[body_image width='1440' height='1011' path='images/content-images/2015/04/27/' crop='images/content-images-crops/2015/04/27/' filename='show-me-what-zimbabwean-democracy-looks-like-495-body-image-1430148081.jpg' id='50135']
Douglas Mwonzora and Paul Mangwana in 'Democrats' (2015), directed by Camilla Nielsson
The 14th annual Tribeca Film Festival held its award ceremony on Thursday, and Danish filmmaker Camilla Nielsson took home the grand jury prize in the World Documentary Competition for her film
Democrats. A riveting look at the process through
which Zimbabwe, still ruled by longtime
dictator President
Robert Mugabe, wrote its first constitution in the wake of a contested and
corrupt 2008 "election,"
Democrats deftly shows the inter workings of a democracy
in which intimidation and authoritarianism hang over public
constitutional hearings and backroom wheeling and dealing. "Democracies in
Africa are a difficult proposition, because always the opposition will want
more than it deserves," Mugabe observes with a sinister smile on his face
during an early portion of the film. Nielsson's documentary takes us inside the
lives and tactics of the two men charged with hammering out the differences
between two major Zimbabwean parties after Mugabe is forced by public outcry to
produce a controlling political document for the former Rhodesia.
Paul
Mangwana of Mugabe's ZANU-PF, genial and bucktoothed, does his best to seem
trustworthy, trying to put a bright public face on a regime that is still known
for "disappearing" people it deems disobedient. Meanwhile, his counterpart
Douglas Mwonzora of Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) endures harassments
and trumped-up criminal charges from the sitting government as he attempts to
galvanize his more urbane, liberal supporters during years of constitutional
hearings and the drafting process into something resembling representational
government. The two men, inherently distrustful of one another, possess a
genuine chemistry, however—one that becomes crucial when rumors circulate that
Mangwana is advocating for a constitutional structure that could make him the
next man to disappear or suffer a mysterious car accident.
The
miracle of Nielsson's film, besides the startlingly intimate firsthand access
she received from both sides in what has become a frequently bloody political
feud between Mugabe's party and that of Prime Minister Morgan
Tsvangirai, is
that she gets these political actors to let their guards down in the midst of
the historically charged series of encounters. VICE caught up with Nielsson over the phone following her
film's victory for a wide-ranging conversation about the difficulties of
capturing such a high-stakes series of political maneuvers, the ongoing crisis
of Zimbabwean democracy, and the ways in which white privilege provided the
opportunity for her to observe this black political struggle with such
immediacy.
VICE: What pushed you to make this film? Has Zimbabwe been a longstanding interest of
yours as a citizen?
Camilla Nielsson: The project idea came to me from
a Danish journalist who lived in Zimbabwe for many years. He
wanted to write a book, and then he got the idea to make a film. He pitched the
idea to the production company that I was working for at the moment. And my
history with making films is that I'm an anthropologist and I made films in many foreign
countries. In fact I haven't made a film in my own country. So he proposed that I make
the film and I thought this sounded like the most boring idea on paper, at
least for a movie. A film about the constitution-making process in a
dictatorship that's the most unlikely place on earth to institute a democracy while the dictator is
still alive and all the anti-democratic sources were still there.
But I
agreed to go on a business trip and I met first Mwonzora and then I met
Mangwana. And when I met Mangwana I realized that, although I wasn't too
interested in the constitution-making process itself, he was an interesting
person. He had an interesting project being the guy in the middle, still sort
of part of the regime, but having to push a democratic agenda that his leader
didn't
want. So I thought that was sort of a hot place. And when I saw the two of them
together and I met the two of them, I thought,
This is not going to be a film about a constitution-making process.
This will be more like a party movie, a relationship film, a film about two men
in a relation. How will that end?
And then I thought that might be quite
interesting in terms of trying to make, because it is an important subject. I've never
seen a film about a constitution-making process. And I doubt that my government,
if we were to rewrite our constitution, would allow me in with a camera to film
those negotiations.
When
I was arrested, I spoke to one of the opposition's security people to see if it was still safe to be in the country. And he said, 'Because you went
around in Zimbabwe so open with a big white cameraman and a big stick and doing
everything on the spot observationally, everybody knows you now. You're the
only white film crew that people have seen working the way you do.'
