Mozambique’s memory of election violence tests trust in courts and rights to protest
When former presidential contender Venancio Mondlane publicly disavowed calls for street demonstrations this week, he was trying to steer what has become an anxious ritual in Mozambique away from confrontation and toward commemoration. “I did not call for demonstrations,” he told supporters; “I called for a day of reflection” to honour those killed in the unrest that followed last year’s disputed election — among them his lawyer, slain while preparing an appeal.
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It was a modest message, yet authorities treated it warily. Ceremonies and small vigils were held across parts of Maputo, but a planned march was blocked and police issued stern warnings against “demonstrations which call public order into question.” The juxtaposition — remembrance in the shadow of prohibition — captures a wider unease about how Mozambique’s fragile democracy copes with dissent, accountability and the memory of violence.
The return of last year’s trauma
Last year’s election erupted into violence in several parts of the country, leaving families mourning and communities marked by loss. The anniversary has become a litmus test, a time when the public asks whether promises of reform and rule of law have been kept. For many Mozambicans, the question is not merely political; it is personal.
“We want to remember those we lost,” said a woman attending a small ceremony in Maputo who asked not to be named because of the tense environment. “But we are scared that remembering will lead to trouble, that people will be punished for simply grieving.” Her words echoed through neighbourhoods where mourners lit candles and laid flowers, simultaneously honoring the dead and measuring what it means to speak openly in a country still learning how to handle dissent.
Security, order and the ban on marches
The decision to prohibit the march — justified by police as a means to protect “public order” — was predictable in many ways. Across Africa and beyond, governments often cite security concerns to restrict gatherings that could strain fragile intercommunal relations or spark renewed violence. Yet such bans can have the opposite effect: they amplify grievances and feed narratives of injustice.
That is the dilemma for Mozambican authorities. A heavy-handed response risks inflaming tensions and deepening suspicion of state institutions. Lax enforcement, by contrast, might allow violence to re-emerge. The crux of the matter is whether the state’s use of power is perceived as even-handed and committed to impartiality — a perception that depends heavily on clear, timely justice for those harmed.
Judicial delays and a bar association’s rebuke
There the case is particularly stark. The Mozambican Bar Association has voiced frustration over what it calls “unjustifiable and unacceptable delays” in the investigation into the killing of Mondlane’s lawyer. In a public statement, the association warned that the prolonged silence from authorities, including the Attorney General’s Office, risks eroding public confidence in the justice system and, by extension, the foundations of the country’s democracy.
That criticism is not purely rhetorical. The lawyer was not only a legal counsel but a symbol: someone engaged in the formal processes of appeal and accountability when he was killed. When those entrusted with investigating such crimes appear slow or indifferent, citizens can reasonably conclude that some lives — or some crimes — matter less.
Delays in judicial processes are a common complaint in many emerging democracies. They are costly: victims’ families receive no closure, opposition movements sense impunity, and the international community grows impatient. In Mozambique, where the scars of a decades-long civil war still cut across society, timely and transparent justice carries outsized importance for long-term stability.
Beyond Mozambique: a global pattern
The tensions playing out in Maputo mirror wider global trends. Governments confronting contested elections often balance two competing impulses: to maintain order and to preserve civil liberties. Too often, that balance tips toward repression under the banner of security. International monitors and human rights groups note the pattern not only in Africa but across Latin America, Asia and Eastern Europe where democratic institutions are under strain.
At the same time, professional bodies like bar associations increasingly find themselves acting as guardians of rule of law. Their willingness to call out sluggish investigations and to press for accountability is part of a broader civil-society response to democratic backsliding. Such institutions can become the last line of defence when political channels falter.
Questions that linger
Mozambique now faces several interconnected tests. Will the authorities accelerate and transparently conclude the probe into the lawyer’s killing? Can the government allow peaceful remembrance without stoking fresh unrest? And perhaps most fundamentally: can Mozambicans build a shared sense of justice so that memory becomes a bridge rather than a battlefield?
Those answers will shape not only how this anniversary is remembered but how future elections are contested. If justice remains delayed and public mourning is policed, grievances harden. If, instead, the state shows impartiality and accountability, grief can be acknowledged without becoming a pretext for repression.
On the streets of Maputo this week, the candles were small and fragile against a night of official caution. But their glow pointed to a larger aspiration — for a civic space where memory and truth do not have to be kept apart by fear. Whether Mozambique can move from that aspiration to durable practice is among the most consequential questions facing the country today.
By News-room
Axadle Times international–Monitoring.
