Mnangagwa Vs Chiwenga: The Existential Battle For Power In Zimbabwe – Analysis

June 3, 2026 
By FPIF

By Charles A. Ray

2017: The Coup that Wasn’t


(FPRI) — The November 2017 military move in Zimbabwe that marked the end of Robert Mugabe’s 37-year rule opened a completely new phase in the southern African country’s troubled politics. Although the military leadership insisted that its intervention was not a coup, the events were clearly a military-led transfer of power. Soldiers moved into the capital city of Harare, seized the state’s broadcaster and other strategic points, and confined Mugabe to his residence while declaring that they were targeting “criminals” around him rather than the president himself. The operation, code-named Operation Restore Legacy, arose from a deep struggle within the ruling Zimbabwe African National Union–Patriotic Front (ZANU–PF) party over who would succeed the aging Mugabe and over the future direction of the liberation movement. At its core, it reflected a collision between competing factions, longstanding economic failure, and the growing political power of the security establishment.

Structural and immediate tensions were the root causes of the coup. By 2017, Zimbabwe had endured decades of economic decline, factional conflict, and public frustration with corruption and repression. Within ZANU–PF, the succession battle had sharpened between Emmerson Mnangagwa—a veteran of the liberation struggle who was backed by many military officials—and war veterans, as well as the G40 faction of the party—who were aligned with First Lady Grace Mugabe—and younger party elites. Many senior military officers saw Lady Mugabe’s rising influence as a threat not only to Mnangagwa but also to their own political and economic interests. The incident that sparked the coup occurred on November 6, 2017, when Mugabe fired Mnangagwa as vice president, apparently clearing the way for his wife to advance her claim to succeed him. Mnangagwa fled the country, and on November 13, General Constantino Chiwenga, the chief of the military’s general staff, publicly warned that the military would not stand idly by while liberation veterans were purged from the party and state.

Chiwenga’s warning was followed within a day by troop movements into Harare and a televised statement by Major General Sibusiso Moyo announcing that the army had intervened. Mugabe initially refused to resign, but events quickly moved against him. On November 18, massive street demonstrations in the capital and other cities showed broad public support for his ouster. The next day, ZANU-PF removed Mugabe as party leader, expelled Grace Mugabe and her allies, and installed Mnangagwa as the party leader. When Mugabe continued to resist, Parliament began impeachment proceedings on November 21. Before the impeachment process concluded, Mugabe, who had once proclaimed that “only God will remove me,” sent a resignation letter, bringing his 47-year reign to an end. In the immediate aftermath, Mnangagwa returned from exile and was sworn in as president on November 24, 2017. He promised economic revival, anti-corruption measures, and a “new democracy,” but the transition revealed the military’s central role in shaping political outcomes. Rather than a democratic rupture, the coup can best be understood, in hindsight, as an elite reconfiguration within ZANU–PF, in which military power decisively settled a succession struggle while preserving much of the existing political order.

A marriage of convenience begins to fall apart

Even though Mnangagwa and Chiwenga appeared to be allies in the ousting of Mugabe, there were immediate signs of tension in their relationship. Chiwenga took control of key state institutions, including the Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation, and positioned himself as the dominant figure in government, while Mnangagwa was sidelined. While publicly they presented a united front, it was thought from the outset that Chiwenga intended for Mnangagwa to serve only one term, with him taking over in 2023. But astute political moves by Mnangagwa, a serious illness that sidelined Chiwenga for several months, and the removal of several of his allies from key positions thwarted that goal.

Like Mugabe before him, the root of Mnangagwa’s possible downfall is his lust for power. Fissures in the Mnangagwa-Chiwenga relationship began to appear in the 2018 election campaign. On June 23, 2018, a grenade explosion in Bulawayo, at the end of a Mnangagwa campaign rally, was officially blamed on remnants of the G40 movement. But later, ZANU–PF officials publicly claimed that the attack came from “inside” the military, interpreted as a jab at Chiwenga and his supporters. No action was taken against them, though. In August of 2018, soldiers opened fire on civilian demonstrators, killing six, which embarrassed Mnangagwa and created the perception that Chiwenga and the military were acting without regard to political fallout.


It was in January 2019 that the relationship between these two political rivals became clear to all. Mnangagwa, just before leaving on a foreign trip, announced steep fuel price hikes, leading to countrywide protests. The chaos, with Chiwenga as acting president, fed rumors of an attempted coup against Mnangagwa and of Chiwenga doing nothing to quell it, in hopes of making Mnangagwa look weak and incompetent. If the regime were to be toppled, the rumors said, the military could once again step in and “restore order,” positioning Chiwenga as the natural choice to lead the country.