The access seems absolutely stunning in that you had that
ability to be behind closed doors in so many tense and real history-making
moments.
Exactly.
I can only imagine that you found certain individuals in
many of those circumstances very uncomfortable with your presence, yes?
Of course. I mean,
to get the permissions to make the film, we spent about a year on the ground in
Zimbabwe running between ministries trying to convince them. And the opposition
was very eager to have us, but the other guys were not. But in the end, they
miraculously agreed. And we signed a phonebook-thick pile of papers.
And we
were, of course, very happy about that. And yet that, for us, was not even halfway
through the process. I mean, we had the official permits, but the idea of
making an observational film in a dictatorship where there's no free media was sort of
an absurd idea in itself. It was a bit of a circus. And we had to kick doors in
every day. I have to credit, also, the people. Once they understood the project
that I wanted to do, that I was an anthropologist collecting the material about
this circle process, telling their story. Not being a white colonial gaze, a critical
journalist who just wanted to sort of tell another piece-of-shit story about
their dictator. They became my ambassador and the film's ambassador. And they
started opening the doors for me. In particular Mangwana, of course being part
of the regime, helping me get there. I thought he was very brave to trust me
and I'm really glad that he did. And our relationship is a very special one also. You
know, I will admit we're very unlikely friends, the two of us, but there was something
unexplainable that we had. And I think that's what
it's about: It's really
much more than the permits or anything else. The trust that he had in me and I
had in him. And I credit him for that.
[body_image width='1920' height='930' path='images/content-images/2015/04/27/' crop='images/content-images-crops/2015/04/27/' filename='show-me-what-zimbabwean-democracy-looks-like-495-body-image-1430151153.jpg' id='50181']
Robert Mangwana in 'Democrats' (2015)
Was it difficult in your editing process to contextualize
the actual political differences between the MDC and ZANU-PF? You talk about
not being interested in making a movie about the constitutional process.
Well,
the content of the constitution I felt was too technical for a documentary
film. Like you go to the dentist and there's certain lingo and that
's why
there's
no material in the film about, you know, the actual content. The legal language
doesn't
really translate into film.
Did you feel that Mangwana was in physical danger while he
was in your presence?
Oh, for sure.
And did that danger extend out to your own physical
wellbeing and that of your crew?
Yes, of
course. Once your call is sent in Zimbabwe, basically you're a target. I mean, what
happens in Zimbabwe is that usually people either disappear. That would never
happen to a man like Mangwana, the prime minister, he's the public figure. But he
had a car accident, which is what usually happens in Zimbabwe when they want to
get rid of people. And so in those months of filming I had tried to talk
driving with him. Usually, when we moved from one location to the other, I
would go in one of their cars and spend the time talking to them. They were
getting interesting phone calls, something would always happen. It gave me
information about what was about to happen during the day.
And then
for a couple of months, I avoided driving with him at all. I was worried that
something would happen. Of course everybody cared for Mangwana, we didn't want
anybody to lose anyone's life. So that's why the negotiations were all moved to a secret location. That sort of pink castle-like resort that we go to, to negotiate that particular part, like 600 kilometers
out of Harare—nobody knew we were there. And for us, that's when I felt this power that
was really extraordinary. Me and the foreign crew were doing a mix of things
telling of this negotiation. And we were basically the only ones in the world
to get to see it unfold, what was going on.
Do you think there's any way that you would've been given
that kind of access had you been a Zimbabwean crew or an African crew?
No,
never, never, never. That debate came up many times. I mean, the people that
you're
talking about before didn't want them there.
Being white and
European allowed for a certain kind of access that the various parties involved
here were perhaps more comfortable with.
Yeah,
you're
right. Everybody in Zimbabwe, because of the polarized political situation, is
political, either one side or the other. But we had access to both sides of the
negotiating table. That fact was extraordinary because we had the point of view
from both men. We filmed inside of the opposition party's headquarters. Certain
political affiliations would never have been allowed into the ZANU-PF
headquarters.
