “You have given me the jewel of Africa” (Onslow, 2008). Zimbabwe has subsequently become a basket case. Millions of Zimbabweans flocked to neighbouring countries, and overseas, as economic and political refugees. A proud young nation on an optimistic and encouraging trajectory in the 1990s became something of a continental laughing stock. All this good, bad, and ugly took place under the helm of Mugabe, in a space of three decades in which he hung on to power.

During his 37 year reign, Mugabe was what Giorgio Agamben (1998) would call a sovereign. Although Zimbabwe is in principle a constitutional democracy, in practice Mugabe was above the law and, indeed, his word was the law. At the height of his power, Mugabe’s party ZANU-PF saw him as an infallible demi-god and “sovereign” who could not be criticised openly and publicly. A repressive and rigidly ideological state apparatus (cf. Althusser 1971) built around the Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO) and a network of ZANU-PF militia, aided and abetted by monopolistic and propagandistic state media, saw to it that most Zimbabweans never dared to criticise Mugabe openly. This study is about how, in the latter years of Mugabe’s rule, social media afforded ordinary people the means to poke holes in the Mugabe mystique and sacred aura. The study looked at examples of how this was done, mainly through

2 memes, and examined what these practices of kusvereredza (dissing) (cf. Matsilele, 2018) say about ordinary Zimbabweans’ attitudes towards Mugabe in particular, and political power in general.

The term ‘internet memes’ can be understood as “a group of digital items sharing common characteristics of content, form and stance, which are created with awareness of each other, and are circulated, imitated and transformed via the internet by many users” (Shifman, 2014: 41). The original concept of the word “meme” is traced to biologist Richard Dawkins who, in The Selfish Gene (1976), derives the term from the Greek word “mimeme” which means an imitation of something (Shifman, 2014; Siziba and Ncube, 2015; Wiggins and Bowers, 2015). Internet memes can also be referred to as socially constructed artistic expressions that convey specific ideologies within different cultures, shaping the mindsets, behaviour and actions of individuals or social groups (Mina, 2014; Kumar, 2015; Rentshler and Thrift, 2015; Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong, 2015; Wiggins and Bowers, 2015). The rise of internet memes has been regarded as an important shift (Tufekci, 2013; Mina, 2014; Bozkus, 2016) especially in non-democratic countries. This is because memes have occasionally emerged as instruments of countering propagandised and monopolistic state media (Shifman, 2014; Siziba and Ncube, 2015).

Duerringer (2016) suggests that memes can best be understood as symbolic expressions that carry hidden meanings and ideologies, and which reveal different truths from what is already present in dominant discourses. In a sense, memes can be seen to create a complex and politically fraught space for meaning-making, ideological struggle and contestation. It has been argued that the emergence of internet memes has resulted in the surfacing of carnivalesque tendencies, in which politically stifled and inhibited individuals – through humour, parody and satire – call into question, disrupt, disrespect, diss and overturn those ruling ideologies that are normatively regarded as already-made truths (Siziba and Ncube, 2015). It seems that, for memes to spread successfully, their content should be suited to their socio- cultural environment and, most of all, should contain expressive aspects of humour, satire and parody, which are important elements in communication (Shifman, 2014).

3

Mina (2014: 367) argues that the beauty and power of viral memes lies in the aspect of humour, which has always played the role of “telling difficult truths” especially in propagandised states. As we will see in this study, the virality of these memes is made possible through various social networking sites such as Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp. Shifman (2014) maintains that these social media platforms represent perfect pathways for the rapid circulation – or virality – of memes. Mills (2012) defines virality as the rapid virtual circulation of memes across networks of individuals and social groups, expanding widely with each cycle. Viral memes often change their content and form as individuals choose to create their own versions of reality to best suit their contexts.

Furthermore, memes can be repackaged through mimicry (recreation) and remixing. Mimicry, for instance, involves the reconstruction of specific texts or images by other people, whilst remixing involves the manipulation of images using computer software such as Photoshop (Shifman, 2014). Today, pretty much anyone with a smartphone can alter a picture and “photoshop” it to create a meme. The difficult part is to make a meme spread, or to get it to catch on. It is not enough to remix an image. Rather, the maker of the meme must have a degree of intuitive grasp of what will make people “enjoy” or see the worth of the depiction, so much so that they will want to share it with others in an ever-expanding circle. It is these exceptional techniques and qualities that surround memetic phenomena that this study, in part, examines. Is it a kind of art that is behind viral memes, or just luck and serendipity? Does context matter? What does Mugabe have to do with it? What modes of communication are at work in making a successful meme?

Shifman (2014) argues that the internet is flooded with memes and presents a platform for their exploration in exceptional ways. He asserts that “we live in an era driven by hyper memetic logic, in which almost every key public event sprouts a stream of memes” (Shifman, 2014: 4). Internet memes have played what seems to be a fundamental role in some of the major events of the 21st century which include the so- called Arab Spring, the Gezi Park demonstrations in Turkey, and the United States Occupy Wall Street movement, amongst others. Hence, social media memes can be used as forms of expression and public discussion and as symbols of political action and discourse (Mina, 2014; Shifman, 2014; Gerbaudo, 2015; Mboti 2016). In addition,

4 memes can also be used as symbols of persuasion (Shifman, 2014; Bozkus, 2016) as witnessed during the 2008 United States Presidential Campaign, where they were used to persuade American citizens to vote for candidates.

On platforms such as “Black Twitter”, memes constitute a form of social media-based verbal art in its own right. Such verbal art organises a specific cultural form of “aesthetic expression” specific to social media, and uses images, emojis, GIFS, video clips, and words not only to distinguish itself from ordinary speech but to make a larger point, capture a theme, or entertain. Bascom (1955: 247) argues that the “(d)istinctive features” of verbal art:

…may be the form of statement, the choice of vocabulary and idiom, the use of obsolete words, the imagery of metaphor or simile, the set number of repetitions, the formalized openings and closings, the incorporation of cultural details, conventionalized greetings, or directional orientations, and other stylistic features which are absent in ordinary conversation.

In Bascom’s view, “Verbal art differs from normal speech in the same way that music differs from noise, that dancing differs from walking, or that an African stool differs from a block of wood”. Verbal art means that one is not just speaking in order to transmit information in the way envisioned by Laswell or by Shannon and Weaver (1948) but, rather, in verbal art there is a kind of conscious and deliberate artistry and aesthetic expression at play.

Memes not only enable cultural and political identities to be communicated and negotiated, but also appear to facilitate the rise of influential voices in response to censorship (Mina, 2014; Pearce and Hajizada, 2014; Rentshler and Thrift, 2015). Social media memes have emerged as new and creative forms of expression for “netizens” throughout the world in both democratic and non-democratic environments. This is because they appear to allow individuals to freely express their political and social opinions, and to actively participate in the creation of innovative ways of communication which are difficult to censor (Mina, 2014; Shifman, 2014; Gerbaudo, 2015; Siziba and Ncube, 2015). Tufekci (2013) notes that the rise of internet memes has marked the rise of what he refers to as “online symbolic actions”. These are actions in which audiences can easily create, post or like a political meme or tweet about a political subject. Tufekci (2013) further points out that the continued

5 widespread use of these expressive symbolic online acts (internet memes) might gradually reshape people’s beliefs and the way they make sense of politics. The virality of online memes through social media has enabled individuals to convey and contest specific ideologies, standpoints and meanings, and to relate to other people who may have an investment in sharing the same views about a certain topic or famous (or infamous) figure (Gerbaudo, 2015; Wang and Wang, 2015; Bozkus, 2016).

This study was framed by the assumption that memes are grounded, at least conceptually, in the Bakhtinian concept of carnival. McLemme (1997) has argued that carnival is “a reminder that the Pope’s shit stinks too”. This is also the starting point of my study. If an apparently infallible figure such as the Pope can shit, and if his shit stinks like everyone else’s, therefore he is actually human and is fallible. He shares all the foibles of ordinary people. This conceptual opening, I believe, is all that is necessary to frame an approach to studying how ordinary people can troll and poke fun at seemingly all-powerful and untouchable figures. If they are human like us, why not? Carnival is understood to represent a set of practices that deconstruct, unmask and ridicule power in playful, satirical, parodic and indirect ways, helping to level – for fleeting moments – the hierarchies between the powerful and the powerless. In situations where there is censorship and tight control on expression, carnival becomes not only an outlet of frustration but also an important way, so to speak, to speak truth to power.

I thus sought a site where popular expression was closely watched and regulated, and found it in ’s Zimbabwe where the rise in the use of the internet and social media apps between 2015 and 2017 coincided with sharply polarised ideological struggles between the Mugabe regime and real and perceived opponents. The repressive and ideological apparatus of the state did not take lightly to ridiculing the figure of the president, and took to arresting, prosecuting and harassing those seen as demeaning the Patriarch. The burgeoning use of social media in Zimbabwe, however, presented those who sought to troll the octogenarian president with a platform that was much harder to police. We thus had in Zimbabwe a unique situation of an increasingly paranoid Presidency that policed expression set against a populace that found newer and relatively safer expressive forms of ridiculing power that were

6 not subject to easy censorship. Zimbabweans on social media thus began to use memes that punctured Mugabe’s “untouchability”, by suggesting that Mugabe was a mere mortal – that his shit stank as much as (or worse than) every Zimbabwean’s.

So, did Mugabe’s shit stink, too? Not according to Zimbabwean “criminal insult” laws and traditional state media. Section 33 of the Criminal Law (Codification and Reform) Act, which criminalises “criminal insult” and undermining the authority of the President, officially protected Mugabe’s “person”. Furthermore, insulting “the First Family” (that is, Mugabe and his wife, Grace, and their three children) had become an actual punishable statutory “crime”. For instance, former war veterans’ leader Jabulani Sibanda was arrested in 2014 and charged under Section 33 for insulting and undermining Mugabe and his wife by referring to what he called a “bedroom coup”. A newspaper report stated that police “were keen to get the former war veterans’ leader to clarify comments he made in which he appeared to accuse President Mugabe of plotting a ‘bedroom coup’, while voicing his opposition to First Lady Amai Grace Mugabe’s imminent elevation to lead the ZANU-PF Women’s League”.1 Mugabe rebuked Sibanda, saying that he was possessed by the “spirit of Beelzebub”. Pupurai Togarepi, a prominent ZANU-PF youth league leader, (then chairperson of the Zimbabwe National Liberation War Collaborators Association), blasted Sibanda for his sacrilege, stating: “Where did he see the President’s bedroom? This is an insult on the President.” The mere image of Mugabe’s bedroom, then, was sacrilege.

Any suggestions that Mugabe could be a fallible human being like all other Zimbabweans were systemically suppressed in state-controlled media and by sycophantic ZANU-PF politicians. Ridiculing Mugabe was criminalised. Typically, Mugabe was regarded as indestructible, omnipotent and unfailing, even if the evidence was that he was a doddering old man losing touch with reality under what seemed to be the increasingly manipulative control of the irascible Grace Mugabe. In one infamous instance, Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO) operatives confiscated cameras and forced journalists from the private media to delete their

1The Herald (2014-11-29). “Jabulani Sibanda arrested”, http://www.herald.co.zw/jabulani-sibanda-arrested/ , Accessed 5 June 2016.

7 pictures of an incident where Mugabe stumbled and fell at the international airport. Incidentally, this falling incident was heavily memefied and, indeed, forms a central case study in this dissertation. There were also dozens of cases where perceived ridicule of Mugabe was swiftly punished. For instance, in 2015, a senior University of Zimbabwe (UZ) official was “suspended for allegedly providing President Robert Mugabe with a small cap of knowledge” during a graduation ceremony. The Deputy registrar, Ngaatendwe Takawira, was charged with contravening section 4 (a) of Statutory Instrument 15 of 2006 allegedly for supplying the president with a cap that did not fit his head perfectly. Is there a cap that fits a head perfectly? There were dozens of cases at the courts where ordinary Zimbabweans were charged with “criminal insult” of Mugabe. For instance, Elton Mangoma, of the opposition MDC, was arrested and put in leg irons for allegedly referring to the President as “a goblin”. His case dragged on for years.

Studies by the likes of Ranger (2005), Mano (2008), Mahomva (2013), Mpofu (2014), Mboti (2010), Matsilele (2019) and Ndlovu-Gatsheni (2009; 2015), amongst others, have shown that Zimbabwe’s state-controlled media consistently promoted discourses that supported Mugabe and his ruling ZANU-PF whilst de-emphasizing and delegitimising the opposition. Mugabe was often praised on ZBC TV through songs and jingles such as “vaMugabe ndibaba wedu” (Mugabe is our Father) and “Muhofisi munaBobo, nyatsoterera unzwe kutonga” (Bob is fully in charge, listen carefully to his political domination). Despite his old age, constant dozing at public functions, erratic statements, and increasing forgetfulness, the state-owned Herald newspaper regularly and sycophantically depicted Mugabe as being fit as a fiddle and, hence, fit to rule for life. The weekly Sunday Mail newspaper, another in the sycophantic state-owned stable, often portrayed Mugabe in the “Great Man Theory” mode as a national asset, a national heritage, an everlasting fount of managerial wisdom, and a super-statesman of unparalleled perceptiveness, sharpness uncanny intelligence, inspiration, leadership and undoubted greatness.

Chibuwe (2017) observes that Mugabe was constantly referred to as “Baba (father), a revolutionary, a benefactor and a godly being” in ZANU-PF discourse. In contrast, rivals such as of the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) were depicted unflatteringly in state-controlled media as “sell-outs”, “stooges”,

8

“puppets”, “regime change agents”, “saboteurs”, and even “terrorists”. Whereas Mugabe could do no wrong, his enemies were always wrong. Essentially, there was no space in traditional state media for critiquing Mugabe or exposing his fallibility, while opposition figures were almost always shown in unfavourable light. The contrast was striking. Interestingly, strains of Mugabe’s fallibility were portrayed predominantly in privately-owned media (Siziba and Ncube, 2015). Not surprisingly, such media were also labelled “puppet media” working for “regime change”. Furthermore, ridiculing Mugabe often resulted in arrests of journalists from the private media, as the cases in 2017 of Newsday editor, Wisdom Mudzungairi, and Newsday senior reporter, Richard Chidza showed. A NewsDay reporter, Kenneth Nyangani, was arrested for writing a story alleging that Grace Mugabe, then First Lady, had donated second-hand clothes (cf. MISA Report, 2017). In one exceptional case, the vocal and “anti-Mugabe” Daily News was bombed and then shut down.

During the period under review, Zimbabwean mainstream media were largely hindered from playing their watchdog role by several pieces of legislation that have been promulgated to restrict communication and expression. These include the Public Order and Security Act (POSA), the Broadcasting Services Act (BSA), the Access to Information and Protection of Privacy Act (AIPPA) and the Criminal Law (Codification and Reform) Act (CODE), amongst other media laws. Moyo (2007) argues that after the enactment of these draconian pieces of legislation, both publicly owned (state controlled) and privately-owned media were neutralised as spaces of civic engagement and public debate. The state-owned media became lapdogs and poodles, while the watchdog private media was regularly hounded into submission. Some scholars have argued that it was in this context of the systematic muzzling of official and mainstream opposition, and due to the closure of the mediated public sphere, that citizens resorted to the use of alternative media to express divergent political views (cf. Siziba and Ncube, 2015; Matsilele, 2019). It can be plausibly argued that censorship of the media in Zimbabwe led to the proliferation of alternative online media platforms that circumvented traditional official restrictions, where citizens could freely create, share and disseminate “prohibited” content. Moyo (2007) argues that these online media platforms became informal, counter-hegemonic public spheres where political public opinion was formulated, nurtured and sustained.

9

JUSTIFICATION OF STUDY The dissident use of social media to oppose the government in Zimbabwe has increased in the last few years, beginning with Baba Jukwa on Facebook and culminating in 2015 with #ThisFlag (cf. Matsilele, 2019). Social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp can be seen as “alternative spaces of civic engagement and participation” especially in the face of a hostile Zimbabwean media environment (Moretti, 2017). Over the years, Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp have become informal “public spheres” which not only enable marginalised citizens to connect and engage socially, but also allow them to express their political views. According to Gladwell (2010:2), “with Facebook and Twitter and the like, the traditional relationship between political authority and popular will has been upended, making it easier for the powerless to collaborate, coordinate, and give voice to their concerns.” Moreover, although these platforms may be regarded as semi-public spaces, they offer anonymity, which enables powerless individuals to create and share content often prohibited from mainstream media, such as anti-Mugabe memes in this case. WhatsApp has become an increasingly popular venue for the circulation of memes due to its encryption technologies, when compared to Facebook and Twitter (Mare, 2016), which makes it difficult for one to be traced for sharing anti-Mugabe memes and counter-discourses.

Yet, while social media revolutions may be immune to the more traditional forms of repression, one cannot possibly ignore efforts by the government to curtail access to the internet (Moretti, 2017). For instance, on July 6, 2017, national “Shutdown” day, the government responded by shutting down broadband data, making it difficult for individuals without Wi-Fi connections to use WhatsApp, Facebook, Twitter or any other social media platform. Evan Mawarire, through one of his #ThisFlag videos on YouTube, had called for this national strike demanding change claiming that Zimbabweans had suffered too much in Mugabe’s hands. Several studies by Chatora (2012), Mpofu (2013), Mutsvairo (2013), Bosch (2017), Gukurume (2017), Mare (2014), and Matsilele (2019), amongst others, have shown that social media can function effectively as a dissident tool. Examples of social media-accented dissidence include the so-called Arab Spring, Anonymous, Occupy Wall Street, #FeesMustFall, #RhodesMustFall, #BlackLivesMatter, the Gezi Park Movement, and so forth. However, most of the studies on these examples tend to focus on the use of online

10 platforms for organised and “serious” political activism. Little attention has been paid to more carnival and playful uses of online platforms for the same end of opposing and speaking truth to power.

The study focuses on Mugabe as a social media meme because he was, throughout his long rule, officially protected by “criminal insult” laws, making him a perfect target for anonymous internet memes. For the duration of his 37-year rule, as noted, Mugabe seemed untouchable (cf. Torchia, 2017; Matsilele, 2019) and was virtually beyond ridicule (Siziba and Ncube, 2015). Normative national political identity formation virtually rotated around him and his ZANU-PF party, such that “Mugabe was Zimbabwe, and Zimbabwe was Mugabe”. Only those on his good side would, for instance, be declared national heroes, and so on. It is this form of already made truth that – I argue – Zimbabwean citizens sought to subvert through the creation of satirical memes which mock Mugabe. Social media somehow gradually chipped away Mugabe’s sacrosanctness in ways that traditional oppositional media and “dissidents” could not. It was now possible for people to poke fun at Mugabe and get away with it under a veil of relative anonymity. At the same time, as the study will show, the fear of Mugabe in ordinary citizens never quite died down because of this relative anonymity provided by social media. Rather, the fear co-existed with a perverse kind of entertainment in, and celebration of, Mugabe’s failings and constant trolling of his figure.

The hopeful dissident outlook provided by social media was further tempered by the reality that the Zimbabwean government had found ways to silence dissent online. For instance, Zimbabwe has the unwanted record for having made the world’s first Facebook arrest in 2011 in the case of Vikas Mavhudzi of Old Magwegwe in . Several social media users were arrested for sharing memes that made fun of Mugabe. For instance, a young boy, Gumisai Manduwa, from the Manicaland district of Odzi was arrested in 2014 for posting on his Facebook account that Mugabe had died and was being preserved in a freezer. Manduwa was charged under the usual “criminal insult” laws that prohibited “insulting” and “undermining” Mugabe. Interestingly, these laws have been largely retained and are increasingly being reinforced and used by the “new dispensation” of Emmerson Mnangagwa which deposed Mugabe. The promulgation of the Cybercrime Bill in 2017, the establishment

11 of the Ministry of Cyber Security, Threat Detection and Mitigation (later altered, in 2018, to the Ministry of Information Communication Technology and Cyber Security) and the cyber security portfolio tasked with policing social media and other cyber security threats, all suggest a trajectory towards greater (not less) clamping down of social media dissent.

Mugabe’s local and international profile, before and after his fall from power, has tended to excite controversy and debate. Stories about “Mugabe” are an important clickbait. Even the mere showing of a picture of a deposed Mugabe, sitting at his Blue Roof mansion, goes viral. Remarkably, since the beginning of the Fast Track Land Reform Programme in 2000, the figure of Mugabe has been a feature of running global commentary. That is, there seems to be something about Mugabe that tends to contribute readily to virality. It may be that Mugabe really may be one of the world’s – or at least Africa’s – so-called “Great Men”. The Great Man theory, an idea dating back to the 19th-century, explains history by the impact of so-called great men who possess influence and charisma (cf. Hook 1950; Segal 2000; Grinin 2010). Grinin (2010: 116-7) talks about a so-called Great Man in the following terms:

Owing to his personal features, or to a chance, or to his social standing, or to the peculiarity of the epoch, an individual by the very fact of his existence, by his ideas or actions (or inaction) directly or indirectly, during his lifetime or after his death may have such an influence upon his own or another society which can be recognized significant as he left a noticeable mark (positive, negative or unambiguous) in history and in the further development of society.

As this study observed, an outpouring of Mugabe memes flooded social media in Zimbabwe in the years leading to his removal from power, especially after his unanticipated physical fall in February 2015 at the airport (cf. Siziba and Ncube, 2015), but also following his political fall in November 2017. Internet users typically manipulated images of Mugabe using Photoshop and other computer editing software to troll the country’s long-serving president who was in power for almost four decades. Many “anonymous” individuals in Zimbabwe (or the Zimbabwean Diaspora) resorted to the use of satirical memes for a variety of reasons that this study attempted to study systematically. Memes give vent to different political, social and cultural ideological standpoints, depending on the purpose and context in which they

12 have been created (Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong, 2015). Siziba and Ncube (2015) point out that satirical memes represent a form of hidden power which plays a significant role in questioning and countering normative discourses.

RESEARCH OBJECTIVES The study of Mugabe memes on social media is especially salient because Mugabe himself publicly attacked social media, accusing it of fostering disrespect and decadence in society. For instance, after Evan Mawarire’s #ThisFlag protest, Mugabe was quoted on several occasions referring to social media as a tool used by cowards for promoting anarchy in the country. The bill that would regulate social media, the Computer Crime and Cyber Crime Bill, was put in place during the last years of Mugabe’s rule. The positive spin around this proposed legislation was that it would prevent citizens from using social media to promote anarchy and civil disorder.

The possibility of dissident discourses that fractured Mugabe’s “heroic” and infallible status using non-traditional and previously unexplored modes and means was deemed an interesting avenue of study considering claims that have been made that Zimbabweans are a docile citizenry that failed to speak truth to power and that did not do enough to topple Mugabe.2 This study explored a selection of memetic depictions of Mugabe that went viral on social media between 2015 and 2017 when Mugabe was toppled in a military coup, and investigated what meanings these social media users attached to them. The study mapped the different types of humour that characterised the memes and investigated why specific memes went viral. A subsidiary aim was to explore what political content, if any, the memes may have had.

The study objectives were thus to:

 Establish why particular Mugabe memes went viral on social media.  Examine the characteristics and styles of humour used in the Mugabe memes.  Establish what significance and meanings social media users attached to the Mugabe memes.

2Allafrica.com (n.d.) “Zimbabweans Are a Docile People – Mafume”, https://allafrica.com/stories/201409120098.html, Accessed 12 December 2016.

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The study had the following three research questions:

 Why did particular Mugabe memes go viral on social media?  What are the characteristics and styles of humour used in the Mugabe memes?  What significance and meanings did social media users attach to the Mugabe memes?

STRUCTURE OF THE STUDY The first chapter introduces the focal point of my study and also provides the significance and objectives of the study as well as the research questions. Chapter two, the literature review section, establishes the context of my research problem. It clarifies the significance and justification of this study by providing an understanding of what other academic researchers have studied about Mugabe and the use of social media memes in Zimbabwe and beyond. Chapter three, the theoretical framework, provides a framework for my study as I discuss and critically assess Bakhtin’s concept of Carnival, whilst explaining the applicability of the theory in light of the various Mugabe memes circulating on social media. Chapter four is the Research Methodology which outlines and explains the research approach employed in the study. The principal methods of data collection, methods of data analysis and sampling technique are discussed here. Chapter five and six are the Data Analysis and Interpretation chapters in which I present, analyse and interpret the findings of the study. They discuss what the findings mean in relation to the objectives of this research. Chapter seven, the Conclusion, is the final chapter which assesses whether the aims of this study have been achieved and which ties together any loose ends.

CONCLUSION This chapter provided a background and introduction for the study and presented the primary area that this research focused on. The introduction offers several definitions of the context of study, including a preliminary discussion of internet memes in the work of different authors. The chapter establishes various reasons that may have led to the use of memes in Zimbabwe under Mugabe’s 37-year regime, in light of the country’s ongoing political and socio-economic problems. The justification of my

14 study, together with my research objectives and questions were also presented and explained here. The next chapter presents my literature review.

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CHAPTER TWO

LITERATURE REVIEW

Introduction This chapter reviews relevant literature on the themes and topics on Mugabe, internet memes and social media dissidence. The selection of relevant literature is based on how closely the literature links to my three research questions, which are:

• Why did particular Mugabe memes go viral on social media? • What are the characteristics and styles of humour used in the Mugabe memes? • What significance and meanings did social media users attach to the Mugabe memes?

The chapter begins with a background to Mugabe’s history from the time he ascended to power, before delving into the concept of Mugabeism and how, as a virtually unchallenged sovereign (cf. Agamben, 1998), he came to monopolise Zimbabwe through ideological and repressive state apparatuses (cf. Althusser, 1971). This section on literature about Mugabe also explores the former president’s relationship to the media in Zimbabwe. The study found that Mugabe’s ideological hold on monopolistic state media and control of propaganda machinery partly explains the move by Zimbabweans towards alternative forms of expression such as social media memes. The second section considers literature on internet memes, followed by a review of literature on cartoons and other forms of humour, and their role in subverting power. The final section deals with how the cyberspace provides a platform for citizens in dictatorial environments to practice dissident behaviour.

Enter the Sovereign: Mugabe, Mugabeism and Zimbabwean media For an appreciation of the discourses that emanated from Mugabe memes on social media, it is important to explore how much power and influence Mugabe possessed. This power is the subject of studies of Mugabe and Mugabeism, a kind of cult of personality centred on the so-called strongman and the attendant “great man” politics. As already noted, the Great Man theory explains history by the impact of so-called

16 great men who possess influence and charisma (cf. Hook, 1950; Segal, 2000; Grinin, 2010). This “theory” may partly explain state ideological discourse about Mugabe. Other literature link Mugabe’s exercise of power with how the former Zimbabwean president monopolised state media, and hence monopolised national discourse centred on himself as a cult figure. There is also a need to examine Mugabe’s relationship of control with Zimbabwean media (including privately-owned media and social media). The reasons why and how individuals resorted to the use of viral memes may lie in this direction.

But, firstly, there is need to examine literature which focuses on the history of Mugabe from the time he ascended to power in 1980 through to the 1990s and the early 2000s when his dictatorial tendencies became more and more apparent and a cult of personality took root. Certainly, a cult of personality had already developed around Mugabe when he ascended to, and ruthlessly consolidated power in the early 1980s. He was represented, for instance, as someone who could do no wrong and was beyond reproach. Some of his declarations in speeches carried more weight than the constitutional provisions. A dramatic instance was illustrated in 2016 when he declared at a ZANU-PF political rally that the houses built alongside the stretch of road leading to the Robert Mugabe International Airport were an eyesore. This declaration led to the immediate demolition of the houses, superseding the provisions of existing laws governing urban land allocation and the home owners’ title deeds. Indeed, Mugabe had always been represented as some form of a demigod by sycophantic state media since he became the first Zimbabwean leader after independence in 1980 at the age of fifty-six (cf. Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2015; Siziba and Ncube, 2015; Mboti, 2010).

Mugabe was portrayed as one of the founding fathers and singular patriotic rulers and elder statesmen of Africa in the mould of Kwame Nkrumah, Sekou Toure, Muammar Gaddafi and Nelson Mandela, having played a significant role leading to the attainment of independence from British colonialism. However, the political act of taking back land from whites since 2000 led to Western-imposed sanctions and a nasty bilateral spat with Britain, but was applauded by many Africans who regarded him as continuing his role as liberator and staunch anticolonialist (Mpofu, 2014). Ndlovu-Gatsheni (2015) suggests that Mugabe was a significant African political figure who gained admiration and criticism due to his anti-colonial and pan-Africanist stance and also because of his

17 capability to present himself as a victim of neo-colonialism and neo-imperialism. Tendi (2011: 308) states that Mugabe was often represented in international media as “the independence struggle hero who seemed initially a progressive egalitarian, but gradually became toxic through his attachment to power during a long and increasingly repressive spell in office.”

In fact, Robert Mugabe’s image went through several transformations during his long political career. Mugabe’s first appearance on the world stage can be traced back to the mid-1970s when he was released from prison to represent ZANU during negotiations to end the Rhodesian war and usher in majority rule (Windrich, 2002). Before then, Mugabe was neither very famous nor very well known within his own country. He was, at this stage, outshone by the founding leader of ZANU, Rev. Ndabaningi Sithole and also by Joshua Nkomo, Mugabe’s ZAPU rival, who claimed to be “father of the nation” due to his founding political leadership role (Windrich, 2002). Others of a more military mien such as Josiah Tongogara were also supposedly more charismatic than Mugabe. However, through shrewdness and through biding his time, Mugabe gradually gained control of the guerrilla forces based in Mozambique. When Sithole became part of Smith government’s internal agreement with Bishop Abel Muzorewa, Mugabe became the ultimate leader of ZANU.

Windrich (2002) points out that, after gaining victory from such a prolonged struggle for leadership, Mugabe demonstrated what were to eventually become signal characteristics such as ruthlessness, astuteness, and resilience. He was also determined, it seemed, to end white rule without having to make any of the damaging compromises with the colonialists in the manner that Muzorewa and Sithole had done. The narrative at the time, driven by Western media in the prevailing Cold War context, was that Mugabe’s major goal was to transform “ into a socialist state” (Meredith, 1979: 202, cited in Windrich 2002; Meisenhelder, 1994). Nevertheless, Mugabe emerged with a landslide victory from the 1980 election, speaking “the words of a passionate peacemaker, filled with zeal for unity and forgiveness” (Blair, 2000 cited in Windrich, 2002: 1185). His reconciliatory approach to the colonial past, and pro-capitalist leaning – despite the calls to nationalise the productive sectors of the economy and to follow a socialist path – turned him into an unlikely darling of the West (Davidow, 1983). His position as one of the leaders of the frontline states gained him

18 a permanent status as one of Africa’s founding fathers, mentioned in the same breath as Kenneth Kaunda, Kwame Nkrumah, Julius Nyerere and OR Tambo. The provision of universal primary health care and education to the masses further cemented the perception of him as a visionary and progressive statesman (Davidow, 1983; Mandaza, 1986). Yet, despite the glow of statesmanship – which led, as noted in Chapter 1, to a knighting by the Queen of England – it seems that, from the onset, contradictions abounded ( Mbeki, 1980; Mazrui, 1981; Riddell, 1984; Herbst, 1989; Palmer, 1990; Mandaza, 1986; Bond, 2000; Brett, 2005). Not all was well in Zimbabwe’s economy or body politic. Some scholars insist that, even then, Mugabe remained a closet socialist and autocrat, and that he was always determined “to impose a (ruinous) one-party socialist state”, or at least a one party state (cf. Meisenhelder, 1994).

At any rate, Mugabe’s hunger for total dominance partly intensified ZANU’s historical clashes with ZAPU. The rest, it seems, is history: Mugabe unleashed his notorious 5th Brigade into Matabeleland and some parts of Midlands, killing approximately 20 000 civilians – a civil war termed the Gukurahundi, which only ended with the Unity Accord in December 1987, with ZAPU incorporated (or swallowed) into ZANU-PF and Nkomo becoming Mugabe’s deputy (cf. Windrich, 2002; Tendi, 2011). Interestingly, as noted, the international community seemed to have taken a liking to Mugabe “the strongman” (Davidow, 1983). As we recounted, he was given a knighthood by Britain for his efforts. This counts as a stamp of approval. Notably, the international community remained silent (or looked the other way) in particular on Gukurahundi, a “crime against humanity” suffered by the Matabeleland people (cf. Scarnecchia, 2011a). Thus, Mugabe still managed to retain a favourable international image which only changed when he unleashed his “forces of violence and repression against the white community” in the early 2000s (Scarnecchia, 2011a; Windrich, 2002: 1186). It would thus seem that the Western powers bear some responsibility for Mugabe’s excesses. They knew what he was up to, and to some extent encouraged it or, at least, looked the other way.

Mugabe “suffered his first political defeat in 20 years” in 2000 at the hands of a new political opposition party MDC and the National Constitutional Assembly (NCA), when the electorate voted “No” in the constitutional referendum crafted by ZANU-PF. A win

19 in this referendum would have strengthened Mugabe’s position which was under threat from a flagging economy and urban unrest fomented by hungry workers and trade unions. The referendum victory for the opposition marked a watershed for Mugabe, who immediately set upon a path to fast track land reform and to undercut the opposition. The MDC, led by Morgan Tsvangirai, was the country’s first credible opposition party since independence, thereby posing a serious threat to Mugabe’s hold on power and his once “unassailable” image. This turn of events since about 2000 led to a further metamorphosis of Mugabe, who now resorted to what he termed his “degrees in violence” as a weapon to retain power and overcome this emergent opposition threat (cf. Windrich, 2002). The use state media as a tool to perpetuate Mugabe’s rule and demonise his opponents entered a new, heightened stage (Mboti, 2010). Side by side with this was the imposition of draconian laws to muzzle privately- owned media which challenged his previously sacrosanct image as an all-powerful enforcer.

State media in Zimbabwe have been known to practice what Ranger (2005) refers to as “patriotic journalism” which supports and perpetuates Mugabeist and Zanuist ideologies. newspaper once portrayed Mugabe as “Africa’s most loved and famous son,” and “the greatest enemy of colonialism” and of “imperialist stooge(s)” (Mpofu, 2014). Ranger (2005) suggests that the patriotic journalism practiced in Zimbabwe is “narrowly defined and destructive” as it is used to advance ZANU-PF propaganda and legitimise Mugabe's rule in the face of a building socio-economic crisis. Ranger (2005) points out that throughout the years, Mugabe’s image has been reconstructed into that of a supernatural being whose rule should not be questioned, via ZANU-PF and state media discourses which are spread through organic intellectuals and state media. Anyone opposing the messages promoted by state media would be considered a “traitor” or “sell-out” (terms that have constantly been used to refer to the opposition, especially MDC, under Mugabe’s regime). In fact, patriotic journalism divides Zimbabweans into patriots and traitors, with patriots of course exclusively referring to ZANU-PF and Mugabe sympathisers while traitors refer to Mugabe critics. The basis was that Zimbabwe was a united country, and traitors were seeking to smuggle in foreign ideologies to break the nation apart. Mugabe, in that narrative, would be the Father of unity and the father of a united Zimbabwe. Mano (2008) argues that it is Mugabe’s and ZANU-PF’s so-called Marxist philosophy which

20 evidently fostered uncritical journalism. It is no surprise that patriotic journalism accompanied the genesis of repressive media laws aimed at silencing opposition, anti- Mugabe discourses. Such polarisation was, according to Ranger (2005), exactly what the Rhodesian government thrived on. That this kind of journalism continued to exist under Mugabe's rule, and indeed continues to exist in the post-coup dispensation, shows a persistence and a resilience of sinister hegemonic power in Zimbabwe.

Numerous draconian media laws in Zimbabwe were promulgated as instruments to censor and silence the media, to restrict freedom of expression and to entrench dictatorship under Mugabe’s regime (cf. Kwenda 2009). These include the Interception of Communications Act (ICA), Censorship and Entertainment Control Act (CECA), AIPPA, POSA and CODE, to mention a few. Interestingly, these are the same legislative relics which were used by the colonial and Rhodesian governments. The Mugabe regime simply adopted colonial media laws as weapons to tighten its grip on media. Little real attempt was made to revise or repeal most of these repressive media laws. In fact, they served a purpose. The Daily News, for instance, was banned in September 2003 (it reopened in 2010) by Mugabe’s government on the basis of these relic laws.3 Mugabe argued that the paper was a “mouthpiece” for MDC. Previously, the newspaper’s offices had been bombed twice in April 2000 and May 2001 and the editor of the paper at the time, Geoff Nyarota, was arrested on several occasions. Mbanga (2008) points out that Mugabe’s struggle against alternative media hit its highest peak with the promulgation of a “misnamed” draconian legislation AIPPA, which requires all journalists and media organisations operating within the country to get registered. In addition, Mbanga (2008) contends that Mugabe actually wanted to “kill them”, but journalists from independent media continued to use their “words as weapons” against Mugabe's authoritarian rule (despite the hazards associated with working as a Zimbabwean journalist).

Mano (2008) has examined how Mugabe and the ruling party ZANU-PF managed to dominate the Zimbabwean political arena by maintaining a strong hold on broadcasting (and other state-controlled press). ZANU-PF has maintained monopoly

3The Guardian (2003-09-14). “Mugabe Closes Down Critical Newspaper”, http://www.theguardian.com/mugabeclosesdowncriticalnewspaper, Accessed 8 December 2016.

21 in public broadcasting and other publicly owned press since independence. No private broadcaster has disrupted this monopoly. ZANU-PF, says Mano, embraced a Marxist ideology that resulted in a “narrowly defined public news sphere” which became largely exploited by a group of “comrades”, the so-called “true” patriots and national heroes who participated in the war of liberation that led to independence. Mugabe was persistently referred to as “Comrade Robert Gabriel Mugabe” by state media, whilst other politicians were only selectively referred to as comrades depending on their approval ratings with Mugabe. For instance, the late Vice president Joshua Nkomo only became referred to as “Comrade” when his party united with ZANU-PF in 1987. Interestingly, state media has now stripped Mugabe of the “Comrade” title since the coup in 2017. He is now denuded, referred to merely as Mr Mugabe. Mano (2008) has noted these contradictions around the use of the term “comrade” in state media.

Not only were state media continuously used as an instrument to promote ZANU-PF propaganda, whilst supressing anti-Mugabe and other opposition views (Ranger, 2005; Mano, 2008; Mahomva, 2013), but religion and the church were roped in as state apparatus. Men of the cloth from various religious denominations would routinely request prayers for Mugabe on national television, asking God to make him live longer and continue to rule.4 Mugabe would sometimes attend services at these churches and be shown on ZBC television wearing white “apostolic” garments (appearing as God’s humble servant), in a bid to win the support of the apostolic churches.5 In one ironic instance, during a ZANU-PF ceremony called “Super Sunday” in November 2017, a few days before the coup, Bishop Johannes Ndanga, leader of the Apostolic Christian Council of Zimbabwe, declared that “We are the ones who said President Mugabe should rule and die in office!”6 In addition, at the same ceremony, then Minister of State, Miriam Chikukwa, agreed with Ndanga’s claim, stating that “those who are opposing the President are refusing God’s instruction.”

4Bulawayo24 (2017-11-05). “Grace and Mugabe are one, imposed by God and will rule for life”, http://www.bulawayo24.com/graceandmugabeareone,imposedbyGodandwillruleforlife/, Accessed 3 March 2018. 5Nehanda Radio (2010-07-21). “Mugabe in desperate attempt to woo apostolic sect”, http://www.nehandaradio.com/mugabeindesperateattempttowooapostolicsect/, Accessed 3 March 2018. 6Bulawayo24 (2017-11-05). “Grace and Mugabe are one, imposed by God and will rule for life”, http://www.bulawayo24.com/graceandmugabeareone,imposedbyGodandwillruleforlife/, Accessed 3 March 2018.

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Siziba and Ncube (2015) point to the various long-winded titles awarded to Mugabe by ZANU-PF and state media in defining his super-heroic status, such as “Head of State and Government, his Excellency the President of Zimbabwe, the Commander in Chief of the Zimbabwe Defence Forces, Chancellor of all Zimbabwean state universities” and so forth, as evidence of the bizarre sycophancy that seemed to have infected the fourth estate. Until his fall from power in 2017, aged 93, state media continued to represent Mugabe as a perpetually youthful leader who was curiously unaffected by old age. Mugabe himself would appear on state media saying such things as, “I feel as energetic as a nine-year old boy”.7 Indeed, both the ruling party ZANU-PF and state media regarded the long-serving president as an infallible hero who was “immune from human weaknesses”, something succinctly captured in the words of former Vice President Mujuru who stated:

People are wasting their time by opposing President Mugabe. It was prophesied way back in 1934, when he was only 10 years old, that he was going to lead this country. How can a normal person challenge such a leader? They should not, however, tamper with the presidency; it is sacrosanct. These positions come from God, they do not just come! Our independence did not come by accident. (The Sunday Mail, 2013) (Siziba and Ncube 2015: 516)

That is, Mugabe was represented as a somewhat sacred and extraordinary person who ruled by divine right and could never be challenged by ordinary Zimbabweans. Any Zimbabwe who dared to challenge the sanctified figure of the president was regarded as brainless or death-wishing (cf. Mpofu, 2014; Siziba and Ncube, 2015). Mugabe was regarded as “a gift from God to Zimbabwe” by the ruling party and as a form of Messiah, a kind of Biblical Moses or “the second Son of God” (Mpofu, 2014).

Mugabe’s birthday event, titled “the 21st February Movement”, was publicly celebrated each year through galas and extravagant birthday celebrations spiced with a very expensive cake and presents. A long-winded annual interview, often given by Reuben Barwe, would be broadcast for the whole nation to listen to and watch on the occasion of the birthday. Ndlovu-Gatsheni (2009; 2015) has argued that this continuous glorification of Mugabe was based on the belief that national identity formation rotated

7Perspecsnews.com (2017-07-10). “Mugabe Indestructible”, http://www.perspecsnews.com/Mugabeindestructible?, Accessed 21 February 2018

23 around Mugabe and his ZANU-PF, or Mugabeism. Mugabeism, according to Ndlovu- Gatsheni is:

a summation of a constellation of political controversies, political behaviour, political ideas, utterances, rhetoric and actions that have crystallised around Mugabe’s political life. It is a contested phenomenon with the nationalist aligned scholars understanding it as a pan-African redemptive ideology opposed to all forms of imperialism and colonialism and dedicated to a radical redistributive project predicated on redress of colonial injustices. A neoliberal-inspired perspective sees Mugabeism as a form of racial chauvinism and authoritarianism marked by antipathy towards norms of liberal governance (Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2009: 1139)

Ndlovu-Gatsheni (2009; 2015) presents the concept of Mugabeism as a “manifestation of nationalism” and examines how Mugabe emerged as a popular and central figure in Zimbabwean politics, how he represented himself, and how others, notably state media, appropriated him as a “symbolic figure” for various reasons. Indeed, various representations of Mugabe range from “positive views” of him as a nationalist and true liberation hero, to negative views that see this kind of nationalism as responsible for socio-economic deterioration in the country (Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2015). Mararike (2018: 201) asserts that “apart from Robert Mugabe, no other African leader has taken independence beyond political freedom to the battlefield of equitable distribution of land to their own people!”

Ndlovu-Gatsheni (2015) argues that, although Mugabeism may be anticolonial in some respects, it ceases to become an actual decolonial project that aims to end colonial concepts of governance to establish a new postcolonial system. Instead, Mugabeism is characterised by excessive abuse of power, in which, as Mbembe (1992: 5) states, “The state was embodied in a single person: the President…[who] alone controlled the law and could, on his own, grant or abolish liberties - since these are, after all, malleable.” In this case, the state, which was embodied in Mugabe, was “the upholder of the law and the keeper of the truth” (Mbembe 1992: 5). Ndlovu- Gatsheni (2015) observes that Mugabe was feared and rarely challenged by most Zimbabweans. As a “demi-god” within his ruling party ZANU-PF, he was, despite his old age, elected as the party’s 2018 presidential candidate at the December 2014 party congress. Hence, Mugabeism was, rather, a postcolonial system that was marred by corruption and corrupt tendencies, greed, violation of human rights, deceit and

24 violence which was used as a weapon to punish those in opposition to the state. Mbembe (1992) points out that the ruler (commandment) in the post colony creates “signs, vocabulary and narratives” (state narratives) that contain official meanings which are non-negotiable and which no one is allowed to challenge. And, in order to ensure that no one dares to challenge these state narratives, those in power invent powerful rules and concepts which silence any form of opposition and legitimise their rule; but, when necessary, they also tend to resort to the systematic infliction of pain (Mbembe, 1992), which is exactly what unfolded under the Mugabe regime throughout his long rule.