Upon his return to Zimbabwe, Mnangagwa reacted forcefully. He called the behavior of the security forces “unacceptable,” a direct rebuke of Chiwenga, and days later the army issued an internal order banning soldiers from wearing their uniforms in public for fear of civilian reprisals. On February 18, 2019, while Chiwenga was out of the country being treated for a serious and mysterious illness, Mnangagwa retired and reassigned four senior generals, including the commander of the Presidential Guard. These four, not coincidentally, were the core architects of the 2017 coup. When Chiwenga returned to Zimbabwe in late 2019, he found that the political landscape had shifted dramatically in Mnangagwa’s favor.

In 2020, Chiwenga was appointed minister of health, a move many saw as an attempt to politically sideline him. While the two men publicly projected unity during the COVID-19 pandemic, it was clear to those in the know that this was merely political theater and that their détente was as fragile as tissue paper. In 2021, Mnangagwa engineered constitutional amendments regarding the presidential running mate, meaning that Chiwenga would not be his automatic successor in 2023. In 2023, Mnangagwa was reelected with Chiwenga campaigning alongside him. When Mnangagwa supporters began chanting “2030!” at victory parties, signaling a push to extend his rule beyond the constitutional two-term limit, the uneasy détente turned into open hostility.

In October 2025, a leaked memo—allegedly written by Chiwenga—went public online. The memo accused Mnangagwa of repeating Mugabe’s mistakes and protecting corrupt businessmen. The government dismissed the memo as “treasonous nonsense,” but the rift between the two men was now public and, despite the government’s efforts to deny it, undeniable.


Whatever trust might have existed between the two men in 2017, when they allied to bring an end to Mugabe’s long rule, has now evaporated. All that is left is suspicion, purges, and leaked accusations. Mnangagwa controls the party and the intelligence networks, but Chiwenga still has significant support within the military and war veteran groups. According to sources within the Zimbabwean diaspora, who wish to remain anonymous to avoid possible retribution, Chiwenga also has the support of many traditional leaders in rural areas. Because Zimbabwe’s constitution gives the president the authority to appoint or remove traditional chiefs, this sets up another potential point of contention between Mnangagwa and Chiwenga.

Where things stand now, and where might they be headed?

According to the current constitution, Mnangagwa is due to step down in 2028 after serving two five-year terms, but the cabinet has drafted legislation to change the constitution. The change would extend presidential terms from five to seven years, allowing Mnangagwa to remain in office until 2030. The proposed changes would also have the president elected by parliament rather than through a direct popular vote.

This move has sparked protests within ZANU–PF, from opposition politicians, and from citizens’ groups. In 2023, over 25,000 Zimbabweans, including some in the diaspora, signed a petition that was submitted to the Southern African Development Community calling for the establishment of an inclusive transitional government. According to some activists, whose names are being withheld to protect against any reprisals, the situation in Zimbabwe is “tense and dangerous.” “Mnangagwa’s actions are fueling the crisis,” one said. “He doesn’t trust the army, and in his efforts to stay in power, he is treating the generals badly.” Furthermore, according to some in the diaspora, many in the army support a transitional government, creating conditions for an explosive confrontation between Mnangagwa and the intelligence establishment and the military. One activist said, “The situation is becoming increasingly deadly while we are busy preparing our interventionist National Transition Authority to avoid a repeat of 2017.”

Some think the crisis could reach its boiling point in a matter of days, while others are worried, but less sure. Predicting Zimbabwe’s future is difficult, but this is not just a quarrel over policy. It is an existential struggle over who will rule the country. There are a number of possible outcomes:Mnangagwa might move to expel, suspend, or sideline Chiwenga by stripping him of key party and/or state roles, charging him with breach of party discipline or constitutional violations, or even indicting him for treason.
Chiwenga supporters could leave ZANU–PF and align with the opposition, or establish “reform” factions to resist Mnangagwa’s dominance.
Mnangagwa might replace military, intelligence, police, and security officials loyal to Chiwenga. This could provoke backlash or “silent” resistance within the security ranks, leading to greater chaos.
Prosecutions or other legal actions against Chiwenga or those close to him. This could include charges of incitement, treason, or other serious offenses.
Because Chiwenga still has significant patronage networks within government, ministries or agencies sympathetic to him could slow or withhold services and cooperation, increasing distrust in the government writ large.

Public perceptions of government instability could heighten political tensions and lead to greater social unrest. Furthermore, the elimination of Chiwenga as a contender for succession could lead others to enter the fray, further increasing the potential for chaos. Regardless of which scenario, or combination of scenarios, unfolds, it spells trouble for Zimbabwe in the short and medium term. We’re looking at either an entrenched one-man rule, returning Zimbabwe to Mugabe-era authoritarian governance, or a fragmented, weakened country that threatens the stability of the region.


Like the citizens of Zimbabwe, the world can only wait and see at this point. The coming weeks will tell.

About the author: Charles A. Ray, a member of the Board of Trustees and Chair of the Africa Program at the Foreign Policy Research Institute, served as US Ambassador to the Kingdom of Cambodia and the Republic of Zimbabwe.

Source: This article was published by FPRI