[body_image width='1920' height='930' path='images/content-images/2015/04/27/' crop='images/content-images-crops/2015/04/27/' filename='show-me-what-zimbabwean-democracy-looks-like-495-body-image-1430151306.jpg' id='50184']Camilla Nielsson in 'Democrats' (2015)
And I
also think that a British person or an American person or people who came from
a country that had a colonial history could also probably never make this film.
I think our loophole besides the fact that Mangwana and I had the relationship
that we had is that the Danes have quite a good reputation in Zimbabwe, because
Danes are very active in supporting the liberation struggle against the
Rhodesia.
Mugabe
has always been very fond of the Danes and Mangwana as well. They know the
stories that Danes helped them out financially. And so I heard many times—when
they were trying to take me out of something or trying to limit our access—Mangwana
would sort of promote our presence by saying, "No, she's Dane. She's not like
from the west, not exactly like a black woman and a white woman, she's Dane."
And then he would tell the stories about how the Danes were active in the
liberation struggle and have been a big help in telling people, oh, all right,
she's cool." And this is everything in a dictatorship. As soon as you sort of caught
the ball, you were cool. Then the doors are open in a completely different way
than they would be in Denmark or in the States. There I think I would have to
keep pushing for access. [But in Zimbabwe] once you're in, you're in.
Mangwana said, 'Look, I went through the film, scene by scene in my head
for the last two nights. I haven't been able to sleep, but my conclusion is... I think you
're telling
the truth.'
One of the more
fascinating aspects of the film is to watch the sort of machinery of
totalitarian governance in action. I'm speaking specifically
about the hearings process before the actual constitutional drafting process
began, where ZANU-PF is ostensibly bussing members of their own party to places
where they don
't
live. And the training and almost-mind control that seems to exist in terms of their
ability to get people in these rural meetings to say the same exact thing that
supports Mugabe's position. Did you, in the process of making this film,
encounter direct evidence of that kind of thing going on that you didn't include or that
wasn't part of your narrative? Or were there other aspects of living in that kind of
environment that you captured but ultimately didn't fit into the
film that you made?
There
were some things that we felt were too sensitive to include. Both because there
were some things said in the meetings like topics that were highly critical of
Mugabe. There was an instance where a pregnant woman got up and said, "This is
all a sham. I mean, what is this exercise all about?" She was very critical of
Mugabe and it could've been a very beautiful contribution to the film. But I felt for her safety, and
I didn't want to include it. There are many things that I decided not to include. I had
to censor myself a bit as the director to keep everybody safe.
Because
the truth is that, when we filmed this movie, nobody thought that Mugabe would
be in power when the process was over. The national momentum was that this was
Mugabe's
last period ruling. And so people felt that and they knew that the moment would
come out as soon as the process finished. So I think it was a shock to
everybody, including me, when Mugabe stole the election in 2013 and remained in
power. I knew that we sat on a bomb. And I was, at some point, unsure if we
could even release the film, because it is very controversial, the things that
have been said. But before we released the film, we invited Mangwana and
Mwonzora to Copenhagen for a week. And they saw the film and discussed the
scenes and talked about the sensitive issues. And I said to them that if there
were things that they felt would clearly jeopardize their safety, I think we
should take it out. I didn't want to carry the ethical responsibility of their future.
And we
gave them some days to think. Mwonzora was immediately approving of the movie. He said, "I've been arrested 27, 28 times, and I fear the 29th time, because of this, what I do. And I'm happy with it." Mangwana needed a few days to think and came back to me and said, "Look, I went through the film, scene by scene in my head for the last two nights. I haven't been able to sleep, but my conclusion is..." and he had a long sort of break. He didn't say anything. And I thought,
Oh my God,
he's going to say, 'You can't release the movie
.' "I think you're telling the truth." And that's how it was.
Do you think that there's increasing disillusionment now in the wake of Mugabe's continued stronghold on power amongst people in the
movement for democratic change?