One major element of Mugabeism is the denial of accountability for all the problems that Zimbabwe faced during Mugabe’s long tenure (Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2015). Through the implementation of such partisan, ad hoc and panicked policies as the land reform and indigenisation, and because of corruption, cronyism, mismanagement and denialism, Zimbabwe became a basket case. Zimbabwe, which was once considered as “the jewel of Africa” (Onslow, 2008) and as “the bread basket of Southern Africa”, was reduced to the status of a “beggar basket” with the country’s inflation rate rising drastically, while inflation, poverty and unemployment rates continued to increase record levels under Mugabe’s rule (Moretti, 2017). Mugabe often blamed Western imposed sanctions for all the socio-economic problems ravaging the country. As Ndlovu-Gatsheni (2015: 271) points out, “Mugabeism has become a politics of denialism of postcolonial violence.” Western opposition to Mugabe and the imposing of sanctions enabled him to intensify his self-representation as the victim of neo- colonialism and neo-imperialism. At the same time, Ndlovu-Gatsheni (2015) recognises that studies of Mugabeism are often characterised by oversimplification, as illustrated by those who tend to ignore the realities of neo-colonialism, neo- imperialism and sanctions. Mugabe is such a polarising figure precisely because he was also in some respects a benevolent despot as well as an anti-colonial crusader whose fight against Western imperialism was not a complete figment of his imagination.

And it is incorrect to lay all the blame for the economic black hole on Mugabe’s door. Part of the problem can be traced to the global capitalist system’s prescriptions. For instance, in the early 1990s Mugabe was, like other leaders in the Third World, driven

25 to adopt the Economic Structural Adjustment Program (ESAP) prescribed by the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund (IMF). ESAP promoted a free-market economy model which failed to resuscitate an already underdeveloped economy, and with the continued rise in inflation and unemployment levels, there was an increase in crime and poverty (Dashwood, 2002; Moretti, 2017). Furthermore, these SAPs failed to address issues of land inequality inherited from the colonial system, only benefiting largescale white farmers with the introduction of an agricultural export promotion policy, thereby leaving out the black majority trapped within economic hardships (Dashwood, 2002; Moretti, 2017). Mugabe’s desperate moves, such as compensating war veterans with huge sums of money, entering the costly war in the DRC to support Kabila (about US $22.5 million per month by April 2001), and then introducing policies such as the fast track land reform programme, indigenisation, and so forth, seem to have been (partly) driven by external forces. We have already noted, of course, that Mugabe’s violent excesses in the 1980s were committed with the tacit support of Western powers. That said, Mugabe’s actions did indeed worsen an economic situation that was already careering out of control. Tendi (2011) argues that Mugabe was toxic from the very beginning, as clearly illustrated by his Gukurahundi campaign in the early 1980s and over the introduction of policies that only consolidated his power throughout the years of his reign.

In relation to Mugabeism, Mahomva (2013) argues that Mugabe’s rule had become a unique brand in Zimbabwean and African politics, which includes “ruling parties” (particularly “liberation” parties) being able to stay in power seemingly indefinitely. ZANU-PF’s long-lasting political brand gained further mileage in 2008 and 2013 when the party hung on to power despite its appalling track record and despite seeming to have haemorrhaged support and even to have lost the elections (particularly in 2008). For one reason or another, predictions of an “electoral displacement” of the ruling party have not come to pass. Mahomva (2013) points out that this victory by ZANU-PF strengthened the legitimisation of Mugabeism as an unfolding trend in both Zimbabwe’s and Africa's political culture, and this triumph of Mugabeism permanently undermines the prospects of any viable opposition option. A ruling party such as ZANU-PF continues in power because, according to Mahomva (2013), it is a “power seeking” institution within the country’s political environment which is largely characterised by power struggles. Thus, Mugabeism is:

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the on-going process of monopolization of the Zimbabwean political system by President Robert Mugabe for the past decades such that he has been able to capture power under a weak opposition system. Key features of this political fashion include repression of opposition parties, possible insurrections, manipulation of the electorate, use of violence, institutionalism, propaganda, resource nationalization and convenient idealism and other key elements of amassing power. (Mahomva, 2013: 2)

In Mahomva’s (2013) view, Mugabeism is a political system founded on realism, a theory which portrays politics as the capacity to forcefully seize and hold on to power by any means necessary. The dominance of realism in Mugabeism was illustrated by the way in which state apparatuses have been used in running the country, adding up to the concept of power consolidation.

Mugabeism thus becomes a “style of power consolidation”" which involves the manipulation of ideological state apparatuses such as the media or the church and repressive state apparatuses like the police or the army (Mahomva, 2013). Such tendencies include the Zanufication or Mugabefication of the state (Melber, 2016). Former MDC Secretary General, Tendai Biti (also former Finance Minister during the Government of National Unity (GNU), has argued for the need of a concept of de- Zanufication as the only route out of the Zimbabwean mess. Mugabe and ZANU-PF, however, dismissed the notion of de-Zanufication as “a threat to peace and stability”.8 Mahomva (2013) sees Mugabeism as an embodiment of post-colonialism, in which the government acquires styles of power consolidation that are similar to those of the former British and Rhodesian colonial governments which entrenched violence and propaganda (fostered through state media). Interestingly violence and pervasive partisan propaganda has become something of a norm in African politics.

Internet memes, cartoons and other forms of humour in the service of subverting power Scholars such as Gal, Shifman and Kampf (2016) have explored the role of online memes in the creation of collective identities. Others such as Wiggins and Bowers (2015) apply the structuration theory to explore how internet memes have developed

8The Herald (2013-10-15). “MDC paper on de-Zanufication: a threat to peace and stability”, http://www.herald.co.zw/mdcpapaperonde-zanufication-athreattopeaceandstability, Accessed 8 March 2018.

27 into a genre of digital communication. Yet others, such as Goriunova (2012), Huntington (2013), Mina (2014), Pearce and Hajizada (2014), Shifman (2014), Kumar (2015), Rentshler and Thrift (2015), Bozkus (2016) and Duerringer (2016) explore the role and significance of internet memes as (humorous) political, social and cultural weapons of subversion. But, what really is a meme? How does it work? What are its key features and characteristics? Can memes really overthrow power and authority? Just how much subversive power is embedded in memes? To what extent could internet memes actually threaten or undermine the power of authoritarian governments and dictators such as Mugabe? Worth noting is a growing African literature on postcolonial humour and the use of cartoons (and internet memes) as forms of political subversion in Zimbabwe, such as Willems (2011), Musangi (2012) and Siziba and Ncube (2015), which suggests that there is some promise. Most of the memes may appear merely silly, idiotic and funny texts. Is there something more beyond the silliness? Are there important messages embedded within that silliness? At any rate, it seems that we must begin by assessing what qualities make for virality and for a successful meme. Through the help of the Bakhtinian lens of the carnivalesque, we can perhaps see how virality is linked to play, and play itself is subversive. What may appear merely silly or flippant may be part of a deeper, more meaningful expressive culture that uses silliness to avoid detection.

Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong (2015) explore the various styles and types of humour which can be applied to different types of humorous memes to make them achieve virality. Through a content analysis of one thousand memes shared on one Facebook page to test the effects that different types and styles of humour have on the virality of internet memes, and utilising the SCMR (Sender-Channel-Message- Receiver) model of communication, with theories and concepts of humour and virality as a framework to study humorous memes, Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong (2015: 292) emphasise the importance of humour for the successful virality of internet memes. They assert that “humour...is a discourse that brings two different concepts, ideas or situations together in an unexpected and amusing manner”. Basically, internet memes achieve virality when they carry the important attribute of humour and they become successful after achieving virality. Virality as a process appears to involve two integral steps which include receiving and forwarding a text; “likeability”, the first step, focuses on the extent to which a meme can be stimulating or appealing, depending

28 with the number of likes it may have (Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong, 2015). Liking a text indicates the receiver’s positive attitude towards the meme, which may prompt the individual to share with others with the hope that it could have the same effect on them – this becomes the second step, that is, shareability. Hence, the success of a Mugabe meme on Facebook or Twitter, for instance, depends on the degree of likeability and shareability; the number of likes and shares for that meme may also indicate the attitudes of receivers toward the text.

Further, Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong (2015) explore the four styles of humour – affiliative, whereby one makes jokes and says funny entertaining statements in an attempt to amuse others and build relationships; aggressive humour, which relates to one expressing humour or jokes that may harm or alienate others without concern for their feelings; self-enhancing, which involves one having a humorous perspective on life, even when facing serious hardships, this individual is often amused by absurdities or oddness; and self-defeating humour, whereby an individual amuses others by saying disparaging and humorous statements at his/her own expense. Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong (2015) point out the significance of these humour styles in understanding the process of humorous communication from the encoder’s perspective and argue that the encoder’s different humour styles may lead to different effects on the decoders of the meme. In addition to the four styles of humour, Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong (2015) identify and analyse the seven types of humour – personification (when human characteristics are attributed to plants, animals, and other objects); comparison (when two or more features are combined to create a humorous situation); sarcasm (blatant mockery or irony); pun (a joke which exploits different possible meanings of a word); surprise (humour emerging from an unexpected situation); exaggeration/hyperbole (extravagant and ridiculous overstatements) and silliness (lacking common sense or being funny in response to an absurd situation). They find that the most prevalent types of humour that are used in internet memes are sarcasm and silliness, although there are no obvious differences observed in the effects of all the humour types on virality.

Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong (2015) suggest that it is important to use the types of humour correctly to create messages, to ensure the success of humorous message communication. The limitations of this study include the fact that these

29 authors only studied memes from one Facebook page; even though the types and styles of humour can be applied to the study of memes on other platforms, the process of virality on Facebook may differ from that on other internet platforms. Moreover, certain kinds of viral humour may be quite context specific. For instance, the kinds of living conditions that affect Zimbabweans may lead to specific slang, humour and memes that may be specific to Zimbabwe. However, since one of my aims is to examine the characteristics and styles of humour used in Mugabe memes, Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong’s (2015) study enables me to identify these concepts and aptly apply them to my study.

Goriunova (2012) uses YouTube videos as case studies to explore viral videos and memes using the notion of “new media idiocy”, both as a new type of idiocy and as a kind of idiocy enacted through various social media networks. Goriunova (2012) argues that new media idiocy, which is strongly related to various kinds of humour, should be appreciated and interpreted as different from stupidity and as a mode of thinking that explores the truth through the false. He suggests that this kind of idiocy is produced and performed through expressive and “craftful” creation that establishes new forms of living, visibility, participation and subjectification; the process of subjectification (individuation, contrasted to objectification) takes place through re- enacting and practicing the performances of idiocy and by joining or taking part in the production of this kind of idiocy. Further, Goriunova (2012: 223) points out that memes and viral videos are forms of “aesthetic expression” that are created and circulated through social media, with such performances of idiocy at their core. The performance of idiocy online, particularly through the creation of memes and viral videos, allows individuals – new kinds of “idiots” with the capacity to create – to express political and cultural discontent and create subcultures that oppose dominant discourses.

Goriunova (2012) further points out that although “digital idiocy” is light, funny and humorous, it can also be very dark through the kinds of things it reveals and the behaviours it brings to light. For instance, individuals in politically repressive and authoritarian contexts such as Zimbabwe perform new media idiocy through the creation of memes which may appear light, silly and humorous, but which, in actual fact, contain a deeper commentary and expose on life and death situations in Zimbabwe. These situations include human rights abuses and degrading living

30 conditions for the majority of the populace. Thus, these seemingly silly enactments may in fact have a larger goal: to undermine, mock and insult the image of those in power (in this case, President Mugabe). In this regard, I am tempted to argue that “new media idiocy”, in the form of internet memes, can ultimately be regarded as a form of carnival, expressing the carnivalesque – a form of transgression of norms that allows the process of individuation to occur in digital media, creating new forms of participation and creative expression. Goriunova (2012), however, may not agree with this interpretation. He, for instance, argues that new media idiocy should not be regarded as a form of carnivalesque or transgression because the element of subversion itself is neither visible nor always expressible through memetic idiocy. I do agree with Goriunova that memes may not always be subversive. This is a fair point. However, those that do turn out to be subversive, such as those analysed in this study, should surely be considered as new forms of carnivalesque in the digital sphere. Why should they not be? Basically, I am convinced that since the creation of memes and viral videos contains aspects that have an unmistakably performative core, then those subversive political memes which are forms of transgression (that is, the performance of idiocy itself), are also part of that new media idiocy. Moreover, I am persuaded that the very idea that “new media idiocy is produced through craftful participation...the performance of idiocy, of everyone joining in together” (Goriunova, 2012: 231) reveals that digital idiocy can indeed be seen as a new kind of carnivalesque. This is because carnival joins people together, it is a crowd puller where, as Bakhtin (1984: 7) insists, “everyone participates because its very idea embraces all the people”.

Huntington (2013), who has employed constructionist theories to representation (particularly the semiotic approach and discursive approach) to her study of internet memes, has argued for the notion of “visual rhetoric” to be adopted as an appropriate conceptual framework for the study of memes as a form of persuasive public discourse. Huntington (2013) argues that internet memes are much more than just ordinary internet humour as they act as a form of subversive and representational response to mainstream media. In doing so, they create new meanings that are different from dominant media discourses. Thus, Mugabe memes may have been created as a subversive response to ZANU-PF propaganda spread and made ubiquitous through state media, thereby producing a different kind of truth to counter dominant Mugabe narratives. Furthermore, Huntington (2013) suggests that the

31 successful diffusion of internet memes as visual representations or symbols of resistance lies in their subversive nature and heavy intertextuality – basically a mixture of multiple references, humour and juxtaposition of images and phrases.

Huntington (2013) makes a comparison between the rhetorical approach and the semiotic and discursive theories, pointing out that researchers should seriously consider memes as a form of discourse. It is on that basis, then, that they should analyse the semiotic features in those memes, particularly in order to investigate how they operate as rhetoric. After all, rhetoric heavily relies on stylistic devices such as metaphor or allegory for purposes of persuasion. Semiotics, as it were, figures in this discussion because it involves the study of how signs or cultural objects convey meaning and which, in the process, may act as signifiers of a particular culture (Hall, 1997 cited in Huntington, 2013). Individuals create and derive meanings from texts depending on one’s socio-cultural situation or background. The dire economic state and living conditions which most Zimbabweans have had to contend with throughout the years may constitute a rich and fertile socio-economic, socio-cultural, and psychosocial template that induces them to use memes as semiotic regimes that communicate popular yet repressed attitudes of anger, distaste and annoyance with Mugabe’s regime. Certainly, I am of the view that Hall’s (1997: 44) reference to the “production of knowledge through language”, and the argument that “discourse provides the only way [to talk] about a [certain] topic at a particular historical moment”, helps to situate memes within the discursive approach and to classify memes as a kind of discourse. Discourse according to memes can be recognised as tools which help in the interpretation of a particular culture as a whole (Huntington, 2013). In the final analysis, the discursive approach involves how people produce meanings which are relevant to their cultural contexts, and how, in that process, they contest – and even wrest – power from the dominant state apparatus represented by arms of state media such as ZBC and the Zimpapers stable. Certainly, Huntington’s (2013) study provides me with a better understanding of how to analyse and interpret internet memes.

Meanwhile, Mina (2014) focuses on social change memes in China which arose as a response to internet censorship, human rights abuses and propaganda in the country. She argues that memes are a powerful tool that can be used in authoritarian

32 environments such as China [and, in our case, Zimbabwe], which are known to exert excessive control over broadcast and print media. Mina (2014) regards these memes as artistic and visual expressions that were created to counter the restrictive environment of China which is strongly marred by censorship of the media, including the internet. Hence, internet memes have been used by citizens in China (and in Zimbabwe) as a medium for escaping censorship in a hostile or repressive environment which is characterised by extreme restrictions of both online and offline channels for social and political expression. Mina (2014) emphasizes the significance of memes in a typical propagandised state which not only isolates citizens who express views that are contrary to the state, but also silences public debate that promotes diverse opinions. The strong visual language embedded in internet memes and their culture, which consists of creative remixing and fosters communal participation, provides a platform which allows new forms of public debate and community building to take place. For this reason, Mina (2014) argues that memes are compelling in the sense that they reflect a new mode of social change as they widen the visual rhetoric of dissent through the vernacular fostered by the internet.

For those individuals who live in hegemonic, heavily censored states (like, say, China and Zimbabwe) and are forced to consume propagandised state media content and texts, memes provide a liberating effect as they act as symbols of protest against authoritarian governments. The digital environment, which is characterised by low barriers to participation and expression, has made it easier for individuals to explicitly critique and challenge dominant ideologies thereby facilitating the rapid spread of memes to newer and wider communities (Mina, 2014). According to Mina (2014), memes possess “great power and beauty” and they should be understood as “a small reclamation of power contra state media,” because they challenge dominant state media discourses through remix, mockery and humour. Social change memes in dictatorial environments like China (and Zimbabwe) are a response to censorship, dehumanisation and human rights abuse as they offer “voice and visibility” to previously marginalised citizens (or netizens), giving them a sense of hope, joy, laughter and belonging. Hence, for Mina (2014) the use of memes as counter- hegemonic and countercultural weapons should be regarded as significant political actions.

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The Chinese government’s recent increased efforts to block internet jokes and memes mocking the country’s president Xi Jinping are illustrative. The government recently barred the release of a new film “Christopher Robin”, an adaptation of the famous animation “Winnie the Pooh.”9 Over the past few years, the character of “Winnie the Pooh” became a humorous weapon used by the Chinese to mock their president, in which he (Xi Jinping) was compared to the animated bear on several occasions. Hence, the Chinese government did not take such jokes of the president lightly, viewing them as “a serious effort to undermine the dignity of the presidential office…” such that steps were taken to erase those memes from the internet. Like in Mugabe’s case, a “cult of personality” has also developed around Xi Jinping, with the Chinese government making efforts to represent the president as an omnipotent, infallible and benevolent leader. Several other films including A Wrinkle in Time and websites of US television channels like HBO have been banned recently in China. Such actions by the Chinese government demonstrate the severity of authoritarian regimes and the extent to which they can go just to protect the image of their leaders. My study, like Mina’s, also focuses on the use of humorous internet memes as a means of expression and as a carnivalesque weapon against censorship, human rights abuses and propaganda by the Zimbabwean government under Mugabe.

Pearce and Hajizada (2014) provide an interesting analysis on the use of digital humour as a subversive tool against tyrannical rule in one of the most authoritarian states in the post-Soviet era, Azerbaijan. The Azerbaijan government (like the Zimbabwean government) possesses nearly absolute control of all mainstream media, especially radio and television, leaving the opposition with very few formal ways of disseminating information to Azerbaijani citizens. In addition, opposition media seem to face serious challenges. For instance, many political activists have been bogusly charged and arrested (much like in the case of Zimbabwe). Hence, Azerbaijanis (like Zimbabweans) in opposition to the government resort to humour and mockery as one of the few ways to confront, challenge and undermine the authority of the Azerbaijan regime (Pearce and Hajizada, 2014). Bernal (2013) cited in Pearce and Hajizada (2014) claims that “the power of humour under dictator­ship…lies in the fact that

9The Guardian (2018-08-07). “China Bans Winnie the Pooh film after comparison to President Xi”, http://www.theguardian.com/chinabanswinniethepoohfilmaftercomparisonstopresidentXi, Accessed 10 August 2018.

34 humour is one of the few spheres of expression that officials do not dominate.” Furthermore, the internet is more affordable and easier to access, with low production costs and a faster speed of distribution, which makes it easier for citizens to create and share humorous content and texts such as memes.

Humorous messages appear to be easier to process than serious political messages. For that reason, individuals who are less interested in political issues, especially youths and less educated citizens, can be easily attracted by a political message that contains humour. In this way, political participation and attention are increased. Memes, says Shifman (2014: 123), “bear an important meaning of democratic subversion” in nondemocratic countries like Zimbabwe and China. This is because “meme creation is an accessible, cheap and enjoyable route for voicing one’s political opinions” (Shifman, 2014: 123). Through memes, citizens are able to freely express their political opinions and engage in heated debates about certain political figures. In the context of this study, such a figure was, of course, Mugabe. Shifman (2014) notes that “politics is deeply intertwined with the creation and consumption of internet memes,” such that while political memes may be framed in a humorous way, it is important for one not to understand the seriousness behind them and the political message which they convey. Political memes may, for instance, function as tools for persuasion and political advocacy; the persuasive capability of internet memes can be demonstrated by their widespread use in election campaigns throughout the world such as the 2008 United States presidential campaign.

Pearce and Hajizada (2014) point out the various characteristics of digital humour which have proven to be a significant weapon against authoritarian governments. First, they argue that humour embarrasses, ridicules, delegitimises and insults the image and honour of those in power. The image of a ruling government and that of the First Family are the most important in a regime, hence humour plays a powerful role in humiliating, embarrassing and insulting those in authority; it is not very easy to clamp down humorous messages that taint the honour and image of those in power (Pearce and Hajizada, 2014). Furthermore, the viral nature of humorous content through social media means that the government is less able to control it and therefore has more potential to reach a wider audience than other forms of political protest. Finally, the original creators of transgressive humorous content or memes are likely to remain

35 anonymous, which allows one to experience a form of freedom of expression without having to face serious consequences, (Pearce and Hajizada, 2014).

Interestingly, Pearce and Hajizada (2014) have noted that the Azerbaijani regime has itself resorted to the use of digital humour, particularly memes, as a means to counter- attack and troll (back at) the opposition and maintain its hegemony. Although humorous memes may not always be created for malicious reasons, individuals who support the Azerbaijani government, or are sponsored by it, design internet memes with the intention of striking back at those in opposition to the regime. This form of striking back and trolling back by the state has the aim of affirming the regime’s dominant position and reinforcing oppressive ideologies (Pearce and Hajizada, 2014). Moreover, like Zimbabwe, Azerbaijan is said to be infamous for being one of the first few countries to charge and arrest political activists using internet humour. Hence, although the internet may be regarded as a platform for free expression, it can be argued that “online dissent, even of a humorous nature,” also results in serious offline consequences that violate citizens’ right to freedom of expression (Pearce and Hajizada, 2014).

Shifman (2014) presents a comprehensive exploration of internet memes and their characteristics. For instance, he says that the term “hyper” not only refers to the viral and global nature of memes but also denotes how memes have emerged as “a new vernacular that permeates many spheres of digital and non-digital expression.” In other words, memes can be viewed as a “secondary layer of language” in the sense that they “constitute shared spheres of cultural knowledge”, thereby allowing individuals to convey intricate ideas through the creation of images, symbols or short phrases (Shifman, 2014). Shifman (2014: 4) argues that “we live in an era of hyper memetic logic in which almost every major public event sprouts a stream of memes.” In Zimbabwe for instance, when Mugabe fell at the airport in 2015, it became a trending and infamous incident globally, generating a spontaneous flood of memes across the internet. All of the memes I have seen mocked the president and had fun at his expense. Shifman (2014) points out, however, that that only a few studies have examined the politics that constitute the creation and transmission of memes. For instance, the use of memetic language seems to require individuals to familiarise themselves with the standards of the subculture which they intend to be part of, to

36 enable the successful creation, communication and virality of memetic symbols. Hence, as Shifman (2014) suggests, memes should be considered as essential “building blocks of digital culture” which reveal the attitudes, aims and behaviour of the culture that creates them.

Memes also function as “grassroots connective action”, in which they empower citizens by allowing them to participate in public and communal actions such as Occupy Wall Street (OWS) – a protest movement which coalesced around the systematic critique of the social and economic inequalities prevalent in the US. Although to a much smaller extent, the OWS may be likened to the #Tajamuka protest movements that sprouted throughout Zimbabwe from about 2015, which sought to foment resistance to the political, social and economic malaise that characterised the Mugabe regime in the period under review. In this regard, one can argue that citizens tend to use popular culture in memes to share meanings and reach common ground in discussing and mobilising countercultural and counterhegemonic politics, as is currently happening with the “Yellow Vests” protests in Paris, France. Popular culture, which is part of the everyday lives of people, allows citizens to communicate about politics in playful, satirical and engaging ways, which makes the subject more approachable (Shifman, (2014).

Shifman (2014), however, warns that the use of popular culture images in political memes may result in “depoliticization”, whereby the political and critical elements of memes might be overlooked, with more focus on playful amusement instead. Furthermore, Shifman (2014) argues that, although memes can and do function as forms of democratic subversion, in which citizens overturn an established system, and memetic actions have the ability to empower citizens to freely articulate their political opinions in playful and innovative ways, one can question the extent to which these memes can actually influence political and social change as it remains unclear. The degree to which social media memes can dent the status-quo in order to generate political and economic transformation has remained imprecise. For instance, while OWS may have been a memetic success, the protest movement failed to generate the socio-economic change which the citizens advocated for. In the Zimbabwean case, even after the #Tajamuka protests, no clear transformation was evident, as citizens

37 still remain plagued by the same old socio-economic and political problems. It is as if nothing has happened.

In his definition of “internet meme”, Shifman traces it from the origins of the meme concept to its development into the contemporary digital world over time. He observes that, since its coining by a biologist, Richard Dawkins, the notion of meme has been widely used in other disciplines like psychology, anthropology, philosophy, linguistics and folklore. However, until the twenty first century, it was largely overlooked by researchers in the communication field. This gap, or low uptake, in the communication field is one reason, for instance, why my study seeks to investigate memes from a communication-based perspective. For Shifman (2014), meaningfully integrating the concept into academia and industry requires resolving several misconceptions about the term. Such misconceptions, in his view, include the exact definition of the term “meme” and competing terms like “viral” which are often used interchangeably with “meme”. A viral object can best be understood as an image or video that spreads rapidly across various social media platforms in a virus-like manner. However, a viral image or video only becomes a meme when it is remixed, reiterated and decorated with a text or a short phrase (Shifman, 2014). For instance, a pure image of Mugabe falling is only a viral which is developed into a meme through mimicry and remixing to produce a different meaning that deviates from the original meaning of the viral. Shifman (2014) goes on to argue that social media sites such as Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp have become ideal paths for the “perfect” diffusion of viral memes.

Wiggins and Bowers (2015) employ Anthony Giddens’ theory of structuration to the analysis of internet memes, a concept which, as the authors suggest, has since developed into a kind of “genre”. The authors introduce three categories of internet memes that describe their transformation and development as a genre; spreadable media (original, non-parodied texts), which develop into emergent memes (modified or remixed spreadable media) and memes (which then develop from emergent memes). Spreadable media would be the original unaltered picture of Mugabe (maybe sleeping at a UN conference or falling at the airport), which then goes viral as it spreads rapidly from one social media platform to another. As various internet users access this viral picture, it is altered and parodied using software such as Photoshop and gains wider popularity as it continues to circulate virally within the digital

38 environment. When the emergent meme is further iterated, remixed and rapidly circulated through various online platforms, it then becomes a meme. Wiggins and Bowers (2015) argue that internet memes can be described as genres of digital communication and as “artifacts of participatory digital culture,” which are characterised by an “agency” of pro-nsumption (production and consumption). Members of a [digital] culture participate in remixing and replicating messages, which they circulate rapidly in an attempt to share their ideas and continue with conversations.

Wiggins and Bowers (2015) explain why memes should be regarded as “artifacts of participatory digital culture”. Firstly, memes possess what they call "virtual physicality", which describes how memes exist both in the human psyche and within the digital environment. Secondly, the social and cultural role of memes within the digital environment is of significance. Memes reconstruct the social system as individuals apply rules and norms (structures) of meme construction in reproducing further remixes of a certain meme. In addition, memes can also reveal the culture and social behaviour of the individuals who produce and reproduce them as well as their reasons for producing those memes. Finally, viewing memes as artifacts highlights the significance of pro-nsumption, in which individuals not only consume, but also participate in the creation and sharing of these memes within the digital culture. Moreover, Wiggins and Bowers (2015) point out that the above reasons emphasize the relationship between structure (social system) and agency. They suggest that most studies on internet memes lack a valid conceptual framework, and hence the structuration theory serves as a theoretical framework that enables one to analyse how memes are used in various cultures within differing socio-political contexts and how digital communities develop and legitimise genre modes for memes, as well as to examine the major forces that shape the memetic genre (Wiggins and Bowers, 2015). I, on the other hand, use the concept of carnival as my theoretical framework to enable a better understanding of how internet memes are used in a dictatorial and postcolonial context as well as to identify the limitations of humour and laughter as forms of transgression.

Kumar (2015), who has explored the viral nature of memes, videos and websites which employ styles of parody and satire, as a newly emergent discourse of socio-political

39 and cultural critique on the Indian digital space, argues that spreadable memes, viral videos and parodic websites are a form of “subversive speech” that is characterised by repetition as well as viral replication and juxtaposition of content, satire and parody, which allows new media users to create new forms of grammar meaning that critique and transcend dominant narratives. Although this kind of digital “subversive speech” created by the oppressed and marginalised cannot physically replace radical politics, says Kumar, it may be a step towards dismantling the forces of power. The logic of virality, it can be said, creates new modes of reason and alternative arguments within the public sphere. Kumar (2015) suggests that a memetic culture, which comprises “infectious” viral memes, brings together and globalises threads of ideas, culture and dialogues that might have otherwise been repressed.

Indeed, subversive political memes (in the form of twitter hashtags#, viral videos, photoshopped images and texts) have assisted in enabling mobilisation and coordination during social movements and during periods of repressive constraints on the media. The #ThisFlag campaign, for instance, spread rapidly throughout the urban parts of Zimbabwe, mobilising thousands of citizens in support of dissident pastor, Evan Mawarire. When Mawarire was arrested and charged with treason, many human rights lawyers offered to represent him and hundreds of his supporters, wrapped in the Zimbabwean flag, assembled outside court to express their support for him (Moretti, 2017). In India (as in Zimbabwe), creators of digital subversive texts operate within a restrictive environment characterised by press censorship and strict media laws, resulting in citizens resorting to use of parody and satire to introduce divergent and dissent views that subvert dominant state narratives.

Rentshler and Thrift (2015) analyse internet memes from a feminist perspective, examining how memes provide a networked platform for feminist critique and resistance to masculinity, mobilising a kind of humour or laughter that drives contemporary feminisms (what they call “doing feminism in the network”). Using the case of the “Binders Full of Women” meme, the authors suggest that feminist memes construct digital spaces for raising awareness and for community building. Rentshler and Thrift (2015) argue that the internet plays a significant role in facilitating the spread of feminist jokes, and illustrate how social media platforms like Facebook, Tumblr and Amazon provide networking or distribution capacities that establish new forms of

40 feminist critique and modes of political agency for exercising feminism through the production and propagation of memes. Individuals use these online platforms to create and utilise their capacity to respond or criticise sexist statements and misogynistic performances in the political sphere and in popular culture, helping to build larger networked feminist publics in which others can participate by adding mock reviews and tweeting statements that support the feminist cause.

In the case of Zimbabwe, feminists have occasionally created and shared internet memes as a response to sexist statements by male politicians including Mugabe himself. Indeed, Mugabe has, in the past, been dismissed as a sexist and chauvinist patriarch. In one instance, he declared that women would never be equal to men “if the man continues to pay bride price”.10. This was seen as reflecting the president’s misogyny and his poor record in promoting gender equality. Shifman (2014: 86) states that “bad texts make good memes in contemporary participatory culture” which suggests that memes are a result of the artistic creation, combination and remixing of what Berlant (1997: 12) refers to as “the waste materials of everyday communication” (Rentshler and Thrift, 2015). Hence, meaningful cultural and political expressions are created from these “bad texts” to counter and critique misogynists and dictators through humour, satire, trolling and mockery. Feminist memes, say Rentshler and Thrift (2015), produce shared feelings (and fun), whilst providing a sense of belonging and offering popular political education, especially concerning gender politics.

Bozkus (2016), who has studied the significant role played by internet memes in facilitating the Gezi Park demonstrations in Turkey in May 2013, conceptualises the use of internet memes by “digital inhabitants” in terms of Bourdieu's concept of social capital. As social capital involves the norms and networks within a social organisation, this enables the gathering of various social groups within that community; likewise, internet memes bring together groups of common interest or subcultures within the web community, strengthening ties within those groups and ultimately leading to collective political action (Bozkus, 2016). During the Gezi protests, the Turkish government silenced mainstream media and as a result, the Gezi youth resorted to

10Zimbabwe Today (2014-12-04). “President Mugabe’s sexist remarks create storm”, http://www.zimbabwe- today.com/PresidentMugabe’ssexistremarkscreatestorm, Accessed 15 March 2018.

41 the use of social media memes which became the centre of mass communication at the time. Bozkus’ (2016) major aim in his study was to explore populism (supporting the concerns of the masses/ordinary people) and polyvocal discourses (multiple voices expressing a range of divergent perspectives) that were popularised and expressed through internet memes of the Gezi Park movement. He concludes that internet memes should not be considered as just simple images; rather they should be regarded as visual “anonymous, creative and collective phrases” that reflect political messages of the opposition against the government.

Bozkus (2016) suggests that the internet is a public sphere where subcultures are created by youths that are normally marginalised from mainstream culture and politics. However, to what extent can the internet actually be viewed as a public sphere in this manner? In an examination of youth activism via Twitter using the #RhodesMustFall (#RMF) student led campaign in South Africa, Bosch (2017) concluded that, despite limited internet access, Twitter became the central platform for youth participation during the #RhodesMustFall campaign, setting the mainstream news agenda and shaping public debate. Bosch (2017) suggests that if social media platforms have the ability to set the mainstream news agenda, then they should not be seen as distinct from the traditional media platforms; for instance, the #RMF facilitated debates and created networked publics in both the cyber space, real-world spheres like university workshops and the mainstream public sphere (including print and broadcast media). Furthermore, Bosch (2017) argues that the youths are progressively using social media to create a new profile of citizenship characterised by customised forms of activism. In this case, Twitter offers the youths a chance to participate in political debates and debates on the broader socio-political and economic issues in the contemporary society, which reflects some kind of sub-activism.

It is important to explore the increasing use, particularly by youths and the poor, of social media sites like Twitter in African countries as central platforms for resistance against exclusion or marginalisation and repression. #RhodesMustFall was a protest to remove the statue of the British Colonialist Cecil Rhodes at the University of Cape Town main campus, as it was argued that the statue promoted racism and a culture of exclusion, especially for black students. Bozkus (2016) argues that internet subcultures, especially the younger generation, use internet memes as a form of public

42 discourse to criticise the socio-political predicament within their country. It can be argued that public discourse on the digital space is often related to a country's socio- political and economic situation. (Bozkus (2016). Zimbabwe's economy, for instance, continued to deteriorate under Mugabe's corrupt regime and the country's socio- political situation worsened, with unemployment rates and poverty increasing. Moreover, the political atmosphere became tenser with increased violence and repression against individuals and journalists linked with the opposition. Hence, could this explain the creation of subcultures within the digital space, comprising citizens who were so fed up with Mugabe’s government that they began to use memes as ways to let out their frustration?

Bozkus (2016) points out that memes can be regarded as what Bym and Shah (2011) call “political acts” or “performance of citizenship,” which brings out their uniqueness in pushing for social or political change. This study (Bozkus 2016) reflects my own which focuses on the use of internet memes as expressive “populist” and “polyvocal” tools to mock the president’s (Mugabe’s) authority and the corrupt socio-political system in Zimbabwe. I broadly concur with Bozkus (2016) in arguing that internet memes show how youths and subcultures use the “virtual public space” to reflect and discuss their discursive political views, feelings and attitudes, especially considering how youths are not given ample space within the mainstream public sphere.

Papacharissi (2009) sounds a note of caution when she makes the observation that only a few individuals who are able to access the internet are the ones who enjoy its benefits as a public space; hence, the idea of the internet being an “open public sphere” remains an illusion. In addition, Papacharissi (2009) suggests that online political discussions are somewhat “too specific” to achieve Habermas’ notion of an ideal public sphere, in the sense that online communication usually takes place between individuals who already know each other offline. On the other hand, I argue that with the growing popularity of mobile phones and social media especially amongst youths globally, information spreads rapidly in a viral nature within a short space of time, such that Mugabe’s viral meme for instance, created in Zimbabwe, may reach another individual in the United States unknown to the original sender or creator of the meme.

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Duerringer (2016), who focuses on the cultural significance of internet memes, offers a critical analysis of a popular meme, “Republican Jesus”, that mocks, undermines and critiques contemporary American conservatism. The intention is to expose the rhetorical potential embedded in such content. Duerringer (2016) argues that the Republican Jesus meme creates a newer platform for ideological struggle while also pointing out that the meme works to broaden spaces of dissent in the “hegemonic articulation of Christianity with other conservative ideologies” such as neoliberalism, neo-conservatism, militarism and capitalism. Likewise, one can argue that the creation and circulation of Mugabe memes indicates how computer technologies and the internet have widened the platform for dissent behaviour in the “hegemonic articulation” of Mugabeism and other ruling/ ZANU-PF ideologies. Furthermore, Duerringer (2016) suggests that internet memes can be described as some form of “vernacular rhetoric” which functions not only to build political consciousness, but also to interpellate individuals. Vernacular, in this case, is the kind of speech that originates from the oppressed communities or margins of society; it is labelled as the unofficial discourse or discourse of the “other” or rather, a form of bottom-up expression (cf. Shifman 2014).

Indeed, subversive political memes can be regarded as forms of unofficial speech that are created to challenge officialdom and to counter already made truths, allowing ordinary and marginalised citizens to easily communicate their usually suppressed views. Yet, it is important to note that this vernacular discourse exists in “dialectic” with the dominant official discourses, a form of “hybrid status” which memes adopt, first because memes are produced and transmitted via social media networks that are owned, controlled and funded by multinational corporations (members of the elite culture). Secondly, vernacular speech exists only because those in power allow it to, as Howard (2010: 251) cited in Duerringer (2016) asserts:

Even as it [vernacular] expresses its alterity, it acknowledges the priority of its masters: the institutional forms that allow its voice to be heard as alternate…As a result, it is never completely separate from institutions. Instead, the institutional authorizes the vernacular in the sense that all vernacularity relies on the institutional to create the grounds on which the vernacular can enact its distinction. Howard (2010: 251)

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Mostly, marginalised individuals operate within and rely on the established framework of those in power to authorise their speech. In Zimbabwe for instance, we have witnessed the arrest and torture of bloggers who challenge officialdom, and at the same time, the government has made efforts to introduce laws to monitor and regulate social media content.

The use and significance of internet memes in the creation of “collective identity” (Gal, Shifman and Kampf, 2016), appears to illustrate that given a platform free of formal gatekeeping, participants can express themselves freely and create forms of potential subversion through digital media. Gal, Shifman and Kampf (2016) conceptualise memes as “performative acts”. These can be employed, for instance, for purposes of persuasion, to prevent the suicide of gay teens and for the creation of “collective identity” and negotiation of the LGBTQ (vernacular /unofficial) norms. In Zimbabwe, the LGBTQ community and other opposition narratives were largely excluded from the dominant public sphere (state media), hence digital media enabled such groups to “gather in alternative public spheres, creating narratives that deviate from the dominant hegemonic line.” President Mugabe, on several occasions, clearly and publicly expressed his hatred and disgust for homosexuality, declaring that he would never allow gays to behave “worse than dogs and pigs” as homosexuality “degrades human dignity,” and moreover, it is not only unnatural but also un-African11. Gal et al (2016) treat the meme concept as a methodological tool which enables one to determine the narratives, conventions and behaviours that were embraced and legitimised during the anti-homophobic bullying campaign. At the same time, the participation structures of memetic LGBTQ campaigns such as the “It Gets Better” still lack certain marginal populations (specific ages or ethnic groups). This lack of variation in memetic components shows that the gathering of a marginalised population in the alternative public sphere results in the “unintended act of passive exclusion of its own periphery". Gal, Shifman and Kampf's (2016) study offers future researchers an opportunity to examine the degree of variability associated with internet memes, adding significant dimensions to the understanding of the relationship between technology, power and agency in the 21st century.

11Reuters (2017-09-04). “Worse than dogs and pigs: life as a gay man in Zimbabwe”, http://www.reuters.com/worsethandogsandpigs:lifeasagaymaninzimbabwe, Accessed 6 April 2018.

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Willems (2011), writing on the case of the Zimbabwean comic strip Chikwama (an ordinary Zimbabwean citizen who struggles with economic and political crises around him) that was published in The Daily News in the early 2000s, argues that postcolonial humour cannot be treated as a form of resistance at all times and does not always ridicule those in authority. Rather, humour adopts a “self-reflective” form in which the powerless “ordinary” citizens mimic and ridicule their own powerlessness in order to make themselves cope with the political and economic struggles or crises affecting them on a daily basis. Likewise, one may argue that Mugabe memes on the internet could have been created by citizens in an attempt to cope with their everyday struggles and with the anger they had towards the dictatorial president and his corrupt government. Willems (2011) argues that in the Zimbabwean case, although comic strips and cartoons act as forms of political resistance whilst also creating alternative spaces for divergent views, one should question the extent to which they fulfil their subtle, implicit subversive role (hidden scripts) against those in power, given the medium in which they are published, and the range of restrictions imposed by the government on press freedom.

Willems (2011) points out that while African studies by Mbembe (2001), Eko (2007) and Nyamnjoh (2009) on comic strips and political cartoons reflect the various debates on the place of humour and laughter in relation to power and forms of resistance in postcolonial states, her study is a contribution to the works of scholars who have focused on the “self-reflective nature of humour and laughter” in post-colonial Africa. Willems’ (2011) article establishes a base for my study of the role of post-colonial humour in Zimbabwe and how the concept has been used as a form of political resistance against those in power. However, while Willems (2011) focuses on cartoons and comic strips in the newspaper, a more traditional type of mass media that is largely haunted by restrictive press laws, my study focuses on the internet, an increasingly popular medium, which allows more citizens to participate in the production and sharing of humorous texts. Unlike internet memes, which can be remixed, altered and imitated further by different individuals to produce several varied meanings, newspaper cartoons do not offer audiences that kind of opportunity to alter, remix and share with one another or to produce different meanings altogether. Rather, the intended meaning of the author remains fixed as only one or two cartoonists would

46 have produced the cartoon. Thus, I argue that newspapers do not possess the ubiquitous nature and flexibility provided by the internet.

Contrary to Willems’ (2011) study on newspaper humour, Musangi (2012) examines the prominence of internet humour amid the Zimbabwean political and economic crisis. Musangi (2012) points out that comic strips and cartoons certainly cannot be regarded as forms of e-humour because they are not digitalised and were rather the primary focus of academic attention way before the emergence of the internet. In addition to being less ubiquitous and less flexible as I have already pointed out, comic strips and cartoons seem to lack the sense of “emotional agency” possessed by the various forms of e-humour, including internet memes. Musangi (2012) draws her examples primarily from the website www.bob.co.za, which presents itself as an allegorical personal website of Zimbabwe's former president Robert Mugabe. Through the website, Musangi (2012) analyses the various ways in which internet humour (e- humour as she calls it) has been used by citizens to express meaningful commentary, discontent and anger over the current struggle faced by Zimbabweans, through a reconstruction of Mugabe's image. The website appears to be a “mock arena” which offers counter-narratives that recreate Mugabe’s character and presents a digital manipulation or distortion of his body; hence Musangi (2012) argues that digital humour can be understood as a “form of subversion”, particularly in authoritarian contexts, through a digital distortion of the “symbolic embodiment of power” (former president Mugabe in this case). The site impersonates Mugabe and presents consistent narratives on what seems to be a commentary on “heterosexual masculinities and their transgressions”.

Interestingly, Musangi (2012) notes that the website is currently no longer in existence. It was pulled down after she did her research. What is even more interesting here, however, (also in context with my study) is how Musangi (2012) examines the limitations of digital humour as she points out that forms of humour are allowed to exist just as long as they do not incite actual action, meaning that the grotesque elements of humour are often regarded as criminal and "anti-social" if performed in reality - all the subversive forces disappear into thin air like wind. Echoing Musangi’s view on the limits of humour as a form of dissent is Mbembe (2001) who argues that mimicking or mocking the dictator and representing him as an “ordinary” person does not make him

47 lose his power. Cartooning the dictator actually makes him more visible and instead reproduces his power instead of undermining that power and humiliating his image. In fact, cartooning the autocrat:

…rather intensifies [his] presence by enclosing the subject in a mixture of fascination and dread…to the extent that it is the autocrat who offers speech, commands what is listened to and what is written and fills space to the point where he is still being talked of even as the act of creation is claiming to debase him. (Mbembe, 2001: 160)

Hence, one can note the limited potential of both traditional and digital forms of humour in overthrowing autocracy. However, Musangi (2012) points out that although this may be the case, one should never underestimate the “subversive potential” of humour because if it really could not threaten those in power, there would be no need for the government to come up with regulations to silence humorous political content both online and offline.

