THE Zimbabwean government’s proposed constitutional amendments, most notably Clause 2, Clauses 3, 7 and 8, Clause 15, and Clause 17, constitute one of the most far-reaching reconfigurations of state power since the adoption of the 2013 Constitution. When assessed against modern democratic standards, comparative constitutional practice, and principles of political economy, these proposals raise serious concerns about democratic legitimacy, institutional balance, constitutional supremacy and the long-term trajectory of governance in Zimbabwe.
By Brighton Musonza
At their core, these amendments collectively reorient power away from the electorate and towards political elites and state institutions that are already dominant. While each clause is presented as a technical or administrative reform, taken together they signal a deliberate recalibration of the constitutional order, one that weakens popular sovereignty, dilutes accountability, and normalises executive and institutional insulation from democratic pressure.
Clause 2: Indirect Presidential Election and the Erosion of Popular Sovereignty
Clause 2 proposes repealing Section 92 of the Constitution and replacing direct presidential elections with a parliamentary election process, requiring an absolute majority and, if necessary, a run-off vote within Parliament, overseen by the Chief Justice. In isolation, the parliamentary election of a head of government is not inherently undemocratic. Indeed, many stable democracies, such as the United Kingdom, Germany and Italy, operate on this basis. However, constitutional design cannot be reduced to form alone; it must be evaluated in context.
In those parliamentary systems, executive authority is structurally constrained. Power is dispersed through collective cabinet responsibility, strong parliamentary oversight, an independent judiciary, and, critically, the ability of Parliament to remove the executive through a vote of no confidence. The head of government is not a singular, dominant political actor but a first among equals, dependent on continuous parliamentary confidence.
Zimbabwe’s constitutional architecture is fundamentally different. The President is both Head of State and Head of Government, exercises extensive appointment powers, commands the security services, influences Parliament through party discipline, and operates within a political economy characterised by executive dominance. Removing direct election without simultaneously reducing presidential powers or strengthening parliamentary autonomy represents a democratic regression. It severs the direct line of accountability between the electorate and the most powerful office in the state, replacing popular consent with elite negotiation.
Comparative experience offers cautionary lessons. In countries where indirect election has been introduced without robust institutional checks, such as in parts of post-Soviet Central Asia, it has often entrenched ruling parties, facilitated factional capture of legislatures, and enabled the monetisation of political loyalty. It promotes transactional leadership style, whereby a leader can use state resources to transact for loyalty. In Zimbabwe’s context, where Parliament is already weakened by party hierarchies and patronage networks, the risk is that the presidency becomes a product of internal bargaining, financial inducement, or factional alignment rather than national legitimacy.
From a constitutional standpoint, this undermines the principle of popular sovereignty, a cornerstone of modern democratic theory. Executive authority, especially when expansive, derives its legitimacy from the people. Once that foundation is removed, the presidency risks becoming legally valid but democratically hollow.
Clauses 3, 7 and 8: Seven-Year Terms and the Dilution of Accountability
Clauses 3, 7 and 8 seek to amend Sections 95, 143 and 158 by extending the terms of office of both the President and Parliament from five years to seven. The government justifies this on the grounds of reducing election-related disruptions, promoting policy continuity, enabling long-term project implementation, and enhancing political and economic stability.
While these objectives are not frivolous, modern democratic practice addresses them through institutional continuity rather than prolonged political tenure. In advanced democracies, long-term projects survive electoral cycles because the civil service is professional, development plans are legislatively anchored, and policy frameworks transcend individual administrations. Elections are not seen as disruptions but as accountability checkpoints.
Globally, five-year terms remain the norm precisely because they balance stability with democratic control. Even in developing democracies, regular electoral cycles are essential for correcting policy failures, renewing mandates, and preventing political stagnation. Extending terms to seven years significantly weakens this corrective mechanism, particularly in systems with limited institutional counterweights.
However, it must also be acknowledged, intellectually and honestly, that Zimbabwe has suffered from perpetual electioneering, policy volatility, and economic paralysis driven by continuous political mobilisation. In this sense, the argument for a longer presidential term is not entirely without merit. A seven-year presidency, if properly constrained, could theoretically provide policy breathing space in a fragile economy.
