Herbert Wiltshire Chitepo was not killed by Rhodesians. That is the bitter truth Zimbabwe has for too long avoided. He was assassinated by his own comrades in ZANU. The Special International Commission convened in Lusaka after his death in March 1975 delivered its verdict without hesitation: the car bomb that tore him apart was not the work of Ian Smith’s intelligence services, nor of foreign agents. It was the work of the Dare-Re-Chimurenga and ZANU’s Military High Command.
By Solo Musaigwa
The evidence was damning. Josiah Magama Tongogara, then Chief of Defence, was identified at the heart of the plot. Rex Nhongo, later Solomon Mujuru procured the bomb. Others in the High Command sanctioned the decision, and cadres were ordered to carry it out. The Commission concluded that the entire leadership structure of ZANU bore collective responsibility. In other words, Chitepo was executed by the very men he had led in the liberation struggle.
Why would comrades do this? Because Chitepo stood in their way. He was a Manyika intellectual who embodied accountability in a movement increasingly consumed by Karanga tribal dominance and military ambition. He questioned the corruption that had seeped into leadership, the reckless promotions of unqualified commanders, the abuse of female cadres, and the neglect of fighters at the front. He refused to be silent about the rot. For that courage, Tongogara and his circle decided he had to die.
This was more than a murder. It was the destruction of a different Zimbabwe. Chitepo symbolised the possibility of a liberation struggle wedded not only to the gun, but also to the law. He was the first black barrister in Rhodesia, a man who defended nationalists in court, who brought intellectual weight and international credibility to the movement. He envisioned a Zimbabwe rooted in justice and unity. His assassins envisioned a Zimbabwe ruled through fear, loyalty to tribe, and the barrel of a gun. His death ensured that theirs would triumph.
The assassination of Chitepo was therefore not just a personal tragedy. It was the original sin of Zimbabwean politics. It set the template for what was to follow. From that moment, the unwritten law was clear: power would not be transferred by debate or consensus. It would be seized, defended, and retained through elimination.
This culture has haunted Zimbabwe ever since. Gukurahundi in the 1980s was not a break from the past.It was its continuation. The purges within ZANU-PF, from Edgar Tekere to Joice Mujuru, were not aberrations. They were echoes of Lusaka in 1975, when comrades decided that rivals were not to be reasoned with but destroyed. The succession battles of today, fought in the shadows of State House and whispered in army barracks, are part of the same lineage.
Chitepo’s ghost lingers in every crisis of leadership. His assassination did not just kill a man. It killed the idea that Zimbabwe could be born in unity, honesty, and principle. It guaranteed that independence would come already poisoned by betrayal.
Yet we continue to tell ourselves lies. Too often, Chitepo’s death is attributed to Rhodesian agents. That myth has been politically convenient. It allowed ZANU to claim him as a martyr of colonial brutality, while burying the uncomfortable reality of fratricide. But nations cannot build a future on lies. To honour Chitepo, we must speak the truth. He was not killed by the enemy. He was killed by Tongogara, by Rex Nhongo, and by their co-conspirators in ZANU’s leadership.
This truth matters because it explains the Zimbabwe we inherited. A state born from betrayal will always struggle to cultivate trust. A politics built on assassination will always fear dissent. A movement that killed its brightest son before independence was won could hardly build a culture of tolerance afterwards. That is why Zimbabwe remains locked in cycles of factional violence, paranoia, and authoritarian rule.
Herbert Chitepo was murdered not because he was weak but because he was strong. He was too independent, too principled, too dangerous to the ambitions of men who had already set their eyes on ruling Zimbabwe long before victory. His integrity exposed their corruption. His vision exposed their tribal games. His courage exposed their hunger for power. They silenced him with dynamite because they could not silence him with argument.
Nearly fifty years later, his ghost still hovers over the nation. It is present every time a rival is purged instead of persuaded. It is present every time elections are marred by fear instead of fairness. It is present every time leadership is measured not by service but by survival.
Chitepo’s death should have been a turning point. Instead, it became a template. Until Zimbabwe faces that truth openly, we will remain trapped in the betrayal of Lusaka, chained to a political culture of suspicion and blood.
Liberation promised freedom. But in murdering Herbert Chitepo, the liberators betrayed themselves and the nation. They replaced unity with tribalism, justice with conspiracy, and debate with assassination. That is the betrayal at the heart of our independence. That is the wound that still festers.
And until we confront it, Herbert Chitepo will never rest.
Solo Musaigwa can be contacted at: solomusaigwa.writer@gmail.com
The post Chitepo’s Assassination: The Betrayal That Still Chains Zimbabwe first appeared on The Zimbabwe Mail.