Meanwhile, Siziba and Ncube (2015) explore how satirical memes act as silent forms of resistance in the hostile Zimbabwean environment where Mugabe has been portrayed as a form of a “god” by state media and other narratives that sympathise with Mugabe's rule. Siziba and Ncube (2015) analyse Mugabe memes that went viral on the internet after the dramatic falling of the former Zimbabwean president at the airport in February 2015. They contend that these viral memes resulted in the surfacing of rival discourses that fractured the various myths surrounding the indestructibility and invincibility of Mugabe in the Zimbabwean political discourse. Furthermore, Siziba and Ncube (2015) argue that these memes can be identified as significant humorous forms of challenging, rewriting and revealing different truths about Zimbabwe and deconstructing myths surrounding the exaggeration of Mugabe's power. Siziba and Ncube (2015) analyse these Mugabe memes using Mbembe’s theories of sovereign power (1992), Scott’s weapons of the weak thesis (1985) and Goffman’s dramaturgical model (1959); Like Siziba and Ncube (2015), I analyse Mugabe memes that went viral on various internet platforms (particularly Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp between 2015 and 2017.) However, I apply a different conceptual framework (Bakhtin's concept of carnival) from the ones used by Siziba and Ncube (2015) in their study, to analyse those memes.

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Nonetheless, Siziba and Ncube (2015) suggest that Mugabe’s fall signified the downfall of a sacred person who had come to be considered as some sort of a “Messiah” or “immortal god” by his ZANU-PF sympathisers. What is more interesting is how state media and ZANU-PF officials, such as former Minister of Information and Media and Broadcasting Services, , denied that Mugabe’s fall really happened, arguing that “the President did not actually fall” but “what happened is that the President tripped over a hump on the carpet on the steps of the dais as he was stepping down from the platform…[and] he remarkably managed to break the fall…”12 Moyo’s statement clearly indicates the extent to which state media and Mugabe’s people would go to actually protect the figure and image of their “infallible” president (Siziba and Ncube, 2015). Hence, the flood of memes that emerged from Mugabe’s fall that “was not a fall” was more of a response to the “re-invented truth” and misrepresentation of reality fostered by state media. Moreover, Siziba and Ncube (2015) argue that memes are weapons which are used by the weaker marginalised groups in society to fight state media’s “transcendental truth” about Mugabe, and to express hurt, anger, hate and frustration toward the president and his tyrannical tendencies.

On the other hand, drawing on Mbembe’s (1992: 5) assertion that “the acts of the dominated do not necessarily lead to resistance, accommodation, ‘disengagement,’ the refusal to be captured, or to an antagonism between public facts and those sous maquis [of the underground],” Siziba and Ncube (2015) argue that the same individuals who ridicule those in power and practice dissident behaviour through the creation of subversive memes, also long to dine with the elites and to become “part of the glamour that is associated with politicians.” Moreover, Siziba and Ncube (2015:521) point out that “people generally know when it is safe to laugh at power or challenge it” as they argue that laughter and insults normally occur from a safe distance, which renders the space for laughter as “unofficial”. However, for Siziba and Ncube (2015), it is still important to consider the “unofficial” space for laughter as an alternative space for the articulation of dissent behaviour.

12The Herald (2015-02-04). “President in carpet mishap”, https://www.herald.co.zw/president-in-carpet- mishap/ Accessed 10 December 2016.

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Kien (2013), while acknowledging the fact that memes empower consumers of media texts to select and manipulate content, thereby freeing them from the yoke of mainstream media by creating a “third media space”, argues that this brings along a major problem whereby individuals are no longer challenged with brand new ideas but, rather ,focus on consuming remixed and manipulated content, which although creative, is sarcastic and ironic as if all media texts are merely meant to entertain people without any real world consequences attached to the content. An internet meme according to Kien (2013), can be understood from Baudrillard’s (1995) notion of simulacra, which is created when a signifier is detached from its original meaning, hence leaving the signifier to hang around freely, to be reconnected to anything that the consumer decides to use for it, whether it is real or just an imagined myth or fantasy. For Kien (2013), under these circumstances, cleverness may displace intelligence in the sense that individuals are capable of transforming media texts from one intended meaning to the other through “postmodern playfulness” and as a result, memes present little or, in some cases, no challenge to the attitudes and ideologies of the very people (the ruling class) whom they are intended to confront. On the other hand, it is important to acknowledge how memes allow each prosumer to act like an “opinion leader”, expressing his or her own reinterpretation of media content in a non- linear manner, which makes them unique (Kien, 2013). However, this uniqueness of memes makes it difficult to determine when or for how long a certain meme would be effective. Nonetheless, despite their flaws and limitations, the various remarkable attributes of internet memes remain important.

Social media and the Internet as digital spaces for political dissidence Social media can be defined as “as an alternative means of mass communication that make use of new information and communication technologies, such as the internet and mobile phones, to create, store and distribute multi-media messages” (Mhiripiri and Mutsvairo, 2013: 415; Mboti, 2016). The popularity of social media increased with the emergence of social networking sites such as MySpace, Facebook, YouTube, LinkedIn and so forth, at the beginning of the 21st century, and one can argue that this brought about positive changes in communication patterns whilst greatly enhancing interaction between individuals and communities with shared interest in various matters, be it politics, entertainment, education or friendship (Mhiripiri and Mutsvairo, 2013). Hence, social media facilitated the creation of online cultures and communities,

50 where individuals with mutual interests interconnect with one another to share ideas and express diverse opinions (Chatora, 2012).

A burgeoning field of studies traces how social media platforms such as Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, blogs, and mobile phones have played a major role in facilitating actual political participation through protests against increasing government corruption, increasing levels of poverty and unemployment, and so forth (cf. Chatora, 2012). The well-known “Arab Spring”, a reference to popular citizen-led protests that took place in North Africa (mostly Tunisia and Egypt), was largely driven by social media, especially Facebook and Twitter, and therefore presented the significant role and potential of social media networks in enhancing political expression. Chatora (2012) argues that, drawing on these events in North Africa, and with the increasing popularity of social media sites and mobile phones amongst African citizens, social media holds the potential to drive active citizen anti-government protests that may bring about the much-needed political change in Africa, something like an “African Spring”.

It can be argued that social media constitute a kind of “new” power that influences political change and democratises participation, as illustrated in several notable events such as the Arab Spring, Occupy Wall Street, 2008 US elections and so forth (Chatora, 2012). The success of President Obama’s 2008 election campaign, for instance, was partially attributed to the use of social media, particularly Facebook and YouTube. As Harfoush (2009) asserts, “the internet and an extraordinary social movement enabled Obama to come to power” which demonstrates the power of social media in influencing political actions. It is important to trace how Zimbabweans and citizens from other African or western countries have used social media as a tool to organise democratic participation and strategize anti-government protests, as my study is based on how citizens use social media memes to contest, mock, challenge, disrupt and undermine Mugabe’s autocratic rule.

On the other hand, as Chatora (2012) points out, social media driven protests present certain challenges in Africa and beyond. For instance, the growing distrust in social media by most governments has resulted in the blocking or threatening to block,

51 censoring and interception of these social media platforms. Following the violent demonstrations that took place in Britain between July and August 2011, which were facilitated by Facebook, Twitter and BlackBerry Messenger, the British government expressed panic over social media prompting then Prime Minister David Cameron to suggest the blocking of social media if civil unrest or riots were to occur again in future (Chatora, 2012). However, British citizens largely criticised Cameron’s proposal, arguing that this was an infringement of the right to freedom of expression. In a number of recent African cases, countries like Tanzania have introduced cyber-crimes laws that restrict online freedom (MISA Report, 2017). To date, a string of internet shutdowns have been witnessed in several African countries, which largely questions the extent to which the internet can be used as a platform for free expression or as an alternative space for the articulation of counter-hegemonic discourses. Africa has been said to be amongst “the world’s worst violators when it comes to internet shutdowns.”13 Chad, Mali, Algeria, Somaliland, Cameroon, Sierra Leone, Gambia, Ethiopia, Morocco, Tunisia, Togo and Zimbabwe have all blocked access to the internet over the past years, in a bid to stifle dissent and silence opposition. It was reported that between 2016 and 2018 alone, Africa witnessed up to 46 internet shutdowns.14 Recent examples of internet shutdowns include Zimbabwe, now under Mnangagwa’s regime, where internet shutdown occurred in January 2019 over a dramatic hike in fuel prices which resulted in civil unrest. Earlier in December 2018, Sudan had blocked social media access in a bid to suppress nationwide protests prompted by price hikes and economic instability. The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) disrupted internet connectivity after the disputed presidential elections in December 2018, only for internet service to be restored 20 days later. Gabon also experienced internet shutdown in January 2019 during an attempted military coup.15

Many authoritarian regimes such as China, Cameroon, Uganda, Gabon, Lybia, Egypt,

13Quartz Africa (2018-11-19). “African countries disrupt internet connectivity more than anywhere else – Dahir, Abdi Latif”, https://qz.com/africa/1468491/africa-internet-shutdowns-grow-longer-in-cameroon-chad- ethiopia/ Accessed 18 March 2019. 14Euronews.com (2019-01-26).” African governments use Internet shutdowns to silence opposition”, https://www.euronews.com/2019/01/26/african-governments-use-internet-shutdowns-to-silence-opposition- more-and-more-what-can-pe, Accessed 18 March 2019. 15News24 (2019-01-21). “2019, a busy year for African Internet shutdowns”, https://www.news24.com/Africa/News/explainer-2019-a-busy-year-for-african-internet-shutdowns- 20190121, Accessed 18 March 2019.

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DRC, Azerbaijan and Zimbabwe, amongst others, have in the past, routinely employed strategies to block or discourage their citizens from using or abusing social media. Worryingly, this is a rapidly growing list. In the case of Zimbabwe, Mugabe has on several occasions publicly attacked social media, accusing it of fostering disrespect and decadence in society, resulting in the government proposing a bill to regulate social media, the Computer Crime and Cyber Crime Bill, which was apparently meant to restrict citizens from using social media to promote anarchy (Ndoma, 2017). The Cameroonian government, following the Arab Spring demonstrations in 2011, commanded mobile operator MTN to suspend its Twitter service, which was blocked for about ten days for “so-called” national security reasons (Chatora, 2012). Cameroonian activists criticised the government’s actions as an effort to restrict citizens from inciting protests against Paul Biya’s authoritarian regime. In fact, Cameroon is said to hold the record for overseeing the longest internet shutdown in Africa.16 These actions by various governments to curtail online freedom prove just how much social media can be seen as a threat those in power, and also how easy it is to block and incapacitate.

Chatora (2012) argues that despite the increasing penetration of the internet and mobile phones in most of Africa, social media is largely used by the urban social elite and middle-class citizens who not only possess the skills to use new communication technologies but can also afford to access them. In Zimbabwe for instance, it was mostly the metropolitan youths and middle-class citizens who participated in the #ThisFlag and other Tajamuka protests that loomed throughout the country facilitated by social media. Hence, it is important to note that apart from increasing government restrictions, there are other factors influencing the limited political participation of social media driven protests, especially in Africa. Furthermore, in environments where poverty is rife, citizens will most likely devote their time to “activities that guarantee their survival” instead of wasting time participating in political activities that may not actually produce any immediate or useful outcome for them (Chatora, 2012).

16Quartz Africa (2018-11-19). “African countries disrupt internet connectivity more than anywhere else – Dahir, Abdi Latif”, https://qz.com/africa/1468491/africa-internet-shutdowns-grow-longer-in-cameroon-chad- ethiopia/ Accessed 18 March 2019.

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Mpofu (2013), who examined the significant role played by the internet in providing a digital space for Zimbabwean citizens to exercise their “right to freedom of expression” within the repressive environment which they are subjected to, argues that the internet has become an alternative digital public sphere, where ordinary citizens can voice their counter-hegemonic ideas in the face of "elite and politically dominated public spheres" which are characterised by exclusion of marginal voices. Zimbabweans can discuss those issues which were considered as ‘taboo’, such as the president's health, state sponsored corruption or ZANU-PF factionalism, without fear of harassment, violence and intimidation by the authoritarian government. Mpofu (2013) illustrates this by examining online debates about the 1980s genocide (Gukurahundi) on the www.newzimbabwe.com website. The Gukurahundi issue was an acutely sensitive matter to Mugabe and his ZANU-PF government to the extent that any attempt to address or commemorate the victims is often regarded as criminal (Mpofu, 2013). For instance, in March 2010, Bulawayo police shut down the exhibition by an artist, Owen Maseko, which graphically detailed the Gukurahundi massacres, barely 24 hours after it opened.17 Maseko was charged with insulting the president and risked up to 24 years imprisonment. This case proves the degree to which Mugabe’s regime inhibited people from openly talking about Gukurahundi (Mpofu, 2013). The internet, on the other hand, has provided citizens with that alternative platform to openly debate about the events of the genocide and to honour the victims who were massacred.

Internet users have typically become “prosumers” of information who can easily disseminate their opinions and ideas to larger audiences at lower costs (this also enhances the process of virality, in relation to internet memes). In addition, Mpofu (2013) suggests that through the internet, ordinary citizens are able to interact with the elites (although the communication might not be direct) considering the intertextuality of these online debates. On the other hand, as we have already established, the power of the internet as an alternative space has not gone unnoticed by those in power, who strongly criticise its existence as a threat to authority and nationalism (Mpofu, 2013).

17Bulawayo24 (2011-06-06). “Artist faces more than 20 years in jail for depicting Gukurahundi”, http://www.bulawayo24.com/artistfacesmorethan20yearsinjailfordepictinggukurahundi/, Accessed 16 December 2017

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Mugabe once dismissed the internet as a platform used by the West and former colonialists:

...through which virulent propaganda and misinformation are peddled to de-legitimise our just struggles against vestigial colonialism… to weaken national cohesion and efforts at forging a broad Third World front against what patently is a dangerous imperial world order led by warrior states and kingdoms. (Mugabe, 2003 cited in Mpofu, 2013)18

Hence, Mugabe’s distaste for the internet can be traced back to the early 2000s, when it was just beginning to gain popularity in most African countries. In a more recent case, just prior to his fall, Mugabe mentioned that instead of abusing social media, the youths should rather use the platform to promote and defend the party’s (ZANU-PF) interests and to develop the country through ICTs19. Thus, Mugabe’s concerns regarding social media could be said to be proof of just how much the medium can be characterised as a dictator’s nightmare.

Mutsvairo (2013) uses the example of the controversial 2008 elections in Zimbabwe to assess the internet’s role in driving and promoting democratic reforms. Observing that new media technologies have become more easily accessible and affordable, and as a result more people can now coordinate and advance their interests and ideas, Mutsvairo (2013) explores how Zimbabwean diasporans used the internet to communicate and support pro-opposition and anti-Mugabe discourses into the country, resulting in Mugabe's unprecedented loss to MDC leader Tsvangirai. Zimbabwean diasporans, says Mutsvairo, were frustrated with the deteriorating economy back home and were angry with Mugabe for denying them the right to vote. The internet thus presented them with an opportunity to discredit Mugabe's government, encouraging relatives and back in Zimbabwe to vote for the opposition. At least, the diasporans hoped that an opposition win could revive the country’s perennially struggling economy. Mutsvairo (2013) concluded that the internet promotes citizen participation, what he calls “e-democracy”, and serves as a platform for influencing political change. “E-democracy”, says Mutsvairo, can be viewed as a

18 President Mugabe mentioned this during his speech at the World Summit on the Information Society in December 2003, Geneva, Switzerland. 19The Independent (2016-09-30). “Social media headache for Mugabe’s regime”, http://www.theindependent.co.zw/socialmediaheadacheforMugabe’sregime/, Accessed 25 February 2018.

55 significant characteristic of free expression that can be used in Zimbabwe or anywhere else as a form of enhancing political participation.

Following the #ThisFlag campaign, Zimbabwean diasporans in the UK, United States and others mobilised solidarity marches through social media. A group of diasporans living in the US, including #ThisFlag members, assembled outside the United Nations headquarters, requesting the international community to support their appeal for political change in Zimbabwe (Moretti, 2017). However, despite such efforts, the diasporan community has since remained largely “voiceless”. For instance, they are still denied a platform to vote from outside the country. Mutsvairo (2013) points out that digital technologies are yet to improve how Zimbabweans participate politically and to demonstrate their potential because the citizens themselves are not willing to “actively participate in politics due to fear of the unknown”, despite ‘almost’ unrestricted access to the internet. On the other hand, considering the arrests and torture that some bloggers and online activists such as Edmund Kudzayi and Evan Mawarire have experienced, how could one not fear the dire consequences of online dissent under Mugabe’s reign?

Bosch (2017) applies Foucault’s concept of counter-memory, defined as “resistance against official versions of historical continuity,” to study the mechanics of the #RMF campaign. She observes that some aspects of “selective memory of the past” were highlighted and new “minority memory”, new national identities and new meanings were created to counter existing old ones. As noted, the issue of memory comes with its own kind of politics, in which each individual from each age group makes an effort to recreate and modify memory in order suit its modern purpose (Bosch, 2017). In this regard, debates on Twitter concerning the #RMF were central in countering memory surrounding Cecil Rhodes. Certain tweets exposed extracts from his speeches which included Rhodes’ racist statements and how he paved the way for the institutionalisation of racism by the apartheid government. Hence, the #RMF campaign symbolised contemporary struggles against hegemonic constructions of history characterised by the transformation of old colonial monuments and the meanings embedded in them, as well as through rewriting history and memories of the past (Mitchell, 2013 cited in Bosch, 2017). One can contextualise this with how Zimbabweans use the internet as a platform to counter the hegemonic constructions

56 of Mugabe as a great revolutionary leader who saved the country from the colonialists. In addition, Bosch (2017) points out that the #RMF was central in mobilising for other student led protests in South Africa, particularly the Fees Must Fall movement where students protested the sudden increase of university tuition fees. Thus, this demonstrates the potential of social media in organising both virtual and real-world protests.

Gukurume (2017) uses the popular #ThisFlag and #ThisGown protest movements in Zimbabwe to examine the central role played by social media in mobilising both online and offline social movements. Gukurume (2017) argues that social media offered a discursive space for the country's ordinary citizens, especially youths, to freely express their socio-economic struggles and to challenge the corrupt activities of the government that have ravaged Zimbabwe's economy resulting in massive unemployment and increasing crime rates. In addition, Gukurume (2017) notes that social media “created a virtual community of dissent” in Zimbabwe that [temporarily] provided an opportunity for marginal voices to challenge Mugabe’s authoritarian rule. Zimbabwean youths, like most Zimbabweans in the diaspora, have largely been excluded from the country’s mainstream political arena which is dominated by a stranglehold of old ZANU-PF comrades (Gukurume, 2017). Typically, a ZANU-PF youth chairperson would be aged 40 or above. In such a scenario, the needs of the genuine youths are perpetually marginalised. Social media, although it is no silver bullet, allows for increased youth participation through the creation of counter-publics in which the marginalised youths could easily articulate their grievances, whilst challenging the hegemonic ideologies of ZANU-PF (Gukurume, 2017).

The #ThisGown, a student led protest, originated at the University of Zimbabwe and was largely facilitated by Mawarire’s #ThisFlag campaign which commenced on Facebook; while wearing their graduation gowns, students and unemployed graduates protested the increasing rate of unemployment in a country whose universities churn out thousands of graduates each year (Gukurume, 2017). Hence, instead of representing success and a bright future for graduates, in Zimbabwe the graduation gown has become a symbol of hopelessness, poverty and shattered dreams. Thus, Gukurume (2017) argues that social media mobilised groups who shared common interests and grievances to openly voice out their troubles to the government.

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Moreover, like the Arab Spring, although these protests developed through social media, mainly WhatsApp, Facebook and Twitter, they quickly turned into offline street movements, which demonstrates that political participation through social media does not only remain a myth and end online without eliciting actual action (Gukurume, 2017). In addition, Gukurume (2017) points out that the growing popularity of social media platforms amongst mostly urban youths in Zimbabwe partly explains their dominance in these movements.

Not surprisingly, some of the members of the #ThisGown protest, just like Mawarire of #ThisFlag, were threatened, arrested, intimidated and brutalised for their actions. Interestingly, the government used Twitter as a weapon to condemn and counter the movements (Gukurume, 2017). Some of ZANU-PF’s active ministers at the time, such as Jonathan Moyo, mocked the #ThisFlag protest through his twitter handle where he wrote “Oh. Very revealing. So #ThisFlag thing is a pastor’s fart. How stinking!” (Gukurume, 2017). Indeed, Jonathan Moyo went as far as creating a counter hashtag campaign called #OurFlag, which was supposedly meant to protect the country’s sovereignty thereby dismissing the #ThisFlag as worthless; Moyo’s actions, backed by other staunch ZANU-PF youths and ministers suddenly began a “cyber battle” on Facebook and Twitter, with the #ThisFlag followers responding negatively to the minister’s comments (Gukurume, 2017). While Moyo’s counter hashtag did not gain much popularity, it is important to consider the government’s increased efforts in attempting to crush social media movements whilst promoting ZANU-PF’s so-called patriotic ideologies.

Furthermore, as expected, Mawarire was labelled a “cyber terrorist” by state media, whilst president Mugabe, during a speech at the heroes’ acre, framed the pastor as a “foreign-funded agent of regime change” while at the same time questioning Mawarire’s citizenship and belonging as he stated that “people like Mawarire did not deserve to belong to Zimbabwe” (Gukurume, 2017: 63). Hence, Mugabe’s remarks demonstrated his fear, hatred and “intolerance for dissenting voices that are not compatible with his rhetoric of patriotism”. The “politicised discourse” of identity and belonging in Zimbabwe, whereby anti-Mugabe protestors are denigrated and identified as “sell-outs” or “traitors” who do not belong to the country, takes centre stage (Gukurume, 2017). As political exclusion has grown, it has resulted in growing social

58 media dissidence, with marginalised citizens negotiating and articulating their identities through various social media platforms, since they are precluded from doing so within the mainstream political arena.

CONCLUSION This chapter reviewed literature that established the discursive context and scope of my research, and assessed research on internet memes and social media, particularly as a platform for the articulation of dissident behaviour. Broadly, the literature agrees that internet memes play a significant role in subverting authority especially in autocratic environments, and that memes represent a creative form of vernacular speech that originates from below. Such vernacular speech allows oppressed citizens to express their opinions and to undermine authority. However, other literature contend that memes are merely silly and idiotic texts that present little or no challenge to the ruling class ideologies and that internet memes do not actually transcend protest. In other words, the power of memes should not be over exaggerated. It seems there is much to be said in support of either view. While I am in agreement that we should not get carried away by the worlds of memes in a far as their real or potential dissident power is concerned, I am not pessimistic that memes have little or no power. At least, as the fifth and sixth chapters show, memes can and do erode the images of the powerful. I have studied the nature extent of this erosion. More, however, still stands to be discovered on this topic.

In this chapter, it was established that state-controlled media in Zimbabwe practice patriotic journalism which promotes ruling class ideologies only, whilst side-lining counter-hegemonic discourses. The chapter concluded by examining themes on the use of social media as a digital space for practicing political dissidence. It was observed that the cyberspace has become a platform for protest, where ordinary citizens can challenge the hegemonic ideas that dominate elitist public spheres which normally exclude marginal voices. On the other hand, the extent to which the internet can be used as an alternative sphere of expression can be questioned, considering how dictatorial governments have made efforts to block internet access in a bid to stifle dissent. The next chapter discusses the theory of carnival.

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CHAPTER THREE

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK

Introduction The purpose of this chapter is to present the Theoretical Framework of the study. The Theoretical Framework chosen for the study revolves around the concept of carnival and the carnivalesque, espoused by the Russian theorist, Mikhail Bakhtin (born 1895, died 1975). The suspicion that Mugabe’s shit did stink like everyone else’s, and that his shit stinks too is one that has always fascinated downtrodden Zimbabweans. This patently mischievous suspicion framed the expectation that Mugabe, although powerful and therefore dangerous, was still made of flesh and bone and was – and therefore could be – mortal. In as far as he was mortal, he could be disrespected, could he not? It seemed that a fallible and mortal Mugabe could be panned, laughed at, mocked ridiculed, and unmasked. This broad “framing” is the basis of this study. The figure of Mugabe as the-one-who-could-not-be-challenged filled everyone with fear because it was itself immune from the fear it could inflict on others. But carnival changed all that. It took away, even if only for a moment, Mugabe’s vaunted immunity.

Most scholars who have explored the use of humour, cartoons and internet memes as forms of social or political dissidence, however, have employed alternative theories to their studies, such as Mbembe’s theories of sovereign power and Scott’s weapons of the weak theory (Siziba and Ncube, 2012), constructionist approaches to representation (Huntington, 2013), Schatz’s soft authoritarian tool kit (Pearce and Hajizada, 2014), Giddens’ structuration theory (Wiggins and Bowers, 2015), and so on. Indeed, other studies of humour and satire do not bother to apply any clear conceptual frameworks to their studies (cf. Musangi, 2012; Makombe and Agbede, 2016).

I have chosen the lens of carnival because it reminds us that Mugabe’s shit stank too. It is this knowledge that becomes the basis of the humour and satire directed at the person of the former president. Furthermore, I am convinced that carnival is neither new nor foreign to Zimbabwe – it is just called by different names and may manifest in unique ways. Carnival, I believe, provides a valid interpretive framework for the understanding and interpretation of the internet memes. In Chapters 5 and 6, Bakhtin’s

60 concept of carnival shall be applied to the analysis of selected Mugabe memes The carnival lens facilitates explanation of the socio-cultural and political function of “silliness” and “idiocy” in internet memes in a post-colonial authoritarian context and to identify the limitations of humour as a form of protest.

Carnival is an important aspect of Bakhtin’s thought, developed in his two seminal studies Rabelais and his World (1984a) and Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics (1984b). Indeed, McLemme (1997) argues that the concept has had the greatest influence amongst scholars from a range of disciplines around the world. McLemme (1997) has noted how the legendary works of the great Russian critic have been “rehabilitated” by his disciples over the past several decades, thereby gaining much popularity and importance throughout the world and across disciplines. Indeed, the concept of carnival has been applied by various scholars to the analysis of post- colonial literature, various forms of popular culture, comedy, young children’s pretend play, postmodern identity, film and cinema, folklore and even books from the bible, amongst other disciplines. McLemme (1997) points out that Rabelais and his World illustrates the carnival festival as a significant aspect of the historical context required in the understanding of Rabelais’ novel, Gargantua and Pantagruel. Rabelais’ novel should, according to Bakhtin (1984), serve as “a key to the immense treasury of folk humour which has been scarcely understood”.

Defining carnival Carnival, in the dictionary sense, is a festival marked by merrymaking and processions. At the other extreme, it is a frenetic, disorganised and often comic disturbance suggestive of a large public entertainment. Certainly, the elements of “festival”, “merrymaking”, and “comedy” make up a significant part of the Bakhtinian account of carnival. Bakhtin’s notion of carnival, however, is much deeper and broader than the dictionary meaning. This, as we shall see, is because it admits of the intersection of festivity with humour, power and truth. Furthermore, Bakhtin is interested in the ways carnival can mask and unmask power, and empower those who participate in it while threatening “officialdom”. As noted, carnival is neither new nor foreign to Zimbabwe. It is just called by different names and may manifest in unique ways. Again, as noted, the suspicion that Mugabe’s did shit like everyone else, and that his shit stinks too is one that, as we will see, had always fascinated downtrodden

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Zimbabweans. Unlike the untouchable elites, living in their mansions, the poor and downtrodden did come “in contact with each other” (Bakhtin 1984b: 10). The contact led to ferment of perverse jokes, framed by this mischievous expectation that Mugabe, though powerful and always dangerous, was still mortal and therefore could be disrespected, mocked and unmasked.

McLemme (1997: n.p) defines carnival as “a reminder that the pope’s shit stinks, too” – the very notion on which my study is grounded. In Bakhtin’s (1984: 11-12) words, “The entire world is seen in its droll aspect”. Suddenly, everyone is human once again. The immunity is gone. At the very least, carnival presents a momentary opportunity for experiencing the beautiful taste of life in which individuals can, in various creative ways, freely communicate and express their views openly without social constraints Bakhtin (1984: 10) asserts that:

As opposed to the official feast, one might say that carnival celebrated temporary liberation from the prevailing truth and from the established order; it marked the suspension of all hierarchical rank, privileges, norms, and prohibitions. Carnival was the true feast of time, the feast of becoming, change, and renewal. It was hostile to all that was immortalized and completed.

Carnival was a moment of sanctioned play where “official” truths (already-made truths fostered by the ruling class) were overthrown and replaced by “unofficial truths” that disrespected “official” boundaries through festive laughter, obscenities, grotesque imagery, profanities and subversion of rules amongst other carnivalesque elements.

The momentary emancipation that Bakhtin talks of was marked by a subversion of rules and roles, values and symbols which were the basis of the established order, through parody and satiric language. Moreover, this subversion was characterised by mock crowning and decrowning, in which those with less authority reversed the king’s authority. Bakhtin (1984: 124) says:

Crowning/ decrowning is a dualistic ambivalent ritual, expressing the inevitability and at the same time the creative power of the shift and renewal, the joyful relativity of all structure and order, of all authority and all position (hierarchy). Crowning already contains the idea of immanent decrowning: it is ambivalent from the very start. And he who is crowned is the antipode of a real king, a slave or a jester; this act, as it were, opens and sanctifies the inside-outside world of carnival.

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Hence, the carnival symbolises oppositional culture which emerges to counter the prevailing truth and function as “the privileged arm of the weak” ordinary and oppressed individuals of society. Carnival authorised a kind of discourse which was “freed from authority of all hierarchical positions” (Bakhtin, 1984: 123).

Supposing a discourse freed from authority and from of all hierarchical positions was possible, it would allow citizens to freely express their feelings and to discover and communicate their true identities subtly and explicitly. Bakhtin (1984: 10) says that during carnival time “a special type of communication evolved that led to the creation of a special form of marketplace speech and gesture, frank and free, permitting no distance between those who came in contact with each other”. Clearly, carnival is a language of the poor and downtrodden who come “in contact with each other”. Mugabe, in his Blue Roof mansion, could never come in contact with carnival or with the poor. This left space for the oppressed to evolve a special type of communication that people could get away with particularly in the context of the ubiquity of social media and the internet. Certainly, Bakhtin (1984: 8) recognises the “unofficial” carnival as “people’s second life” which is structured on “the basis of laughter...”

For Bakhtin (1984: 4), “laughter and its forms represent the least scrutinised sphere of people’s creation,” which makes it a significant aspect in the scrutiny of political resistance in authoritarian contexts. He states that “Laughter liberates not only from external censorship but first of all from the great interior censor; it liberates from the fear that developed in man during thousands of years: fear of the sacred, of prohibitions, of the past, of power” (1984: 94). Hence:

Laughter embraces both poles of change, it deals with the very process of change, with crisis itself. Combined in the act of carnival laughter are death and rebirth, negation and affirmation. This is profoundly universal laughter, a laughter that contains a whole outlook on the world Bakhtin (1984: 164).

Mugabe’s regime was ringed round with prohibitions, such as Section 33 of the Criminal Law (Codification and Reform) Act, and by the dreaded Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO), and hundreds of other little prohibitions that could get one in trouble with the police or with the ZANU militia. These plethora of prohibitions, in turn, created a plethora of laughter. Carnival laughter, according to Bakhtin (1984: 11-12)

63 is “the laughter of all the people”, not just the snooty elites and politicians. Secondly, “it is universal in scope: it is directed at all and everyone, including the carnival’s participants”. It is thus a democratic laughter. Thirdly, “this laughter is ambivalent”. It can be “triumphant, and at the same time mocking, deriding. It asserts and denies, it buries and revives. Such is the laughter of carnival”.

In addition to laughter, carnival was also characterised by profanation and obscene language which Bakhtin viewed as a new form of open communication within the carnival square (public sphere). Profanation is defined by Bakhtin (1984: 123) as “a whole system of carnivalistic debasing and bringing down to earth; carnivalistic obscenities linked with the reproductive power of the earth and the body, carnivalistic parodies on sacred texts and sayings.” It is a form of blasphemous behaviour that involves the degradation and lowering of “sacrosanct” characters in society. Bakhtin (1984: 17) observes that obscenities and profanities were “excluded from the sphere of official speech because they broke its norms; they were therefore transferred to the familiar sphere of the marketplace.” However, carnival was all-inclusive and universal. As Bakhtin (1984: 122) suggests, “Carnival is a pageant without footlights and without division into performers and spectators. In a carnival everyone is an active participant, everyone communes in the carnival act,” and as a result the carnival easily disrupts established societal structures and norms. Hence, carnival is a way of challenging dominant discourses, conquering power inequalities and societal hierarchies through the humorous mockery of hierarchical order by those subjugated by it.

Since “people who in life are separated by impenetrable hierarchical barriers enter into free and familiar contact on the carnival square” (Bakhtin (1984: 123), carnival therefore was a space “for working out, in a concretely sensuous, half-real and half- play acted form, a new mode of inter-relationships between individuals, counter-posed to the all-powerful socio-hierarchical discourse of non-carnival life”. The carnival square was a discursive sphere in which people created new relationships and overthrew existing social hierarchies that fostered inequalities in their society. During the carnival, ordinary individuals could find a temporary “utopian realm of community, freedom, equality, and abundance” (Bakhtin 1984: 9), which meant that carnival provided a sense of belonging for marginalised individuals within their society, in which they were free to express themselves without being punished for their actions.

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Langman (2008) investigates how the human body has become a carnivalesque form of transgression and a site for potential dissidence or cultural resistance against elitist culture. She argues that individuals (especially youths) normally find themselves trapped in a “rationalised world of rules and regulations” and as such, most people remain alienated (marginalised) within their societies and politically powerless to foster any change. One can argue that under the Mugabe regime, Zimbabweans found themselves trapped in fear and in a web of rules (laws that hindered free speech and free expression) and therefore remained politically powerless to facilitate any form of change. Hence given such conditions, we have seen the re-emergence of Bakhtin's carnival which legitimates various forms of transgressions as critique and resistance (such as internet memes).

For Langman, each of these forms “can be understood as a way of claiming agency to resist domination, experience ‘utopian moments’ and invert disciplinary codes”. These include a variety of body adornments (jewellery) and modifications (tattoos, piercings, breast and butt implants, vaginal rejuvenation) which are a form of protest against repression of the body and economic inequality; punk/metal music and fashions which empower audiences and allow expression of rage and protest; as well as the growing popularity of pornography [which has since migrated from liminal spaces at the margins of society to become a central motif in mainstream lifestyle and culture] and can be seen as a critique of “patriarchal codes of morality” whilst valorising the body as a basis of empowerment. Langman (2008) argues that today’s carnivals are a form of protest against the “one-dimensional lifestyle” which is promoted by the culture industries. In this regard, she defines carnivalisation as “the process by which various expressions of transgression and an aesthetic of the grotesque are provided as commodities that keep in check the anger and discontent of a commodified, capitalist political economy in its global moment” (Langman, 2008: 663).

This kind of carnivalisation can be understood as a subculture that provides a sense of belonging for youths and other marginalised individuals whilst empowering them to create a brand-new identity (Langman, 2008). One can argue that internet memes in Zimbabwe have become a form of carnivalisation that creates virtual subcultures and brand-new identities for oppressed citizens in the cyber-world. For Langman (2008),

65 something as mundane as body modifications and adornments indicate how some of these individuals reject alienation through embracing the grotesque. Others express a form of carnivalesque resistance through punk fashion, in which they wear various kinds of black leather normally spiked or studded and also put on extreme multi- coloured hairstyles; goth style is another form of cultural transgression, in which individuals wear black make-up, fishnet stockings, dark hair colours which all symbolise "oppositional erotic styles" that critique mainstream fashion styles.

Langman (2008) further suggests that pornography is a form of “aesthetic expression” which gives women the power to explore their sexuality and redefine their sexual norms. She argues against anti-sex feminists who often argue that pornography reduces women to sexual objects whilst promoting misogynistic tendencies, violence and rape toward women; instead, Langman (2008) suggests that “the display of naked female bodies experiencing actual sexual intercourse...” signifies the power and erotic prowess possessed by females; and like carnival life, it is a utopian moment in which couples escape from the harsh realities of the universe to experience an alternative life. Likewise, through the creation and sharing of mocking Mugabe memes, one could argue that Zimbabweans escape from the harsh conditions which they are subjected to under Mugabe's dictatorship and experience a sort of temporary alternative life within the cyber-world. On the other hand, Langman (2008) points to the limitations of this kind of carnivalisation which is highly commodified to produce profits to further sustain hegemony and reproduce social inequalities. This points to the “ambivalence” of the carnival; although carnival allows marginal voices to freely express themselves in the face of mainstream authoritative culture, whilst subverting established hierarchies, it also allows the reinforcement of certain hierarchical norms. Like Langman, (although focusing on internet memes) I examine carnivalesque forms of transgression that critique the ideological codes, values and morals of the elites.

Karimova (2010) examines the influence of Bakhtin's carnival on contemporary popular culture texts such as Southpark and Jackass and on the socio-political environment of “everyday” life. He argues that the carnivalesque is not only limited to popular culture texts but rather goes beyond everyday life which encompasses the lives of content creators, audiences, and even directors of those television shows and programs. For Karimova (2010), although carnival laughter may be what Bakhtin refers

66 to as the “second life” of people, it is also apparent in the “everyday life” of people. In this regard, I argue that the carnival laughter fostered by internet memes is also apparent in the everyday lives of Zimbabweans (both the creators and the readers of those memes); they experience a "second life" as they constantly modify and forward those funny memes to others mocking Mugabe and undermining his rule. In his analysis of Jackass and Southpark, Karimova (2010) finds that both these shows are characterised by use of “billingsgate language”, grotesque images, crowning and decrowning, bringing together of opposites and festive laughter that liberates the audience from certain social norms and structured hierarchies by “celebrating the lower bodily stratum”, and by inversion of certain ideological codes and exaggeration.

Billingsgate language, according to Bakhtin (1984:16), is characterised by “abusive language, insulting words or expressions, some of them quite lengthy and complex.” It is described as the unofficial and familiar language of the marketplace, which is marginalised from the official speech. Hence billingsgate language undermines hierarchical order and gives a sense of freedom and happiness to the “othered” individuals in society; according to Karimova, this is what Bakhtin (1984: 51) refers to as “the gay, liberating and regenerating element of laughter” in the carnival. One can find that some of the Mugabe internet memes contain billingsgate language which desacralizes Mugabe’s so called “sacrosanct” character, offering Zimbabwean citizens a sense of joy and freedom from his oppressive rule. Carnivalesque elements, says Karimova (2010), are used to reproduce and sustain hierarchical order, considering the millions of dollars generated by these shows. Karimova (2010) further argues that although the producers of these shows ridicule popular celebrities, they themselves are part of the capitalist society as they have acquired celebrity status; a contradiction which he argues is carnivalesque in nature. The carnivalisation of popular cultural texts is significant in that it gives an alternative way of viewing the accepted social order and formulates dialogue between a range of contradictory voices.

Cohen (2011) applies Bakhtin’s concept of carnival to young children’s pretend play. She draws examples from her study of three and four-year-old preschool children to illustrate how carnival relates to early childhood pretend role play. Cohen (2011) argues that pre-schoolers explore their identities and negotiate their relationships with the “adult world” in which they live in and succumb to. Her argument is based on the

67 context that Bakhtin views carnival as an act of rebellion, satire and playfulness. Bakhtin (1984) distinguishes between official life whereby an individual is subjected to the hierarchy of the social order and unofficial carnival life which frees the individual from daily social norms and restrictions. In the Zimbabwean context, official life is the daily life which citizens experience under strict laws that hinder free speech and Mugabe’s dictatorial government that uses violence to intimidate people, whilst unofficial carnival life is when citizens create, modify and circulate memes via social media mocking Mugabe and undermining his authority. Cohen (2011) suggests that like carnival, pretend role play is a form of satirical and playful act for preschool children that frees them from the restrictive social order in which they are subjected to at home by adults. Likewise, internet memes can be described as satirical and playful forms that free Zimbabweans from the restrictive environment in which they live under Mugabe's government.

Cohen (2011) argues that young children resist unwanted societal structure and rules through pretending; as they act and speak in their own words (their unofficial discourse), they retell the official words of their parents, which allows them to internalise the words and actions of adults and society (echoing Bakhtin’s concept of heteroglossia); Bakhtin (1984: 185) refers to this as “double-voiced discourse” or speech that is “directed toward someone else’s speech”. Cohen argues that children adopt this carnival form of using double-voiced discourse through playful interactions that free them from authority. Children internalise their parents’ words, redefining them to establish their own voices through dramatization and as a result “the self is caught up in the other through mockeries and inversions.” Some of the Mugabe memes on social media use this carnival style of double-voiced discourse which allows individuals to resist the unwanted status-quo; there are viral videos of individuals who imitate Mugabe’s voice and retell his words in their own ways as a way of mocking him. Cohen (2011) concludes that early childhood teachers should approach pre-schooler's pretend play from a carnival lens in order to appreciate the importance that pretend play has in helping children to develop the “self”, understand their world and the role they play in it. Cohen’s study partly helps to develop a better understanding of carnival as it is applied to other spheres of research.

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Hu (2012) applies Bakhtin's concept of carnival to the analysis of copycatting culture. Copycatting refers to the coping, imitation or cloning of the modern popular (elite) brands, such as Nokia, Apple, Samsung and so forth, while creating products with a similar though misleading appearance and fraudulent characteristics, for instance Nokir, Samsing, Sunny Erriccsun and so forth. Drawing from this, Hu (2012) argues that the language of copycatting culture is carnivalised as it subverts and challenges the normal or general laws of language through altering famous "elite" brands for purposes of sarcasm. As Bakhtin (1984: 420) observes, “the more unofficial and familiar the speech, the more often and substantially are those tones combined, the less distinct is the line dividing praise and abuse.” The kind of language used in copycatting culture expresses “the carnival sense of the world, because language is power, language constructs identity and ethnicity” thereby helping to construct different ideologies from the existing dominant ones (Hu, 2012: 126).

Hu (2012) suggests that copycatting culture is characterised by anti-authority, anti- reasoning, anti-official, anti-reality, anti-society as well as deconstruction, and has evolved into the cultural circle as a form of subculture by means of mocking, imitating or spoofing the mainstream, authoritative culture; I argue that internet memes function in the same manner, in which “the marginal voices fight for their own identity against oppression from the mainstream discourses” (Hu, 2012: 127). Because internet memes constitute of remixed and imitated images, image macros and videos that are meant to mock and subvert established structures in society through humour and sarcasm, I argue that memes are also part of copycatting culture, some of which are characterised by anti-authority (anti-Mugabe in this case) and anti-official language. However, Hu (2012) points outs that, although copycatting culture [like internet meme creation] as a form of carnival is a way for the marginalised to express their ideas and fight high culture, the victory against mainstream culture is short and restricted as copycatting culture cannot completely isolate from dominant culture; “it is a utopian ideality”. Rather, it will be ultimately assimilated or annexed by that same high culture it is fighting against; again, stressing the ambivalent nature of the carnival.

Deveau (2012) applies Bakhtin’s concepts of laughter and carnivalesque to comedy from a feminist perspective. Through the analysis of an age-old joke “The Aristocrats”, she illustrates how female comedians create humour from within a misogynistic and

69 masculinised environment. The film is a reflection of the problematic of the nuclear family which is characterised by lying and cruelty to children and their abnormal acts to suit the needs of their parents and society; so, the film is retold as a joke by various comedians as a form of social critique aimed at the nuclear family, the restriction of freedom of speech and the entertainment industry. Drawing from this, Deveau (2012) points out that performing stand-up comedy in public has been considered as masculine through prohibition against female speech and thus the female perspective in comedy has been constructed as a marginalised one. Hence, she focuses on the value of humour in negotiating power and space for marginalised female comics through an investigation of “The Aristocrats” joke (out of 105 comedians who retell the joke, 15 are women and the way they retell this joke is evident of the “politics of humour and laughter”).

Deveau (2012) argues that the film shows that “liminal humour” of marginalised groups (such as female comics) can be considered as threatening as it challenges norms and subverts existing hierarchies. For Deveau, comedy is a form of political weapon with an emancipatory potential and ability to undermine hierarchy and authority; but it can also paradoxically bring people together into a “common discursive” body. One can argue that within authoritarian and restrictive environments, internet memes also function as political weapons of humour and laughter that are used to undermine authority by marginalised and oppressed citizens. On the other hand, Deveau (2012) points out the limitations of carnival which, she argues, “violently abuses and demonises weaker social groups” such as women, children, religious or ethnic minorities and so forth. She concludes that comedy only exists to amuse the people, but cannot actually change the world; in the same manner, Zimbabweans create and circulate Mugabe memes on the internet as jokes to amuse themselves and others, whilst escaping from the harsh socio-economic and political realities which they experience on a daily basis.

