Farming Won't Prosper Without Security

Source from:  Zimbabwe Independent (Harare) November 11, 2005 Chido Makunike 11/14/2005

AS economic problems mount and mass starvation looms in Zimbabwe, there have been frequent calls from various politicians that re-distributed land be used productively by the recipients. Among officials who have appealed for increased productivity on the farms are Vice President Joice Mujuru, Lands and Security Minister, Didymus Mutasa, and Reserve Bank governor, Gideon Gono. After several years of refusing to face up to the reality of what a disaster the Mugabe government's agricultural policies have been, panic is setting in at their calamitous effects. Whatever one's political leanings or feelings about the farm expropriations of recent years, I think everybody agrees we need to find a way to urgently restore confidence and productivity in agriculture. But let us for a moment put ourselves in the shoes of a serious new farmer and look at just a few of the range of structural problems arrayed against him or her. For the purpose of the point I am making, I will not dwell on obvious, now long-running impediments to business in general and farming in particular like the non-availability or non-affordability of various inputs. We all know that tractors and machinery are hard to come by and that there simply isn't enough diesel to go around anyway. There's no need any longer to mention foreign currency problems and their effects on productivity, nor the effects of hyperinflation. But suppose you were a mythical farmer who somehow had a way around this litany of barriers to any realistic prospect of doing serious farming. Even if you were this imaginary farmer with all the inputs, capital, machinery and some hedge against the effects of inflation, what would be your realistic chances of success? I would say except for a few who are either particularly well connected or unusually gifted in business, the odds are very much stacked against you in today's Zimbabwe. One of the main reasons for this is the complete breakdown in the bond of trust between the rulers and those they rule over. Over many years the Mugabe regime has insured that no one, supporter or foe, can any longer attach credibility to its assurances about security of tenure, respect for the law and other basics required for an individual or corporate entity to want to assume any significant risk. And yet this kind of sense of confidence in the fairness and predictability of the system is just what is required for a farmer to take on the risk of planting hundreds or thousands of hectares of a crop. She/he must have confidence that if they plan carefully and work hard and if the weather cooperates, they have a reasonably good chance of reaping the fruits of their labour and of their willingness to take risk. But in Zimbabwe a farmer has so much more to worry about than even these significant factors that farmers everywhere must compute in their decision-making. How do you know that if you do really well you will not simply be opening yourself up to being a victim of some greedy government or ruling party official jealous of your success? If that official decides they want your crop, livestock or property, we now have definite evidence over several years that there is simply nothing you can do to stop it all being taken away from you. This process began first against the unpopular white farmers, but now even a ruling party official has to worry about a bigger fish in the structure being able to displace him or her by sheer force. The police or army will not come to your aid; the courts are compromised - helpless and mostly unheeded by their political controllers. Mashonaland governor Nelson Samkange was last year involved in an embarrassing situation of hi-jacking the tobacco crop of a new farmer he had asked to till "his" land since he couldn't do it and yet wanted to give the appearance of using the farm he had been allocated. There have been many cases of communities displaced from land they had been allocated to make way for some "big fish". Regardless of whatever assurances are given about prices and freedom to market one's crops as he sees fit, we now know that at any moment there could be a directive reversing the assurances under which you made the decision to grow a certain crop, throwing all your financial projections, in fact virtually your whole life, right out the window at a moment's notice and with absolutely no recourse whatsoever. We have seen all this happen over the years and it continues. Every now and then some minister or other official gives "assurances" that new farmers will soon be issued with 99-year leases to give them security of tenure and confidence to make long-term plans and investments, a necessary part of successful farming. Tell me now, how many new farmers are going to really have confidence that the "99-year lease" issued by the regime of Mugabe is worth the paper it is written on given all the policy contradictions and reversals we have witnessed in the last several years? With a regime like this, does it really make business sense to take out a huge farming loan secured by one's house for instance, in the present environment of chaos and cynicism? Is this the kind of environment in which one makes the long-term, difficult decision to become a serious farmer? I would argue that the conditions of a lack of confidence in the system of ruling the country only encourages the quick-buck "dealer" mentality that is so inimical to any hope of serious farming or any other kind of investment. Because of this overall sense of insecurity that has been engendered by the ruling regime, it makes selfish, personal sense for one to try to engage in activities that are as low-risk and low-investment as possible. This is why under the current conditions it is simply inevitable that a "farmer" with any significant access to fuel, for instance, would rather trade it for a quick killing than invest it in the long-term very high risk activity of actually farming. You don't know if you will realistically make a return on the investment, you don't know if you will stay a