You
know, the funny thing is, I think their position is closer to getting in power than
they ever were, because they're so few real ZANU supporters left in the country. Ten
years back there were still quite a number of people who supported Mugabe who
were alive when he was the liberation hero. And people would never stop looking
at him as the liberation hero. I think these people are increasingly aged. And
I think the younger generation is the way that can change. So I think, politically, that the support of the opposition has never been bigger. But I
think they all took for granted that they would win the 2013 election. And then
that didn't happen. They became so disillusioned that they started to fight amongst
themselves. And suddenly some of the best and most notable politicians from the
opposition were in two different camps.
So
Mugabe had a perfect divide-and-rule situation from that election. And I'd say that
the shock of having lost the election, because this was not the first election
that Mangwana lost to Mugabe, you know, unfairly. I think it was the third or
the fourth, maybe, that he lost unfairly. And I think there's a limit
to how much you can take as an individual. I think it was a total bomb and a
total shock. And they were paralyzed for months. And now they're in two
[groups], and there's no united opposition. Without a united opposition, Mugabe has an easy place. So I don't
think anybody can speculate what happens in Zimbabwe in the coming years. I
think anybody who does, doesn't know very much about Zimbabwe.
The
other question is whether a guy like Mangwana after three or four presidential
election losses has the stamina to do a fifth one. I mean, is he really the
right candidate? I wonder about this. I would have a hope that someone like
Mwonzora would be able to run. I think he would make an excellent president.
Mwonzora's been been accused 28 times. He's been acquitted each time. He is now the most arrested politician in Zimbabwean political history.
How do you think that will affect their own standing in
Zimbabwean politics, now that the film is part of the public record?
I think
obviously Mwonzora is the one who is going to benefit most politically from
this film. Although I have to say that, you know, when audiences have seen this
film, their immediate emotional response is always when they get to Mangwana.
Like many people, they have a new hero today: His name is Mangwana. The
response to his character in his situation is much stronger from audiences who
see the film outside of Zimbabwe. In Zimbabwe, he will be seen as an even
bigger traitor. But I think he will also benefit, because a lot of people in
Zimbabwe do not like Mugabe anymore. And Mangwana's been such a brave pioneer
who has been sort of pushing a progressive agenda before anyone else. So I
think over time, historically, down the line, Mangwana will be remembered. He
will have a legacy as a guy who sort of took off the uniform before anyone
else.
You get
me? And I think his place in history will be ensured by this film, and I think
he knows that. But until Mugabe's gone, there will be a period where he will be seen as
what they already think, as a traitor. His situation was that when he finished
writing the constitution, he wasn't even elected to parliament—in the next election there
were both the parliament and the presidential election. And his own party put
another candidate in his constituency and bankrolled him with a lot of money.
And basically Mangwana lost the primary election in his own constituency.
Although he's hugely popular, he was less hugely popular than the other candidate. And that
was their way of giving him the boot.
Mwonzora
had sort of the opposite journey after the constitution process. He was the
spokesperson for the MDC for the democratic change. He's now the secretary general
of the parliament. So he's second in line after Tsvangirai. And that leads you to
think his ambition is on another level. That's all I would say.
[body_image width='1920' height='930' path='images/content-images/2015/04/27/' crop='images/content-images-crops/2015/04/27/' filename='show-me-what-zimbabwean-democracy-looks-like-495-body-image-1430151457.jpg' id='50186']
Douglas Mwonzora in 'Democrats' (2015)
What became of the criminal charges against him that happened,
you know, late in the film? They
aren't ever resolved before the film ends, correct?
No, they're not.
They put them on hold so that the constitution can be restored. Actually, not
more than two or three weeks ago, he was finally acquitted again of those
claims. He's been accused 28 times, he's been acquitted each time. And they have nothing on him.
But it takes his time; it distracts his focus. He is now the most arrested
politician in Zimbabwean political history. That also for me is a signifier
of his relevance, of his power, of his potential. That the regime spends so
much time keeping him passive or inactive. I want to talk for him on this
matter, because in Zimbabwe there is no "me" culture.
You know, you don't brag. It's very subtle. And if you say that you want to be the president then you will
never be a president. So it's sort of troubling. I think he has that aspiration. In
fact, we made the agreement that if he runs for the big office, I'll make
part two of this film. I thought that would be a good follow-up given the
history he had.