Some Zimbabwean scholars have applied Bakhtin’s concept of carnival in analysing various aspects of post-colonial literature. For instance, Veit-Wild's (1997) article provides an interesting analysis of carnival and hybridity features in post-colonial literature, with particular focus on the works of Zimbabwean writer Dambudzo Marechera and South African poet Lesego Rampolokeng. Veit-Wild's study situates

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Bakhtin’s carnival within an African context, which is necessary for one’s proper understanding of the concept. Veit-Wild (1997) examines how Marechera's and Rampolokeng's works serve to illustrate a subversive form of hybrid and carnivalesque style that aims at “dethroning” so-called ruling discourses. She argues that their works challenge, undermine and strip away biased discourses of African identity that have become obsolete, outdated and very dangerous since they are now used (rather abused) by black elites to sustain their authoritarian rule. In this way, homogenous views of the world, linear ways of thinking and realist approaches of nation and identity building in African literature have been replaced by new artistic and carnivalesque elements that transcend the perceptions and limitations of realism.

Veit-Wild (1997) illustrates features of syncretism (mixture of modern styles and cultural traditions) in Marechera's and Rampolokeng's works as she unpacks the various carnivalesque elements in each of their works. Veit-Wild suggests that syncretism, a key element of hybrid consciousness, has been considered as “impure and anti-hierarchical” in the history of religion and art, and therefore is related to the carnivalesque. She cites Bakhtin’s definition of carnival as:

a syncretic form of traditional character, that puts itself on display.... Carnival turns the world upside-down. The laws, prohibitions, and limits that determine the habitual order of life are not in force for the duration of the carnival. This applies above all to the hierarchical order and all forms of fear, reverence, piety, and etiquette that emerge from it.... Carnival unites, mixes, and marries the sacred with the profane, the high with the low, the great with the small, the wise with the foolish.... (Bakhtin, 1990: 48-49)

Veit-Wild (1997: 555) thus concludes that carnival “means the grotesque and the hybrid, satire and parody, polyphony and ambiguity; the emphasis on the bodily baser instincts, eccentric, abnormal and indecent behaviour, the violation of good manners and social rules.” It is important to note a significant feature of this hybrid situation, polyglossia, a mixture of two or more languages in which the “master language” is dethroned and decentred through parody. Veit-Wild (1997) describes how Marechera remained as an outsider in Zimbabwe, with his writing denigrated as “un-African”, “western decadence” and “bourgeois”. Marechera’s second novel Black Sunlight, for instance, was banned and censored as, according to the Zimbabwe Censorship Board, it not only contained obscene language but also violated Christian morals. The

71 banning of Black Sunlight is no different to the arrest, torture and intimidation of individuals who allegedly incited public disorder, criminally insulted and undermined Mugabe's authority via internet platforms. Marechera himself was once arrested for conducting a one-man demonstration against Mugabe.

Veit-Wild (1997) goes on to argue that carnival plays a significant political function as she describes how Bakhtin distinguished between organic hybridity (linguistic creolisation) and intentional hybridity (when one voice is capable of ironising and unmasking the other within the same utterance). She argues that intentional hybridity undermines and unsettles authoritative discourses, further citing how Bakhtin’s idea has been developed in discussions of post-colonial theory. Homi Bhabha (1990) for instance, develops Bakhtin’s idea of “intentional hybrid” into a form of “Third Space” that emerges from the “hybrid moment of political change” and therefore becomes an active form of resistance against hegemonic powers. Marechera’s writing, contends Veit-Wild (1997), liberated the minds of younger generations in post-colonial Zimbabwe who have had to battle against increasing corruption, social inequalities and political repression under Mugabe's regime; hence, we have witnessed the emergence of internet memes that function as active political weapons of resistance against Mugabe's autocratic rule. On the other hand, Marechera's transgression of realist forms of writing and his departure from restrictive modes of nationalist thinking left him marginalised from official Zimbabwean politics, as he ended up stranded on the streets or in prison; just like Mawarire, Kudzayi and many more in modern Zimbabwe under Mugabe's regime (illustrating the ambivalence of carnival).

Veit-Wild (1997) describes how Rampolokeng's rap is an “expressive” form of syncretic art that is “new, exciting and liberating”, which involves the use of parody and re-interpretation (carnivalisation) of the “master language”. Rampolokeng’s lyrics “decentre, destabilise and carnivalise the linguistic domination of English” (p. 562). Veit-Wild applies Bakhtin's notion of parodic travesty to Raampolokeng’s rap, as she illustrates how the rapper plays with words while mocking and mimicking what other have said. In other words, the rapper mimics the original by transforming the master language using his African accent and making jokes. Veit- Wild argues that Marechera and Rampolokeng’s use of peculiar imagery, their violent transgression against language and meaning and their violation of cultural boundaries

72 are all ways of striking back and decentring hegemonic discourses. In this regard, as Veit-Wild points out, it is important to note that carnival is not merely a “culture of laughter” but also carries along a serious political side, which serves to destabilise authoritative discourses.

Viriri (2013) examines the significance of the centrality of Bakhtin's concept of carnival in understanding the various narratives generated at the Pungwe (Night Vigils during the Zimbabwean liberation war) and represented in the Shona novels. The author argues that the Pungwe institution was a carnival space, a public sphere, a moment of counter-hegemonic mobilisation and a main site for expressive cultural resistance against the dominant colonial administration. Likewise, one can argue that the cyberspace has become a carnival space where citizens can express a culture of resistance against domination through the creation of memes. Viriri (2013) suggests that Pungwe as a carnival performance provided a form of “topsy-turvy” inversion in which the masses (subaltern classes) mimicked and imitated the “highly regarded white aristocracy” with their satirical songs. Various activities such as songs, traditional dances, political jokes, rituals and many more practices of resistance were performed at the Pungwe’s carnival. The masses created these spaces of resistance at the centre of those territories that were occupied and controlled by the state, and hence they were able to unsettle the colonial regime through subversive songs.

Pungwe was characterised by the suspension of hierarchies and social customs, and therefore, like carnival life (unofficial), departed from the official as it sought to transform “people's day to day socio-political existence.” Viriri (2013) describes Pungwe as a popular festival in which the oppressed masses lived their lives to the fullest by mocking and parodying the hierarchical order, thereby overcoming the social class divide. It was a weapon used by the masses to voice out their concerns, worries and wishes during the liberation war. The author also puts emphasis on the Pungwe’s dialogic nature of exposing multiple narratives at the same time. The use of popular liberatory songs at the Pungwe characterised it as a “space of double voicedness” which provided alternative narratives that opposed the dominant discourses and countered the propaganda of the white Rhodesian government. In the same manner, the internet provides such a discursive space that allows citizens to express alternative

73 narratives and to counter the propaganda fostered by Mugabe's government through state media.

Pungwe, like carnival, was a crowd puller in which “everyone participates because its very idea embraces all the people” (Bakhtin 1984: 7). One can argue that with the growing popularity of smart phones and social media platforms in Zimbabwe over the years, especially WhatsApp, Twitter and Facebook, it has become easier for citizens to participate in the creation, modification and sharing of Mugabe memes, hence one could suggest that these memes are also crowd pullers that draw people together to create a culture of resistance against Mugabe whom most detested especially toward the end of his reign. Viriri (2013) argues that Pungwe gave the subaltern classes a direction on how to overcome oppression and minimised communication barriers between the guerillas and the masses. In addition, Viriri describes Bakhtin's notion of degradation and renewal to illustrate ways in which Pungwe degraded (joyful degradation characterised by excessive drinking, eating, dancing and singing) the colonial government by “digging a bodily grave for a new birth and regenerating a new one through independence.”

At the same time, Pungwe reproduced new forces of hegemonic discourses as unequal power relations existed among the subaltern classes themselves. On another note, he briefly explores various forms of postcolonial Pungwes in Zimbabwe, Galas and Biras, which he argues are a carnivalisation of the patriotic national project, utilising the iconography of liberation war heroes and symbolisms of the achievement of independence in 1980. Viriri’s thesis helps to trace the concept of carnival to colonial Zimbabwe and literature; the bulk of literature on carnival traces the concept to the European medieval carnival or otherwise the “famous” Brazilian carnival, and the bulk of existing colonial literature depicts Africans as people without any form of reasoning capacity. The general impression is that the West introduced the concept of carnival to Africans (can we say the concept of carnival is foreign to Africa?), yet this study helps to overcome this belief that Africans have no form of carnival of their own which they created themselves.

Ngoshi (2016) applies a carnivalesque lens to the analysis of NoViolet Bulawayo's novel We Need New Names, which enables one to develop a better understanding of

74 the postcolonial condition in Zimbabwe, and at the same time provides an appreciation of the limits of carnival as a form of protest. Ngoshi pays particular attention to the use of vulgar and grotesque elements in the novel by child characters as a form of protest and subversion of authoritative (hegemonic) discourses. Bulawayo’s novel happens to be an allegorical satire of postcolonial Zimbabwe, in which she reveals the political and cultural indecency (corruption, poverty, poor economy, bad governance etc.) rampant in the state. Drawing on this, Ngoshi (2016) argues that the child characters (marginal subjects) in the novel use vulgar language and images of kaka (human excrement) to speak back to power, degrade hegemonic ideas and undermine various forms of authority, although this is momentary. During the carnival, social and political boundaries are trashed through vulgar and grotesque expressions as well as through mimicking of the upper class. Connelly (1984: 26) cited in Ngoshi (2016), states that the carnivalesque was interpreted by Bakhtin “as the voice of the people,” and “as the vehicle of self-expression for the usually suppressed and regulated proletariat.” Wade (2001) cited in Ngoshi (2016) suggests that carnival “promotes anti-hegemonic tendencies” which is a significant aspect in the protest against abuse of power by black post-colonial governments.

In the narrative, the children of Paradise (a settlement created by the poor after the destruction of their homes, which were considered to be illegally constructed, by the state) undermine political and social authority through vulgar and parodic acts. In most post-colonial states (Zimbabwe in this case), political and religious power are excessively abused and exercised over society by powerful individuals on behalf of the state through ideological state apparatuses such as the media and the church; hence the children (citizens) create their own spaces and forms of social and political transgression in a carnivalesque manner (through the use of humour and vulgar). Firstly, according to Ngoshi, Paradise is a slum created by the poor and marginalised, hence the name is more of a degradation of the actual concept of “paradise”. The settlement is characterised by a lot of cultural indecency in which the adults leave children to do as they please (symbolising political and social decay in the post- colony); Chipo, an 11 year old raped by her grandfather is pregnant and nobody cares; the existence of an obscenely named false prophet “Revelations Bitchngton Mborro” (a symbol of religious authority); the narrator's mother performs sexual acts with a man in front of her child and so forth. The narrator strongly disapproves of the prophet,

75 thereby ridiculing and undermining his religious authority, and so does his obscene name which with one “r” removed translates to penis.

In addition, the children constantly raid Budapest (low density suburb for the wealthy) where they spit on its “clean” streets, vomit, steal guavas, throw litter and come across a rude security guard whom they insult and spit on (undermining political authority of the post-colonial government); they also visit a Chinese construction site where they symbolically undermine Zimbabwe’s largely celebrated Look East policy (the narrator claims that “we don't need their kaka mall” referring to the Chinese mall under construction). There are also various incidents of the children using the term kaka (faeces, as derived from kaka); “I’m blazing out of this kaka country myself” (referring to Zimbabwe as kaka), "...I don’t need any kaka school to make money” and so forth. All these features, according to Ngoshi (2016), symbolise political and social decadence in the post-colony and at the same time act as symbols of protest against social and political repression. Ngoshi argues that during those brief moments in which the children transgress social boundaries, they degrade hegemonic values and evoke a “utopian” community in which they wish to live.

But, while these carnival moments allow marginalised subjects to gain “some degree of power to live an alternative life”, they fail to transcend protest (Ngoshi 2016: 53). It can be argued that although the use of humour in the form of political cartoons and internet memes as carnivalesque ways of resisting autocracy does allow oppressed citizens to experience an alternative life of free speech, it has not exactly proven to go beyond that as citizens continue to suffer under dictatorial regimes. For instance, even with the creation and rapid spread of Mugabe memes on social media, Zimbabweans continued to suffer under Mugabe's shadow; Mugabe's government even threatened to silence social media protest. This stresses the ambivalence of carnival, which undermines authority while at the same time reinforcing hegemonic forces. The children in the narrative for instance, imitate white people’s manners and long to live in the Diaspora, away from this “kaka” country; this illustrates that there is no form of “strict resistance to political domination” as the children dream to dine with the autocrats, and share the wealth. This has been the case in most post-colonial African states, with their leaders becoming greedy dictators (like Mugabe in this case) who only care about accumulating wealth for themselves; hence the reason why we have

76 witnessed the emergence of carnivalesque forms of resistance such as internet memes in this case.

Strongly connected to Bakhtin’s concept of carnival is his notion of grotesque-realism. The carnival disrespected and de-crowned the so-called sacred kings who supposedly ruled by divine right through mockery and it relied on some kind of “anticlassical grotesque realism” which Bakhtin regarded as a kind of speech based on rebirth. For Bakhtin (1984: 48), “the world is destroyed so that it may be regenerated and renewed.” Thus:

to degrade an object does not imply merely hurling it into the void of nonexistence, into absolute destruction, but to hurl it down to the reproductive lower stratum, the zone in which conception and new birth take place. Grotesque realism knows no other lower level; it is the fruitful earth and womb. It is always conceiving. (Bakhtin, 1984a: 21)

The key element of grotesque-realism, says Bakhtin (1984: 19-20), is “degradation”. That is, “the lowering of all that is high, spiritual, ideal, abstract; it is a transfer to the material level, to the sphere of earth and body in their indissoluble unity.” During carnival, the authority of kings and clergy was degraded; it was that utopian moment for those with less authority to turn over the official aspects of society upside-down and inside-out for purposes of “rebirth and renewal”. Through the creation of internet memes, citizens with less political power are able to degrade Mugabe’s authority and his so called “sacred” image; they experience a utopian moment that allows them to “turn over” the official rules and regulations that normally prevent them from free speech. Bakhtin (1984: 34) asserts that the carnivalesque-grotesque allows one to “suspend all conventions and established truths, to realize the relative nature of all that exists, and to enter a completely new order of things.” In other words, the carnivalesque-grotesque according to Bakhtin does not just describe the vulgar and obscene, but it can also be described as a limitless challenge to the hierarchical and moral structures of everyday life (Halnon, 2006). The carnivalesque-grotesque represents an effort to “subdue demonic aspects of the world” (Bakhtin (1984: 49), which brings out its liberating effect (Davidson, 2008). The grotesque can be regarded as a way of unfolding the concealed aspects of reality; it is a means for ordinary people to attempt controlling those horrible elements which they fear within their society [be it society’s rules, norms, symbols or values] (Davidson, 2008). Central to grotesque

77 imagery is the grotesque body which is characterised by abundance and is rebellious to authority.

Halnon (2006) investigates how the carnival nature of heavy metal music expresses a "dis-alienating politics of resistance" against dominant commercial culture. Using Bakhtin's concept of the carnival-grotesque, she explains how grotesque realism in heavy metal music and performances functions as a liminal alternative and resistance to the “dis-authenticating forces of commercialism”. Halnon (2006: 36) sees heavy metal carnival as “a creative liminal utopia of human freedom, equality, community, and abundance, a challenge to the falsification of everyday life, a cathartic outlet for everyday aggression, and a medium for experiencing the exhilaration of wide-awake and focused life”. She argues that heavy metal music is extremely transgressive as it breaks down the noise of commercial culture by rebelling against all social rules and authority, morality, the sacred, the decent and all that is civilised. One can argue that, Mugabe memes on social media “broke down the noise” of state media and ZANU-PF narratives that honoured and idolised Mugabe's image. For Halnon (2006), the bizarre, freaky, extreme, outrageous and grotesque aspects of heavy metal performances (the metal screaming, growling, distortion, vulgar, obscenity, spitting, urine, blood, vomit, semen and faeces, the violence and death imagery) represent a form of rebirth, self- expression, an inversion of commercialised mainstream culture, and an experience of collectivity and community amongst fans. One can suggest that through the creation and sharing of memes on social media, citizens create new communities on the cyberspace, such as WhatsApp or Facebook groups that enable them to discuss and express their anger toward Mugabe's actions, scorn the president and laugh at his memes together, thereby experiencing a sense of joy and community.

For Halnon (2006), heavy metal [like internet memes) liberates the “outcasts” from prevailing truth, objective reality and established order (at least for a few utopian hours). Presdee (2002) cited in Halnon (2006) asserts that “carnival is playful and pleasurable revolution, where those normally excluded from the discourse of power may lift their voices in anger and celebration.” Carnival exposes, elevates and celebrates the lives of the marginalised, stigmatised and symbolically annihilated individuals who are normally placed at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Halnon (2006) argues that heavy metal carnival offers the courage and confidence to reject

78 anything or anyone, transgress against any social structures, and express themselves in any way they want to; internet memes may function in the same manner especially in authoritarian contexts like Zimbabwe. Halnon (2006) points out the prevalence of condemnation of heavy metal music in academic literature, where most scholars contend that heavy metal is a result of the “pervasive failure of socialisation”; yet Halnon challenges such claims. Her analysis, quite an interesting one, relates to my study which investigates how the carnivalesque nature of internet memes expresses a form of “dis-alienating politics of resistance” against mainstream discourses.

Davidson’s (2008) paper provides a comprehensive description and analysis of the features of Bakhtin’s carnivalesque-grotesque in the biblical book of Judges which contains elements of humour and horror in just about equal amounts, a genre that may be classified as “black comedy” or “grotesque realism”. He argues that most scholars who analyse humour in the bible ignore Judges and those who analyse Judges fail to notice the prevalence of humour in the book. Davidson points out that in order to unravel the underlying meaning of Judges, one should pay close attention to the comic as well as to other cunning and complex features in the book. He begins by providing a definition of the term grotesque from a Bakhtinian lens, and then describes various features of the carnivalesque-grotesque which are present in Judges; body parts, degradation, wrong use of common objects, topsy-turvy world, irony, satire, parody and travesty, games, riddles and puzzles, disguises and masks, dismemberment and mutilation, exaggeration of numbers, suspension of normal rules of behaviour, madness, heterogeneity, women as destructive of men, focus on the common people, and quirky nomenclature. Davidson's application of Bakhtin's carnivalesque-grotesque to a biblical book serves to illustrate that the concept of carnival transcends any form of genre, as it can be applied to a wide range of genres or disciplines - from folk culture to popular culture (fashion, music, television shows, etc.), religion, post-colonial literature, education, internet humour, and far beyond, just to mention a few of these genres. Davidson's study will also help to interpret and unravel certain aspects of grotesque humour that may be present in the internet memes which I shall examine.

While most scholars focusing on Bakhtin’s carnival have argued that carnivalisation involves various forms of transgression that represent a subversion of aristocracy, Hiebert (2003) provides a whole different postmodern perspective as he suggests that

79 carnival is rather a “nihilistic” subversion of identity itself. Hiebert uses Bakhtin's carnival to recontextualise the possibilities of a contemporary identity; an attempt to illustrate how carnival can be used as a form of dealing with the contemporary “nihilism of the self”. He argues that the 21st century carnival is not the original carnival as it has developed, progressed and grown, rather it re-emerges as a concept under Bakhtinian influence; for Hiebert (2003: 113), the carnival as we know it is “no longer a license to be free, rather it has become a free license to become”. As a result, “identity becomes carnivalesque, performance of the self becomes its method, and Bakhtin’s heteroglossia becomes first a xenoglossia, and then a gestural glossolalia” (113). Drawing from Hiebert’s argument, carnival should rather be seen as a model for the parodic performance of identity itself, where at any given time and place, there is a set of conditions that will insure that a “self” acting or participating at that time and place will have a different meaning than it may have under other conditions (a reformulation of Bakhtin's notion of heteroglossia).

Hiebert (2003) asserts that carnival is a process whereby an individual steps into a role that mocks the limitations which are normally imposed on oneself; the individual upholds and subverts these limitations in carnival participation (ambivalent subversion of oneself). Hiebert points out that an individual always performs as both the subject and object of carnival as according to Bakhtin (1984: 12) “the people's festive laughter is also directed at those who laugh”. Although carnival is a subversion of social hierarchy, it also functions as a subversion of an individual’s place in these social structures, allowing the “ambivalent subversion of oneself.” Subversion/Nihilism of the self comes in various forms which include “becoming animal”, “becoming heteroglossic”, “becoming channel”, “becoming possessed”, “becoming xenoglossic” and “becoming glossalalic”. Becoming animal is an inverse personification where animal characteristics are taken on and performed by the human. Becoming animal is a parodic and liberating form of opening up to the carnival self, a way of “subverting the constraints of the human through the enacting of the non-human.” Becoming heteroglossic refers to a performed heteroglossia for carnivalesque participation that seeks to remove the conditions of textualised and structural meaning (cf. Mboti and Tagwirei, 2014). Hiebert argues that through a playful subversion of those conditions on which meaning is grounded, the self-reinforces the collapse of social meaning.

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Becoming channel involves “a recontextualisation of the relationship” which the self already has with existing social forces; a context in which the self ceases to become a victim of existing social structures but rather performs in it and becomes a medium that “designs one's own relationship” to those forces through the “reversal of roles between the self and the forces that possess it.” Becoming possessed is therefore an acknowledgement that one is possessed by an existing social order, which forces the self to respond to and subvert social structures that one cannot control. Becoming xenoglossic refers to a condition in which the self spontaneously speaks a foreign language without first learning it; a language which the self cannot understand itself but can only be understood by someone who already knows it. Lastly, becoming glossalalic is the ability to speak in tongues in a way that can no longer be understood; the words may not be meaningful at all, but the self experiences an ecstatic moment to be free to say anything without any barriers or conditions that block one’s free speech. Hiebert goes on to stress the ambivalence of carnival which both mocks and renews, pointing out that “the carnival laughs seriously” and therefore it is important for one to avoid taking the carnival too seriously in order to avoid a misunderstanding of the concept. On the other hand, although Hiebert acknowledges that the self is possessed by social forces in society at any given time, he does not agree with the fact that carnival is a space for the marginalised to fight against domination by the aristocracy. Although Hiebert contends that carnival has become “a free license to become”, I argue that carnival is still at the same time a "license to be free”.

However, just how free is this license offered by carnival? To what extent can one argue that carnival is indeed a “license to be free?” It is important to note the ambivalent aspect of carnival, which most of the scholars above have strongly pointed out and illustrated in their studies. Carnival festivities only take place in certain places that are allowed and reserved by the ruling class and during a particular period dictated by that very same culture being opposed by carnival; carnival is a licensed transgression that is controlled and monitored by those in power, which questions the degree to which it actually threatens an established order. Eagleton (1981: 4) cited in Deveau (2012) states that “Carnival...is a licensed affair in every sense, a permissible rupture of hegemony, a contained popular blow-off as disturbing and relatively ineffectual as a revolutionary work of art...there is no slander in an allowed fool.”

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In this regard, one can argue that this “licensing” of carnival is a form of control and exercise of power over the masses by the same ruling class which the unofficial carnival seeks to oppose; the marginalised are “allowed” to release their anger and frustrations through festive celebrations for a limited period, but the dominant forces and hierarchical structures are reinforced and continue to exist throughout the rest of the year (Deveau, 2012). Eco (1984: 6) cited in Deveau (2012) asserts that:

the modern mass-carnival is limited in space: it is reserved for certain places, certain streets, or framed by the television screen. In this sense, comedy and carnival are not instances of real transgressions: on the contrary, they represent paramount examples of law reinforcement. They remind us of the existence of the rule.

In addition, Stam (1989) suggests that Bakhtin's theory of carnival fails to “deeply theorise power relations,” (p.16). Stam points out that although all inequality is suspended in Rabelaisian carnival, in real life, ideologically unequal bodies cannot be acted upon without invoking these power imbalances. Furthermore, he suggests that carnival could be an exaggeration of the oppression which carnival goers encounter outside of the festival. He argues that carnival laughter might as well be seen as a comical acceptance of the social structures which the oppressed are subjected to. Although carnival laughter may be subversive, its life is temporary and short-lived. Moreover, Stam (1989) [like Deveau 2012] questions the universality of carnival laughter and violence, arguing that in reality violence is acted largely upon marginalised and weaker groups such as women, children, the poor, minority ethnic and religious groups and so forth. Stam also argues that Bakhtin overlooks the fact that Rabelais' audience consists of men, and there is no acknowledgement of women.

Despite these apparent limits of carnival as a form of subversion, I argue that the emergence of satirical internet memes represents a carnivalesque mode that breaks apart oppressive forms of thought, creating an ideal path for the project of emancipation. Through satirical internet memes, suppressed individuals and ordinary people subvert the established order and disregard the so called “already made truths” (dominant discourses) through laughter, grotesque and various profanities. The creation of satirical memes in Zimbabwe and elsewhere in the world, just like the carnival, represents a form of power from below (the suppressed) which emerges to

82 challenge authoritarian tendencies and to de-crown the so-called sacrosanct power of dictatorial leaders.

CONCLUSION This chapter presented the theoretical framework for the study. Bakhtin’s concept of carnival and the carnivalesque was chosen as it provides a valid framework for understanding and interpreting memes. The chapter explored Bakhtin’s theory from various perspectives and established both the significance and limitations of humour as a form of protest. The concept of carnival shall be applied in my data analysis chapter to interpret the Mugabe memes selected for this study.

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CHAPTER FOUR

RESEARCH METHODOLOGY

Introduction This study utilised the qualitative methodology, as I sought to understand how ordinary citizens use memes as a form of expression while also aiming to unravel the hidden transcripts behind the creation of those memes. The qualitative research methodology helps people to “make sense of their social worlds and how they express these understandings through language, sound, imagery, personal style and social rituals” (Deacon et al, 1999: 6). It can be argued that human beings create their own reality and they can understand what they do depending on what they believe in. In this case, I aimed to investigate how citizens created their own form of reality through memes, and interpreted texts depending with their context and beliefs. Mack et al (2005) assert that “qualitative research seeks to understand a given research problem or topic from the perspectives of the local population it involves.” The qualitative research methodology is efficacious in obtaining cultural information about the manner in which certain people behave, their attitudes, values, beliefs, opinions and social contexts (Mack et al 2005). Hence, qualitative research enables one to gain a deeper understanding of individuals within a particular context (like Zimbabwe for instance) and to find out why they behave that way (in this case the aim was to investigate why Zimbabweans created viral memes to mock and poke fun at Mugabe). The study sought to deeply explore these memes and to discover the meanings which they conveyed. Since it involves in-depth descriptions of people’s behaviours and opinions, it is important to note that qualitative research requires more time to design, collect and analyse data (Mack et al, 2005).

DATA COLLECTION I used archival research as a method of data collection in conjunction with focus groups. I combined these two methods of data collection because they both provided appropriate data that helped to answer my research questions in depth and also enhanced the credibility of my study. Archival research is the collection of data from historical records, published or unpublished material and online material, which can be available in any format, be it images, video, audio, diaries and books, amongst others (Geiger et al, 2010). When selecting particular archived data for analysis, it is

84 important to strongly consider the research questions and objectives posed in the study being carried out. The memes that I examined in this study were retrieved from social media platforms, mainly Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp. A number of Mugabe memes spread across these platforms between 2015 and 2017, especially after Mugabe’s fall at the airport in February 2015, and towards his final downfall in 2017. On Facebook, there is a page solely dedicated to Mugabe memes called Robert Mugabe Memes and similarly on Twitter, there is a handle for posting Mugabe memes titled Mugabe Memes (@Cde_Mugabe), both from where I purposively selected the memes for analysis. WhatsApp, which has become one of the most popular social media networks across the world, enables individuals to share memes with one another, and amongst groups of people with common interest. Hence, I saved some of the Mugabe memes sent to me via WhatsApp by my colleagues, so as to make it easier to recover the content.

The internet is a useful and convenient but also efficient archive for information because it effectively stores data which makes it easier to retrieve relevant, large and heterogenous samples that may be more representative of the population under study (Benfield and Szlemko, 2006. On the other hand, if information is somehow deleted from the internet by the individual who may have shared the content, then that becomes a disadvantage because deleted data is difficult to retrieve. In addition, because the internet stores large amounts of data over a short period of time, it may be difficult to determine and select the sample size from the available archived content (Benfield and Szlemko, 2006). Nonetheless, archival research [especially internet based] is an important method of gathering information because data is readily available for analysis, which may also save the researcher’s time, effort and money (Geiger et al, 2010).

Focus groups were used to gather data for this study. A focus group is a qualitative approach of collecting data in which one or two researchers and several participants meet up as a group to discuss a given research topic (Mack et al, 2005). These sessions are often tape-recorded, and sometimes videotaped. The researcher or moderator leads the discussion by asking participants to respond to open-ended questions, which require an in-depth response instead of a simple “yes” or “no” answer (Mack et al, 2005). The purpose of focus groups is to centre discussion on a particular

85 issue. They can be formal or informal gatherings of a diverse group of people who may not know each other, but who might be thought to share a common interest, concern or experience in issues (Bell, 2010). The goal is for participants to interact with each other, listen to all views, and perhaps to reach consensus about some aspects of the topic or to disagree about others and to express their own views concerning issues which seem to be interesting or important to them (Bell, 2010).

I purposively selected a cohort of ordinary Zimbabweans from different “carnival” sites with whom I discussed with Mugabe memes that went viral on social media. Such sites included selected university campuses, urban market areas, and hair salons. I selected four (4) focus groups from these various carnival sites, with each group comprising six (6) individuals [Zimbabwean individuals based in South Africa]. This number increased the opportunity for varied inputs regarding the topic under study. Moreover, four focus groups were enough to reach saturation for their inductive thematic analysis. A sample size of four focus groups likely identified about 90% (Guest et al, 2016) of important themes on a topic – including those most widely shared – in a study with citizens who I assumed would have lots to say about former president Mugabe. Moreover, I chose to conduct focus groups with “powerless” Zimbabweans living in South Africa because they have come “in contact with each other” (Bakhtin 1984b:10) due to the country’s socio-economic problems and collectively they share a body of experiences about being uprooted.

One major advantage of focus groups is that they yield a large amount of information over a relatively short period. They are also effective for accessing a wide array of views on a particular topic, as opposed to achieving group consensus. Laws (2003: 299) suggests that focus groups are indeed valuable when in-depth information is needed “about how people think about an issue – their reasoning about why things are as they are, why they hold the views they do.” But, like any other data collection method, focus groups have limitations. Bell (2010) argues that if a focus group is imbalanced in relation to the age, sex and ethnic status of respondents, those in the minority may feel socially constrained and not contribute freely to the discussion, as the atmosphere would be less permissive and less relaxed. Moreover, depending with where the discussion may be held, outside observers might be present during the

86 focus group session and this may inhibit participants from speaking freely, (Mack et al, 2005).

SAMPLING The study focused on purposively selected viral Mugabe memes shared on Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp. Not only are these platforms major social media platforms through which memes diffuse easily and rapidly, but they are popular amongst many Zimbabweans. Images were selected for analysis. Purposive sampling is one of the most common non-probability sampling methods in which subjects are grouped depending on preselected criteria that are significant to a particular research, (MacDougall and Fudge, 2001). The objectives of this study determined the sample size to be selected. Purposive sample sizes are usually determined based on theoretical saturation, that is, the point in data collection, where new information can no longer give extra insight to the research question (Savenye and Robinson, 2003). In purposive sampling, the probability that a particular sampling unit will be selected as part of the sample mostly depends on the researcher’s subjective judgment. Hence, it is rather difficult to determine why a researcher judges the selected sampling unit as being representative of the whole population which also makes it hard to determine the possibility of inclusion of any particular sampling unit (Frankfort-Nachmias and Nachmias, 2008). Nevertheless, purposive sampling allows the researcher to actively select the most productive sample relevant to the study being carried out, a sample that will most probably answer the research questions involved. Out of a total of 113 Mugabe memes posted between 2015 and 2017 on Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp, I selected 13 memes for analysis, which would most likely address my research questions. Some of the memes from the total of 113 were pro-Mugabe memes, hence I did not consider these since my study focuses mainly on anti-Mugabe memes. Most of the anti-Mugabe memes which I came across carried the same kind of theme or content, and hence I had to select a few that represented the various themes which I generated from them, as it would not make sense to select a lot of memes containing similar content.

DATA ANALYSIS Data was analysed by means of textual and thematic analysis in conjunction with semiotic analysis. Textual analysis is one of the principal methods used by media

87 researchers to understand how meaning is generated from various media texts. A text is anything from which meaning can be made. Images were treated as texts in this study. McKee (2003: 1) points out that textual analysis is a process of gathering data used by researchers who aim “to understand the ways in which members of various cultures and subcultures make sense of who they are and of how they fit into the world in which they live.” When doing textual analysis, the researcher makes the most possible interpretations that are likely to originate from that text. In this case, I used textual analysis to make interpretations that would likely emanate from the Mugabe memes which I examined. Texts are interpreted in an attempt to find the different possible ways in which audiences interpret reality. This helps us to better understand our own cultures, because different people from diverse cultures see and experience things differently and hence interpret the world from various perspectives (McKee, 2003). It is important to note that the term “various cultures” does not only refer to cultures from different nations but may also refer to various subcultures within one nation (McKee, 2003), which is the case in this study as I conducted focus groups only with Zimbabweans in order to obtain the various ways in which they interpreted Mugabe memes.

Thematic analysis is a qualitative process of identifying and analysing various themes within given data. Braun and Clarke (2006) note that themes are capable of capturing significant aspects about data in relation to the research questions and/ objectives and they also represent a certain level of patterned response or meaning within the data set. Braun and Clarke (2006) explain and differentiate two theme levels, namely semantic and latent. Semantic themes “…exist within the explicit or surface meanings of the data and the analyst is not looking for anything beyond what a participant has said or what has been written.” On the other hand, the latent level focuses on the deeper meanings of the data and “…examines the underlying ideas, assumptions, and conceptualisations – and ideologies - that are theorised as shaping or informing the semantic content of the data” (Braun and Clarke, 2006: 84).

Moreover, Braun and Clarke (2006) present six phases of thematic analysis, which I further explained and employed in my study. In the first phase, I familiarised myself with a selected sample of memes in the form of images as well as information obtained from the focus groups to be carried out. The second phase focused on generating

88 initial codes, which resulted in the creation of various major themes and sub-themes. Braun and Clarke (2006) point out that coding involves the process of organising data into significant groups. It involves identifying important elements within a set of data and taking note of it earlier before interpreting the text. The third phase involves searching for themes and at this stage, I analysed the generated codes which may be linked with one another, depending on how they relate to each other, to create a theme (Braun and Clarke, 2006). I then derived a collection of various themes along with the appropriate data.

In the next phase, I reviewed these themes, selecting the relevant ones and discarding those which did not have adequate data to support them. The fifth phase involves the process of defining and naming the themes, taking into consideration Braun and Clarke’s view that names for themes must be brief and should clearly put across what each theme is about. The final phase involves the process of presenting the themes in a brief, comprehensive and coherent style which relates to the research questions identified in Chapter 1 of this study. The advantage of conducting thematic analysis is that it “provides a flexible and useful research tool, which can potentially provide a rich and detailed, yet complex account of data,” (Braun and Clarke, 2006: 77). Moreover, thematic analysis is an easy and fairly straight-forward method of qualitative analysis that may not require detailed theoretical or technical knowledge like other approaches do (Braun and Clarke, 2006). However, thematic analysis also has potential shortcomings such as the fact that it “has limited interpretative power beyond mere description if it is not used within an existing theoretical framework that anchors the analytic claims that are made” (Braun and Clarke, 2006: 98). Furthermore, in relation to other qualitative data analysis methods, currently thematic analysis is rarely acknowledged as an analytic method because it is “poorly demarcated” and does not allow one to talk about use of language and so forth (Braun and Clarke, 2006), which is why I used the method in conjunction with other analytic methods.

Semiotic analysis was also used as a method of analysing data in this research, since the technique examines how signs and symbols (in the form of memes) are manipulated to create meaning. Individuals (Zimbabweans) manipulate various signs and symbols to create and convey a certain preferred meaning which delegitimizes dominant discourses in order to promote their own ideas which challenge state power.

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Semiotics can be referred to as “a science that studies the life of signs within society” (de Saussure, 1966: 16). According to Gaines (2010: 35), “the role of semiotics is to study the relationships between signs and the objects, ideas, events, and meanings that they stand for, and also to understand how signs produce other signs that determine meanings that translate into the actions of interpreters.” Thus, semiotics is the study of the characteristics that constitute a sign and the laws that govern the construction of meaning. A sign can be referred to as anything from which meaning can be derived and therefore signs may come in the form of words, images, audio, videos or anything on which meaning can be attached (Chandler, 2001). Hence, this study takes Mugabe memes as signs and symbols on which various meanings can be attached.

De Saussure (1966) argues that a sign is made up of the signifier and the signified. Signifier refers to the material or physical form which a sign takes and signified refers to the concept or idea which the sign stands for (de Saussure, 1966). Therefore, the signifier and signified relate to each other through a process called signification, and for meaning to occur, the signifier must combine with the signified. Moreover, de Saussure argues that a linguistic sign is completely arbitrary which means that there is no natural connection between a signifier and a signified. Thus, this may suggest that there is no natural relationship between these Mugabe memes and what they actually stand for, which allows individuals to manipulate and attach varied meanings to those memes. Semiotics therefore focuses on the construction of meaning through language and it involves the unpacking of meaning from various signs, which depends on an individual’s socio-cultural background including age, gender, education level, race, beliefs and values amongst other factors. In my study, I unpacked the various hidden meanings from selected Mugabe memes considering the socio-economic and political context in which the memes are created. Du Plooy (2011) suggests two semiotic frameworks that can be employed when conducting semiotic analysis; one for text and language and the other for image analysis. I employed both these frameworks in order to obtain more information on the various functions and meanings of Mugabe memes posted on social media, so as to successfully answer my research questions.

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De Saussure (1966) uses the word langue to refer to the abstract rules and structures governing a code, which come from social interaction and then uses the term parole to refer to the act of using a code. Parole is the level at which meaning is constructed. Codes enable individuals to make sense of signs, and according to Fiske (1987: 4), “a code is a rule governed system of a sign, whose rules are shared amongst members of a culture and which is used to generate and circulate meaning within that culture.” Language is an example of a code which enables individuals to make sense of what goes on around them, and Chandler (2001: 25) argues that, “language does not reflect reality but rather constructs it.” In this case, I explored how Zimbabweans use memetic language as a code to construct several versions of reality that counter already existing truths about Mugabe. Hall (1997) argues that the media re-present events to audiences and in doing so, they attach meaning to those events while aiming to influence preferred reading of the text.

This study therefore explored how the creators of Mugabe memes use memetic language to re-present certain imagery whilst attaching meaning to it with the aim of influencing a preferred reading of those memes. Semiotic analysis is an effective tool for analysing visual meaning in images and videos (Rose, 2001). However, whilst acknowledging the importance of semiotics in analysing and interpreting signs, one should also take into account the limitations posed by this method. Since an individual derives meaning based upon one’s socio-cultural context, it is difficult to determine what the actual interpretation of the sign could be as various readers may attach varied meanings to it (Rose, 2001). In other words, one’s interpretation of a sign remains subjective, yet within a different context that text could signify something else which means that results may not be generalisable.

The study also made use of tables for purposes of data presentation since I collected a lot of information from the focus group discussions which I conducted. Tables help to present complex information clearly and to organise a large amount of data in a confined manner. Tabulation made it easier for me to present the data which I then used for analysis and interpretation. Each table was numbered, with a title derived from the focus group questions which I asked the participants of the study. Tabulation enabled the presentation of my findings to be more organised, tidy and less saturated.

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ETHICAL CONSIDERATIONS Bell (2010) points out that every researcher is bound to consider various ethical issues that may emerge during research activities. Firstly, this study abided by all ethical considerations as specified in the Code of Academic and Research Ethics Document of the University of Johannesburg. The participants involved in this research were fully aware of and understood exactly what the study entailed, to enable them to decide whether to participate or not (Bell, 2010); hence, participants were informed prior to the research. In order to guarantee informed consent, participants were required to give their permission by signing a consent form, which specified that they would be involved in the research, based on adequate knowledge about the study and what the study involved.

Furthermore, participants had the freedom to withdraw from the research at any given time and for any reason. In addition, according to Bell (2010), one of the most important ethical issues in research is protecting participants from harm. Hence, I ensured that participants are not exposed to any harm, and that their privacy and confidentiality is protected by granting anonymity and confidentiality where necessary. I did not use participants’ real names, in which case I made use of pseudonyms, unless the participants wished otherwise. Moreover, it is important to note that it may be difficult to carry out group discussions amongst both legal and illegal immigrants as they may be afraid to express themselves openly, hence to address this situation I conducted the focus groups within a space where they felt comfortable to openly discuss their views without any outside observers interfering or listening to them.

CONCLUSION This chapter presented the research methodology to be employed in my study. I explained in detail the data collection methods, sampling strategy, unit of analysis and methods of data analysis to be utilised in this study, whilst also giving the strengths and limitations of these methods. In addition, I highlighted the ethical issues that are likely to be involved whilst conducting my study. In the next chapter, I shall present, analyse and interpret my findings.

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CHAPTER FIVE

DATA PRESENTATION, INTERPRETATION AND ANALYSIS

Introduction The previous chapter discussed the methodological procedure which was followed in this research. In this chapter and the next one, I presented, interpreted and analysed the findings of my study. The chapter discussed what these findings meant in relation to the objectives of this research. As mentioned in my methodology chapter, data was analysed by means of thematic analysis, textual analysis and semiotic analysis. The selected memes were interpreted through the lens of Bakhtinian carnival, which happened to be the theoretical framework for my study. This chapter aimed to establish, assess and evaluate the various reasons behind the creation and virality of Mugabe memes on selected social media platforms. In addition, I established the variety of meanings attached to the memes by social media users themselves, mainly Zimbabweans amongst whom I conducted focus groups. This chapter demonstrated how carnival offers an opportunity – seemingly for fleeting moments – to experience a “second life”.

In terms of this second life, citizens whose whole lives subsist in an authoritarian environment such as the one obtaining in Zimbabwe in the period under review can at least taste the “beauty of freedom” by expressing their views more or less openly, while at the same time subtly “overthrowing” and disrespecting official boundaries and mainstream discourses. This is achieved mainly through the means and offices of festive laughter, grotesque imagery and other carnivalesque elements. As both chapters progressively revealed, the various grotesque elements used in Mugabe memes include degradation, crowning and decrowning, a topsy-turvy world, travesty, use of billingsgate language, sarcasm/ irony, suspension of normal rules of behaviour and madness, amongst others. An interesting finding is that the coup that overthrew Mugabe in November 2017 could have been long preceded by his symbolic overthrow on social media.

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SETTING THE SCENE As noted in the previous chapter, I selected four focus groups from a selection of different “carnival sites” which included hair salons, the University of Johannesburg’s Kingsway campus, and the Johannesburg central business district and environs, which include urban market areas. Each focus group comprised six participants, all of whom were Zimbabweans based in Johannesburg. In all, therefore, my study comprised 24 participants. As stated, conducting these focus groups enabled me to identify the various meanings which social media users attach to Mugabe memes, as well as to identify the important themes associated with these memes. Most the participants had seen most of the Mugabe memes that I put before them. A few were seeing them for the first time. The data below shows that most of the participants accessed the memes on Facebook and WhatsApp. The least number had accessed the memes on Twitter. As explained earlier in chapter 1, WhatsApp has become a more popular venue, when compared to Facebook and Twitter (which are semi-public spaces), due to its encryption technologies which make it difficult for one to be traced for creating and sharing anti-Mugabe memes.

Facebook WhatsApp Twitter 42 % 48 % 10 %

Table 1: Most popular platform for accessing Mugabe memes, by numbers of participants

For coding, presentation and analysis purposes, I named each focus group numerically, depending on the order in which each one was conducted. Hence, I ended up with FG1 (hair salon 1), FG2 (hair salon 2), FG3 (UJ campus) and FG4 (urban market area). FG1 comprised six women between the ages of 25 and 40, with four hairdressers and two manicurists working at a salon in Florida. FG2 consisted of four women, three hairdressers and a manicurist, and two men, both barbers, all working at a salon in the central Johannesburg business district. All were between the ages of 21 and 35. FG3 comprised six Zimbabwean students from the UJ Kingsway campus, between the ages of 20 and 23, all undergraduates. Three were males and three females. FG4 comprised six men between the ages of 24 and 38, two of them working as bus drivers, one a conductor and three vendors. These six I found either at the bus terminus where individuals board buses to and from

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Zimbabwe, or the adjoining market area in central Johannesburg where vendors daily hawk their wares. The participants were each be named as Participant A to Participant F, since each focus group comprises six people, all of whom remain anonymous. In terms of gender, therefore, the focus group participants consisted of a total of thirteen (13) women and eleven (11) men.

