President Robert Mugabe must have been nervously fingering the collar of his shirt as election results rolled in late last Monday night. The incredible was happening. Having delivered his people from the oppression of white minority rule in the 1970s, they were now treacherously voting against him in their droves. By the midway point, the opposition - a pack of trade union upstarts and human rights do-gooders - were neck and neck with the ruling party.
Before that, the thought of losing had probably never even occurred to Mugabe. After all, he hadn't left much to chance. Over the previous four months the doughty political fighter - who reportedly works out every day, even at 76 years of age - had employed every dirty and violent trick in the book to ensure victory.
First he tried to dodge debate about the appalling state of the economy - for which he and his cronies must bear personal responsibility - by engineering "spontaneous" invasions of white farms, fuelled by venomous racist rhetoric. Then he had the political opposition beaten up, tortured or killed by the "war veterans" - an unsavoury alliance of men who fought with him 20 years ago and with little to show for it now and petty thugs paid by the ruling Zanu-PF party.
As polling day neared, he wheeled out crazy theories to defend the indefensible - that British agents roaming the high seas were mysteriously blocking fuel tankers destined for Zimbabwe (hence the massive petrol queues); that foreign banks had sabotaged his worthless currency; that the opposition Movement for Democratic Change party was a front for a neo-colonialist plot to overthrow him. All through this time, the state-controlled television, radio and newspapers crowed about the admirable qualities of their wonderful leader, Comrade Mugabe.
Finally, he had a few extra tricks up his sleeve for the election itself. Constituency boundaries were gerrymandered. International observers were obstructed at every turn, so much so that the United Nations pulled out. And a sudden burst of legislative fervour just before polling saw a new law hand control of the election to a Zanu-PF crony.
The head of the European Union mission, Pierre Schori, stated the obvious when he described the pre-election period as "one of the worst" his observers had seen.
But when polling finally came last weekend, Zimbabweans - a normally peaceful people - demonstrated the courage and sense of moral purpose that their once-venerated leader had lost after 20 years of boozing on the barstool of power.
They were not the cowed fools that cynical Zanu-PF officials and thugs had taken them for. Ignoring the anti-colonialist bombast they examined their own lives - and found their money was worth less every day, their food cost more and their friends and children were dying of AIDS. It was time for change.
The MDC polled 57 out of the 120 elected seats. It would have been a close shave if President Mugabe hadn't had a 20-seat head-start through nominated MPs and governors. A further 10 seats are elected by a council of chiefs, which tends to sway with the prevailing political winds.
The vote was split between town and country. The MDC won every seat in the capital, Harare, and the second city, Bulawayo, by either a comfortable majority or a complete landslide. A key exception was in the southern province of Matabeleland, the scene of a bloody pogrom by government troops against ethnic rivals in the mid-1980s.
The country areas, many in the fearful grip of roaming thugs, voted largely for Zanu-PF, although there were several close-fought contests in the provincial towns. The Minister for State Security, Dr Sydney Sekeramayi, won the Marondera seat by a 63-vote whisker against a candidate who had been hiding in Harare for several weeks. The MDC is launching a legal challenge to the result in this and at least nine other constituencies.
As he lined up to vote last Sunday, Dereck Chipfupa (29), a printer, explained why he was voting MDC. "I was young when we gained independence but since then I have never seen anything good about my country. They build us schools but produce people with nothing to do," he said.
It would be unfair, however, to characterise all Zanu-PF votes as having been won through coercion. Many people, particularly in the older generation, still have an emotional attachment to Mugabe for ridding them of Ian Smith and his hated UDI regime. Mr Taterera Mengaehama, a pensioner who was detained by Smith for 15 years, said, after casting his vote: "I don't care what you say, Mugabe is the finest leader in Africa. He doesn't hesitate to lead his people and to say what is right and wrong."
Once upon a time the international community saw it that way, too. Margaret Thatcher paid a state visit in 1988. But that was then. Britain and other western powers made little secret of their preference for the MDC. Closer neighbours dependent on Zimbabwean stability, such as South Africa, adopted a more diplomatic tone in public. President Thabo Mbeki of South Africa, who offered open support to Mugabe at the height of the land controversy, was said to have privately fumed after meetings with "belligerent Bob".
But while the reformists' desire to see Mugabe's head on a plate has not been entirely sated, there is no doubt that this week's result is a historic one that has radically redrawn the Zimbabwean political map.
In the short term, the result preserved stability in a fragile, volatile environment and prevented blood on the streets of Harare.
Most analysts felt that in the event of an MDC majority, Mugabe would have chosen to impose his own government, drawn from the ranks of Zanu-PF, which, constitutionally, he is entitled to do.
President Mugabe, whose term expires in two years, has won a breather - for now. He has avoided the fate of other African liberators turned autocrats, who, in the 1990s, found themselves either voted out of office, such as Kenneth Kaunda in Zambia in 1991, or kicked out, such as Congo's President Mobutu Sese Seko in 1997. But the landmark elections have unleashed a storm of unfriendly political forces, some of his own making, that will make life harder than ever and could even force an early retirement.
"This has given him a chance to change his policy orientation and the leadership of his own party. But he'd better hurry up," a political analyst, Prof Masipula Sithole, said.
At parliamentary level, for the first time he will have to face down a strong opposition, which will use the newly invigorated private press to scrutinise and criticise his every move. He also lost the two-thirds majority needed to amend unilaterally the constitution, so future proposals to further entrench his powers are now unlikely.
AN EVEN greater challenge is likely to emerge from the shrunken ranks of his own party, which is still reeling from the shock of having lost half of its parliamentary advantage. Several Zanu heavyweights, such as Justice Minister Emmerson Munangagwa, lost their seats and will be baying for party reform. According to local press reports, already some have told President Mugabe to his face that it is time for him to go.
Party moderates who were elbowed aside during the farm invasions, such as Eddison Zvobgo, are also eager to bring the party back into the mainstream. "Breakaways, and even complete disintegration of the party are a bigger possibility than ever before," one Zanu liberal told The Irish Times.
But the septuagenarian president could find himself caught in a pincer movement between the reformers and extremists pushing for even tougher policies on issues such as land seizures - the very people that Mugabe promoted in the party ranks to ensure election victory.
The militant war veteran leader, Chenjerai "Hitler" Hunzvi, signalled what could be the start of a power struggle within the ranks of Zanu-PF last week with a statement that appeared to be directed at President Mugabe and the ruling cabal. The party clearly need to "rejuvenate", he said, with "an overhaul from the grass roots to the top".
Political analysts in Harare say the next couple of months will be crucial for Zimbabwe, but for now it's impossible to call.
President Mugabe has yet to appoint a government, a potentially perilous process given the opposing factions crystallising within his own party. The MDC, which has decided to accept the election result in spite of the violence, has yet to present its policies.
And the land question must be resolved in a way that will satisfy the bands of government-licensed "war vets" while restoring investor confidence. The omens are not good. Mugabe said the land would be coming to the people "in a big way" during the week - but diplomats, farmers and anyone with common sense is holding out hope that a compromise can be found.
That hope was partly nourished by the conciliatory noises made by Mugabe during the televised address. But critics point out that he made a similar speech after February's constitutional referendum defeat. The following week the war veterans invaded the white farms.
But the old man has already battled his way to power twice - once during the 1970s and, to a degree, during these elections. Next time around, fighting will no longer be an option.