We
set up a monitor in the local café and invited all the notorieties, all the
ambassadors, the donors, the characters in the film, their families, the state,
the private media. Even the secret police were there. And on February 6, we
had a public screening of this film inside Harare, something completely unheard
of.
You talked
about the way in which normal citizens can be disappeared by ZANU-PF. And yet for
these two men that kind of political violence is unimaginable.
Not for them, no. They're public figures. I spoke to a lot of people besides Mangwana and Mwonzora about
issues related to their safety. And the one answer that I hadn't thought
of myself, but which was repeated all the time including by Mangwana and
Mwonzora themselves, is that this film in fact gives them protection through the
publicity. I mean, this film is now all over the world. And if something
happens to them, it's
very obvious who did it and why. And I think that they are right.
I
can tell you a similar example. We were often worried about our safety. We were
being followed; I was arrested when I was there; they hacked my phone. It was
quite an intense filming environment. And, of course, we were almost beaten up
a couple of times. When I was arrested, I spoke to one of the opposition's security
people to sort of see if it was still safe to be in the country. And he said, "Because
you went around in Zimbabwe so open with a big white cameraman and a big stick
and doing everything on the spot observationally, everybody knows you now. You're the
only white film crew that people have seen working the way you do."
I
can tell you an anecdote. If we got to a press conference and the state press
were there, they would just film us. They wouldn't film the press conference.
The story would be that there had been two white people at the press conference
talking about what the press conference was about. And they said the same thing
to us. "You are now so public in Zimbabwe, it's going to be very hard to
target you. And you are open about how you are making this project. If you had
done this undercover with a small camera in secret, you may not have even
gotten in and gotten to shoot anything that could have been a scenario."
Lastly,
do you think you
'll get to show the film in Zimbabwe?
We
have shown the film in Zimbabwe.
You did. And what was the
response? And what kind of audience was it?
We've shown
it one time because for me it was important that it was shown locally before we
started this whole sort of international festival tour. And because I was arrested
on my final trip to Zimbabwe, I can't reenter the country. But we have a very brave Danish
ambassador in Zimbabwe who suggested that he then host a screening. So we set
up a monitor in the local café and invited all the notorieties, all the
ambassadors, the donors, the characters in the film, their families, the state,
the private media. Even the secret police were there. And on February 6, we
had a public screening of this film inside Harare, something completely unheard
of. We were expecting them to come and shut it down. But I think the strategic
choice was sort of invite so many people of this kind that if they wanted to
shut down the screening, they would have had to do it in front of all the
donors who are basically keeping the economy going.
So they didn't. And I wasn't there. But I've been in some panels with Zimbabwean human-rights activists who've been joining me on this festival circuit. And they were there. And they talk about
it as one of the most magic moments they remember. Like the fact that it was
packed, standing room only, 400 people from both sides of the political divide
came into that room, sat down together, had a glass of wine, watched a movie,
stayed after, had a conversation, and left peacefully.
Of
course we want the rest of the nation to see it also. But we were just kind of
testing the waters. And the regime hasn't reacted to the film at all in its final treatment. So, so
far, so good.
If you could ask Robert Mugabe one
question, what would it be?
Wow. That's a very
good question and I never thought about this. What would I ask him? I couldn't tell
you. I will have to think very carefully about what I say,
because for a long time I didn't even use the
D-word with his name. Now it's all over
the place. You know, it is a very sensitive thing. I was at the Human Rights
Watch Film Festival in London three weeks ago and when I arrived, there were
three security guys to look after me. I don't know exactly what the
incident was, but there's been some kind of a threat. There are a ton of people in
London and in South Africa who are very, very fanatic supporters of Mugabe. So
I'm
still watching my words a little bit. Just sort of testing the waters in terms
of how this response to this film is going to be from the regime. But there's been
none so far. And I think they're wise in doing that. I think the worst thing they can do
is attack the film.
Brandon Harris is a contributing editor at Filmmaker Magazine. His directorial debutRedlegs has played over a dozen festivals worldwide and was a New York Times critic's pick upon its commercial release in May of 2012. Follow him on Twitter.