Total number of participants in study 24 Total number of women participants 13 Total number of male participants 11 Nationality of participants Zimbabwean Number of participants working in South 24 Africa (legally and illegally) Number of participants just visiting None (temporarily) in South Africa Table 2: Biographical data of focus group participants

Year arrived in South Number of participants Number of years resident Africa in South Africa 2005 2 13 2008 7 10 2010 4 8 2015 6 3 2017 5 2 Table 3: Length of stay in South Africa

Occupation Number of participants Vendors 3 Hair-dressers 7 Barbers 2 Bus drivers 2 Bus conductors 1 Students 6 Other 3 Table 4: Distribution by current occupations in South Africa

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Occupation Number of participants Students 8 Bus Drivers 2 Hair-dressers 3 Teachers 3 Shop owners/ assistants 4 Vendors 1 Other 3 Table 5: Occupations in Zimbabwe (before coming to South Africa)

Place of stay in Zimbabwe Number of participants 8 Bulawayo 7 Mutare 2 Gweru 2 Masvingo 1 Other 4 Table 6: Distribution by place of origin in Zimbabwe

Language (Vernacular) Number of participants Shona 15 Ndebele 7 Other 2 Table 7: Linguistic data (Note that some participants speak several languages)

Ethnic group Number of participants Shona 15 Ndebele 7 Other 2 Table 8: Biographical data by ethnicity (Note that ethnic belonging was by self- identification)

The biographical data represented above shows that most of the participants have lived in South Africa for over two years and that the most number arrived in 2008, during the period of Zimbabwe’s worst economic crisis. These participants, and others who arrived before them, have been resident in South Africa for as long as a decade,

96 and state that they have no intention of going back home anytime soon, which suggests that the Zimbabwean socio-economic crisis has been prevalent for over ten years now, with little or no change. It would appear, therefore, that most economic refugees have lost hope that this catastrophe will one day come to an end. Even after Mugabe’s fall from power in 2017, these citizens have no immediate plans to go back to their country. The economic situation, after a false start, reverted to the norm and things got marginally worse than before.

Most of the participants report to having different occupations in South Africa than the ones they had back home. For instance, in Zimbabwe, some of them were teachers, shop owners, and shop assistants. Others were college students. In South Africa, however, they do all kinds of work that bring a livelihood. In urban Shona slang, the term that describes this drastic change in occupations is “rese-rese” (anything goes). Teachers and former shop owners have become hairdressers, barbers, vendors or bus conductors. Widespread unemployment, eroded outcomes, a non-existent social safety net and poverty in Zimbabwe resulted in the much publicised brain drain. On the one hand, the study suggested that the brain drain is showing no signs of abating. On the other hand, it showed that the brain drain lands Zimbabweans into jobs that do not require any “brain” to perform. Rather, the jobs they find in South Africa are low paying, semi-skilled jobs. Individuals capable of contributing valuable input to Zimbabwe (and, indeed, to South Africa) are stuck in economic limbo, unable to go back home but also unable to advance in South Africa. The search for greener pastures goes on even after crossing the border. Interestingly, though most are struggling to survive while in South Africa, they felt that it was better to stay here and find ways of making money than go back home to “sit and do nothing”. This metamorphosis in occupations illustrates not just the extent of Zimbabwe’s crisis, but how much the crisis has been a social and personal disaster for millions of adults and their families. The crisis has drawn formerly stable breadwinners into the “rese-rese” web of a precarious existence. The precarity is worse in cases where the Zimbabweans are in South Africa illegally. The insight I got from the discussions of occupations is that Zimbabweans felt that Mugabe was personally responsible for their precarious existence in South Africa. This, I speculated, tended to lend an edge of anger to their responses about anti-Mugabe memes.

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The biographical data also shows that most of the participants originally came from Zimbabwe’s two major cities, the capital Harare, and the second capital Bulawayo. However, general extrapolation shows that there are citizens from almost every part of Zimbabwe present in South Africa, including those from smaller cities such as Gweru, Masvingo, Mutare and many others. This reflects that the economic crisis in Zimbabwe has touched every corner of the country and thus led to the current exodus. The crisis is also more or less homogenous. Most people are in South Africa for a livelihood. This constraints their choices about what work to do, but also about their ability to reinvent themselves anew. They constantly chafe about their condition as (illegal) migrants in South Africa, and about the discrimination they face on a day to day basis. Again, this condition is blamed on Mugabe. Again, the “blame Mugabe” impulse shows up in the passionate nature of the comments later on. The precarious life of Zimbabweans in South Africa indicates a real sadness and anguish underlying the humour. Also, the sarcasm of the memes is shared and consumed in a spirit of regret, anger and despair – but also resilience. There may thus be a need to consider other future studies to look at psychological health of these Zimbabweans to flag it for trauma and for resilience. I got hints that many Zimbabweans are traumatised. This trauma colours the interpretation to the memes.

In terms of linguistic and ethnic data, most of the participants identified themselves as Shona, others were Ndebele, and a few belonged to other ethnic groups that were unspecified. This is an interesting aspect in that many Ndebeles do not just blame Mugabe for their economic woes, but also for Gukurahundi and for a generalised policy of neglect of Matabeleland since the 1980s. Basically, Ndebeles are found in the position of the marginal “Other” in Zimbabwe. If they are othered in South Africa, this would represent a double jeopardy – a double othering. They are marginalised in Zimbabwe, only to come to South Africa to be further marginalised. Interestingly, Shona interlocutors tend to restrict their antipathy to Mugabe to two main issues: the economic meltdown, and political repression and electoral fraud since the formation of the MDC in 1999. Ndebeles, on the other hand, have at least three issues of the economy, Gukurahundi, and marginalisation. The fourth issues of repression of opposition politics is sometimes added, since it is also relevant to Matabeleland. A final interesting point with regards to the interpretation of the biographical data is that Ndebeles indicate to feeling more at home in Johannesburg than Shonas do. This is

98 partly because the Ndebele language is much closer to South Africa’s Nguni’s languages, whereas Shona is not. The integration is thus seamless at a linguistic level, and also in terms of cultural affinities such as in music taste (For instance, South African Kwaito, House music and Gqom are very popular in Bulawayo). When South Africans refer to kwerekwere languages from the north of the Limpopo, they seem to refer to Shona more than Ndebele. It is plausible that during bouts of xenophobia, Shonas with an imperfect grasp of Nguni languages can be identified as kwerekweres more readily than Ndebeles. Ndebele people also claim to have come from South Africa during the Mfecane, and thus South Africa is “home” too. That said, all Zimbabweans, particularly those without “papers” are marginalised in the same way by the authorities. I am making all these points in order to anticipate the underlying motivations in the responses to Mugabe, and the implications of this for the affective content, tone and political accent of the anti-Mugabe jibes.

The questions in the focus groups started by probing general questions about Robert Mugabe and the fact that he had ruled Zimbabwe for 37 years – which was as long as all of the participants could remember. Was he a bad president or a good one? The participants’ views and reasons for their answers varied. For instance, in FG1, Participant E responded that Mugabe was an unreservedly bad president, and gave the reason that he was a corrupt leader who presided over a corrupt system, looted the country’s resources and made poor decisions that destroyed the economy. Mugabe was here taken to be the representative if the whole ZANU-PF system which he was head of. Thus the term “Mugabe” meant Mugabe himself as an individual but also the Mugabeist system. This is the meaning behind the claim about corrupt system. Every manifestation of corruption was traced back to its “father”. Essentially, the logic is that a fish rots from the head. Mugabe is that head. There was a refusal to separate Mugabe from the system or to separate the system from Mugabe. When participant E (FG1) added that Mugabe was a bad leader who clung to power for a very long time and had no intentions to give his position to someone else, he means Mugabe the individual – the one that Zimbabweans would refer to as Baba Bona (Father of Bona, his oldest child and only daughter), in the same way that Jacob Zuma in South Africa was trolled by the Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) as Baba kaDuduzane (Father of Duduzane). Participant B (FG2) mentioned that he was a bad president because he terrorised people who opposed him publicly and blatantly

99 scorned anyone who challenged his authority. This response reflects the convergence of Mugabe as Baba Bona (the individual) and Mugabe as a System. Participant B in FG3 explained that President Mugabe was a cold-hearted leader who was not only insensitive to his people’s plight, but also violated people’s rights and instilled fear in them. For Participant D (FG3), “no tyrant can ever be regarded as a good president, Mugabe was a bully who claimed to be appointed by God in an effort to stop anyone from questioning his authority. That on its own makes him a bad president.” These responses show antipathy both to Mugabe and to the system he presided over. I link the aggressive nature of the dislike of Mugabe to the reasons given above – that Zimbabweans in South Africa blamed Mugabe and his government for their current woes. Mugabe was a pantomime villain. For most of these participants, there was no good in him. His successes, particularly in the first decade of his rule, were either forgotten, ignored or denied. As we will see, the participants who did not see any good in Mugabe were also the ones most supportive of the use of memes to poke fun at the president.

However, a few participants did not share the rabid dislike of Mugabe. Rather there was more nuance and balance in their estimation of his role as leader. As noted in Chapter 1, it is quite typical for Mugabe to divide opinion. As Tendi (2011: 308) has asserted, Mugabe was “the independence struggle hero who seemed initially a progressive egalitarian, [but] gradually became toxic through his attachment to power.” Participant A in FG1, for instance, stated that Mugabe was a good president, for the reason that Zimbabwe has a high literacy rate and a very good education system. The literacy rate happens to be one of the highest in Africa, according to UNESCO. This, said the participant, was all thanks to Mugabe. The participant added that although Mugabe was a cruel man who also ruined the country’s economy, he had to be given credit for some things such as keeping the country’s education system at a high standard. This participant clearly did not think that Mugabe was a kind of absolute evil. Rather, there was some good in him. It was harder for this participant, however, to evaluate or weigh the good or to show empirically how Mugabe was responsible for the quality of the education system, or to show that the education system had not collapsed like most other sectors. The fact that former teachers are now working as bus conductors and barbers may suggest that the education system has lost human resources due to the brain drain. Such losses are bound to be reflected in the quality

100 of education being dispensed. Certainly, it is not true that the Zimbabwean education system has remained unaffected by the socio-economic meltdown. In FG2, Participant E said that despite all the bad things associated with Mugabe’s rule, and his abuse of power, he was still a hero in the sense that he played a major role in enabling the country to attain independence. This participant not only remembers what the others appear to have forgotten, but broadens his consideration of Mugabe’s qualities to extend to his indelible contribution to Zimbabwe’s liberation from colonialism. Participant E (FG2) added that Mugabe’s tried and tested patriotism demonstrated his loyalty and love for his nation, which made him a good president. The study found a correlation between finding redeeming qualities in Mugabe and lack of enthusiasm for anti-Mugabe memes.

In keeping with the polarising figure that Mugabe is, Participant B in FG4 was not only approving of Mugabe but defended his actions. He stated that President Mugabe was a wise and bold leader who refused to become a puppet of the West. For this participant, the fact that Mugabe shunned immoral and unchristian behaviour such as homosexuality shows that he was a principled leader:

Isu hatibvumire hunhu husina musoro sehungochani, chero mubhaibheri chaimo hazvibvumirwe. saka kana paine chimwe chinhu chairatidza kuti vaMugabe vanga vari mhunu akanaka, kurambidza ngochani kuti dzingombeya madiro munyika medu, hapana chinondisemesa sekuona murume achitsvodana nemumwe murume.

We can never allow foolish behaviour like homosexuality, even the Bible condemns it. So the fact that Mugabe forbade homosexuals from expressing themselves freely in our country shows that Mugabe was a good person. Nothing disgusts me more than seeing a man kissing another man.

This participant, in concert with his national president, found homosexuality to be abhorrent, and to be an affront to his values. Mugabe publicly expressed his condemnation towards homosexuals, proclaiming that, “It is not worthy of discussion. Those that engage in such acts are insane. We cannot tolerate this, otherwise the dead will rise against us”. The response by participant B shows that economic and political questions were not the only ones that figured into the assessment of Mugabe. Personal, cultural and social values were also important. The contested concept of

101 hunhu/Ubuntu (cf. Mboti, 2015), for instance, was invoked. However, the most predominant reasons were economic and political. In the actual discussion of the memes themselves, however, the distinctions blurred into each other. Everything could be explained in political terms. Indeed, we can see that even the question of homosexuality was explained in terms of Western imperialism.

Many of the participants could list at least three bad things that they associated with Mugabe’s rule. The breakdown, by focus group, is as follows:

Thing 1 Thing 2 Thing 3 Other A Cruel Destroyed the Selfish economy B Murderer Greedy Terrorised innocent people C Abused power Caused poverty and Violated people’s unemployment rights D Killed a lot of people Clung to power for a Kept wealth only for Suppressed very long time his family and his people’s ZANU officials freedom E Cruel Corruption Punished those who criticised him F Damaged the economy Oppressed his people Heartless We lived in fear FG1: Can you each list at least three bad things that you associate with Mugabe’s rule?

Thing 1 Thing 2 Thing 3 Other A Ruthless Greedy Dictator B Ruined the country Evil – killed people Terrorised those who opposed him C Killed innocent people Did not allow anyone Responsible for the We were to oppose him country’s poor afraid of economy him D Cruel Blocked freedom of Refused to step down Drove out speech from power white people violently E Caused unemployment Inconsiderate Committed a lot of Abused and damaged the crimes e.g. his power economy corruption, murder, torture F Uncaring Corruption People lived in fear because of his cruelty FG2: List of at least three bad things that you associate with Mugabe’s rule

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Thing 1 Thing 2 Thing 3 Other A Dictator Ruthless Caused economic Restricted meltdown freedom of expression B Cold-hearted Destroyed the Abused power Violated economy human rights C Greedy Dictator Blocked freedom of Callous expression D Uncaring Extremist Committed many Tyrant atrocities who was feared by people E Insensitive Selfish Clung to power for too Terrorised long people F Tyrant Inconsiderate Judgmental Corruption FG3: List of at least three bad things that you associate with Mugabe’s rule

Thing 1 Thing 2 Thing 3 Other A Greedy Murderer Terrorised the opposition B Cruel Terrorist Damaged the country C Destroyed people’s Greedy Cruel lives and our economy D Did not want anyone Evil Suppressed freedom He made else to rule us live in fear E Ruined the economy He didn’t care about Killed a lot of us innocent people F Corruption Selfish Destroyed the Cruel economy FG4: List of at least three bad things that you associate with Mugabe’s rule

The tabulated data sought to elicit answers about what participants’ gripe with Mugabe was. The answers were split between Mugabe’s personal failures, on the one hand, and his leadership and managerial shortcomings. Other answers fell in between. In terms of the personal dimension, many participants thought of Mugabe as a ruthless, corrupt, greedy and selfish megalomaniac, who thrived on a cult of personality built around him by ZANU PF and the state media. Mugabe was a man who could do as he liked and as he pleased. He could take whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Megalomania and self-centredness was said to have been represented by such acts as renaming the Harare International airport to Robert Mugabe International airport. The most frequent keywords in the “personal failings” dimension were: cruelty;

103 heartlessness; ruthlessness; cold-heartedness; and selfishness. The Murambatsvina Operation of 2005 that declared the Zimbabwean poor to be “dirt” and led to mass demolitions of their homes, was cited as an example of Mugabe’s cruelty. The other, of course, was Gukurahundi. On the leadership plane, Mugabe was seen as a dictator who destroyed the country’s economy, and who presided over atrocities, silenced the opposition, and suppressed constitutional freedoms and rights. The mystery of the missing US$15 billion worth of diamonds remains the clearest aspect of economic mismanagement and corruption of the Mugabe reign. The most frequent labels were: failed economy; unemployment; poverty; violation of rights; and lack of freedoms. In the views of some participants, the personal and the public, and the personal and the political, blurred when it came to Mugabe. For instance, it was alleged that Mugabe used his immense power to loot state resources for himself and his acquaintances via an extensive system of patronage. As Participant D in FG1 stated, Mugabe “kept wealth only for his family and his ZANU-PF officials”. Allegations of multiple farm ownership, Grace Mugabe’s power grab and land grabbing in Mazowe, and the circulation of videos and images of Mugabe’s two sons at expensive parties, drinking champagne and spending money, all lent credence to the accusations of keeping “wealth only for his family”.

Perhaps not surprisingly, some of the participants described Mugabe as a mad, heartless and cruel despot, who found joy in inflicting pain on his people – a kind of Hitler. This was the view, for instance, of Participant B from FG1 who stated that:

Akekho normal uMugabe, uyahlanya uSatan lowa, njalo uyangesabisa kakhulu. Ngabaleka eZimbabwe lendoda yami ngo2008, ngesikhathi lapha izinto zibheda,sokusiza ama elections. Amanye amadoda, ngicabanga ngama CIO kaMugabe, batshaya indoda yami ngoba besithi ngowe MDC, angisoze ngakhohlwa indlela abamhlukuluza ngayo bemtshela ukuthi uzokufa engabe lokhe esenza abantu bevotele iMDC. Cabanga ubuhlungu akuzwayo, yikho sacina sisiza egoli ukuthi sizoqala impilo entsha, khatshana loMugabe lezinja bakhe. Wambona ngaphi umuntu ohlukuluza abantu abamhlanekelayo? uMugabe ngusatan and angifuni ukuzwa ngaye ngoba noma iZANU-PF yakhe, bonke ngosatan.

Mugabe is not normal, that devil/Satan is mad, and he frightens me a lot. I ran away from Zimbabwe with my husband in 2008 when the situation was terrible towards elections. These men, I presume Mugabe’s CIOs, beat up my husband because he was an MDC member. I will never forget the way they terrorised him telling him that

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he would die if he continued advising people to vote for MDC. Imagine the pain that he felt, and this is what made us move to Joburg to start a new life, away from Mugabe and his lapdogs. Where have you seen someone who terrorises people for challenging him? Mugabe is a devil and I don’t want to hear about him nor his ZANU-PF, they are all devils.

For this participant, her hate for Mugabe was personal as her family had experienced his brutal rule in a quite personal way. Of course, Mugabe had himself (in)famously boasted to having degrees in violence. As we will see, for peoples such as this participant, they both feared and loathed Mugabe.

Mugabe, in response to death rumours about him, once claimed to be more superior than Jesus as he declared that “I have died many times. I have actually beaten Jesus Christ because he only died once.”20 Participant E (FG2) explained that she thus begun fearing Mugabe “when he started saying things like he was better than Jesus. Anyone who has the guts to say things like that is frightening because the next thing he was going to declare himself as God and we would be forced to bow down to him.” Mugabe’s alleged selfish megalomania was also linked, of course, to his dictatorial clinging to power, as Participant D (FG4) points out. Mugabe did not want anyone else to rule Zimbabwe, a country he saw as his own personal possession. Indeed, up until the time he was forced to step down from power, he had still claimed that there was “only one centre of power” in Zimbabwe and refused to name his successor in ZANU PF. At 94, the octogenarian did not show any intention to step down. Indeed, his wife Grace claimed that Mugabe would still rule Zimbabwe even while in wheelchair or wheelbarrow. She even claimed, bizarrely, that Zimbabweans would still vote for Mugabe even after the President’s death. In fact, ZANU-PF had already instilled him as the party’s presidential candidate for the 2018 presidential election. The Youth League had successfully pushed a motion for Mugabe to be anointed President-For- Life. A “democratically” elected president, Mugabe thus used his own brand of Machiavellianism to keep himself in power. Apart from entrenching networks of patronage in ZANU-PF, and using the “one centre of power” principle, Mugabe made sure to stifle the same democracy that he claimed to be the source of his power. Allegations of electoral fraud and rigging tainted every election since 2000. At the

20The Huffington Post (2017-11-22). “I have beaten Christ: These are Robert Mugabe’s craziest quotes”, https://www.huffingtonpost.co.za/2017/11/22/i-have-beaten-christ-these-are-robert-mugabes-craziest- quotes_a_23285023/, Accessed 15 July 2018.

105 same time, he silenced “traitors” inside ZANU-PF and labelled the opposition MDC as terrorists and puppets of the West.

Some participants, such as Participant C (FG1), stated that they were motivated to loathe Mugabe because of his track record of abuses and brutality, likening Mugabe to Satan and wishing him ill: “Mugabe ndiye satan chaiye. Handisati ndamboona mhunu anehutsinye kudaro muhupenyu hwangu. Akauraya vanhu vakawandisa vasina mhosva, and zvanga zvisingamurwadze. Paanofa anoenda kugehena chete, ndokwake chaiko/ Mugabe is the devil himself. I have never seen such a ruthless person in my life. He killed a lot of innocent people, and it never pained him. When he dies he is going to hell, that’s where he belongs.” Participant C (FG3) had this to say:

Mugabe is no different from Hitler. I remember from History how Hitler murdered thousands of Jews, without even blinking twice. He was so callous and evil that he enjoyed making innocent people suffer, and that’s exactly what Mugabe is like. He is the Hitler of our time, and he takes pride in causing pain to his own people without taking responsibility for it. That man is demonic and inhuman, and as a young Zimbabwean I totally despise him.

Some of the participants considered Mugabe to be the devil incarnate, considering all the atrocities he had presided over whilst in power, while denying any or all responsibility.

Interestingly, the item least cited as an explanation for the negative attitude towards Mugabe was the issue of Mugabe violently driving out white farmers. This point was a major cause of the bilateral spat between Harare and London, and a trigger to economic and political sanctions that the Zimbabwean government blame for the economic crisis. On the other hand, the issue of Gukurahundi, though it predated the FTLRP by more than a decade, was still discussed as a reason for labelling Mugabe cruel and ruthless. More than twenty years later, Gukurahundi remains a sensitive topic of debate, particularly amongst the Ndebele. Mugabe refused to take full responsibility for what he referred to as a “moment of madness”.21 The Murambatsvina

21Newsday (2018-03-17). “Mugabe rapped over Gukurahundi utterances – Ndlovu, Nqobani”, https://www.newsday.co.zw/2018/03/mugabe-rapped-over-gukurahundi-utterances/, Accessed 20 September 2018.

106 issue was also remembered, although mostly by Shona speakers from Harare. I suspect that, had I spoken to white Zimbabweans, the issue of the expulsion of white farmers might have figured more. As it is, the discussions any significant racial dimension. What is interesting is that the link between the economic collapse and the FTLRP was not explicitly made and, indeed, was a marginal issue in the whole discussion. Many commentators, particularly Mugabe’s West-leaning detractors, however, finger the land seizures as the sole or most important cause of Zimbabwe’s downward spiral. This is a plausible explanation if one considers the timing of the FTLRP and the economic collapse that followed immediately afterwards. However, the history of the economic collapse can actually be traced to at least the early 1990s, with the introduction of the Structural Adjustment Programmes (SAPs), Black Friday in November 1997, the unbudgeted pay-outs to the war veterans, and the expensive war in the DRC.

It can be noted that few of the participants liked Mugabe or sympathised with him. To them, he was powerful, and they were not. He lived a comfortable life of plenty and did what he liked. As can be observed, most of the participants turned out to share relatively similar criticisms of, and opinions about, President Mugabe. I surmised that this was because most of them, being economic refugees in South Africa, tended to lay blame for this status on Mugabe. None of the participants I spoke to where leading particularly fulfilling lives in “Mzansi”, although they said they had no choice and – in any case – this life was marginally better than back home. Mugabe’s insatiable hunger for power and greed was linked by many of the participants to the economic collapse that drove them to lead precarious lives in South Africa. Participant A (FG2), for instance, stated:

Tarisa ma graduates ese atinawo kunyika kwedu, asi vakawanda vacho vakagara havana mabasa, imhosva yake Mugabe…Mhunu rudzii anoda kuramba akabatira pachigaro kuita senge Zimbabwe ndeyake ega, kukara kwega. Ndakamuvenga zvisingaiti murume uya, anofanira kufa zvinorwadza.

Look at all the graduates that we have in our country, but most of them remain unemployed and Mugabe is the cause of it all…Where have you seen a person who rules until such an age? What kind of a person wants to keep holding on to power

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as if Zimbabwe is his alone, it’s just greed. I really hate that man; he should die a very painful death.

The feelings of loathing for Mugabe were thus rather strong. The reasons for hating him were mostly linked with the fact that most of the participants had been driven out of Zimbabwe against their will. Thus, they blamed him for their current plight as economic refugees in South Africa.

As noted, a minority of the participants considered Mugabe to have once been an exemplary leader. Participant C from FG4 stated that:

Indaba esasizizwa ngoMugabe ngesikhathi sikhula, njalo lengwalo esasizifunda eskolweni zazisitshengisa ukuthi wayengumuntu olungileyo ekuqaleni ngesikhathi esiba ngumongameli welizwe. Wayeliqhawe lelizwe lethu, kodwa ngokuhamba kwesikhathi waba lomoya omubi njalo waba ligovu, yikho okwenza ecine ezondwa ngabantu. Manje sowawa kasekho yilutho, ngenxa yezinto ezimbi asenzela zona laselizweni lethu.

The stories we heard about Mugabe while growing up and the books we read about him at school depicted him as a great person in the beginning when he became president. He was the hero of our country, but with time he became cruel and greedy, as a result people begun to despise him. Now he has fallen to nothingness because of the bad things he did to us and to our country.

As such, the intense dislike was, for some, mixed with an ambivalent recognition that Mugabe was once a respected leader. He was now seen as not worth the respect which he now wished to coerce people into show him.

Mugabe, it was said, did not care about his people’s suffering and did not respond to their plight, nor serve them justice or redress when they needed it. He dealt with ruthlessly with dissension in ZANU-PF. People who challenged his power were labelled traitors. Some died in unclear circumstances. This shows that Mugabe was not just detested by most of the participants. Rather, he was also feared. Participant C in FG2 states that “we were afraid of him”. Participant F also (FG2) mentions that “people lived in fear”. The perception of Mugabe as a living terror was seen as explaining why citizens were scared to speak about him in public. Zimbabweans had to practice self-censorship and self-regulation when they spoke about Mugabe. Any

108 and all criticisms of the man were made privately. Any public criticisms were seen as a kiss of death. Participants noted that election years were the most violent, characterised by intimidation and brutal violence against opposition supporters by ZANU-PF militia. Asked if they lived in fear of Mugabe, most participants responded Yes. The data is broken down below:

Participant Yes No A X B X C X D X E X F X FG1: Did you live in fear of Mugabe?

Participant Yes No A X B X C X D X E X F X FG2: Did you live in fear of Mugabe?

Participant Yes No A X B X C X D X E X F X FG3: Did you live in fear of Mugabe?

Participant Yes No A X B X C X D X E X F X FG4: Did you live in fear of Mugabe?

The purpose of asking this question was to establish a link between fear and the use of social media memes. As noted in the Literature Review chapter, social media offers

109 a level of anonymity that is prized by those who are afraid of the powerful. This question helped us to establish if social media memes were used as a weapon for the fearful and the weak. At least, I tried to see if there was a correlation. However, I did not just stop at asking if people were afraid of Mugabe. I also asked: Why? Or, why not? I also probed exactly what they were afraid of. The participants reported the following: Reason for fearing Mugabe Reason for not fearing Mugabe A He killed and terrorised a lot of people, so it was possible to be caught in cross fire, especially during election time. B Mugabe is not normal, that devil is mad, and he frightens me a lot. I ran away from Zimbabwe with my husband in 2008 when the situation was terrible towards elections. These men, I presume Mugabe’s CIOs, beat up my husband because he was an MDC member. I will never forget the way they terrorised him telling him that he would die if he continued advising people to vote for MDC. Imagine the pain that he felt, and this is what made us move to Joburg to start a new life, away from Mugabe and his lapdogs. Where have you seen someone who terrorises people for challenging him? Mugabe is a devil and I don’t want to hear about him nor his ZANU-PF, they are all devils. C Mugabe is the devil himself. I have never seen such a ruthless person in my life. He killed a lot of innocent people, and it never pained him. When he dies he is going to hell, that’s where he belongs. Any normal person would be afraid of such an evil person. D I don’t want to risk my life and that of my family by talking about Mugabe. You know very well how ZANU-PF makes people suffer for such things. It’s not safe to be discussing jokes about Mugabe especially with a stranger. How do I know that you do not work for Mugabe’s CIO organisation sent to us as a student in disguise so that they can punish us for making jokes and laughing at Mugabe? E I owned a salon back home and it was destroyed during the Murambatsvina period because I operated illegally. From that time, I have been afraid of Mugabe because if tried to open up another small business, it could have been destroyed.

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F I have never been part of Zim politics, so what I realised was that if you don’t want Mugabe or his people to harm you then you need to stay away from politics. FG1: Why did you fear (or not fear) Mugabe?

Reason for fearing Mugabe Reason for not fearing Mugabe A Mugabe was a monster. If you think about all the atrocities that he committed during his 37 years of rule, then you will have every reason to be afraid of him. What made me fear him the most was that he was not even ashamed of accusing other people for his bad atrocities, such as his involvement in the Gukurahundi for example. He killed thousands of our people but still did not apologise for it. B He was a cruel man, you’d never know the next thing that could happen to you, whether you were vocal in politics or not. C We all know that this man is still powerful even if he is no longer president. For all we know, he is still running our country using Mnangagwa’s face. Remember those two have been very close friends for so long, do you think their friendship just disappeared into water, never! I will not answer any questions about Mugabe nor comment about his jokes, otherwise I will get killed. D His cruelty makes us fear him, plus he did not allow us to freedom of speech in Zimbabwe. We felt like foreigners in our own country. E I became scared especially when he started saying things like he was better than Jesus. Anyone who has the guts to say things like that is frightening because the next thing he was going to declare himself as God and we would be forced to bow down to him. F Although Mugabe was cruel, he only dealt with those big headed people like anaMawarire, so as long as you laid low, he would not touch you. Why would you want to challenge a man as powerful as Mugabe? I did not like him for many reasons, but I certainly did not fear him. FG2: Why did you fear (or not fear) Mugabe?

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Reason for fearing Mugabe Reason for not fearing Mugabe A He was just an old man who was hungry for power, so if you didn’t cross his path then there wouldn’t be any reason for anyone to fear him. B The man was evil and scary, I mean imagine all those stories we’ve heard about his involvement in the murder and intimidation of thousands of innocent people, including journalists and opposition members. He did not terrorise these people himself, but he was the one responsible for it all. He was an old scary man. C Mugabe is no different from Hitler. I remember from History how Hitler murdered thousands of Jews, without even blinking twice. He was so callous and evil that he enjoyed making innocent people suffer, and that’s exactly what Mugabe is like. He is the Hitler of our time, and he takes pride in causing pain to his own people without taking responsibility for it. That man is demonic and inhuman, and as a young Zimbabwean I totally despise him. D I’m not involved in politics and I never wish to, hence, he would never harm me personally, so I didn’t see any reason to be afraid of him. It’s those youths who are involved in politics that feared Mugabe because they played with fire. E That old man was inconsiderate as hell, his speeches frightened me, the way he used to speak back against the big countries like Britain and the U.S was just terrifying. Who wouldn’t be afraid of someone like him? Plus, he did not allow anyone who opposed him openly to walk away freely. I think Mugabe was the world’s most feared president, the Hitler of our time. F Who wasn’t afraid of Mugabe? I never dreamt of actually meeting him in person, I would probably have had a heart attack, had I met him. Being from Bulawayo, I was always scared that he was going to repeat the Gukurahundi saga all over again and order us Ndebeles to be slaughtered like what happened before. That’s mainly the reason why I encouraged my parents to bring me here for university, he was still in power at the time and anything was possible. FG3: Why did you fear (or not fear) Mugabe?

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Reason for fearing Mugabe Reason for not fearing Mugabe A A man who can hold on to power for such a long time is a scary one. I was scared especially after people like Itai Dzamara disappeared for asking Mugabe to step down. It means that Mugabe would do anything no matter how evil just to maintain his position as president. B Mugabe was brave, and he stood up to those big countries like Britain. I remember he used to say to Blair “keep your Britain and I will keep my Zimbabwe” I did not fear him because of his courage to stop the white people from colonising us again. He refused to become their puppet unlike opposition leader Tsvangirai. If Tsvangirai had ruled our country, he was going to sell us out to the whites and have us colonised again, but Mugabe was bold even if he wasn’t a saint. C I was afraid that he was going to wipe out the Ndebeles like he did in the 1980s [Gukurahundi] Every Ndebele person is afraid of Mugabe, and his friend Mnangagwa because they have always hated us, we are so unlucky as Ndebeles to be ruled by people who hate our tribe. Yizinja zabantu! (They’re dogs) D I was afraid to say anything bad about Mugabe in public because I was scared that I might be heard by someone who could be a CIO, soldier or policeman. I was afraid of being tortured, we were never safe back home under Mugabe, and we are still not safe right now. Zimbabwe will never be safe. E We ran away from Zimbabwe because of Mugabe, so if you now want to ask us about him while we are here in Joburg far away from him, you are scaring us. We don’t want to get into shit after talking to you about Mugabe, then you see CIOs coming after us to hit us. Those men can torment you, I once saw them terrorising this other guy in Marondera, I can’t ever forget that. So please leave me out of this issue. And you, as small as you are, are you not afraid that you may be tracked down by those ZANU- PF guys and they will kill you for whatever school research you are doing? A normal person will not pursue something as dangerous as this, you should be careful

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young lady, you will die young! I am done with you. F Mugabe is a wise man and I find no reason to fear him. He was just corrupted by his ZANU people but individually I believe he is a good man. If he was still our president, then maybe things would have started getting better. Even though he contributed to damaging our economy, which is the reason why I had to come to Jozi, I still think people need to give him his share of respect for his knowledge. FG4: Why did you fear (or not fear) Mugabe?

These data about fear of Mugabe show most participants reporting that they were “afraid” of President Mugabe. They also gave varied reasons for fearing him. For some, the fact that he held on to power for a very long time by any means necessary was terrifying. Some of the participants even proclaimed that although he was no longer in power, Mugabe was still a powerful man who could be ruling behind Mnangagwa’s shadow. For instance, Participant C (FG2) stated that:

Tese tinoziva kuti murume uya achiri nesimba rekutonga chero akabva pachigaro. Ipapa tichitaura kudai, pamwe ndiye achiri kutonga nyika yedu achishandisa chiso chaMnangagwa. Rangarira kuti varume vaviri vaye ishamwari chaidzo kwenguva yakareba, saka unofunga kuti hushamwari hwavo hwakangowira mumvura, kana! Handisi kupindura mibvunzo yezva Mugabe kana kutaura nezve majokes ake, ndingauraywa hangu.

We all know that this man is still powerful even if he is no longer president. For all we know, he is still running our country using Mnangagwa’s face. Remember those two have been very close friends for so long, do you think their friendship just disappeared into water, never! I will not answer any questions about Mugabe nor comment about his jokes, otherwise I will get killed.

Participant D (FG1) stated that she did not that want to risk her life and that of her family “by talking about Mugabe”. “You know very well how ZANU-PF makes people suffer for such things”, she said. She added that “It’s not safe to be discussing jokes about Mugabe especially with a stranger.” Participant E (FG4) stated, bluntly, that:

Isu takatiza kubva kuZimbabwe nenyaya yaMugabe, saka kana wakuda kutibvunza nezvake isu tirikuno kuJoni kure naye, unotityisa. Hatidi kupinda mushit tataura newe nezvaMugabe pano, wozoona takuvingwa nema CIO ake aya kuzotirova.

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Varume vaye vanokupfidzisa, ini ndakamboona vachibvarura mumwe muface ku Marondera uko, handizvikanganwe izvozvo. Saka ndapota hangu, ini hangu usandipinze munyaya iyi. Iwewe wacho nehudiki hwako hautye kuti unogona kungoteverwa nemaface eZANU-PF ukaurayirwa zva urikuita izvi, chero zviri zvechkoro? Mhunu akakwana chaiye haaite zvinhu zviri dangerous sezva urikuita izvi, ngwarira chisikana, unofa uchiri mudiki! Ndapedza newe.

We ran away from Zimbabwe because of Mugabe, so if you now want to ask us about him while we are here in Joburg far away from him, you are scaring us. We don’t want to get into shit after talking to you about Mugabe, then you see CIOs coming after us to hit us. Those men can torment you, I once saw them terrorising this other guy in Marondera, I can’t ever forget that. So please leave me out of this issue. And you, as small as you are, are you not afraid that you may be tracked down by those ZANU-PF guys and they will kill you for whatever school research you are doing? A normal person will not pursue something as dangerous as this, you should be careful young lady, you will die young! I am done with you.

Another, Participant C (FG4) expressed that, I was afraid that he was going to wipe out the Ndebeles like he did in the 1980s [Gukurahundi] Every Ndebele person is afraid of Mugabe, and his friend Mnangagwa because they have always hated us, we are so unlucky as Ndebeles to be ruled by people who hate our tribe. Yizinja zabantu! (They’re dogs)

It can be noted from this statement that, for the Ndebeles, their fear and hatred towards Mugabe are intertwined with issues of tribalism and ethnicity, dating back to the Gukurahundi period. I found that when asked about Mugabe, most of the Ndebele participants made reference to the Gukurahundi issue, which suggests that they were still bitter about the atrocities committed against their tribe, crimes that were never really accounted for and were only dismissed as “a moment of madness” by President Mugabe. The fact that Participant C (FG4) believes that Mugabe and Mnangagwa hate their tribe and bluntly calls them “dogs”, denotes the bitterness and desperate hostility still smouldering within him. Gukurahundi was and remains a highly sensitive topic in Zimbabwe. Any attempt to speak about the genocide publicly or commemorate its victims during Mugabe’s reign was regarded as a criminal offence (cf. Mpofu, 2013). Indeed, the fear of Mugabe was thus palpable throughout the data collection process.

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However, some of the participants claimed that they never feared Mugabe. These individuals tended to sympathise with him, partly because he was now an old man, whom they regarded as an erstwhile patriot and as having had a track record of being wise and brave. However, from what I established, it is possible that these participants may have felt terrified to express their true opinions about Mugabe in fear of being hunted down. For some like Participant F in FG4, Mugabe was a wise man who just got corrupted by his ZANU-PF acquaintances. Participant F (FG4) added that, “Even though he contributed to damaging our economy, which is the reason why I had to come to Jozi, I still think people need to give him his share of respect for his knowledge.” Participant B (FG4) also commended Mugabe’s bravery declaring that he did not fear him “because of his courage to stop the white people from colonising us again. He refused to become their puppet unlike opposition leader Tsvangirai.” Others like Participant F (FG2) felt that there was no reason to fear Mugabe if you were not involved in politics because he never harmed those who stayed away from politics and those who never challenged him. Participant F (FG2) added that those who dared to challenge a powerful man like Mugabe, the likes of Mawarire, were big-headed individuals who brought trouble upon themselves.

Anonymity was thus crucial in this process of data collection. As I found out, most of the participants, male and female, were equally fearful (in a few cases, terrified) to make comments about Mugabe and the memes which I presented to them. This is despite the fact that they were in South Africa, far away from Mugabe. But the fact that they are still Zimbabweans, who still want to go back home, and indeed who routinely return home, and the fact that they have relatives in Zimbabwe, made them cautious of what they were saying. Furthermore, they believed that Mugabe has a long arm, which could follow them beyond borders. Indeed, initially, I was treated with suspicion, as my study was regarded as cover for a Mugabe spying mission. I was asked, for instance, “How do I know that you do not work for Mugabe’s CIO organisation sent to us as a student in disguise so that they can punish us for making jokes and laughing at Mugabe?”

I was very surprised that even in 2018, a year after Mugabe fell from power, many were still wary of criticising him. Interestingly, the students who participated in the study were the least fearful. Not only did they seem to understand and trust that their

116 identities were fully protected by the concept of anonymity, but they did not seem to find any useful reason to be frightened of talking about Mugabe to a fellow student. The students had a better grasp of their constitutional and human rights, and regarded social media as a legitimate and relatively anonymous platform for voicing criticism of the establishment. As we will see, whereas some of the participants in the focus groups harboured strong and unapologetic views about Mugabe, many were wary to voice any criticisms at all. For instance, many of those from the hair salons and the urban vending areas declined to comment about the memes. They stated that they feared that they would get into trouble and be intimidated or abducted by the current ZANU-PF government, even though they are not currently resident in Zimbabwe.

Finally, I asked participants what they remembered of censorship during Mugabe’s rule. This question was linked to, and extended, the one about fear presented previously. It enabled us to establish if memes are a way to get around censorship. At least, I was able to say with some degree of reasonableness if there exists a correlation between censorship and the quantity and quality of participation in social media memes. The participants reported the following:

What they remembered of censorship during Mugabe’s rule A We were not allowed to criticise Mugabe, anyone who tried to do so would get into trouble. B I remember journalists and opposition members being tortured. C Mugabe oppressed us because he felt threatened by his opposers so that’s why he suppressed our freedom to speak. D The is no freedom in our country, I was afraid to speak about Mugabe publicly because anyone might be watching you. His CIOs, soldiers and police would wear civilian clothing, so it was possible to get caught and beaten. Even now I am still afraid to talk about him because you can never trust anyone. E What happened to Itai Dzamara is proof of censorship. He just disappeared after standing up to Mugabe and until now, only God knows exactly what Mugabe did to him. No matter how brave you were to rise against Mugabe, he would make sure that you suffered for it. F Insulting the president in public was a criminal offence, people got arrested for saying statements that were considered to be inappropriate about Mugabe. FG1: What do you remember of censorship during Mugabe’s rule?

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What they remembered of censorship during Mugabe’s rule A In Zimbabwe, you had to be careful about the things you said about Mugabe in order to avoid getting into crossfire. B On ZBC, you would never hear two sides of a story, ZANU-PF always gives you its side and they always blame the opposition for their mess, but they will not allow MDC or any other opposition to tell us their side, that’s obviously because ZANU-PF was lying to us. Mugabe and his people never took responsibility for the bad things they did, they always blamed it on MDC. C N/A D Internet was shut down to stop us from circulating messages. Any information that was against Mugabe even on the internet was crushed down. E No one was comfortable to declare that they were opposition supporters, that on its own could throw you into hot soup. F You could never come across any bad story about Mugabe in newspapers like The Herald. They always praised him and that’s probably because the ruling party told these newspapers what to write and what not to write. FG2: What do you remember of censorship during Mugabe’s rule?

What they remembered of censorship during Mugabe’s rule A There were various laws that prevented us from insulting the president, laws that stopped us from undermining the president’s authority. B I read stories about journalists from private media like dailynews being arrested and intimidated, simply for writing stories that did not favour the president. This was the kind of serious dictatorship that Zimbabweans were subjugated to. C The highest level of censorship under Mugabe’s rule was when he had the internet shut down to prevent people from sharing messages and communicating. Probably because they realised the power of the internet in inciting public protest. D I was shocked to hear that university students at UZ had been arrested and harassed for raising placards against Mugabe at a graduation ceremony. So that means Zimbabweans were basically not allowed to express their political opinions. E Homosexuals were deemed illegal in Zimbabwe. Mugabe hated them so much that they were never given space to express their true identities within the main media. You can never see a Zimbabwean drama with homosexuals in it, yet this is a trending phenomenon all over the world. I think banning homos is a form of censorship. F Zimbabweans were passive under Mugabe’s rule, not because they were stupid but because they were restricted from speaking back to power. They were suppressed silently probably until the increased infiltration of social media which broke their silence and allowed anonymity. FG3: What do you remember of censorship during Mugabe’s rule?

What they remembered of censorship during Mugabe’s rule A I have never seen opposition parties advertising on our TV station ZBC, I don’t know much about these things, but I think that’s part of censorship, it’s only ZANU-PF that advertises on TV and we only saw Mugabe’s rallies but none of the opposition, not even MDC. I don’t think that’s fair at all. B N/A C Mugabe never allowed anyone to oppose him, if you did so then you would find yourself in hell. D We were always careful about what to say and what not to say about Mugabe or ZANU- PF because you would never know who might be next to you.

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E N/A F The way that protestors like Evan Mawarire were treated shows the seriousness of censorship in our country under Mugabe. The man was tortured for saying the truth and he is not the only one. It made us more afraid to talk about Mugabe after that. FG4: What do you remember of censorship during Mugabe’s rule?

These data about what the participants remembered of censorship during Mugabe’s rule reveal the intensity of censorship in Zimbabwe. The statement by Participant D in FG1, that “There is no freedom in our country, I was afraid to speak about Mugabe publicly because anyone might be watching you. His CIOs, soldiers and police would wear civilian clothing, so it was possible to get caught and beaten”, shows the extent of the terror sown by Mugabe’s repressive state apparatus of the police, “Green bombers”, ZANU-militia, and CIO operatives. The use of these forms of repression also illustrates just how much Mugabe felt threatened by dissension. As Participant C from FG1 points out, “Mugabe oppressed us because he felt threatened by his opposers.” Participant D (FG1) even mentioned that “Even now I am still afraid to talk about him because you can never trust anyone”. This suggests that some Zimbabweans are still haunted by Mugabe’s track record of violence against opponents.