The problem lies not in the length of the term alone, but in timing, safeguards and intent. Introducing longer terms while simultaneously weakening electoral participation and institutional oversight creates the appearance, and reality, of incumbency entrenchment. That this reform directly benefits the sitting political elite inevitably fuels public suspicion and civic rage. A more credible approach would have been to apply extended terms prospectively, allow future generations to reassess them, and pair them with strengthened recall mechanisms, independent institutions and enforceable parliamentary oversight.
While Parliament retains recall powers in theory, in practice, party discipline and political coercion render such mechanisms ineffective. Without reforming the political conditions under which Parliament operates, extended terms risk institutionalising unaccountable governance rather than stability.
Economic and Investor Implications: Stability Is Institutional, Not Electoral Absence
From a business and financial perspective, political stability does not arise from fewer elections. Investors assess risk through institutional credibility, constitutional predictability, judicial independence, property rights protection, and the enforceability of contracts. Countries such as Germany, South Korea and Botswana demonstrate that frequent elections are compatible with economic stability precisely because institutions, not individuals, anchor governance.
Extended terms without enhanced accountability can actually increase sovereign risk. Succession uncertainty, lack of peaceful transfer norms, and over-centralisation of power heighten long-term instability. In Zimbabwe’s case, where economic confidence is already fragile, constitutional changes that appear to entrench incumbency may deter long-term capital rather than attract it.
Clause 15: From “Upholding” to “In Accordance With” the Constitution
Clause 15, amending Section 212 on the functions of the Defence Forces, proposes replacing the obligation to “uphold the Constitution” with acting “in accordance with the Constitution.” Though subtle in wording, this change is constitutionally profound.
To “uphold” the Constitution is to assume a positive, substantive duty: to defend, protect and preserve constitutional order, even against unlawful authority. This language places the Constitution above political power and affirms its supremacy. It implies that institutions, including the military, owe loyalty first to constitutional values, not to transient political commands.
By contrast, acting “in accordance with” the Constitution is procedural and passive. It requires technical compliance rather than principled defence. So long as actions are framed within formally enacted law—even if that law erodes constitutional safeguards—institutions may claim legality. The duty to resist unconstitutional capture is effectively removed.
Comparative constitutional history shows that democracies weaken when security institutions are stripped of constitutional guardianship and reduced to executors of formal legality. This shift lowers moral thresholds and facilitates centralisation of power through incremental legal changes. In effect, the Constitution ceases to be a supreme restraint and becomes an adjustable instrument of authority.
Clause 17: The Gender Commission and the Architecture of Equality
Clause 17 proposes repealing Part 4 of Chapter 12, dissolving the Zimbabwe Gender Commission and transferring its functions to the Zimbabwe Human Rights Commission. Contrary to alarmist interpretations, this amendment can be understood, if properly implemented, as a structural realignment rather than an erosion of rights.
Modern equality jurisprudence increasingly recognises that discrimination is intersectional and that rights protection should avoid rigid institutional siloing. By integrating gender equality into a broader human rights framework, Zimbabwe aligns itself with constitutional systems that emphasise substantive, universal equality rather than categorical exceptionalism.
This approach reduces the risk of constitutionally sanctioned asymmetry, where one group’s rights are institutionally privileged in ways that generate legal imbalance. Anchoring gender justice within a single, empowered human rights body affirms equality as universal and indivisible, provided enforcement capacity and political independence are genuinely preserved.
Conclusion: Constitutional Convenience Versus Democratic Integrity
Taken together, these amendments reflect a constitutional philosophy that prioritises administrative convenience, elite stability and institutional control over participatory democracy and popular accountability. While some arguments, particularly around election fatigue and policy continuity, deserve serious consideration, the chosen constitutional instruments are disproportionate and, in several respects, regressive.
Modern democracies do not secure stability by insulating leaders from the people. They do so by strengthening institutions, protecting constitutional supremacy, dispersing power, and deepening civic participation. Zimbabwe’s challenge is not excessive democracy, but fragile institutions. Constitutional reform should therefore expand democratic legitimacy, not narrow it, anchor authority in consent, not compliance, and preserve the Constitution as a living restraint on power, not a procedural shield for it.