Ranger (2005) argues that Zimbabwean state-controlled media practiced so-called “patriotic journalism”. The public broadcaster and the state owned newspaper stable, Zimpapers, was used wilfully as a weapon for ZANU-PF propaganda. There were never two sides to a coin for ZANU-PF on ZBC TV, The Herald and other state media. Mugabe was the country’s only rightful ruler and he was always right. Only the opposition was blamed for violence. As stated by Participant B (FG2):

On ZBC, you would never hear two sides of a story, ZANU-PF always gives you its side and they always blame the opposition for their mess, but they will not allow MDC or any other opposition to tell us their side, that’s obviously because ZANU- PF was lying to us. Mugabe and his people never took responsibility for the bad things they did, they always blamed it on MDC.

Participant F from FG2 also pointed out that, “You could never come across any bad story about Mugabe in newspapers like The Herald. They always praised him and that’s probably because the ruling party told these newspapers what to write and what

119 not to write.” State media had become an instrument for promoting Mugabeism and narrowing the main public sphere to filter out opposing ideologies. All this can be seen as part of Mugabe’s monopolisation of the country. Privately-owned media such as The Daily News, The Standard, and Newsday were severely circumscribed by censorship. This reality partly explains why, with the advent of media, Zimbabweans no longer had to rely on mainstream media for news. Dissident behaviour began to manifest in the form of memes and protest. In the words of one participant from FG3, “Zimbabweans…were suppressed silently probably until the increased infiltration of social media which broke their silence and allowed anonymity.”

Participant C from FG3 highlighted that “The highest level of censorship under Mugabe’s rule was when he had the internet shut down to prevent people from sharing messages and communicating. Probably because they realised the power of the internet in inciting public protest.” This increasing trend of blocking internet access by governments, and the ease with which this is accomplished, makes us question whether the internet can actually be regarded as an alternative public sphere. But, perhaps, the propensity to shut down the internet by authorities points to its capability to threaten them. Mugabe himself attacked social media and suggested that it be regulated, accusing it of fostering decadence in Zimbabwean society.

For Participant C from FG4, anyone who opposed Mugabe would find themselves in hell. Hell in this case refers to the distress that Mugabe critics were subjected to, and comparing it to hell signifies the extent to which Zimbabweans were terrified of speaking about the president publicly. People had learnt to be cautious about “what to say and what not to say about Mugabe or ZANU-PF…” as stated by Participant D from FG4. Activists such as Itai Dzamara disappeared without a trace. Others, such as Evan Mawarire, faced jail. Participant F (FG4) stated that, “The way that protestors like Evan Mawarire were treated shows the seriousness of censorship in our country under Mugabe. The man was tortured for saying the truth and he is not the only one. It made us more afraid to talk about Mugabe after that.” Participant E from FG3, on the other hand, was concerned about Mugabe’s phobia for homosexuality and was distraught that homosexuals were totally excluded from the main public sphere, and thus were prevented from expressing their “true identities”. For this participant,

120 banning homosexuals was an act of censorship, especially since this form of sexuality has been “normalised” in Zimbabwe’s neighbour, South Africa.

I also asked questions that sought to establish what the participants thought of humour in general, outside the practice of using memes. This would allow us to compare general attitudes with particular ones. It seemed to me to be quite clear that the practice of humour was not new to Zimbabwe and Zimbabweans – that it did not emerge for the first time with memes or even with social media. Rather, it predated them. As such, I sought to excavate what the participants thought, in general terms, of humour and the practice of calling power into question through humour. The first question in relation to that was what the participants had to say about the practice amongst many Zimbabweans of zvituko (kunemera, kutsvinyirana, or ukuphoxa). Most participants responded that it was a way for them to laugh with and at one another and relieve stress, a practice that existed even before the popularity of social media. Participants pointed out that they routinely use humour in their everyday lives, without the intention of hurting anyone’s feelings. The humour only becomes spiky and acerbic when directed at detested people. Interestingly, making fun of powerful politicians was not a new practice amongst Zimbabweans – only it was done privately and not shared with strangers. Driven by word of mouth within intimate and trusted circles, the “jokes” could never go viral. Prior to social media, carnival practices of trolling power were conducted in private spheres amongst smaller groups in carnival spaces such as salons and bars. Participants agreed with the claim that social media intensified and popularised this alredy well established practice of zvituko, kutsvinyirana, and ukuphoxa. Politicians such as the late Vice President Simon Muzenda and Joseph Chinotimba were the butt of jokes about their buffoonery and apparent lack of education politicians. Others such as Enos Chikowore were mocked for their looks. A few participants however felt that kunemera, kutsvinyirana and ukuphoxa was only funny when done to younger people and not to older citizens such as Muzenda, Chikowore, Chinotimba and Mugabe. This, they said, would be a sign of disrespect towards the elderly. There was thus evident a clash of embedded cultural values with “social media values” where anything is fair game. However, most of the participants agreed that the practice of kutsvinyira had become a way for them to get some of their own back and to get some comic relief from harsh living conditions.

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In response to the question about laughter being the best medicine, the participants had this to say: Is Reason? laughter the best medicine? A YES Laughter was and still is the best medicine because it allows us to make fun of those in power and [momentarily] liberates us from harsh conditions, like we experienced during Mugabe’s reign and as we are still experiencing now under Mnangagwa’s rule. Laughter gives us a breath of fresh air and these memes allow us to laugh freely without fear. B NO We still continue to suffer even after we laugh, so laughing doesn’t help to solve our problems. You laugh for a short time and then you are back to your problems once again. C YES Laughter relieves stress for me, I work so much better around here when I laugh a lot. I even get more customers because I do my work faster and I feel freer than I ever did when I was back home. D NO If laughter could cure us from the pain we go through every day as we struggle to earn a living, then I would laugh every second. Laughing will not bring food to my table and it certainly will not bring me money, which is what I need to survive. E YES Since we can’t change our situation, laughter is the best way to cope with our troubles. F YES Our leaders frustrate us so much, prices continue to increase back home, and the economic situation is not getting better. Mugabe destroyed our country beyond repair, so right now all we can do is laugh at the situation, even if it’s hard for all of us. Unotomboseka kukanganwa kuti kumusha kwakapresser (you laugh until you forget that things are tough back home). Otherwise unofa nekufunga zvakawanda (you will die from thinking a lot). FG1: Is laughter the best medicine?

Is Reason? laughter the best medicine? A YES Sometimes you just need to catch a break from the horrors of the world. B NO Those people will always oppress us no matter how much we laugh at their jokes. They think we’re stupid by creating those jokes, laughter will not get rid of our struggles. C YES It’s true that laughter is the best medicine because although we go through hardships while trying to earn a living each day, making fun of our politicians and our situation helps us to cope better. D YES Laughter makes us feel powerful, when we laugh at powerful politicians, we degrade their image and reputation, which in turn brings us joy and relief. E NO I think laughter just relieves you from stress for a few seconds and then afterwards you forget that you were laughing about something. F NO We are not small children who are cured just by laughing. It also depends what you are laughing at otherwise you just end up looking like silly people. FG2: Is laughter the best medicine?

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Is Reason? laughter the best medicine? A YES Laughter gives people a sense of belonging, especially when we all laugh about the same situation which we relate to, for example, when we share Mugabe jokes, we laugh together and feel connected. B YES Laughter brings with it a kind of liberation from all oppression and suffering. It doesn’t mean when you laugh, it’s the end of your problems but you are liberated from all you worries for a moment. That moment of laughter feels really good C NO It doesn’t exactly cure people’s problems. Medicine is supposed to heal you completely, but laughter just relieves you for a few seconds and that’s it. D NO Getting a sense of relief from laughter doesn’t actually mean that I have dealt with my predicament. E YES As students we go through so much anxiety and depression from our studies and from our basic social life, so humour does the trick for me. I feel that laughter cures anxiety and depression, because you feel so much better. University students go through the most, but when you have people who make you laugh around and especially when you have memes, your life becomes less miserable. F YES When you start your day with laughter, you know that you’re about to have a good day. FG3: Is laughter the best medicine?

Is Reason? laughter the best medicine? A YES I feel alive and free, so I agree that it is the best medicine. Working in a foreign environment is not enjoyable, but through laughter, I feel more comfortable and it gives me hope that life will get better. B YES It’s not easy to survive especially when you work in this place (bus terminus), each moment reminds you of the situation back home and everyone who comes here talks about it. But through laughing, I am able to survive even with my struggles. C YES It’s true that laughing is the best medicine because you enjoy yourself for a while and you forget about all your troubles. D NO Laughing just shows that we don’t have the power to rise up against those who oppress us. It makes us weaker than we already are. E YES Laughter makes me perform better at my job because I feel happy at all times, even when things are not going well for me. F NO Laughter will not repair our country’s broken economy. And as long as I am still living in this foreign country, then it means that I am still struggling to survive. FG4: Is laughter the best medicine?

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The responses about whether laughter is the best medicine show that for some individuals, laughing is a kind of bringer of relief and temporarily liberates them from their habitual worries and stresses of daily living. Interestingly, this is the nature of carnival laughter which, according to Bakhtin (1984:94), “liberates from the fear that developed in man during thousands of years: fear of the sacred, of prohibitions, of the past, of power.” As stated by Participant A from FG1:

Laughter was and still is the best medicine because it allows us to make fun of those in power and [momentarily] liberates us from harsh conditions, like we experienced during Mugabe’s reign and as we are still experiencing now under Mnangagwa’s rule. Laughter gives us a breath of fresh air and these memes allow us to laugh freely without fear.

For Zimbabweans, carnival laughter is also an outlet, for frustration, pain and the experience of daily humiliation. Participant F in FG1 points out that: Our leaders frustrate us so much, prices continue to increase back home, and the economic situation is not getting better. Mugabe destroyed our country beyond repair, so right now all we can do is laugh at the situation, even if it’s hard for all of us. Unotomboseka kukanganwa kuti kumusha kwakapresser (you laugh until you forget that things are tough back home). Otherwise unofa nekufunga zvakawanda (you will die from thinking a lot).

Moreover, the statement by Participant A in FG3 that, “Laughter gives people a sense of belonging, especially when we all laugh about the same situation which we relate to, for example, when we share Mugabe jokes, we laugh together and feel connected,” shows that carnival laughter brings people together. As Bakhtin says, the marginalised come “in contact with each other” (Bakhtin, 1984:10). Affiliative humour, whereby people create and share memes not only to amuse one another but also to build relationships (Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong, 2015), is foregrounded.

Still, although humour and laughter might be momentarily escapist and liberating for most, laughter itself is too ephemeral to constitute the solution to people’s problems certainly, laughing does not bring with it a physical or measurable end to anyone’s misery. Hence, for some participants, anything that does not bring or money to the table does not cure their pain. Participant B in FG1 states that, “If laughter could cure us from the pain we go through every day as we struggle to earn a living, then I would

124 laugh every second. Laughing will not bring food to my table and it certainly will not bring me money, which is what I need to survive”. For others, like Participant D from FG4, laughter is a weapon of the weak. It is never going to topple governments. As such, it only serves to make those who share mocking memes to look pathetic. At the very least, it reflects their powerlessness and the fact that they are not capable of rising against their oppressors in the real world.

Asked if Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter, the participants had this to say:

Do Explanation Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter? A YES What I realised was that as Zimbabweans, we create such jokes in order to cope with our suffering. Laughing made it easier for us to continue surviving, with the hope that one day we shall be free from Mugabe’s dictatorship. So, when laughing at these jokes, we also laugh at how powerless we are to change our situation. B YES At least for a few seconds you feel a sense of relief from all your troubles. They might not disappear, but for that time you forget the pain that you go through each day as you try to earn a living. C YES Laughter gives us hope that everything will be alright, it does not solve any of my problems but at least it brightens my day. D NO Laughing will never solve any of my problems. Money solves my problems not laughter. So what if I laugh at a joke about Mugabe for two seconds? I still need to get more customers and do their hair for me to actually get more money to solve my problems, not by laughing. E YES When we share these jokes, we laugh together as Zimbos, and although laughing may not bring food to the table, it makes us feel that sense of connection with one another, so we stop stressing about other things for that time. F NO Laughing for two minutes doesn’t exactly change our situation. We laugh to make ourselves feel better about our troubles, but they still remain haunting us. FG1: Do Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter

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Do Explanation Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter? A YES Laughter makes it easier for us to manage our problems, you suffer with hope that things will soon get better. B NO Laughing will never help anybody to deal with their problems. We always laugh at these jokes but at the end of the day your problem is still waiting for you to find a solution for it C NO I laugh every day, but it does not help me much. If laughing could solve my problems, then I would laugh every second and I wouldn’t have to do this difficult job. D YES Laughing will not solve anyone’s problem directly but it helps you to cope with whatever you may be going through. E YES Zimbabweans have been through so much stress. In our case, it’s not easy to live and work in a country that’s not yours but laughter actually helps us to manage our situation. F NO Has laughing ever brought change or money to anyone? We need money to deal with our problems, after all that’s why we left Zimbabwe, to search for greener pastures. So even though we laugh all day at people and jokes, laughing is not a solution because we continue to struggle day and night to make ends meet. FG2: Do Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter

Do Explanation Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter? A YES But for a very short time, laughter is just a way for Zimbabweans to manage getting through the day without stressing too much. B YES When you’re happy, you tend to forget about all the other difficulties you may be facing at the time. So, I think for a moment Zimbabweans actually cope through laughter. C NO Laughing without action doesn’t help us to deal with our problems in any way. D NO I actually think that when we laugh, we are only acknowledging the fact that we can’t deal with our problems. It doesn’t help to laugh at a problem which you know is difficult to handle. Laughter does not help us to deal with our problems at all. E YES Although laughter may not get rid of their problems completely, they are liberated from the bondage of censorship. Laughing makes them feel free and it becomes easier for them to deal with these problems. F YES I think creating memes about Mugabe helped Zimbabweans to survive the terrible situation they have been facing for years, they

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can’t change the way things are so stressing about it will not help to solve their problems. Rather, laughing makes them cope. FG3: Do Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter

Do Explanation Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter? A YES Laughter helps me to cope with my difficult job, and it makes it enjoyable for me to work around this environment. B YES As I have already told you, laughter helps me to survive the struggles which I face each day. C YES Laughing helps me to forget about my problems for a short while. I can face my problems later on, but at least I don’t have to think about that all the time. D NO No matter how much we laughed at Mugabe jokes, it never changed the fact that he continued to oppress us and made our lives more depressing. There is no power in laughter, instead it just shows that we don’t have the power to rise against them, all we do is laugh at them, but they continue to rule us. E NO I just don’t see how anyone’s problems can be dealt with through laughter. F NO Laughing doesn’t help my situation. My problems continue to exist even when I see these jokes. I may laugh for that moment, but it doesn’t change the fact that I continue to suffer. FG4: Do Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter

The responses to the question whether Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter suggest that humour enables them to endure their suffering. If they can endure their current suffering, then they have hope for a better future. Participant A in FG1 stated that:

What I realised was that as Zimbabweans, we create such jokes in order to cope with our suffering. Laughing made it easier for us to continue surviving, with the hope that one day we shall be free from Mugabe’s dictatorship. So, when laughing at these jokes, we also laugh at how powerless we are to change our situation.

The statement by Participant A (FG1), that “when laughing at these jokes, we also laugh at how powerless we are to change our situation,” shows that humour indeed cannot always be treated as a form of resistance, but rather adopts a self-reflective

127 nature whereby citizens ridicule their own powerlessness in an attempt to deal with their struggles (Willems, 2011).

For others such as Participant E in FG2 laughter makes their work bearable and even enjoyable and enables them to feel comfortable working in a foreign environment. It is a means to adapt to a strange new country. Hence, “Zimbabweans have been through so much stress. In our case, it’s not easy to live and work in a country that’s not yours but laughter actually helps us to manage our situation.” Participant A in FG4 also stated that, “Laughter helps me to cope with my difficult job, and it makes it enjoyable for me to work around this environment.” In as far as the statement by Participant E in FG3 that laughter “liberated them from the bondage of censorship” is true, carnival laughter may be said to be democratic laughter that liberates from external censorship, “a laughter that contains a whole new outlook on the world,” (Bakhtin, 1984: 164).

Other participants responded negatively and caustically to the question, arguing that laughing was not the solution to their daily problems. For instance, Participant D in FG1 stated rhetorically “Has laughing ever brought change or money to anyone? We need money to deal with our problems, after all that’s why we left Zimbabwe, to search for greener pastures. So even though we laugh all day at people and jokes, laughing is not a solution because we continue to struggle day and night to make ends meet.” Another, Participant D from FG4, pointed out that, “No matter how much we laughed at Mugabe jokes, it never changed the fact that he continued to oppress us and made our lives more depressing. There is no power in laughter, instead it just shows that we don’t have the power to rise against them, all we do is laugh at them, but they continue to rule us.” This statement reminds us about the ambivalence of carnival laughter, which, as suggested by Eagleton (1981:4), is a licensed transgression, “a permissible rupture of hegemony, a contained popular blow-off as disturbing and relatively ineffectual as a revolutionary work of art...” Hence, although carnival laughter might be capable of subverting officialdom, the extent to which it can completely overthrow authority is limited.

I further asked the participants if it was OK to laugh or poke fun at powerful people. The responses I got were as follows:

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Is it OK to Explanation laugh/poke fun at powerful people? A YES They think they are untouchable, so laughing at people like Mugabe just proves that they are human beings like us. B YES It makes them look weak. When Mugabe fell at the airport that time, and people started creating jokes about the incident, it showed the world that he was not the fierce man that everyone though he was. For a while, we laughed at him and this ,made him seem weak and unfit to rule our country. C YES Laughing at powerful people gives us a little freedom. Even though they suppress us, they also need to know how much we undermine their authority. D NO When you make fun of a powerful person, it shows some kind of immaturity. You need to consider that getting into power is not as easy as doing someone’s hair. I believe that those people got there through hard work and as much as we might hate their actions, laughing is not the answer. E YES The creation of jokes about powerful individuals like Mugabe relieves us from our frustration towards him. F NO Laughing at powerful people like Mugabe doesn’t help us in any way. We have been staying in a foreign country for many years now because life back home is unbearable, so even we laugh at them, they still continue to make us suffer. FG1: Is it OK to laugh/poke fun at powerful people?

Is it OK to Explanation laugh/poke fun at powerful people? A YES ZANU-PF people treat Mugabe like Jesus, even newspapers like The Herald and our national TV station ZBC represent him as a holy man, but when we make fun of him, it shows that he just an ordinary person who can be laughed at. B NO It’s disrespectful to make fun of powerful people, especially when they are old like Mugabe. Old people can’t think straight, so laughing at them isn’t appropriate because it’s like you are laughing at a mad person. C YES Laughing at powerful people makes us feel free. In a country like ours where we are blocked from speaking against the likes of Mugabe and Mnangagwa, the only way to express ourselves is through laughter. D YES Laughing at people who are in power weakens their ability to rule. It humiliates them and even if they try to cover it up, their image has already been spoiled by all those jokes about them. E YES We cannot insult them directly in public and in their faces, so laughing at them and making jokes about these people is our way of degrading their power. F NO I feel like making fun of Mugabe is not right. Of course, anga aine hutsinye hwakanyanya hake (he was very cruel) but considering kuti (that) mhunu achembera (he is an old man), I think we should just leave him alone. In our culture, it’s considered taboo to make fun of vanhu

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vakuru (the elderly) like Mugabe, and normally when you do such you’re likely to suffer from bad luck. So, these jokes about him are not right, they show lack of respect towards our elderly, and I think zvinotinyadzisa isu semaZimbabwean because tiri kuratidza nyika kuti hatina hunhu (it’s embarrassing for us as Zimbabweans because we are showing the world that we don’t have manners). FG2: Is it OK to laugh/poke fun at powerful people?

Is it OK to Explanation laugh/poke fun at powerful people? A YES Considering the heavy censorship and laws that exist in Zimbabwe which limit freedom of speech, I believe that such memes poking fun at President Mugabe offer citizens the liberty to laugh and puncture his superiority anonymously. B YES Poking fun at powerful people is a way to practice our right to freedom of expression especially in dictatorial countries like ours. C YES These people are corrupt, greedy and selfish, so since we can’t tell them directly to piss off, we would rather use jokes to diminish their power. D YES Laughing at them takes away all our fears and we actually perceive these powerful individuals as ordinary people who can be made fun of. We see people in power, presidents, as gods who should not be disrespected, because that’s how we have been raised, but laughing at them just takes away all their power. E YES Normally, ordinary citizens are treated as powerless people who cannot rise up against those in power, especially when you are being ruled by a dictator, but laughing at these powerful people actually gives us back our power. It’s a way to prove to them that we are not passive citizens, but we have full potential to degrade them. F YES Laughter destroys the image and honour of powerful people. When we create memes poking fun at them, they cease to become the all- powerful individuals who rule us, for instance when people started creating memes about Mugabe’s fall, he became the joke of the whole world. FG3: Is it OK to laugh/poke fun at powerful people?

Is it OK to Explanation laugh/poke fun at powerful people? A YES Although we fear those in power, making fun of them liberates us ordinary citizens from our fears. B YES It takes away their pride and ego because powerful people think that we can’t touch them. We may fail to destroy them in person but when we make fun of them, we actually destroy their honour. Powerful people always want to be admired, and they want to maintain a good reputation, but by laughing at them, we damage that good reputation.

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C YES Powerful people need to know that their actions are foolish and that we do not consider them as sensible individuals. They should know that we do not take them seriously because all they tell us is bullshit. D NO Laughing at powerful people seems disrespectful. No matter bad they treat us, laughing at them just makes us look stupid in their eyes. Mugabe was not a good man but laughing at his jokes didn’t sit well with me. People who create jokes about others have no sympathy at all and this is wrong. E YES We are always afraid of speaking back to powerful people because you might get punished or harassed for it, so laughing at them takes away our fear. When I look at Mugabe’s jokes, all the fear in me disappears because then I know that he is a human just like myself. F NO Honestly, it’s not proper to laugh at an old man like Mugabe. I believe that Mugabe had a lot of wisdom, and he had intentions to rule this country in a good way, but he was corrupted by the people he worked with from ZANU-PF, they are the ones who made Mugabe do bad things because they were very greedy and only wanted to enrich themselves and their families. So, I don’t consider Mugabe as guilty, and it’s not amusing to laugh at the elderly like that, we should respect them. So, these jokes are nonsensical. I actually miss Mugabe and I wish he hadn’t stepped down from power, maybe things would have gotten better with time. FG4: Is it OK to laugh/poke fun at powerful people?

When asked why they thought people poked fun at politicians they do not like, and what the use was of poking fun at powerful people or politicians, the participants responded in several ways. Many thought it was appropriate to use memes to poke fun at the powerful because it punctured their superiority and brought them to the humiliating level that ordinary people experience every day. For instance, Participant B (FG1) mentioned that, “When Mugabe fell at the airport that time, and people started creating jokes about the incident, it showed the world that he was not the fierce man that everyone though he was. For a while, we laughed at him and this ,made him seem weak and unfit to rule our country.” Participant D from FG2 also stated that “Laughing at people who are in power weakens their ability to rule. It humiliates them and even if they try to cover it up, their image has already been spoiled by all those jokes about them.” Some of the participants felt that poking fun at powerful figures revealed that these people were just ordinary individuals who could be made fun of, like any other person. Their shit stinks too, as it were. Participant A from FG2 says, “ZANU-PF people treat Mugabe like Jesus, even newspapers like The Herald and our national TV station ZBC represent him as a holy man”. Making fun of him thus showed that “he was just an ordinary person who could

131 be laughed at.” Laughter destabilised officialdom and subverted dominant narratives about Mugabe.

Furthermore, other participants felt that poking fun at powerful individuals was a way of practicing their right to freedom of expression. In a repressive environment such as that obtaining in Zimbabwe, citizens, often regarded as passive, were thus actually capable of speaking back to power. For instance, Participant E (FG3) said that:

Normally, ordinary citizens are treated as powerless people who cannot rise up against those in power, especially when you are being ruled by a dictator, but laughing at these powerful people actually gives us back our power. It’s a way to prove to them that we are not passive citizens, but we have full potential to degrade them.

Poking fun at the powerful also “liberated” ordinary citizens from fear. Participant E (FG4) stated that “When I look at Mugabe’s jokes, all the fear in me disappears because then I know that he is a human just like myself.” For Participant C (FG4), poking fun at powerful people revealed that citizens never took their propaganda and ideologies too seriously. Participant C (FG4) even added that powerful people spoke “bullshit”.

As intimated earlier, a few participants were critical of memes. Some of those who were not in favour of the memes felt that it was inappropriate to make fun of the elderly. For instance, Participant F from FG2 felt that it was “not right” to make fun of Mugabe. She said:

I feel like making fun of Mugabe is not right. Of course, anga aine hutsinye hwakanyanya hake (he was very cruel) but considering kuti (that) mhunu achembera (he is an old man), I think we should just leave him alone. In our culture, it’s considered taboo to make fun of vanhu vakuru (the elderly) like Mugabe, and normally when you do such you’re likely to suffer from bad luck. So, these jokes about him are not right, they show lack of respect towards our elderly, and I think zvinotinyadzisa isu semaZimbabwean because tiri kuratidza nyika kuti hatina hunhu (it’s embarrassing for us as Zimbabweans because we are showing the world that we don’t have manners)

Another, Participant F (FG4), stated that:

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Chokwadi hazvina kunaka kuseka murume mukuru akaita savaMugabe. Ini ndinoona sekuti vaMugabe vanga vaine ruzivo rwakanyanya, uye zvekare vanga vaine chinangwa chekutonga nyika yedu zvakanaka, asi vakazongokanganiswa nevanhu vavaishanda navo vemuZANU-PF, ndivo vaiita kuti vaMugabe vaite zvakaipa nekuti vaikara zvakanyanya, vaida kuzvipfumisa vega nemhuri dzavo. Saka vaMugabe handivape mhosva, uyezve hazvifadze kuseka chembere tichidaro, tofanira kuvapa chiremero. Saka majoke aya haana kana musoro. Ini ndatovasuwa vaMugabe, ndinoshuwira kuti dai vasina kubva pachigaro, pamwe zvinhu zvaizonaka nekufamba kwenguva.

Honestly, it’s not proper to laugh at an old man like Mugabe. I believe that Mugabe had a lot of wisdom, and he had intentions to rule this country in a good way, but he was corrupted by the people he worked with from ZANU-PF, they are the ones who made Mugabe do bad things because they were very greedy and only wanted to enrich themselves and their families. So, I don’t consider Mugabe as guilty, and it’s not amusing to laugh at the elderly like that, we should respect them. So, these jokes are nonsensical. I actually miss Mugabe and I wish he hadn’t stepped down from power, maybe things would have gotten better with time.

There favourable view of anti-Mugabe memes was thus not unanimous. The statement by this participant that they actually missed Mugabe is clearly an exception to the norm. Most participants felt that the departure of Mugabe was a case of good riddance.

I asked the participants if they agreed that people who are prevented from speaking publicly can resort to protesting via social media. Their answers and explanation were as follows: People Explanation prevented from speaking publicly can resort to protesting via social media? A NO If you protest on social media, people will think that it’s a joke and may not take you seriously. B YES I can give you an example of Mawarire who started his #ThisFlag protest on social media and it spread very fast throughout the country. People rallied behind him on social media and also when the protest was taken to the streets. Mawarire became a hero who used social media to speak against Mugabe.

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C YES Sometimes, protesting via social media might help to incite a public protest. So people who are no able to speak publicly can turn to social media to start a protest, which could then become a physical protest if a lot of people support you. D NO I think it’s just the same especially in a country like Zimbabwe where they will punish you for protesting both publicly and online. Countries that have too much censorship will prevent you from protesting on any platform even on social media, we have many examples in Zimbabwe like Mawarire and Kudzayi who was arrested for being Baba Jukwa. E YES It’s easier to protest on social media because you will have many people supporting you, even those in the diaspora. Social media brings people together to fight for one cause, people who are normally not given a chance to speak publicly. F YES Social media gives us the freedom to express our political opinions. I have seen how people insult politicians on social media, especially on Twitter. When a politician posts something, even if it’s the president, people start blasting him on Twitter and saying all sort of insults. I have seen people calling Mnangagwa duzvi remhunu (shitty person). So I think it’s true that when people are prevented from speaking publicly, they turn to social media to protest. FG1: Can people prevented from speaking publicly resort to protesting via social media?

People Explanation prevented from speaking publicly can resort to protesting via social media? A NO The fact that you are prevented from speaking publicly means that you would also be scared to do it even through social media. B YES It’s difficult for you to get caught if you protest on social media because they can’t easily trace where the message originates from. If you protest in public in Zimbabwe, you get punished for it but it’s better when you do it on social media. C YES With social media, you get the courage to speak and say things that you can’t say publicly. D NO I think public protest is a much more proper way of protesting than social media because then you will be taken seriously, and people will see you as a brave person. So if you are prevented from speaking publicly, resorting to social media is not an option because you will be seen as weak. E YES People can join a social media protest without a lot of fear, when you are not allowed to speak out in public, you can turn to social media to express yourself more freely and anonymously. F YES Social media is the new weapon used by oppressed people to fight censorship. FG2: Can people prevented from speaking publicly resort to protesting via social media?

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People Explanation prevented from speaking publicly can resort to protesting via social media? A YES Normally people were frightened to insult (Mugabe) but with the creation of these memes, Zimbabweans experienced some kind of deliverance from Mugabe’s oppression for a moment. B YES There are plenty of examples where people have resorted to social media for protesting, for instance, the Arab Spring protests in North Africa and the #Tajamuka protests in Zimbabwe and many more. After all, social media protest reaches a much bigger audience than public protest. C YES The cyberspace offers a much better platform for protesting because it allows anonymity, so citizens who are restricted from expressing themselves in public can use social media. Plus information spreads fast via social media and your protest will likely gain more popularity. D NO Dictatorial governments will silence any form of protest even if it’s a social media one. And with these cyberlaws that are being introduced everywhere, soon it will be more difficult for people to protest on social media. E NO Governments that prevent people from speaking publicly will obviously find ways of preventing them from protesting via social media, we can also look at how our own government punishes people who undermine the president and protest via social media, plus they have the power to block access to the internet when social media protest becomes rampant. F YES These social media memes are actually a form of protest and although they may not successfully overthrow those in power, they are ways of fighting back against oppression and censorship. FG3: Can people prevented from speaking publicly resort to protesting via social media?

People Explanation prevented from speaking publicly can resort to protesting via social media? A YES Social media gives people the power to speak back to their oppressors and complain about their problems. I don’t really use twitter, but someone encouraged me to open an account recently and

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when I did so, I couldn’t believe what I saw, Zimbabweans insulting Mnangagwa vachitomuti imhata (calling him an asshole) and calling him all kinds of names like benzi (fool). It’s surprising the way people who are blocked from publicly insulting the president are so free to do it on social media. B YES People can insult the president on social media and do whatever they want, the only way for governments to block people from protesting on social media is by shutting the internet, but still they can’t do that for a long time, they block it for a week and then that’s it. So they can never completely prevent people from speaking on social media. C YES I didn’t know the power of social media until I saw these jokes making fun of Mugabe, and now about Mnangagwa. This means that people can use social media to express their political views without fear. D NO Protesting on social media is not safe anymore because you are in danger of getting into trouble if you are caught, unless maybe if you do it without being known. E NO It’s not everyone who is able to access social media, some people are so poor that they can’t even afford to buy smartphones, so if those people are prevented from speaking out in public, then they remain silent because they have no other way to protest. F NO People in Zimbabwe get tortured for protesting on social media, so I think it’s the same thing, if they can stop you from speaking out in public then they will also stop you from doing it on social media. They will track you down and make you suffer for it. FG4: Can people prevented from speaking publicly resort to protesting via social media?

The responses to the question whether Zimbabwean people prevented from speaking publicly can resort to protesting via social media suggest that most of them acknowledged the power of social media in facilitating protest. Although governments have proven to be capable of blocking internet access to stifle protest, they cannot shut it down for indefinitely, since most societies require the internet for commercial, industrial, educational and other purposes a very long time. So far, citizens have more opportunities to protest via social media than there are opportunities for governments to perennially shut down the internet. Participant F in FG1 stated that:

Social media gives us the freedom to express our political opinions. I have seen how people insult politicians on social media, especially on Twitter. When a politician posts something, even if it’s the president, people start blasting him on Twitter and saying all sort of insults. I have seen people calling Mnangagwa duzvi remhunu (shitty person). So I think it’s true that when people are prevented from speaking publicly, they turn to social media to protest.

This statement suggests that social media can act as an alternative platform for free expression, where citizens are capable of expressing political views without

136 censoring themselves or the undue fear of being restricted by governmental pressure or the unseen presence of spooks. Being in South Africa, out of reach of the long arm of Zimbabwean law, gives further impetus to lambast leaders and speak “truth” to them directly. Participant A from FG4 felt that:

Social media gives people the power to speak back to their oppressors and complain about their problems. I don’t really use twitter, but someone encouraged me to open an account recently and when I did so, I couldn’t believe what I saw, Zimbabweans insulting Mnangagwa vachitomuti imhata (calling him an asshole) and calling him all kinds of names like benzi (fool). It’s surprising the way people who are blocked from publicly insulting the president are so free to do it on social media.

Twitter and other platforms like Facebook are carnival sites which permit the use of profanation and obscene language. Bakhtin (1984: 123) defines profanation as “a whole system of carnivalistic debasing and bringing down to earth…” Profanities were, according to Bakhtin (1984: 17), “excluded from the sphere of official speech because they broke its norms,” and “were therefore transferred to the familiar sphere of the marketplace.” In this sense, the terms duzvi remhunu (shitty person), mhata (asshole), benzi (fool) are part of what Bakhtin referred to as profanities, and since they are excluded from the official public sphere, they are transferred to “the familiar sphere of the marketplace,” which in this case refers to social media platforms like Twitter.

Some participants also felt that people who were prevented from protesting online could resort to social media for protest because it allowed anonymity and reached a wider audience, which meant that more people could join in the show of dissidence. Participant B (FG2) pointed out that “It’s difficult for you to get caught if you protest on social media because they can’t easily trace where the message originates from. If you protest in public in Zimbabwe, you get punished for it but it’s better when you do it on social media.” Participant B (FG3) also mentioned that “There are plenty of examples where people have resorted to social media for protesting, for instance, the Arab Spring protests in North Africa and the #Tajamuka protests in Zimbabwe and many more. After all, social media protest reaches a much bigger audience than public protest.”

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However, other participants felt that the censoring and muzzling of activists such as Evan Mawarire of the #ThisFlag showed that governments have regained the upper hand. Several African governments have increasingly resorted to shutting down internet access to block social media protests. As stated by Participant E in FG3, “Governments that prevent people from speaking publicly will obviously find ways of preventing them from protesting via social media, we can also look at how our own government punishes people who undermine the president and protest via social media, plus they have the power to block access to the internet when social media protest becomes rampant.” Participant F in FG4 also mentioned that, “People in Zimbabwe get tortured for protesting on social media, so I think it’s the same thing, if they can stop you from speaking out in public then they will also stop you from doing it on social media. They will track you down and make you suffer for it.” For these participants, taking dissent online was a viable option in countries characterised by interlocking censorship.

I asked participants which they thought was more effective, expressing yourself in a public protest or via social media. The responses were as follows:

Public protest Social media is more protest is more effective effective A X B X C X D X E X F X FG1: Which is more effective, expressing yourself in a public protest or via social media?

Public protest Social media is more protest is more effective effective A X B X C X

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D X E X F X FG2: Which is more effective, expressing yourself in a public protest or via social media?

Public protest Social media is more protest is more effective effective A X B X C X D X E X F X FG3: Which is more effective, expressing yourself in a public protest or via social media?

Public protest Social media is more protest is more effective effective A X B X C X D X E X F X FG4: Which is more effective, expressing yourself in a public protest or via social media?

These data about what people thought was more effective, expressing oneself in a public protest or via social media, was followed up with a direct question about whether protesting via social media was useful. Participants were asked to explain their views. The purpose of this question was to establish participants’ views about social media prior to getting into questions specific to memes. The responses are captured in tabular form below:

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Is Explanation expressing yourself via social media useful? A NO I think social media is full of jokes, no one can ever take you seriously when you express yourself on WhatsApp or any other social media platform. B YES If it wasn’t useful to express yourself on social media, then Pastor Mawarire wouldn’t have become a public figure. His #ThisFlag campaign spread rapidly throughout social media and in a short space of time he had plenty of followers rallying behind him. C YES Social media gives us the courage to say things that we cannot say in public, like we can actually make jokes about Mugabe on WhatsApp and no one will know that you started it. D NO Social media spreads false news, if you express yourself on Facebook or WhatsApp, people might just take it as something fake and Zimbabweans are very sceptical people. E YES Information spreads very fast through social media, so when you express yourself there, then you know many other people will read your message. F YES Social media is better than our newspapers, TV or radio where we are limited to express ourselves and they tell us what to say. On social media you are free to say anything you want without a script. FG1: Is expressing yourself via social media useful?

Is Explanation expressing yourself via social media useful? A NO You can say something important on social media, but people will ignore the message if they think it’s stupid or false or if they simply don’t care about what you are saying. So even if you manage to express yourself, it will not make any difference. B YES Social media gives us freedom to express ourselves anyhow especially in a country where we are prevented from expressing our true political opinions. Like if you insult Mugabe in public, unogona kutosungwa kana kufa, (you might get arrested or die) but pa social media it’s difficult for them to catch you. C NO It’s a waste of time because not many people believe social media information. Instead, we are used to our traditional media like newspapers, radio and TV because we have been made to think that what they tell us is true, since the news is produced by professional journalists. But on social media, anyone can create news, so it’s hard to accept as true. D NO What’s the point of expressing yourself and remaining unknown [anonymous]? It means that no one will ever know that you created the message, so it makes no sense to me. It is not useful to express via social media if nobody knows that you are the originator of the text.

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E YES When you express yourself on social media, many people can share your message, so it spreads everywhere because social media has no boundaries. F YES On social media, like on WhatsApp or Facebook, we can talk about Mugabe tichiseka (laughing) nekumutsvinyira (mocking him) and this helps us kuti tipedze hasha (to air out our frustrations) since we can’t express ourselves publicly. FG2: Is expressing yourself via social media useful?

Is Explanation expressing yourself via social media useful? A YES Social media is a space that allows for anonymity, so you don’t feel scared to express your political opinions. B YES For a country like Zimbabwe with little freedom of expression, social media actually plays a role in allowing citizens to express themselves freely without fearing intimidation or worse. People can share information instantly and before you know it, your message would have reached millions of people not only within your country but also in other countries, even overseas. C YES Social media gives us the opportunity to become both producers and consumers of media texts, so you don’t only read a message, but you can create it and share with your contacts, who will also spread it to their contacts, and the cycle continues. D NO I feel that when you express yourself via social media, you might not be taken seriously, and people might just think it’s a joke. E NO With these cyberlaws that were introduced, you can’t trust social media. We praise social media for allowing anonymity, but you still find people getting into trouble for posting and circulating provocative messages on WhatsApp or Facebook. F YES Social media is a safe platform for expression. For example, WhatsApp has end to end encryption which prevents any third party from reading your messages, so when you express yourself anonymously, it might actually be useful depending on the message which you want to spread. FG3: Is expressing yourself via social media useful?

Is Explanation expressing yourself via social media useful? A YES Social media gives us a voice to speak back to those in power, we are free to make fun of them and they may never know who we are, but they will know that we hate them.

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B YES We are free to say anything we want on social media and not get into trouble for it, if I do it on radio or TV, they will not even allow me to criticise Mugabe or they will punish me for it. C YES We don’t have freedom of speech in Zimbabwe so at least social media gives us that freedom to express ourselves. If you get caught you might get into trouble, but the chances are low. D NO Your message may reach a lot of people but those in power anaMugabe vacho (the Mugabes) that you are complaining about may never come across it, so I don’t see it being useful. I think it’s a waste of time expressing yourself on social media when the people who are meant to see the message will never see it. E YES If it wasn’t useful then the government wouldn’t shut down the internet. They know that social media is dangerous that’s why they block it. F NO Social media ndeyekupenga (is madness) because hapana anombozvitora serious zvaunonyora plus hapana anoda kuzivikanwa kunzi ndiye muridzi we message yacho or joke yacho irikutenderera, saka (no one will take your text seriously and no one wants to be identified as the creator of the text or joke that’s circulating), so I find it useless to express yourself pasocial media (via social media). Even pasocial media pacho tinototya kumamiswa nemafesi aMudhara Bob (even on social media, we are afraid of being beaten up by Bob’s cronies) FG4: Is expressing yourself via social media useful?

Most participants rate participating via social media highly. Most reacted positively when asked if expressing oneself via social media was a useful pastime. Although the participants may broadly agree, the explanations they give are as varied as they are significant. Participant B in FG1, for instance, explains that “If it wasn’t useful to express yourself on social media, then Pastor Mawarire wouldn’t have become a public figure. His #ThisFlag campaign spread rapidly throughout social media and in a short space of time he had plenty of followers rallying behind him.” Participant B in FG2 explained that expressing oneself via social media was more useful than expressing oneself in public where one risked getting arrested, targeted, or intimidated. Instead, participants said that social media gave them the “freedom” to express their true political views because odds of one getting caught were rather lon. For Participant C in FG3, it was essential to express oneself via social media because it allowed individuals to not only consume media texts virtually, but also to produce, remix and disseminate those texts in ways that can be viral. Ease of dissemination is thus a critical factor in the adoption of social media for dissident purposes. Participant C (FG3) explains that “Social media gives us the opportunity to become both producers and consumers of media texts, so you don’t only read a message, but you

142 can create it and share with your contacts, who will also spread it to their contacts, and the cycle continues.”

However, Participant E in FG3 fears that much of this optimism is misplaced: “With these cyberlaws that were introduced, you can’t trust social media. We praise social media for allowing anonymity, but you still find people getting into trouble for posting and circulating provocative messages on WhatsApp or Facebook.” The usefulness of expressing oneself via social media is still very much in question. For instance, Baba Jukwa was an anonymous figure on Facebook, but the government hunted him down (or someone they said was him), and arrested a suspect. Ironically, this suspect was an editor at the weekly state newspaper, The Sunday Mail! A few other participants as well seemed pessimistic about expressing oneself through social media. The explanation they gave was that social media was not helpful since people might not take such content seriously, especially if they perceive it as fake news. Participant F in FG4 pointed out that,

Social media ndeyekupenga (is madness) because hapana anombozvitora serious zvaunonyora plus hapana anoda kuzivikanwa kunzi ndiye muridzi we message yacho or joke yacho irikutenderera, saka (no one will take your text seriously and no one wants to be identified as the creator of the text or joke that’s circulating), so I find it useless to express yourself pasocial media (via social media). Even pasocial media pacho tinototya kumamiswa nemafesi aMudhara Bob (even on social media, we are afraid of being beaten up by Bob’s cronies)

Participant D in FG2 also explained why they thought that it made no sense to express oneself via social media: “What’s the point of expressing yourself and remaining unknown [anonymous]? It means that no one will ever know that you created the message, so it makes no sense to me. It is not useful to express via social media if nobody knows that you are the originator of the text.”

Other participants demonstrated their dislike for memes. For instance, Participant D (FG1) stated that although memes were humorous, they were merely silly and did not have any impact in her life. Another, Participant F (FG4) had this to say about memes, “I think they’re stupid. People who create memes have nothing else to do and they are not suffering like some of us, so they make fun of other people’s situations.” Further

143 critical voices were raised against social media, even by participants who use it habitually! Participant C in FG2 stated that,

It’s a waste of time because not many people believe social media information. Instead, we are used to our traditional media like newspapers, radio and TV because we have been made to think that what they tell us is true, since the news is produced by professional journalists. But on social media, anyone can create news, so it’s hard to accept as true.

A number of themes emerged as participants started to talk specifically about memes. Below I present and analyse what participants said in relation to memes in general, as well as Mugabe memes in particular. The general focus group responses are captured below:

Do you What is your attitude to memes in general? Explain. enjoy memes in general? A YES Memes are funny, and they make you laugh even if you don’t want to. B YES Memes are the main reason why I go on Facebook these days and read people’s statuses on WhatsApp, because I just want to laugh. C YES The jokes are like drugs, once you start viewing them you never want to stop, my data gets used up because I enjoy searching for them on the internet. D NO They are silly, of course they are also funny, but they don’t really have any impact in my life. E YES I think people who don’t like memes don’t have a sense of humour because those jokes are so funny that they can turn around your bad mood and make you have a good day F YES I love memes, they make me feel less lonely. FG1: Participants’ general attitude towards memes

Do you What is your attitude to memes in general? Explain. enjoy memes in general? A YES You become less depressed when you see a very funny meme. B NO The jokes will make you laugh for two seconds then you are back to your sad miserable life again. C YES I enjoy memes that I can relate to because then I am able to understand what they mean. D YES I like memes because they take away my frustration. E NO Jokes are for immature people, they are for children not old people like us.

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F NO Memes are nonsensical. I think they are meant for little kids and although the younger generation, our kids find them funny, you will find that most of them don’t have any appropriate meaning. FG2: Participants’ general attitude towards memes

Do you What is your attitude to memes in general? Explain. enjoy memes in general? A YES Memes make my day, even when I’m having a bad day, they lighten up my mood and make me feel less stressed. B YES Memes are so hilarious, you can literally laugh your lungs out just by seeing a funny meme especially if you can relate to it. C YES I love memes, basically any incident can be turned into a humorous meme no matter how serious it can be, especially if it involves a popular figure. The Mugabe falling memes for example, were created in such a hilarious manner that you wouldn’t think he was the fierce president that we all thought him to be. D YES Who doesn’t like memes these days? Every morning I browse through my Instagram, WhatsApp and Twitter accounts just to check for funny memes that could possibly make my day. E YES If there’s one thing that makes me love social media, it’s the creation of memes! People out there have such creative can ease up a person’s mood in a split second. F YES Memes are amazing! Even university students now express themselves through memes, the UJ or Wits exam memes created by students towards exam time are a good example of how hilarious memes can actually denote something serious. These memes also help us as students to cope with problems like anxiety during exams. FG3: Participants’ general attitude towards memes

Do you What is your attitude to memes in general? Explain. enjoy memes in general? A YES I enjoy seeing them as long as I can understand what the meme is about. B YES They reduce stress for me, for a moment I can forget about my problems and laugh a little. C YES They are my social media friends. Even when you are alone, memes give you good company and make you feel better, even though it’s only for that short time. D NO Memes can’t solve any of our problems, so I feel that they are useless. You laugh then what? If I am suffering like this then how will laughing at a meme help my situation? E YES I like them, you don’t need another person to brighten your day, just go on the internet and look for memes.

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F NO I think they’re stupid. People who create memes have nothing else to do and they are not suffering like some of us, so they make fun of other people’s situations. FG4: Participants’ general attitude towards memes

The participants’ general attitude to memes, of course, varied. The statement by Participant C in FG1 that memes “are like drugs, once you start viewing them you never want to stop, my data gets used up because I enjoy searching for them on the internet,” shows that memes have become an addictive part of people’s everyday lives and culture. This participant compares memes to drugs, in an attempt to highlight the influential and hard-to-shake impact of memes on people’s lives. Participant D (FG3) asks: “Who doesn’t like memes these days? Every morning I browse through my Instagram, WhatsApp and Twitter accounts just to check for funny memes that could possibly make my day.” These statements demonstrate that internet memes, in as far as they foster carnival laughter, becomes a part of the everyday lives of people, both the creators and consumers of these memes. Memes therefore allow people to experience a “second life” outside the official everyday life, a life that liberates them from everyday stresses, hurts, humiliations and frustrations, As Participant D (FG2) says, “I like memes because they take away my frustration.” Indeed, for Participant E (FG1), people who did not like memes did not possess a sense of humour. According to her, “those jokes are so funny that they can turn around your bad mood and make you have a good day.” Participant E (FG3) stated, “If there’s one thing that makes me love social media, it’s the creation of memes! People out there have such creative minds that can ease up a person’s mood in a split second.” As stated in Chapter 2, internet memes are a creative form of aesthetic expression, not only meant to amuse people but also to convey various ideologies.

Participant C (FG3) stated that, “I love memes, basically any incident can be turned into a humorous meme no matter how serious it can be, especially if it involves a popular figure.” This statement echoes Shifman’s (2014:14) assertion that “we live in an era of hyper memetic logic in which almost every major public event sprouts a stream of memes.” We showed in the introduction of this study, that internet memes have played a central role in some of the major events of the 21st century. Participant C (FG3) adds that, “the Mugabe falling memes for example, were created in such a hilarious manner that you wouldn’t think he was the fierce president that we all thought

146 him to be.” This suggests that the creation of Mugabe memes punctured his superiority and invincibility. Citizens felt a measure of release when they realised that Mugabe was not as omnipotent and infallible as state narratives made him seem.

As part of moving from the general to the particular, I asked participants which kinds of memes they enjoyed seeing and sharing, and why. Their responses are given in tabular form below:

What kinds of social Explanation media memes do you enjoy seeing and sharing, if any? A All of them They make me laugh so sharing them with my friends means that we laugh together, and we build a connection through laughter. B Any kind I have never seen a kind that’s not funny, so it doesn’t matter whether it’s about politics or if it’s just about anything. C I don’t mind what kind it is But I need to be able to relate to the joke for me to understand its meaning. D I don’t really like them They have no effect in my life, so I don’t see the point. E Any type I always see memes as funny, whatever kind, even if it has to do with politics or everyday issues that we deal with. F Any kind that I can It’s easier to get the meaning of something if you understand understand it, so I don’t enjoy seeing or sharing jokes that make sense of. Some of them are too silly. FG1: Participants’ choices of meme

What kinds of social Explanation media memes do you enjoy seeing and sharing, if any? A Every kind is okay for me All the ones that I have seen so far are funny and they make me laugh, which is what they are meant to do in the first place. B All of them All of them are funny, so I don’t choose. I can laugh at any meme that I come across if it’s straightforward. C Any, as long as they are Some of these jokes are not funny at all, or funny maybe it’ because I don’t relate to those ones, but as for the ones are funny to me, I enjoy sharing with others so that I don’t have to laugh alone. D Those that I can understand If I can get the meaning of the meme then I enjoy seeing it and sharing with my colleagues and friends so that we can laugh together.

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E None They are for immature people, I am too old to be sharing jokes. F None We should leave our kids to laugh and share them. Most of them are just silly jokes that do not have any proper meaning. FG2: Participants’ choices of meme

What kinds of social Explanation media memes do you enjoy seeing and sharing, if any? A All kinds of memes All memes are humorous, so I like sharing with my friends so that they don’t have to stress too much. If simple memes can make my day, then I also want people close to me to feel the same way. B Politics related I love political memes because they always carry a meaning that may be more serious than what people think. C Any Different kinds of memes illustrate various kinds of creativity, so I don’t care what type it is, I just laugh and share. D Mostly political memes Political memes are a way of speaking back to our rulers, it’s a form of political expression by the public especially in censored countries like Zimbabwe. E All memes are good for me It doesn’t matter what kind it is, they’re all humorous at the end of the day. F I enjoy varsity memes about I relate better with memes about university students students and the struggles which we face because at some point I think we’ve all been there. Joking about the struggles of a varsity student makes me feel better because then I’m aware that I’m not the only one who’s been through the same situation. FG3: Participants’ choices of meme

What kinds of social Explanation media memes do you enjoy seeing and sharing, if any? A Politics related I love those that make fun of political figures like these Mugabe ones. They stop us from fearing powerful people. B All of them are fine All memes have a serious meaning that could be interesting if you understand what it’s about. C Any kind All of these jokes are meant to be funny, so as long as it makes me laugh, I don’t care what kind it is. D Anything that can make me They can’t solve my problems, but I don’t mind laugh sharing them with my friends just to make them laugh.

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E Anything that is not related Politics is dangerous, so I try by all means to stay to politics away from anything that has to do with it. F None Like I said to you before, they are stupid and with my job, I don’t really have the time to share stupid jokes. FG4: Participants’ choices of meme

The participants’ stated that they generally liked to see and share memes about any theme, topic, or subject. This included politics as well as droll subjects. Most of them said that they enjoyed seeing and sharing all sorts of memes as long as they were able to comprehend the meanings of the memes, and if they related to the memes. This suggests that all types of memes are generally humorous, and achieve virality depending on topicality, the styles of humour applied to them and whether they can be understood by their recipients. Those who said they enjoyed political memes gave reasons that these memes were a form of speaking back to power, and that they carried a much more serious meaning than they seemed. A few of the participants mentioned that they enjoyed any kind that was not politics related because politics was dangerous, and they wanted to stay away from anything that could possibly bring harm to them.

A few participants said that they did not enjoy seeing or sharing any memes for the reason that memes were stupid jokes meant for immature people. Responding to the question whether the Mugabe memes had any potential to threaten Mugabe’s authority, Participant B (FG3) stated that:

I think these memes threatened Mugabe’s authority in the sense that they poked fun at a very powerful man who was usually portrayed as invincible by state-controlled media. So, these memes somehow destroyed Mugabe’s invincibility, and turned him into a mortal human whom people could laugh at and get away with it.

It can be noted here that, at least according to Participant B (FG3), Mugabe’s invincibility is attributed to his portrayal in state media. Memes therefore are prefigured as a kind of riposte to state media propaganda. We showed in Chapter 2 that state media in Zimbabwe practice patriotic journalism which perpetuates Zanuist and Mugabeist ideologies (Ranger, 2005).

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State media in Zimbabwe portrayed Mugabe as immortal, invincible and infallible. For instance, he was for several years between 2009 and 2015 referred to on TV and radio through the long-winded title of “Head of State and Government, Commander in Chief of the Zimbabwe Defence Forces, His Excellency, Comrade Robert Mugabe’. This title would be repeated every time Mugabe’s name was mentioned, as a way to show how omnipotent he was. Participant A (FG1) had this to say:

Of course these jokes threatened Mugabe’s authority because they exposed people’s true feelings towards him and revealed that he was no longer as strong and fit to rule as he was before. The memes, especially about his fall, humiliated him and showed the world that Zimbabweans were capable of teasing their fierce dictator.

Another, Participant A (FG2) mentioned that Mugabe had been worshipped for far too long, getting many people to believe that he could not be touched Yet “these memes humbled him to the ground, whoever created these jokes did it to challenge his authority and to prove that what state media told us about Mugabe were all lies created to protect his name,” she said.

On the other hand, some participants argued that these memes did not threaten Mugabe in any way because they were merely stupid jokes that had no power to challenge his authority. Participant F (FG4), for instance, stated that, “if these jokes about Mugabe actually threatened his authority, then he could have stepped down after becoming humiliated. But then, he continued ruling, oppressing us, and he did not even think that anyone was going to remove him from power.” the participant added that “if Mugabe saw any of these jokes about him, he probably laughed and thought that those who created them were foolish people.” The statement by Participant F (FG4) questions the ability of memes to actually subvert power. It has been argued that although memes function as weapons of democratic subversion, empowering citizens to articulate their political opinions in satirical ways, the extent to which can actually influence political change remains unclear (Shifman, 2014)

Asked about their specific attitude to memes about politics and political topics in Zimbabwe, and whether they enjoyed political memes on Zimbabwe, most participants reported that they approved, and found the memes funny. For instance, Participant C

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(FG1) stated that she enjoyed political memes on Zimbabwe because “they humbled politicians who thought they were better people than everyone else, and also exposed people’s true opinions about them.” Evidently, memes allow citizens to freely express their political opinions while trolling certain powerful political figures, in this case Mugabe. Participant D in FG3 stated that political memes were ways of speaking back to their rulers. They are forms of political expression especially in countries characterised by censorship, like Zimbabwe. Political memes indeed create powerful voices in response to censorship and allow citizens to communicate and negotiate political identities.

For Participant B (FG3), political memes were humorous messages that conveyed a more serious political message than what most people thought. Not only are these memes funny, but they also express certain truths about political figures that are normally suppressed or excluded by dominant narratives. All these statements emphasise the significance of memes in a typical propaganda-heavy state like Zimbabwe, which suppresses political views that contradict official state narratives. Participant A (FG4) explained that he enjoyed political memes because they poked fun at powerful figures like Mugabe, which liberated them from fear of these people.

However, Participant E (FG4) explained that he did not want to be involved with Zimbabwean politics because it was a dangerous game that could land one into serious trouble. This statement is probably linked to citizens’ fear of Mugabe and the ZANU-PF government that we earlier spoke about. As we have already established, fear prevented some participants from commenting freely on Mugabe or Zimbabwean politics. A few other participants who had earlier mentioned that they did not enjoy any kinds of memes, including political ones, recurrently stated that political memes, like all the others, were merely silly jokes meant for immature people.

Memes are often created anonymously, although sometimes the creators would watermark them with a trademark. But even with watermarked memes, it is difficult to trace the creator. After all, memes are shared and remixed dozens or even hundreds of times. Asked who they thought created these Zimbabwean memes, and what the motive behind making the memes was, the participants generally responded that they had no idea where these memes originated from, and that individuals who created

151 such memes were courageous and entertaining people with creative mindsets. Some of the participants stated that although they could not trace the creators of these memes, the context and meaning of the memes provided an explanation for the motives behind the creation of such memes. For instance, Participant E (FG3) pointed out that “the memes about Mugabe being gay were probably created by homosexuals in Zimbabwe” in an effort to “frustrate him”, speak back to him and bend “the rules which prohibit such acts in our country.”

Participant A (FG1) and Participant B (FG2) shared the view that perhaps these Mugabe memes were created by members of opposition parties or activists who realised that they could, for once, get away with deriding and trolling the president through sarcastic humour. This explanation seems plausible since according to Bakhtin (1984: 4), “laughter and its forms represent the least scrutinised sphere of people’s creation.” Also, Bernal (2013) cited in Pearce and Hajizada (2014) claims that “the power of humour under dictator­ship…lies in the fact that humour is one of the few spheres of expression that officials do not dominate.” This, therefore, made the creation and virality of Mugabe memes easy and possible. Generally, the participants agreed that these Mugabe memes were created not only in an attempt to entertain Zimbabweans stationed all over the world, but also to prove that Mugabe’s shit stank too!

Part of the question that intrigued me was the potential division, in the world of memes, between creators and users. As noted, those who share memes may or may not be the creators, but most users are not creators. I intended to establish whether users would themselves create a funny meme poking fun at something. None of them had created memes, suggesting that only a small percentage of the online crowd creates memes. Most are mere consumers and sharers of memes. I asked the consumer-sharers: had they a chance to create humorous memes poking fun at something, what it is that they would you poke fun at? The participants’ responses were similar in various respects. Most of them responded that they would create any kinds of memes that related to their present situations. For instance, Participant F (FG3) stated that, as a university student, she would create memes that related to the struggles faced by her fellow students because she was aware of the anxiety and depression that most students suffered from. At the very least, creating such memes

152 would cheer them up. Others, like Participant D (FG2), mentioned that given a chance to create a meme, she would poke fun at powerful politicians like current President Mnangagwa and General Chiwenga (Vice President) who made ordinary Zimbabweans’ lives unbearable. Participant B (FG4) stated that he would create memes associated with his everyday life. A few said that they would never create memes poking fun at anyone because it was wrong to make fun of other human beings even if they were bad people. Others mentioned that they would create memes that were not politics related for the reason that “politics” was a hazardous game they did not wish to get involved with.

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CHAPTER SIX

DATA PRESENTATION, INTERPRETATION AND ANALYSIS

INTO THE MUGABE MEME-DATA: A THEMATIC EXPLORATION This chapter is a continuation of the previous one which presented and analysed the data collected from focus groups. In this chapter, selected Mugabe memes were interpreted through the lens of Bakhtinian carnival and were analysed through semiotic analysis. The chapter also examined the characteristics and styles of humour that were used in the Mugabe memes. As already noted, most of the participants believed that memes were an appropriate way to make fun of those in power. They also thought that Mugabe deserved to be made fun of because of his real or perceived misdeeds. In other words, satiric humour was seen as a response to Mugabe’s actions. Essentially, no one satirises someone who has not provoked the satire. The participants agreed that there is no justification for satirising innocent people. They also agreed that the powerful, by dint of their privileged position, deserved the scorn that comes their way. This response indicates the political load underlying the consumption and sharing of memes. Below we will consider specific memes that, in the views of the participants, were central in achieving this.

Meme 1: How the mighty have fallen! One of the most popular and widely shared memes of Mugabe arose from his fall at the Harare International Airport on the 4th of February 2015 as. Mugabe was returning from an African Union meeting in Ethiopia, and tripped over a flight of stairs and fell onto his knees. This was the first time that Zimbabweans, and the world, had seen Mugabe fall physically. This event had the climactic effect of showing that Mugabe was human, after all. His spin-doctors such as Jonathan Moyo, then then Minister of Information and Media and Broadcasting Services, tried to argue that Mugabe had not fallen, but had merely “broken the fall”. This is what Jonathan Moyo had to say: “the President did not actually fall what happened is that the President tripped over a hump on the carpet on the steps of the dais as he was stepping down from the platform… [and] he remarkably managed to break the fall…” (The Herald, 5th February 2015). However, all this spin-doctoring was to no avail, as the event of a falling Mugabe trended on social media, accompanied by several memes, some of which we shall

154 look at below. Mimicry and sarcasm were the main types of humour used in the memes about Mugabe’s fall.

That state narratives were equivocal that this fall “was not a fall” amplified the sarcasm and mimicry of the falling memes. The denials made the event even more absurd. It was as if people were being told that what you saw happening is actually not what happened. The denial that Mugabe did not fall when it was clear to all that he did fall illustrates the degree to which state narratives would go to protect Mugabe’s image and attempt to twist truth and cover-up embarrassing reality. It is clear how Mugabe’s followers worshipped him as an indestructible being who is incapable of normal human accidents such as falling. Denying the fact that Mugabe’s fall actually happened was an attempt to protect the president’s sacred image, so that the public would not regard him as old, unfit and incapable of ruling. Such “Great men” apparently do not fall. They merely break their fall.

Kierkegaard (1985), in Fear and Trembling, has written about being “able to fall down in such a way that the same second it looks as if one were standing and walking, to transform the leap of life into a walk, absolutely to express the sublime and the pedestrian”. This is a characteristic of so-called “great men” and demi-gods. Ironically, this same quality of “falling that is not falling” amplifies the laughter of onlookers, particularly in the age of social media when the laughter is shared by multitudes and the event played, replayed, rewound, fast-forwarded and zoomed in. The event is magnified and is permanently there for all to see. By putting “the fall that is not a fall” on social media, it is as if people were being invited to see for themselves and decide if what they were seeing was a fall or not. This invitation, in my view, leads to the proliferation and multiplicity of reactions. Indeed, it is this invitation that leads to multiple memes of the same event. People become secondary producers of the event due to the event’s socially mediated availability.

We have argued that the socially mediated availability of meme events constitutes an invitation to comment and to be a secondary producer (or produser) of the event. This invitation is a nightmare for orthodox spin-doctors and PR executives. They can no longer merely depend on repeatedly denying what is in the video or the picture. The dictum about repeating a lie long enough until it becomes true no longer holds. This

155 is because people’s attention spans only focus on bite-size clips for as long as they trend only. No one cares what happens beyond the trend. As such, there is not enough time for spin doctors to spin their web, and to hold an event in place long enough to transform it into truth. At the same time, the permanent availability of a picture or video as part of an inerasable digital archive means that people can, when they want, search for the picture or event again and laugh at it or re-use it.

In terms of the fall that was not a fall, the reaction of Zimbabweans on social media was immediate and filled with laughter. People christened it the fall that was not a fall that was a fall that was not a fall, and on and on, to infinity. Essentially, a flood of memes inundated the internet in response not just to the president’s fall, but to the laughable attempts to spin the fall as a non-fall. Netizens began to manipulate the original image of Mugabe’s fall, using Photoshop and other picture editing software to create funny, mocking and sarcastic versions of the airport incident. These memes about Mugabe’s fall spread rapidly via social media.

Fig. 1: Falling meme 1 In Fig. 1 (Falling meme 1) above, citizens can be seen trolling and mimicking Mugabe’s fall, as part of a real world performance, a form of satirical and playful spectacle that Bakhtin says frees them from everyday restrictive and disciplinary social orders that characterise Mugabe’s regime. It can be argued that this meme

156 signifies the subversion of rules and roles that take place during the carnival characterised by mock crowning and decrowning, whereby the ordinary masses reverse the King’s authority. As Bakhtin (1984:124) says:

Crowning already contains the idea of immanent decrowning: it is ambivalent from the very start. And he who is crowned is the antipode of a real king, a slave or a jester; this act, as it were, opens and sanctifies the inside-outside world of carnival.

In this context, the man in the meme who is wearing Mugabe’s mask and mimicking his fall represents the jester at the carnival who becomes crowned as king (Mugabe), whilst Mugabe (the real king) is de-crowned by his own fall. The symbolism of this is deep because, barely two years later, Mugabe would fall permanently from power via a coup. This time the fall was real. Interestingly, the coup that rendered Mugabe’s fall permanent was itself also memefied as the coup that was not a coup.

Masks and disguises are expressive features of the carnivalesque-grotesque (Davidson, 2008), which allow ordinary individuals to subvert roles by mimicking and mocking those in power. Bakhtin (1981: 6) asserts that “these masks take on an extraordinary significance. They grant the right not to understand, the right to confuse, to tease, to hyperbolise life; the right to parody others while talking.” The grotesque can be regarded as a way of unfolding the concealed aspects of reality (Davidson, 2008). It is a way of unearthing the hidden truth from the so-called reality that is (re)presented by mainstream media. Therefore, this meme is an unofficial representation of the truth by ordinary masses, which could be understood as a mockery of official state narratives that misrepresent truth; an attempt to destabilise dominant discourses which are often recognised as “already made truths” by the state. Hence, in the context of carnival, these memes mark the inversion of all hierarchical structures, official “norms and prohibitions” and are “hostile to all that [is] immortalised and completed” thereby celebrating temporary emancipation from existing truth and established rules (Bakhtin, 1984: 10). Mugabe’s fall would in this sense be taken to signify the onset of mortality, the collapse of a “great man” who had been “elevated to a god” and a king (Siziba and Ncube, 2015) by his ZANU-PF henchmen and sympathisers. The memes about Mugabe’s fall symbolise the hostility of carnival towards all that is immortalised. In this case, Mugabe is the immortalised mortal. An

157 immortalised mortal is gross, grotesque and unbecoming, unless he is Jesus. Earlier, Participant A from FG2 stated, “ZANU-PF people treat Mugabe like Jesus, even newspapers like The Herald and our national TV station ZBC represent him as a holy man”. We noted how Mugabe himself, in response to persistent and annoying death rumours about him, once claimed to be more superior to Jesus, declaring that “I have died many times. I have actually beaten Jesus Christ because he only died once”. Thus memefying the president’s fall went to show that “he was just an ordinary person who could be laughed at.” Laughter destabilises authority and officialdom and subverts the dominant narrative.

Thus, through the digital distortion of the “symbolic embodiment of power” (Musangi, 2012), these memes became counter-narratives that could be understood as a form of subversion within an authoritarian context. From a carnivalesque lens, such memes symbolised oppositional culture which emerged to counter predominant truth. They functioned as “the privileged arm of the weak” ordinary and oppressed individuals in society (Bakhtin, 1984: 123). Falling meme 1 reflects a form of carnival which Hiebert (2003: 113) argues is “no longer a license to be free [but] has become a free license to become.” Carnival is not only a subversion of social hierarchy but represents the subversion of one’s place in those social structures. In this context, carnival becomes a process in which one acquires a role that mocks the limitations which are normally imposed on oneself, thereby upholding and subverting those limitations in carnival participation. In this meme, the individual wearing Mugabe’s mask mocks those limitations which are normally imposed on him. Roles are reversed. Ordinary Zimbabweans, normally under Mugabe’s cosh, now are safe through mimicry. It is Mugabe who actually falls and whose body feel pain.

Normally, Zimbabwean would have kept their laughter private. Subjected to laws that hinder this kind of behaviour such as ridiculing the president, they would have known not to laugh openly. With social media, however, Zimbabweans can laugh openly and anonymously. They can also laugh with strangers, in large numbers. They can also share, produce, re-produce and expand the meme in ways not possible before. Through mimicking Mugabe, the individual subverts those limitations and is given a free license to become the president himself although for a fleeting moment, thereby allowing the “ambivalent subversion of oneself”. The individual acknowledges that he

158 is possessed by an existing social order, and this forces him to respond to and subvert those social structures which he cannot control. In other words, the fact that Zimbabweans cannot control the laws and rules imposed by the state compels them to respond in the only way they can: anonymously. The create memes and invite others to create memes, as well as sharing widely memes that ridicule the president, as a response to and as an intentional subversion of President Mugabe’s grotesque power. Hence, instead of being a victim of the existing social structure, the self becomes a medium that “designs one's own relationship” to those forces through the “reversal of roles between the self and the forces that possess it” (Hiebert, 2003).

It is, of course, possible that, as argued by Willems (2011), these memes may also have been created by Zimbabweans merely as a harmless attempt to use laughter to cope with their everyday socio-economic struggles. That is, such use of memes would illustrate the self-reflective nature of humour, in which the ordinary masses mimic and ridicule their own powerlessness so as to make themselves cope with any crises they are facing. This coincides with the nature of carnival laughter which “is directed at all and everyone, including the carnival's participants” (Bakhtin, 1984: 11-12). As Participant A (FG4) stated:

What I realised was that as Zimbabweans, we create such jokes in order to cope with our suffering. Laughing made it easier for us to continue surviving, with the hope that one day we shall be free from Mugabe’s dictatorship. So, when laughing at these jokes, we also laugh at how powerless we are to change our situation.

The memes of Mugabe are thus also memes of Zimbabweans themselves. Laughter is not only directed at Mugabe but also at those who laugh at him. Furthermore, there is ambivalence in the carnival mode of the anti-Mugabe meme presented here. Although mimicking Mugabe is a way of mocking him, it also signifies just how much ordinary Zimbabweans regard him as a salient figure who is worth their time, effort and ridicule. Not everyone warrants attention. They could just have ignored him. But it seems that Mugabe is too big to ignore. He is a controversial and contested figure. At any rate, who would not like to be in the president’s shoes, powerful and wealthy? The fact that the other individuals in that meme are holding the masked Mugabe masquerade from falling to the ground may signify how Zimbabweans, despite their

159 loathing of him, may still harbour an ambivalence towards their elderly leader. He is still their musharukwa (our elder, for better or worse). Although they despise the president, they still possess some sort of grudging respect for him and even acknowledge his superiority. After all, Mugabe’s fall would not have been significant had he not been a powerful figure. Furthermore, the fall of a hero to zero is more significant than the fall of a zero to zero. The fact that, in the midst of the Mnangagwa administration constant missteps and failures, memes are surfacing once again imploring Mugabe to return to power speak volumes about the complexity of the mimicry of the falling meme.

Apart from masks, the use of the Zimbabwean Flag in the meme is significant. It is here used as a symbol of resistance. Drawing from Evan Mawarire’s use of the national flag during the #ThisFlag protest, a new, dissident meaning was ascribed to the country’s flag. As Mawarire pointed out, the new Zimbabwean flag at independence had initially signified promises and hopes for a “new, free and prosperous Zimbabwe, the land of milk and honey, the promised land.”22 Furthermore, the Zimbabwean flag had been monopolised by ZANU-PF, as before the #ThisFlag protest begun, only government officials would be seen with tags of the flag pinned on their suits, signifying patriotism, allegiance to Mugabe and his ZANU- PF government.23 The Zimbabwean flag had become “a sacred piece of cloth” hogged, monopolised and privatised by the ruling party to promote a “culture of partisan patriotism.” But, nearly four decades down the line, Zimbabweans had begun to question the normative meanings ascribed to the flag by its erstwhile “liberators”. Citizens now started to use the flag to seek “liberation from their liberators.” The flag became a weapon of rebellion amongst the country’s local and diasporic citizens who were fed up with the worsening economic situation, and a multitude of problems including unemployment rate of over 85%, countrywide cash shortages and corruption. Based on the colours of the flag, citizens used the national emblem to confront and demand answers from Mugabe’s government. The flag became a symbol of citizens’ struggles against what was wrong with Mugabe’s Zimbabwe.

22Dailynews (2016-08-07). “Zim Flag, a symbol of defiance”, https://www.dailynews.co.zw/articles/2016/08/07/zim-flag-a-symbol-of-defiance, Accessed 21 Sept 2018. 23Dailynews (2016-08-07). “Zim Flag, a symbol of defiance”, https://www.dailynews.co.zw/articles/2016/08/07/zim-flag-a-symbol-of-defiance, Accessed 21 Sept 2018.

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Corruption, mismanagement and dictatorial leadership had soiled and sullied the national flag.

The use of the Zimbabwean flag by ordinary citizens as a symbol of protest towards Mugabe’s government appears to be a carnivalesque way of disrespecting the president and de-crowning the illegal privatisation and monopoly of the sacred national emblem (the flag). The original meaning of the flag is turned upside-down by ordinary citizens who assign a newer meaning to it, turning it into a symbol of revolution against the ruling government, thereby deconstructing the official discourses. As Presdee (2002) cited in Halnon (2006) proclaims, "carnival is playful and pleasurable revolution, where those normally excluded from the discourse of power may lift their voices in anger and celebration.” Zimbabweans across the world thus turn the flag from being a sign of partisan patriotism to regenerate and renew its meaning to represent a new phase of liberation from Mugabe’s oppression. Hence, this is a form of Bakhtin’s (1984: 48) grotesque realism whereby “the world is destroyed so that it may be regenerated and renewed.” Moreover, as Bakhtin asserts:

to degrade an object does not imply merely hurling it into the void of nonexistence, into absolute destruction, but to hurl it down to the reproductive lower stratum, the zone in which conception and new birth take place. Grotesque realism knows no other lower level; it is the fruitful earth and womb. It is always conceiving. (Bakhtin, 1984: 21)

Thus, as Zimbabweans troll the flag, this does not imply bringing it down into total destruction and nonexistence. Instead, the flag is hurled down to “the zone in which conception and new birth take place,” signifying the beginning of a new form of liberation from officialdom.

Falling meme 1 is by Zimbabweans in the diaspora in Britain. Their grievances are not dissimilar to those of the participants in my study. They have been driven into exile by the economic situation back home. Like the Zimbabweans in South Africa, the Zimbabweans in the UK blame their predicament on Mugabe. Given the oppressive environment in the country under Mugabe’s regime, Zimbabweans in the diaspora often played an important part in supporting anti-Mugabe discourses especially since they were denied the chance to vote from outside the country (Mutsvairo, 2013). Thus, the creation of Mugabe memes by those in the diaspora was

161 driven by the fact that they largely remained voiceless in the country’s internal politics. The internet thus emerged as one of the few the platforms through which they could express their resentment towards Mugabe’s reign of terror. Hence, one can suggest that like carnival which pulls everyone together and “embraces all the people” (Bakhtin 1984: 7), internet memes draw Zimbabweans from all parts of the world together to create a culture of dissent and resistance against Mugabe.

Fig. 2 Falling Meme 2 This meme (Fig.2) is a Photo-shopped version of Mugabe’s fall, in which one can also note the reversal and subversion of rules and roles that exists during carnival. In the meme, Mugabe appears to be falling to the ground whilst running away from a Zimbabwe Republic Police (ZRP) policeman who holds a baton stick ready to thrash the president from behind. What is interesting about this meme is how it signifies the way Mugabe and his regime resorted to the systematic infliction of pain (Mbembe, 1992) on those who challenged him in order to legitimise his rule and to silence any form of opposition. Throughout the years of Mugabe’s reign, the police (ZRP) and CIO agents were repeatedly deployed to discipline, brutalise, intimidate and arrest those who openly opposed or insulted the president including journalists, opposition members and more recently, social media bloggers (Moretti, 2017), which was not

162 only a violation of human’s rights but also a violation of citizens’ constitutional right to freedom of expression. This is a key feature of Mugabeism which according to Mahomva (2013: 2) is “the on-going process of monopolisation of the Zimbabwean political system by President Robert Mugabe...” This meme represents a key feature of the carnivalesque grotesque, whereby roles are reversed, and rules are suspended, as President Mugabe finds himself trapped in the same painful situation which he normally inflicts on innocent civilians. For Bakhtin, the carnivalesque-grotesque represents an effort to “subdue demonic aspects of the world”, which brings out its liberating effect (Davidson, 2008). Hence, the grotesque is a means for ordinary people to attempt controlling the horrible elements which they fear in their society (Davidson, 2008). In this case, these horrible elements are represented by Mugabe’s dictatorial regime which is characterised by use of repressive state apparatuses such as media laws and the police to discipline those who undermine the president’s authority.

Thus, such cruelty by Mugabe’s regime which denied Zimbabweans the right to freely express themselves goes some way to explaining why citizens resorted to the creation of internet memes as a form of expression and as a way to mock and undermine Mugabe's autocratic rule. It is ironic how Mugabe’s own weapon (police) is used against him in this meme to do violence his veneer superiority and invincibility. Hence, the above meme (Fig. 2) is a clear indication of how Zimbabweans use memes and humour to reverse engineer regime violence, and as weapons to fight against daily hurt, dehumanisation and abuse. Out of this emerged a sense of hope, joy and liberation – although admittedly only for a fleeting moment. Such use of humour through internet memes is a form of reverse engineering of violence and striking back against political repression by decentring mainstream narratives and discourses. As Participant B (FG3) pointed out, “these memes threatened Mugabe’s authority in the sense that they poked fun at a very powerful man who was usually portrayed as invincible by state-controlled media.” The memes “somehow destroyed Mugabe’s invincibility, and turned him into a mortal human whom people could laugh at and get away with it.”

Under Mugabe’s reign of terror, Zimbabweans were trapped in a “rationalised world of rules and regulations” (Langman, 2008), and because they lived in fear, they remained

163 politically powerless to foster change. Thus, given such conditions, one can note the re-emergence of Bakhtinian carnivalesque in Zimbabwe, in the form of internet memes, which emerge as forms of transgression and become a site for potential dissidence against Mugabe’s autocracy. As mentioned by the participant above, these memes chipped away at Mugabe’s invincibility and made him seem like a mortal being whom Zimbabweans could make fun of. Internet memes in this context can thus “be understood as a way of claiming agency to resist domination, experience 'utopian moments' and invert disciplinary codes” (Langman, 2008). Hence, political memes in dictatorial environments such as Zimbabwe coud be said to have risen as a response to human rights abuse and dehumanisation, thereby offering “voice and visibility” to the usually oppressed citizens (Mina, 2014). Thus, memes should be regarded as significant counter-hegemonic weapons.

Meme 1b: From hero to scrap

Fig. 3 Falling meme 3: Scrap-heap meme Contrary to dominant state narratives that represent Mugabe as “Zimbabwe’s centrepiece” (Siziba and Ncube, 2015), this “scrap-heap” meme (Fig. 3) challenges the glorification bestowed upon the president. President Mugabe has often been represented as one of the seminal patriotic rulers of Africa (Mpofu, 2014). His name,

164 particularly in ZANU-PF’s annals (at least before the coup in 2017), was expected to be recorded in the pantheon of the greatest African leaders of our time. So, what happened? Mugabe’s heroic status in Zimbabwe is readily – or at least grudgingly – acknowledged, as he played a significant role in enabling the country to attain independence from British colonialism. Moreover, in the early years of his rule, Zimbabwe’s education system became one of the best in Africa, with a high adult literacy rate of over 85%.24 It is thus not all bad news when it comes to Mugabe. As Tendi (2011: 308) asserts, Mugabe was often represented in international media as “the independence struggle hero who seemed initially a progressive egalitarian, [he] gradually became toxic through his attachment to power during a long and increasingly repressive spell in office.”

Despite being an initially progressive (or seemingly progressive) leader, Mugabe’s attempt to monopolise Zimbabwe’s political system makes him belong to the “scrap heap of history”. As he sought to maintain his hold on power by any means necessary, Mugabe presided over turning Zimbabwe from being “the jewel of Africa” to a “beggar basket” (Moretti, 2017). This fall from grace is echoed by most of the participants. For instance, Participant C (FG4) states that the “stories we heard about Mugabe while growing up and the books we read about him at school” were positive, showing him “as a great person in the beginning when he became president. He was the hero of our country”. However, “with time he became cruel and greedy, as a result people begun to despise him. Now he has fallen to nothingness because of the bad things he did to us and to our country”.

The term “scrap” mainly refers to pieces of leftover or junk that no longer have value and which no one wants to use. In the Falling meme 3 (Fig. 3), one can note all kinds of unwanted items: garbage, old tyres, rusty car parts, cans, and so forth. In this case, Mugabe is being regarded as part of that heap of scrap, which signifies that he is worthless garbage that does not deserve to be glorified as the “great Zimbabwean king” (Siziba and Ncube, 2015) or as a “demi-god” (Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2015). This meme punctures Mugabe’s godliness and suggests that his shit stinks just like the

24Zimfact.org (2018-03-13). “Where does Zimbabwe’s education stand?” https://zimfact.org/factsheet-where- does-zimbawe’s-education-stand/, Accessed 25 September 2018.

165 scrap-heap and garbage yard where Zimbabweans now want him to go. In a carnivalesque sense, the symbolic reduction of a powerful leader to mere “scrap” is a form of speaking back to power through challenging hegemonic ideas and degradation of the president’s superiority. This constitutes “the lowering of all that is high…” (Bakhtin, 1984: 19-20). Hence, this meme is a reflection of how the almighty Mugabe (all that is high) has been completely lowered to scrap and junk, a reminder that his shit stinks too. In addition, the scrap heap of history signifies a list of some of the fallen dictators in world history who like Mugabe experienced a tragic and unhappy demise, the likes of Napoleon, Hitler, Mussolini, Idi Amin, Mobutu Sese Seko, Muammar Gaddafi, among others. Notable in the meme is the presence of former South African president Jacob Zuma, who seems to be falling along with his counterpart Mugabe onto the “scrap heap of history”. The two have since been nicknamed, by opponents on the internet, as the “destruction boys” to signify how they both caused real or perceived damage to their nations whilst in power. Mugabe and Zuma are held up as leaders who aggressively exploited state resources for personal benefit. They thus gradually became vastly unpopular due to corruption and power hunger.25.

25News24 (2017-11-23). “Zuma and Mugabe mirror images”, https://m.news24.com/MyNews24/zuma-and- mugbabe-mirror-images-20171123, Accessed 30 September 2018.

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Meme 2: Mugabe is beyond mad and senile

Fig. 4: Falling meme 4: Presidential lunacy In this meme, Mugabe is trolled as someone who is inflicted with a special or unique strain of “old-man” madness. As Mugabe got older, he seemed prone to being cuckolded by his much younger wife Grace, and thus to act in increasingly erratic ways. He would repeat speeches, forget his lines, burst out in uncharacteristic ways, and insult his opponents at every turn. These signs of presidential lunacy were considered unbecoming of a respected and “sanctified” president. The form of language used here can be characterised as billingsgate language or language of the marketplace which according to Bakhtin (1984: 17) was “excluded from the sphere of official speech… [as it] broke its norms, [and was therefore] transferred to the familiar sphere of the marketplace.” Billingsgate language is characterised by use of impertinent expressions that are meant to disrespect officialdom. Hence, by regarding Mugabe as someone who is “one step beyond madness”, audiences are liberated from social norms and structured hierarchies that normally prevent them from voicing out their opinions.

The creation of such memes characterises festive laughter which allows Zimbabweans the opportunity to invert certain ideological codes, thereby offering a sense of freedom. As Participant A (FG1) stated, laughter was and still is the best medicine because “it allows to make fun of those in power and [momentarily] liberates

167 us from harsh conditions, like we experienced during Mugabe’s reign… Laughter gives us a breath of fresh air and these memes allow us to laugh freely without fear.” Thus, in a carnival sense, one can note that Mugabe memes contain “the gay, liberating and regenerating element of laughter” (Bakhtin, 1984: 51). For Zimbabweans, carnival laughter becomes a remedy that temporarily releases them from the harshness of the ruling government, thereby creating an alternative space for free articulation of dissent behaviour. Bakhtin (1984: 10) says that “during carnival time, a special type of communication evolved that led to the creation of a special form of marketplace speech and gesture, frank and free, permitting no distance between those who came into contact with each other,” and thus, these memes represent this “marketplace speech” expressed in carnival.

The types of flippant humour used in this “presidential lunacy” meme are sarcasm and silliness. Mugabe appears to be the lead dancer of a band that seems to be dancing crazily to a silly song. It is interesting to note that the six men behind Mugabe in the meme make up an English band from the 1970s called Madness, and they produced a song titled “one step beyond” which has meaningless lyrics and a disoriented “crazy” beat. Hence this meme associates Mugabe with being at the head of a meaningless procession going nowhere. The band “Madness” (the six men behind Mugabe in the meme) may signify Mugabe’s idiotic followers, mainly members of his party ZANU-PF, and Mugabe being the president of ZANU-PF is represented as the insane leader of a political party full of idiots.

The term “one step beyond” may signify that Mugabe’s behaviour is getting to be that of a lunatic – or has already crossed the threshold of sanity. As Participant E (FG1) commented in relation to this meme:

That one is a very foolish person. That man’s brain doesn’t function well. A person who murders so many people and doesn’t feel any sympathy! It’s madness, you see those psychopaths in movies who kill people for no reason and end up with brains that don’t function well, that’s what Mugabe is like, he has the spirit of cruelty. This joke depicts that he is at the forefront of madness more than anyone else including those at Ingutsheni.

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Ingutsheni is the largest psychiatric hospital in Zimbabwe, located in Bulawayo, the country’s second largest city26. In this comment, the participant implies that Mugabe must not be in the presidential mansion but, instead, must be in a madhouse. He is depicted as one inflicted with serious mental illness that not only cannot be cured, but is turning the whole country into a laughing stock and a madhouse.

This meme itself reflects a kind of “new media idiocy” which allows individuals to express political discontent about political idiocy and to create subcultures that oppose dominant “lunacy” (cf. Goriunova, 2012). The meme, notably, is another photo-shopped version of Mugabe’s 2015 fall. Thus, instead of sympathising with the president when he fell, they reduced his ordeal to a joke, signifying how little they now thought of him. It is important to note that even though new media idiocy may appear as only light, funny and humorous, there is a certain darkness which is revealed by such idiocy. In this case, this meme seems funny and silly but in actual fact, it is meant to warn about the dangers of a mad despot. Secondly, it makes us laugh at something that is, frankly, not that funny. Certainly, Mugabe’s despotism was not funny for its victims. In this regard, the performance of idiocy (the creation of memes) becomes a kind of carnivalesque, a form of transgression and resistance that allows ordinary citizens to speak back to power, reverse engineer typical violence, and to participate within the digital public sphere through creative, subversive expression. In addition, as suggested by Shifman (2014) and Duerringer (2016), such internet memes are a form of “vernacular rhetoric” that functions to build political consciousness; a kind of unofficial speech and bottom-up expression that permeates the digital sphere and arises to resist officialdom in aesthetic and humorous ways.

26Electives.net (n.d). “Preview: Ingutsheni Hospital”, https://www.electives.net/hospital/169/preview/ingutshenihospital, Accessed 3 October 2018.

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Meme 3: Mugabe is Gay

Fig. 5 Sarcasm and irony are the main type of humour used in these memes that blatantly mock Mugabe as a homosexual – a reversal into the thing that he hates most. Mugabe totally detested homosexuality, dismissing homosexuals as “worse than dogs and pigs”27 and declaring that homosexuality was unnatural and un-African. The president made it clear that he would never allow homosexuality to exist in Zimbabwe and also declared that the act “degrades human dignity” which clearly indicated his hatred for this type of sexuality. American President Obama, on the other hand, strongly advocated for the recognition of gay rights and their acknowledgement as part of human rights throughout the world. After the United States had passed a bill allowing for same sex marriages, Mugabe mocked the American President saying that he would travel to Washington and ask for Obama’s hand in marriage.28 By mocking Obama, Mugabe further expressed his disgust for homosexuality. Mugabe’s mocking, however, led to trolling and further mocking memes. Most of these were sarcastic memes that derided the Zimbabwean president as a closet gay man who had just married Obama.

27Reuters (2017-09-04). “Worse than dogs and pigs: life as a gay man in Zimbabwe”, http://www.reuters.com/worsethandogsandpigs:lifeasagaymaninzimbabwe, Accessed 6 April 2018. 28News24 (2016-11-07). “Zimbabwe says no to homosexuality”, https://www.news24.com/Africa/Zimbabwe/zimbabwe-says-no-to-homosexuality-20161107, Accessed 6 April 2018.

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Shifman (2014: 86) argues that “bad texts make good memes in contemporary participatory culture” and therefore, meaningful political expressions in the form of memes emerge from bad texts, such as President Mugabe’s intolerant remarks about homosexuals in this case, to critique and counter the homophobic dictator through humour, mockery and laughter. Through carnival laughter, silliness and flippancy, these memes sought to undermine Mugabe’s authority, “commandments”, and beliefs through cringe-worthy memes of him and Obama making out. Carnival laughter in this sense can be recognised as “people’s second life” (Bakhtin, 1984: 8), which liberates Zimbabweans from both “external censorship” and “from the great interior censor; it liberates from…fear of the scared, of prohibitions…of power,” (Bakhtin, 1984: 94). In the above meme (Fig. 5), while Mugabe blows a kiss to Obama, there are people ecstatically celebrating in the background. Such celebration could signify the rebirth and liberation experienced by individuals during carnival moments. Moreover, by suggesting that “Mugabe weds Obama”, this meme signifies a topsy-turvy world which represents reversed roles. Obama is shown in the “bad text” screwing his mouth in a gesture that is not quite a kiss. He seems reluctant to return Mugabe’s kiss, for some reason.

Mugabe’s proclivities, such as his attitude to homosexuals, are thus also a target for satiric, funny and cringe-worthy memes. As we noted in Chapter 2, Mugabe’s antipathy to gays and lesbians was legendary. He had once referred to homosexuals “as worse than dogs and pigs”. Participant D (FG3) commented on the meme showing Mugabe marrying US president Obama, saying:

It is wrong to discriminate against gays and lesbians especially in this 21st century which we live in. I mean as young people we are exposed to such kind of a lifestyle. Homos are also people, and Mugabe has no right to dismiss them. If Zimbabwe is truly a free country then homosexuality should be allowed to exist, after all each person has the right to choose his/her own sexuality. Who is he [Mugabe] to regard homos as taboo, ngasiyane nesu hedu (he should just leave us). I mean homos should be allowed to flaunt themselves around freely like they do here in SA pasina kana dhiri (without a problem). ZvaMugabe izvi ndezvekupenga (Mugabe’s beliefs are crazy). That’s why these memes were created, to disrespect (him).

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The participant, who refers to homosexuals as “homos” (a term which can itself be considered derogatory), regards Mugabe’s attitude towards gays and lesbians to be a sign of how dictatorial, senile, backward and old-fashioned the president was. Participant E (FG3) further stated that he thought that the memes about Mugabe marrying Obama may have been created by gay people as a way to hit back against Mugabe’s traditional resistance to gay rights. As he says, “It’s like the homos also wanted to frustrate him [Mugabe], it was their way of talking back to him and also bending the rules which prohibit such acts in our country. The gays also want to be recognised.”

Thus, one can argue that these memes provide a carnival space where Zimbabweans are free to express a newfound culture of resistance against dictatorial domination. Mugabe’s “sacred” image is dishonoured through these memes. Since Mugabe declared that homosexuality degrades human dignity, then the creation of these memes signifies the degradation of Mugabe’s dignity, as he is depicted as a homosexual himself. Degradation, in the Bakhtinian sense refers to “the lowering of all that is high, spiritual, ideal, abstract…” (Bakhtin, 1984: 19-20), it is the main element of grotesque-realism that leads to rebirth, which in this case refers to the freedom gained by citizens to openly mock the president and subvert an established order. Hence, these memes signify “the suspension of all hierarchical rank, privileges, norms, and prohibitions” (Bakhtin, 1984: 10) in an attempt dismiss the president’s remarks about homosexuals as irrational, whilst disrespecting his rule. As Mina (2014) argues, memes possess "great power and beauty" and should therefore be seen as "a small reclamation of power” that challenges officialdom through remix, humour and mockery. Moreover, it can be argued that since the homosexual community has been largely excluded from the dominant public sphere (state media) in Zimbabwe due to President Mugabe’s commandment (cf. Mbembe) against these people, digital media enabled such marginalised groups to “gather in alternative public spheres, creating narratives that deviate from the dominant hegemonic line” (Gal et al, 2016) in the form of memes. This digital distortion of the “symbolic embodiment of power” (i.e. President Mugabe) (Musangi, 2012) is represent in this symbolic skirmish with an avowedly homophobic leader.

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Fig. 6 This “bad text” (Fig. 6) is a satirical response to his mockery statement that “…since president Obama endorses same-sex marriage, [and] advocates homosexual people…I shall travel to Washington, DC, get down on my knee and ask his hand.”29 Thus, the phrase in the meme which says “Meet the newest couple in town. Obama said yes to Mugabe” insinuates that Mugabe actually fantasised about being gay, thereby representing that topsy-turvy world in which the president seems to be confused about his own sexuality. Hence, the meme is a deliberate reversal and a perversion of Mugabe’s mockery statement about asking Obama to marry him; it represents a travesty of Mugabe’s ideal world which abominates the act of homosexuality. Mugabe had declared that “Obama came to Africa saying Africa must allow gay marriages... God destroyed the Earth because of these sins. Weddings are for a man and a woman.”30 But then, in the abstract, make-believe and fantasy-filled

29News24 (2016-11-07). “Zimbabwe says no to homosexuality”, https://www.news24.com/Africa/Zimbabwe/zimbabwe-says-no-to-homosexuality-20161107, Accessed 6 April 2018. 30The Huffington Post (2017-11-22). “I have beaten Christ: These are Robert Mugabe’s craziest quotes”, https://www.huffingtonpost.co.za/2017/11/22/i-have-beaten-christ-these-are-robert-mugabes-craziest- quotes_a_23285023/, Accessed 15 July 2018.

173 world represented by these memes, Mugabe goes on to practice the same act which he supposedly abhors.

In this case (Fig. 6), Mugabe’s statement that “weddings are for a man and woman” is humourized as the meme depicts Mugabe’s wedding with Obama, thereby turning Mugabe’s official declaration upside-down, and presenting a new form of discourse that allows weddings for a man and a man in Zimbabwe; this can be seen as a carnivalesque way of representing Mugabe’s statement as absurd. Therefore, these memes represent sarcastic ways of reversing dominant narrative and discourse. The memes are ways of carnivalising Mugabe’s domination by decentring and destabilising authoritative discourses that are meant to be the commandment or order of the day. Thus, as Bakhtin (1990: 48-49) asserts, “…Carnival turns the world upside-down. The laws, prohibitions, and limits that determine the habitual order of life are not in force for the duration of the carnival…” Hence, in the context of carnival, these memes offer Zimbabweans an opportunity to overturn established laws that normally prohibit them from openly insulting or undermining the president’s authority, such as the Criminal Law (Codification and Reform) Act. As we noted, however, some participants support Mugabe’s position against homosexuality. Not surprisingly, these participants disapprove of the memes that depict Mugabe as a homosexual.

Meme 4: Bob the invincible old sleepy head The main type of humour employed in these memes is sarcasm as each meme is meant to blatantly mock the president who was, in his last few years in power, usually caught sleeping on camera during meetings, international conventions or even at graduation ceremonies. In the last years of his rule, the dictatorial leader had come to be represented as an invincible god who would rule the country until death (Siziba and Ncube, 2015). Indeed, his wife Grace claimed that Mugabe could still rule Zimbabwe from the grave. In mainstream ZANU-PF discourse he was considered to be miraculously healthy and fit, despite his old age. He claimed that he had the heart of a 45-year old, and a body that “rejected” illness. Hence, the emergence of these memes symbolised a form of power from below which arose as the “unofficial truth” to counter the “official” discourse that Mugabe is still fit and healthy to rule the country. One can argue that “as opposed to the official” truths, these memes celebrate a

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“temporary liberation from the prevailing truth and from the established order…” (Bakhtin, 1984: 10).

Fig. 7 Even after nearly four decades of Mugabe’s rule, ZANU-PF still chose Mugabe to represent the party at the 2018 presidential election. Hence, this meme mocks ZANU- PF’s presidential candidate, signifying that the ruling party was irrational in its decision to choose an old, doddering, unfit and tired man to become the country’s leader for a new five year term. One can argue that since ZANU-PF is the ruling party, it creates certain narratives that come to be acknowledged as “already made truths”, hence this meme degrades the so called “sacrosanct” president by challenging mainstream discourses that represent Mugabe as a youthful leader who is fit enough to continue as president and as a man who is “immune from human weaknesses” (Siziba and Ncube, 2015). The meme (Fig. 7) disregards and derides ZANU-PF’s choice of a leader as a hopelessly weak man who should not be found anywhere near the seat of power. From a carnivalesque point of view, this meme allows Zimbabweans to “suspend all conventions and established truths” (Bakhtin, 1984: 34) and to discredit Mugabe’s “sacred” power. Though only temporarily, citizens have the freedom to subvert official rules that usually prevent them from free speech.

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The creator(s) of this meme are able to distance themselves from ZANU-PF. This is clear in the statement “The man ZANU-PF want to rule our country.” In other words, the creator of the meme links ZANU-PF to Mugabe, as corrupt alter-egos, while also suggesting that ZANU-PF had no right to foist a senile president on the country. Furthermore, Zimbabwe and Mugabe are framed as separate entities, contrary to state narratives that depict Mugabe as Zimbabwe or as the owner of Zimbabwe. By saying “our country” the creator of the meme identifies with ordinary Zimbabweans, the oppressed and marginalised masses who are frustrated by the corniness and sinister-ness of the ruling party in seeking to choose an old “sleepy head” like Mugabe to rule the country. In the context of carnival, the phrase “our country” suggests that carnival is universal in nature, and there is no “division into performers and spectators” since “everyone communes in the carnival act” (Bakhtin, 1984: 122). In this case, carnival becomes universal in the sense that most ordinary Zimbabwean were captive to Mugabe’s seemingly unending rule.

Fig. 8 State narratives often sought to cover up the fact that Mugabe would be sleeping during meetings. Spin-doctors would argue, for instance, that the president would just be resting and protecting his eyes from bright light. President Mugabe’s

176 spokesperson at the time, George Charamba, stated that “at 93, there is something that happens to the eyes and the president cannot suffer bright lights. If you look at his poise, he looks down, avoids direct lighting.”31 Hence, state narratives often found ways to create a form of “official” truth that they wanted people to believe in an attempt to preserve the president’s revered image. Yet, in a carnivalesque sense, this meme (Fig. 8) represents the “unofficial” (untold) truth normally “excluded from the sphere of official speech” (Bakhtin, 1984: 17). Mugabe’s lack of concentration and boredom during such very important meetings is taken to be revealing of his attitude: he does not care about his own country, which has continuously deteriorated socially and economically under his rule. The meme also signifies that the president has little intention of doing anything to solve his country’s dire situation, and therefore is selfish and uncaring. One can argue that this meme takes the fact that Mugabe is old, drained and unable to rule to make a political demand that he should step down as Zimbabwean leader. On the other hand, this meme may also signify Mugabe’s stubbornness and reluctance to resign despite his age and inability to continue as leader. Moreover, the phrase “Zimbabwe, they just don’t care” in this meme suggests that the creator of the meme is addressing Zimbabweans, and showing the alienation separating the rest of Zimbabwe from the coterie of hangers on and patronage networks that sustain Mugabe while ruining the country.

31Newsweek.com (2017-05-12). “Zimbabwe’s Mugabe is not sleeping in meetings – He is just protecting his eyes: Spokesman – Gaffey, C”, https://www.newsweek.com/zimbabwe-robert-mugabe-asleep-607997, Accessed 15 August 2018.

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Fig. 9 Participants interpreted this meme (Fig. 9) as pointing to the many cases of Zimbabwe’s arrested development and missed opportunities. In particular, the brain drain signifies the losses of the many unemployed graduates produced each year from the country’s universities. Mugabe was blamed for destroying hope for graduates. The lack of jobs, burgeoning poverty, the deteriorating economic situation was blamed at Mugabe feet. Mugabe was the Chancellor of all state universities in Zimbabwe (Siziba and Ncube, 2015), which meant that he was the chief principal (“headmaster”) of these institutions. Since carnival allows citizens to undermine the authority of those in power, this meme undermines Mugabe’s authority as Chancellor and derides him as an incapable leader. Hence, the gun held by the Chancellor symbolises that instead of capping the graduates with his cap of knowledge like he should normally do at every graduation ceremony, declaring them as official alumni ready to pursue their professional ambitions, President Mugabe violently shattered those dreams instead. He literally put a gun in the faces of the graduates and drove them away to neighbouring countries. As Participant A (FG2) opined, “Look at all the graduates that we have in our country, but most of them remain unemployed and Mugabe is the cause of it all.” The Participant mocked Mugabe as a goblin. A goblin, also known as chikwambo in Shona, “is a mischievous, and usually very unpleasant, vengeful and greedy creature whose primary purpose is to bring trouble to

178 humankind.”32 Thus, depicting Mugabe as a goblin is an attempt to reveal his unnatural vices – an unkind, greedy, hideous and vindictive creature whose sole aim is to cause trouble and destroy hope. Use of the term goblin to describe Mugabe is an example of Bakhtin’s (1984) billingsgate language, whereby individuals use such impertinent terms to insult and suppress officialdom.

At the same time, this meme plays with the image of Mugabe’s invincibility (that is, despite his old age and apparent weariness). The meme trolls the fantasy of ZANU- PF and Mugabe’s spin-doctors that although Mugabe was now incapable of ruling, they still believed that nothing could stop him from staying in power. The armour he wears and the gun which he carries in the meme represent the narrative of Mugabe’s indomitability which suggested that he was undying and untouchable. Moreover, the robot-like figure of President Mugabe in Fig. 9, can be equated to the hero in the American police movie called Robocop.33 Robocop was a cop who, after suffering the misfortune of getting shot and left to die, was revived and became a strong half-man, half-robot superhuman law enforcer. Robocop was not scared to face those who wronged him. This meme could be interpreted as saying that Mugabe was the Zimbabwean Robocop. Although his body was no longer fit, he still had the ability to resurrect and deal with his enemies and with anyone who tried to oppose him. The gun that he is holding was interpreted by the participants to signify how violently he dealt with those that challenged his dominance. The use of a gun represents how Mugabe resorted to coercion (through the use of repressive state apparatus, mainly the police (ZRP) and the military) to hold on to power. Despite efforts by the opposition to remove him from power throughout the years, Mugabe found ways to justify his hold on power. He claimed, for instance, that he was appointed by God, and once declared that “only God, who appointed me, will remove me – not the MDC, not the British. Only God will remove me!”34 This meme, although it undermines Mugabe’s

32Mythology.net (2016-10-21). “Mythical creatures: Goblin – Monstrous Creature from European Folklore”, https://mythology.net/mythical-creatures/goblin/, Accessed 18 August 2018. 33IMDb.com (n. d). “RoboCop1987”, https://m.imdb.com>RoboCop1987>plotsummary, Accessed 18 August 2018. 34Mail and Guardian (2017-11-23). “Only God will remove me and other Mugabe quotes”, https://mg.co.za/article/2017-11-23-only-god-will-remove-me-and-other-mugabe-quotes, Accessed 22 August 2018.

179 authority, also plays on – and reiterates – the fact of his supposed indestructibility, something which for a long time Zimbabweans feared.

Robocop, though viewed as the cop hero, one who was helping curb crime, was also felt to be abusing his power in the sense that he got away with crime himself as he set out to punish those who tried to kill him in the name of justice. However, his crimes were seldom questioned. Mugabe, a bit like Robocop, abused his power also in the name of justice and the anti-sanctions fight. He got away with crimes against humanity, such as Gukurahundi, Murambatsvina, the intimidation and harassment of journalists and opposition members, and so on. Although his ZANU-PF followers depicted him as their hero, having led the country into independence, Mugabe is meme-fied as a villain who did more harm than good. He is the one whose shit stank a little too much thereby leading the country into a mess that it is struggling to extricate itself from. Learned, yes, he was (hence the graduation cap), but the meme depicts him as a sleeping graduate and a leader who was now very old, tired, bored and zombie-like.

Meme 5: The return of Hitler in black

Fig. 10 Mugabe has previously actually equated himself to Hitler, declaring:

I am still the Hitler of the time. This Hitler has only one objective: justice for his people, sovereignty for his people, recognition of

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the independence of his people and their rights over their resources. If that is Hitler, then let me be Hitler tenfold. Ten times, that is what we stand for.35

The main type of humour used here in this meme is comparison and analogy, in which two similar features have been combined to create a humorous situation. In this case, Mugabe is being compared to Hitler, one of the most notorious leaders in world history.36 Hitler ruled Nazi Germany from 1933 to 1945 and waged continental and world war, caused grim human experiments, and executed millions in concentration camps. A total of about 11 million people were reportedly killed under Hitler’s regime (Snyder, 2011). Furthermore, most of Hitler’s speeches were filled with claims of racial superiority and hate mongering against those he considered weak. Hitler has been labelled as “one of the most destructive leaders in human history”.37

Like Hitler, during his rule, Mugabe committed crimes against humanity, ordering the killing and torturing of many innocent civilians, from the 1980s Gukurahundi massacres, where approximately 20 000 civilians were slaughtered in Matabeleland by the notorious 5th Brigade, through to the mid-200s when he launched Operation Murambatsvina to destroy ordinary people’s homes and livelihoods in the informal sector. In violent election campaigns, opposition supporters were beaten, severely tortured or even killed. Many journalists and opposition figures were harassed, tortured and intimidated for either daring to challenge his supremacy or for reporting issues considered as “taboo” by mainstream discourses, such as the president’s health or his election defeats by the opposition MDC.

Participant B (FG3) states that “Mugabe is no different from Hitler… He is the Hitler of our time, and he takes pride in causing pain to his own people without taking responsibility for it. That man is demonic and inhuman, and as a young Zimbabwean I totally despise him”. Mugabe’s Hitler analogical memes in Zimbabwe thus arose as

35The Independent (2014-02-21). “Robert Mugabe eccentric quotes: from Hitler to Jesus”, https://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/robert-mugabes-most-eccentric-quotes-9143930.html, Accessed 25 August 2018. 36List25.com (2018-01-15) “25 most evil leaders in history”, https://list25.com/25-most-evil-leaders-in- history/5/, Accessed 25 August 2018. 37Economictimes.indiatimes.com (2016-05-05). “10 most ruthless leaders of all time”, https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/slideshows/people/10-most-ruthless-leaders-of-all-time/adolf- hitler/slideshow/52120226.cms, Accessed 25 August 2018.

181 a response to the president’s dictatorial tendencies. These memes represent artistic and visual expressions created by netizens within Zimbabwe’s hostile environment as a way to vent their anger and frustration toward the “darkness of Mugabe’s reign of terror” which they compared (rightly or wrongly) to that of Hitler. Yet, the comparison of Mugabe to Hitler, while it may be factually and analogically imprecise, can be seen as a “cathartic outlet for everyday aggression” (Halnon, 2006). In a carnivalesque sense, contrary to state narratives that represent Mugabe as an omnipotent and popular leader, these memes comparing him to Hitler function “blacken” and thus to de-crown the Zimbabwean president by delegitimation.

Fig. 11 This meme (Fig. 11), captioned with the phrase “Hitler Now Available in Black” suggests that Hitler has reincarnated in the form of a black dictator, Mugabe. Drawing on Mbembe (1992), the expression shown on Mugabe’s face in this picture signifies that Mugabe’s rule was the “commandment” (cf. Mbembe 2001) which meant that his word alone was the order of the day and contained official meanings (official truths) that were not negotiable and that no one could challenge. Moreover, Mugabe’s regime established rules and ways to legitimise his rule and to silence any form of opposition, mostly through the promulgation of strict media laws and resorting to

182 violence and punishment (the systematic infliction of pain). Hence, the meme signifies Mugabe’s “reign of terror” which Zimbabweans were subjected to.

Mugabe, in the quote in which he compares himself to Hitler, playfully or seriously sees Hitler as his mentor and considers himself to be an egalitarian leader with only good intentions for his people. Typically, Mugabe totally insulates himself from all his wrongdoings. Here is a man who can do no wrong; he considers his actions as justice for the people and claims to recognise the rights of his people. If he commits atrocities and inflicts pain on those same people, it is for their own good. Rights can be violated if Mugabe is fighting for his people. Mugabe’s statement reflects the denial of accountability for all the problems that Zimbabwe has faced over the years. Notable, this is a major element of Mugabeism (Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2015). The president regarded himself as the country’s messiah and saviour.

It is ironic how Mugabe claims to recognise people’s “rights over their resources” when his regime looted those resources, including farms and diamonds, feathering their own nests. Needless to say, the majority of Zimbabwe were left to suffer in poverty. Many post-colonial African states seem to be characterised by such excessive abuse of power (Mbembe, 1992). Their leaders become greedy dictators who only care about accumulating wealth for themselves and their counterparts. Carnivalesque forms of resistance such as internet memes emerge in this context to mock and undermine the power of those dictators. On the other hand, I argue that these memes reinforced Mugabe’s rule as the ultimate commander of the country and signified citizens’ acknowledgement of his superiority and their own powerlessness as they continued to suffer under his tyrannical rule, which demonstrates the ambivalence of carnival.

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Meme 6: The devil must burn in hell

Fig.12 Comparison and irony are the main types of humour used in this meme (Fig.12) which is a representation of Mugabe as the devil. The red horns on Mugabe’s head represent the devil’s horns. Although no one really knows what the devil looks like in actuality, he is visualised as a horrible monster with horns on his head. These are the same horns on Mugabe, which symbolise his infernality. The flame in the meme blazing at the bottom may signify hellfire, while the red arrow next to Mugabe’s face seem to be sending Mugabe to go and be domiciled in hell where he belongs. Representing Mugabe as a devil is a way to demean the president and to attribute to him qualities of destructive evil. There is also in the meme symbolism of the blood of all innocent civilians who suffered at the hands of Mugabe. Interestingly, the devil was once God’s beloved angel, given much power and wisdom. However, he became self-absorbed and started to abuse this power; “he became proud and exalted himself…he wished to put himself in God’s place” until he was eventually cast out of heaven.38

38Activechristianity.org (n. d). “What does the Bible say about Satan? https://activechristianity.org/what-does- the-Bible-say-about-satan, Accessed 13 September 2018.

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Similarly, Mugabe was chosen by the people and given power to rule at independence but began to abuse that power and thus became progressively unpopular with his people. Like the devil, he exalted himself and desired to monopolise the country, which later led to his long-awaited downfall after thirty-seven years. This meme (Fig.12) thus represents Mugabe as a leader who is neither pure nor holy, contrary to state narratives which represent him as a divine ruler – “the second son of God” (Mpofu, 2014). In this meme, Mugabe is personified as the devil who was “toxic” from the beginning of his reign. The meme (Fig.12) ridicules the president by revealing a shadowy, dark face reflecting sinister intentions. The creation of such memes is thus a form of carnivalesque-grotesque which presents a limitless challenge to the hierarchical and moral structures of everyday life. Publicly insulting President Mugabe would result in dire consequences such as those faced by Dzamara and many others. But through memes, Zimbabweans mock the very thing that they fear, their “devil” of a president.

Meme 7: The corrupt and deceitful thief

Fig. 13 This meme depicts President Mugabe as a fraudulent thief who plundered the state’s resources and, in the process, ruined the country’s economy. Despite the land reform programme, there still remains unequal distribution of land in Zimbabwe. Mugabe and his ZANU-PF officials seized most of the farms for themselves, and looted state

185 resources. Thus, the term “stolen farms” used in the meme is an oxymoron in the sense that Mugabe considered this as land appropriation and land distribution, yet the majority of citizens are still landless. So, to ordinary citizens and to the opposition, Mugabe and his party stole these farms. The third phase of the liberation struggle which was supposedly meant to be “hondo yeminda” (struggle for land) turned into a race to the bottom for self-aggrandisement. The post-colony is characterised by greedy despots who are mainly concerned about accumulating wealth for themselves. In the case of Zimbabwe, the curse of Mugabeism struck, and the post colony was marred by corruption, patronage, greed, deceit, violation of people’s rights and the theft of public coffers. This meme is thus an ironic representation of Mugabe’s involvement in plundering state resources at the expense of his people’s suffering. The Barclays Bank visa card which Mugabe holds in the meme represents the off- shore accounts of looted state monies that he is rumoured to have, as well as his hypocrisy in claiming to hate the British and the West. This came at a time when Zimbabwe was and remains in the grip of serious shortage of cash in Zimbabwean banks, with citizens queuing up daily at banks to get cash which was either limited or not available at all.

State narratives, as usual, kept mum about the government’s involvement in any form of corruption. In 2015, the state is said to have received about $15 billion revenue worth of diamonds, yet this seems to have gone missing, with Mugabe himself blaming Chinese companies that were mining the diamonds at Chiadzwa for robbing the state of this wealth. On his 92nd birthday President Mugabe stated that “We have not received much from the diamond industry at all. I don’t think we have exceeded $2 billion, yet we think more than $15 billion has been earned...Lots of smuggling and swindling has taken place and the companies that have been mining, I want to say, robbed us of our wealth.”39 Yet, being the head of state and government, Mugabe was ultimately responsible for the management of the state’s resources and had the authority to prevent this looting. Hence, the opposition and other ordinary Zimbabwean citizens demanded answers from the government about the mysterious disappearance of such a huge amount of revenue that could have been used to pay

39The Standard (2016-03-14). “Mugabe and the 15 billion question”, https://www.thestandard.co.zw/2016/03/14/Mugabe-and-the-15-billion-question/, Accessed 14 June 2018.

186 back all debts owed by Zimbabwe to international financial institutions such as IMF and World Bank.

It is in this context that the yellow colour on the Zimbabwean flag, which initially symbolised the vast availability of mineral wealth in the country, now has a new meaning ascribed to that colour by the #ThisFlag campaign. It has morphed into a demand for answers from the government with regards to the disappearance of minerals worth billions of dollars.40 In other words, Mugabe and his ZANU-PF government allegedly stole these minerals just like they stole the farms. The disappearance of those diamonds was never accounted for. Anyone who dared to seek for answers – like Itai Dzamara – concerning that issue would face dire consequences under Mugabe’s reign of terror. The above meme therefore exposes how throughout the years of his rule, Mugabe was a hypocrite who failed to provide economic justice for his people. Instead, he presided over corruption, “state capture” and looting of state resources for personal benefit. As Participant D (FG4) stated;

“Mugabe should be serious! Think about all those monies that disappeared without anyone taking account for them, aaaah! All that money from diamonds just disappeared, where did that 15 billion go to tell me? What about Bob, how many farms does he own, just one person? Its stealing from people, yet we are suffering like this. That one is a thief for real, and he doesn’t even think about his own people”.

As Pearce and Hajizada (2014) argue, memes and humour may function to humiliate, embarrass and taint the honour of those in power. One can argue that these memes are part of what Bakhtin refers to as intentional hybridity (when one voice ironizes and unmasks the other within the same utterance), a kind of “Third Space” (Homi Bhabha, 1990 cited in Veit-Wild, 1997) that emerges in the cyberspace as an active form of political resistance to hegemony.

Use of double-voiced discourse The memes presented here suggest that Mugabe memes contain an element of Bakhtin’s double-voiced discourse. Bakhtin (1984) distinguishes between monologic

40Dailynews (2016-08-07). “Zim Flag: a symbol of defiance – Kamhungira, T”, https://www.dailynews.co.zw/articles/2016/08/07/zim-flag-a-symbol-of-defiance, Accessed 21 Sept 2018.

187 discourse (single-voiced discourse) and double-voiced discourse (dialogic discourse). In a monological world, “truth” is abstractly and systematically constructed from the dominant perspective, and the ability of each subject to create independent meaning is denied. In monologism, a single perspective or consciousness monopolises the entire field and therefore integrates all ideologies, values, and practices that are considered as significant; these become the dominant ideologies, commandments and already made truths created by those in power to reinforce their rule. Any other discourse opposing this dominant perspective is deemed irrelevant; hence, the other subjects are not recognised as having rights, and are degraded to the status of objects. In this regard, official state narratives created by Zimbabwean state media and the ruling party represent monologism (single-voiced discourse). They are dominant discourses that represent the ultimate approved truth, thereby violating the autonomy of other people’s voices (opposing discourses in this case).

Bakhtin (1984: 189) states that single-voiced discourse constitutes “the ultimate semantic authority within the limits of a given context.” Double-voiced discourse, on the other hand, recognises the multiplicity of voices and perspectives such that “in one discourse, two semantic intentions appear, two voices.” It is the kind of discourse that is “directed toward someone else’s speech,” (Bakhtin,1984: 10). Zimbabweans find themselves subjugated by official despotism that subjects them to terrorism, censorship and harsh socio-economic conditions. They, in turn, resist this despotism through remixing and imitating original speeches and pictures of Mugabe to create new meaning (contra state narratives) in the form of memes, thereby producing alternative versions of the truth. As Bakhtin (1984: 123) shows, carnival allowed the existence of a discourse that was “freed from authority of all hierarchical positions” and permitted participants to express their feelings (in this case, towards Mugabe).

Styles of humour The main styles of humour employed in the Mugabe memes which I have analysed are affiliative and self-enhancing humour. Affiliative humour refers to a situation whereby one makes jokes and makes funny claims, propositions, statements or imagery in an effort to amuse others and build camaraderie and relationships (Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong, 2015). As noted earlier, carnival is a “crowd puller” which brings people together and embraces everyone (Bakhtin, 1984).

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Zimbabweans created and shared satiric memes to mock Mugabe, and in the process were brought together through laughter which momentarily liberated them from the day to day struggles that they faced under Mugabe’s long reign. Through sharing these memes via social media (Facebook, Twitter and WhatsApp), Zimbabweans built virtual relationships and comradeship as they mutually mocked the figure of the president and demeaned and decrowned his assumed superiority. Self-enhancing humour involves a situation in which an individual possesses a quirky and humorous perspective on life, despite any serious hardships they may be facing (cf. Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong, 2015). Although Zimbabweans faced serious socio-economic hardships under Mugabe’s rule, they used humour in the form of memes to cope with their struggles – even if this did not necessarily get them out of their crisis. By mocking the president, they escaped symbolically from the reality of harsh conditions and fleetingly entered a utopian realm which some said gave them a sense of joy, hope and liberation from Mugabe’s dictatorship.

In light of all the above, one can argue that the advent of Mugabe memes on various internet platforms in Zimbabwe represents a form of carnivalesque that subverts an established order and disregards mainstream discourses which are regarded as “already made truths” through laughter, sarcasm, use of billingsgate language, bad texts, travesty, degradation, decrowning, subversion of rules and roles, and several other elements of grotesque humour. These memes somehow chipped away Mugabe’s invincible nature and sacrosanctness. On the other hand, one should not ignore the ambivalence of carnival. It can be argued that although carnival allows marginal voices to freely express themselves in the face of mainstream authoritative cultures, whilst subverting established hierarchies, it also allows the reinforcement and reproduction of certain hierarchical norms.

To what extent can we say Mugabe’s shit stank? Even with the creation and rapid spread of Mugabe memes on social media, Zimbabweans continued to suffer under Mugabe’s long shadow. Mugabe’s government threatened to silence, and indeed experimented with silencing, social media protest. The likes of Evan Mawarire were jailed and humiliated for their protest actions. As Eagleton (1981: 4), cited in Deveau (2012), asserts, “Carnival...is a licensed affair in every sense, a permissible rupture of hegemony, a contained popular blow-off as disturbing and relatively ineffectual as

189 a revolutionary work of art... there is no slander in an allowed fool”. In other words, carnival may be regarded as a licensed transgression controlled and monitored by those in power, which suggests that Mugabe memes exist on the internet because the state allows them to; those in power still monitor any form of blasphemous behaviour toward the president that takes place on the internet. Hence, this questions the extent to which carnival can actually threaten and physically subvert an established order.

What is more interesting is that after Mugabe’s downfall, Mnangagwa’s regime continues to punish those who undermine the president’s authority through social media. Recently, two Midlands State University (MSU) Honours students were arrested and accused of undermining President Mnangagwa’s authority under the Criminal Law (Codification and Reform) Act. This is after they allegedly sent messages to their class WhatsApp group, insulting and threatening the president. This explains why some of the focus group participants which I intended to interview declined commenting about Mugabe memes, with the fear that they would get into trouble with the Zimbabwean government and face dire consequences such as death, even a year after Mugabe’s fall from power. At any rate, former President Mugabe and current President Mnangagwa have a long political history together, having worked closely together since before independence. Mnangagwa is alleged to have been the enforcer responsible during Gukurahundi, carrying out Mugabe’s orders.41 Zimbabweans still fear that the same repressive state apparatus that Mugabe used is still at Mnangagwa’s disposal. Insulting the latter and making fun of him might be seen as undermining authority, whether Mugabe’s or Mnangagwa’s. In this context, carnival rather fails to transcend protest as individuals continue to fear the consequences of mocking the president even through social media. Social media bloggers have been targeted both under Mugabe’s and Mnangagwa’s regime.

We may thus not overestimate the power of internet memes in eliciting actual political action. Yet, it is important to acknowledge the seriousness of messages embedded within humorous political memes, especially those of a dissident nature; even though

41ENCA.com (2018-07-30). “Profile: Emmerson Mnangagwa, Mugabe’s Nemesis”, https://www.enca.com/africa/profile-emmerson-mnangagwa-mugabes-nemesis, Accessed 16 October 2018.

190 these memes merely appear as funny, silly, idiotic, there is always an important message concealed within that silliness. As Shifman (2014) points out “politics is deeply intertwined with the creation and consumption of internet memes,” and therefore it is important to understand the seriousness behind them and the political messages which they convey. Moreover, the fact that Mugabe’s government (and lately Mnangagwa’s) made aggressive efforts to silence social media protest demonstrates the continued threat to officialdom they see as embedded in social media, including memes.

CONCLUSION In this chapter, I presented my findings and then analysed them using thematic, textual and semiotic analysis. I interpreted the memes via a Bakhtinian carnivalesque lens. In answering my research questions, I sought to establish why Mugabe memes went viral, and the meanings attached to these memes by social media users. I also identified the characteristics and styles of humour used in the memes. The chapter examined whether President Mugabe was successfully de-crowned by memes, that is, whether his shit stinks. The next chapter concludes this study by weaving together all the loose ends.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

CONCLUSION

This chapter presents the conclusion, drawing together all facets of my study. The study was informed by the following research questions:

1. Why did particular Mugabe memes go viral on social media? 2. What are the characteristics and styles of humour used in the Mugabe memes? 3. What significance and meanings did social media users attach to the Mugabe memes?

The study explored Mugabe memes on social media in an attempt to establish whether Mugabe’s shit stank like everyone else’s. The memes were interpreted using the theoretical framework based on the Bakhtinian lens of the carnivalesque. The theory was used to explain how internet memes were used by ordinary Zimbabweans to subvert officialdom and threaten the power of Mugabe’s authoritarian regime. It was established that Mugabe memes went viral on social media because Zimbabweans were largely restricted from expressing their political opinions publicly. The high level of censorship in Zimbabwe, reinforced by laws such as BSA, AIPPA, and CODE, amongst others meant that citizens’ right to freedom of expression was suppressed. Insulting and ridiculing Mugabe were criminal offences as several individuals were punished for such insulting and “disrespectful” gestures.

Mugabe was regarded as an infallible, indestructible and omnipotent being who could not be toppled. State-controlled media constituted the lapdogs of the ruling party, promoting Mugabeism and Zanuist ideologies, and suppressing any suggestions or evidence that president Mugabe was an ordinary human being. Privately owned media such as Daily News and Newsday were hindered from playing their watchdog role. After the incident of Mugabe’s fall at the airport for instance, journalists from private media were forced to delete pictures of the event. Mugabe’s CIO agents confiscated their cameras in an attempt to suppress the reality that the incident had actually occurred. Interestingly, state narratives created a false truth, denying that the president had fallen, presenting a different truth from what had happened. Moreover,

192 opposition discourses were repressed and were denied space in mainstream media. In this context, it is clear why Zimbabweans resorted to the use of alternative online platforms that evaded existing official restrictions, where citizens could create counter-hegemonic discourses and ridicule Mugabe anyhow. This led to the proliferation of memes mocking and poking fun at the president, proving that his shit stank like everyone else’s. Through memes, Zimbabweans were able to de-crown the president and to oppose official narratives; they were temporarily liberated from established order that restricted free expression and prevailing truth about Mugabe.

The study found that the most prevalent types of humour used in Mugabe memes were mimicry, sarcasm or irony, silliness and comparison or analogy. These types of humour contributed to the success of virality of Mugabe memes as argued by Taecharungroj and Nueangjamnong (2015) who emphasise the significance of humour for the successful virality of internet memes. The memes that contained mimicry, sarcasm and silliness were meant to blatantly mock President Mugabe in ways that subtly undermined his authority, tainted his reputation and subverted already-made truths about him that were perpetuated by state-controlled media. These forms of humour were used to decrown him and thus to illustrate that, surely, his shit did stink. Mugabe was depicted as fallible and destructible, contrary to dominant and mainstream narratives. He was represented as a foolish and senile old sleepy head who had fallen from heroic status, down to the scrapheap. Moreover, comparison and analogy were applied to the memes that likened the president to the devil and to Hitler, reflecting how Mugabe was perceived as destructive and toxic as a leader.

It was established that affiliative and self-enhancing humour were the predominant styles of humour applied to Mugabe memes. Laughter was seen to be some kind of “medicine” or elixir that helped Zimbabweans to deal with a multiplicity of socio- economic struggles under Mugabe’s rule. By mocking President Mugabe, they sought escape from the harsh conditions of this reality and transiently entered a utopian realm that provided a sense of hope and liberation from the present. Through affiliative humour, Zimbabweans were able to build virtual relationships and comradeships that allowed them to jointly poke fun at the president.

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It was found in the study that most social media users attached self-same meanings to Mugabe memes. They claimed that these memes were significant because they destroyed the image and honour of a man who was regarded by admirers and sympathisers as a powerful demi-god. Decrowned, Mugabe ceased to be an all- powerful individual who could cause homes to be demolished at the flick of a finger, as he did in 2016. Rather, he became an international joke. Mugabe memes also provided laughter that transiently liberated Zimbabweans from their fears and proved that Mugabe was just an ordinary individual who could be made fun of and, indeed, humiliated. Moreover, the study established that the creation of these memes gave ordinary citizens, normally perceived as powerless and passive, the power to speak truth to power. Mugabe memes were seen as a form of “vernacular rhetoric” (speech created by marginalised people) that functioned to puncture his “great man” aura and leave it in tatters.

Various themes, linked to the carnivalising and decrowning frame, emanated from the memes. For instance, the theme of the fall from grace was prominent. Mugabe was portrayed as the once-mighty-being who had fallen from power and, indeed, who could not prevent himself from falling from power. Mugabe was also mocked as an old man inflicted with lunacy and as a doddering sleepy head who had become unfit to continue as president. The memes decentred Mugabe’s domination by carnivalising mainstream authoritative discourses that were meant to be the commandment of the day. Just like carnival, the memes turned Mugabe’s normally sacrosanct world upside down, as citizens found in social media a means to overturn the usual prohibitions and restrictions. The study revealed that Mugabe memes contained various elements of the carnivalesque-grotesque which helped Zimbabweans to “subdue [those] demonic aspects” (Bakhtin, 1984:49) that horrified them, thereby liberating themselves transiently.

While memes have not been proven to actually overthrow power in physical ways, this study illustrated that they could precede the actual overthrow of power, and could indeed hasten. The role of memes in tripping up the powerful at the ideological level was observed. Subverting “sacred” truth was possible through mocking that very truth and showing its sacredness to be illusory. Memes thus became a carnivalesque platform that was used as an escapist route for venting popular frustration and anger

194 by citizens who had suffered and endured nearly four decades of Mugabe’s mismanagement of the economy and reign of terror from Gukurahundi to Murambatsvina to the economic collapse of 2008. The study was grounded on McLemme’s assertion that “the Pope’s shit stinks too”. If the shit of a powerful infallible Holy Man as the head of the Vatican such as the Pope could stink, then he was human after all. This paved the way to mocking and poking fun at other supposedly all- powerful mortals such as President Mugabe. Through memes, Zimbabweans deconstructed, unmasked and ridiculed Mugabe in playful, satirical ways that despoiled his honour and image, thereby attesting that perhaps his shit stank like that of any other ordinary person. Contrary to state narratives that worshipped Mugabe, memes poking fun at him became a tool for transgression, contestation, trespass and dissent, functioning to decrown the President’s sacrosanct status. Thus, it is plausible that President Mugabe’s eventual fall in November 2017 could actually have been preceded by the meme events that decrowned him and punctured his halo, years before.

However, the study also revealed that although memes as a form of carnivalesque practice have the power to threaten officialdom and decrown sovereigns, they also have limits. For instance, some of the memes could be seen as reinforcing the sense of Mugabe’s insuperability, by acknowledging him as powerful. Though admittedly old and unfit, Mugabe was still depicted as powerful and as one who could not be decrowned easily. Indeed, in real he could still inflict pain and suffering make people disappear (as allegedly happened in the case of Itai Dzamara). Also, laughter was seen to represent, not only a subversion of hierarchy, but also a subversion of one’s place within the social structures that controlled him. Thus, it was demonstrated that carnival is not only directed at those in power, but also inwards at those who laugh - the carnival participants themselves. Laughter was found to be self-reflexive in the sense that Zimbabweans created and shared Mugabe memes in an attempt, in part, to cope with their suffering, which at the same time had the effect of self-ridicule since it amplified their own powerlessness. The ambivalence of carnival laughter was further noted as individuals continued to fear Mugabe even after his downfall, which was rather an unintentional acknowledgement of his former power. The recent succession of internet shutdowns in Africa, including in Zimbabwe in February 2019, in a bid to stifle dissent, gives us a reason to worry about the resilience of digital protest.

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Authoritarian governments are all too quick to silence online dissent. It is not untrue, therefore, that carnival laughter is indeed “a licensed affair” and a “permissible rupture of hegemony” that is “relatively ineffectual as a revolutionary work of art…” (Eagleton, 1981: 4). Carnival laughter allows the marginalised to express themselves in new and surprising ways. Yet the ruling class continues to exercise control over them anyhow.

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APPENDICES

Appendix 1: FHDC letter approving study

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Appendix 2: Ethics cover letter

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Appendix 3: Research Instrument (Focus Groups)

FOCUS GROUP (1 – 4)

Place:

Date:

Time:

# of Focus Group discussants:

Ages of discussants:

Gender of participants: --- females --- males

Occupations of participants ------

BIOGRAPHICAL DATA Are you working in South Africa or are just a visitor?

If you are working in SA, when did you move here

Where are you from in Zimbabwe?

Which vernacular languages do you speak?

Which ethnic group are you from?

What work were you doing in Zimbabwe before coming here? ------MUGABE QUESTIONS: GENERAL Robert Mugabe ruled Zimbabwe for 37 years. Was he a bad president or a good one?

Why or why not?

Can you each list at least three bad things that you associate with Mugabe’s rule?

Did you live in fear of Mugabe? Why or why not? What were you afraid of?

What do you remember of censorship during Mugabe’s rule?

A number of people were arrested and taken to court for sharing messages on social media that were critical of Mugabe’s rule. What is your comment about this?

HUMOUR QUESTIONS What do you have to say about the practice amongst many Zimbabweans of zvituko/kunemera/kutsvinyirana/[ukuphoxa]?

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Some say laughter is the best medicine. In your experience, is this true? Explain.

Some say Zimbabweans deal with their problems through laughter. In your experience, is this true? Explain.

Is it OK to laugh/poke fun at powerful people? Why or why not?

Why do you think people poke fun at politicians they do not like? What is the use of poking fun at powerful people or politicians?

Do you agree that people who are prevented from speaking publicly can resort to protesting via social media? Explain your answer.

Which is more effective expressing yourself in a public protest or via social media?

Is protesting via social media useful? Explain.

MEME QUESTIONS What is your attitude to memes in general? Do you enjoy memes in general? Explain.

Which kinds of memes do you enjoy seeing and sharing? Why?

What is your attitude to memes about politics and political topics in Zimbabwe? Do you enjoy political memes on Zimbabwe? Why or why not?

Who do you think creates these Zimbabwean memes? What do you think is the motive behind making the memes?

Would you create a meme yourself poking fun at something?

If you created humorous meme/s poking fun at something, what would you poke fun at?

Of the Mugabe memes before you, please indicate which ones you have seen before. On which social media app did you see the meme?

Did you see the meme before or after Mugabe was removed from power?

What did you think about it when you first saw it? Were you afraid? What were you afraid of?

Did you find the meme funny when you first saw it? Why or why not? What did you find funny about the meme?

What do you think about it now? Do you still find it funny now? Are you comfortable discussing these Mugabe jokes now? Why or why not?

What do you think this meme is saying about Mugabe? Do you agree with its message? Why or why not?

Did you/would you share these memes with your friends on social media and why?

Do you think these Mugabe memes are still relevant now that Mugabe is no longer in power? Please explain your answer.

Would you say that these memes threatened Mugabe’s authority in any way? Explain.

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ADDITIONAL QUESTIONS What is your attitude to current memes poking fun at the Mnangagwa administration? Explain.

At least one person has already been arrested and taken to court for sharing messages on social media that were critical of ZEC. What is your comment about this?

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