The Sunday Mail
Forward Nyanyiwa
TODAY, exactly 42 years ago, the foremost commander in Zimbabwe’s liberation war struggle, the iconic General Josiah Magama Tongogara, breathed his last in a car accident on his way from Maputo to Chimoio.
The mission was to communicate the outcome of the Lancaster House Agreement to his troops, who were still in the trenches, squeezing the life out of an asphyxiated Ian Smith army.
After General Tongo, as he was affectionately known in the war circles, perished, former president, the late Robert Mugabe, stunned the world when he announced on the Voice of Zimbabwe radio station in Maputo “an extremely sad message to all the fighting people of Zimbabwe”.
Cde Tongogara was a distinguished military commander who brought anguish straight onto the doorstop of his nemesis, General Peter Walls.
General Tongo was a kingpin and conductor of the orchestra when freedom fighters launched the most audacious attacks on the settler regime when they torched the Salisbury Shell oil tanks.
The resultant inferno took a fortnight to douse, even with the aid of apartheid South Africa’s fire fighters.
How could Cde Mugabe have dared to announce that such a revered soldier had expired?
Well, he lied to the nation.
Wasn’t it General Douglas MacArthur who, in his farewell address to the US Congress on April 19, 1951, told us that “old soldiers never, never die, they simply fade away!”
That was the case with General Tongogara on December 26, 1979 — he didn’t die, he just faded away.
However, his legacy cannot be allowed to fade away.
His selfless sacrifice and heroism cannot also just fade away.
We cannot afford to ignore such a giant and imposing commander lest posterity will judge us harshly.
His legacy lives on.
Respected by foe
While so much has been said and written of the former ZANLA commander, very little has been said by those who dreaded to mention his name — the Rhodesians.
Last month, I boarded a train from Birmingham to Manchester.
As my eyes raced to pick up a seat, they got stuck on two elderly “soldiers” who were seated facing each other.
I decided to play a game.
I sat next to one of them and then decided to stand up again to look for another seat.
They both fell for the trick hook, line and sinker.
“Don’t worry young man, we can share the seat. We are still within the social distance regulations,” one of them said.
As I was sitting, I could not help, but marvel at them.
They were dressed in resplendent military uniform adorned with numerous medals hanging from their chests.
They saw that I was staring and reading their badges and the one of them said: “We are decorated.”
As if on cue, they then said in unison, “Decorated for losing a country,” they said amid bursts of laughter.
“Which country did you lose?” I asked.
“Oh, Rhodesia. We are decorated for losing Rhodesia,” they shot back.
This was going to be one hell of a ride.
One of their badges caught my eye.
It was a round green badge with a Zimbabwean map and a flame lily emblazoned on it.
It was inscribed the words “Rhodesian Veterans Association 1890-1980.”
“I am from Zimbabwe; the country was never yours from the beginning. How can you sulk over losing something that wasn’t yours?” I shouted from my face mask.
They looked at each other and nodded their heads.
“We served in the Rhodesian Army from 1973 to 1980. We fought in the Rhodesian bush war. We served during the peak of the war,” one of them began recounting.
“We were part of ‘Operation Dingo’; we participated in many battles, but, look, the guerrillas were well-drilled much to our surprise.”
We discussed the war, many battles, their victories as well as losses. They knew most of the guerrilla leaders.
“(Dr Joshua) Nkomo was a good man. Mugabe, ummm, that one was a hot-head. But militarily, we knew Tongogara, we called him JT in our circles. One hell of a giant.
“Tongogara made our lives miserable with his troops. He was a doer and he planned his war very well. Those guys were lucky to have him on their side.
He made the difference.
“We used to have spies who joined the guerrillas, but he would quickly sniff them out. Those who managed to come back gave reports of how well-respected JT was within the rank and file of his soldiers,” they said.
Seeing my interest in the subject, they later gave me the contact of one Timothy Curran.
They said I could ring him for anything about JT.
After a couple of weeks, Curran responded to my WhatsApp texts.
“Tongogara . . . was close to General Peter Walls and he kept the professional lines of communication during the entirety of the war . . . The generals had felt the brunt of the war and they had agreed to a ceasefire.
“JT emerged as the moderator we did not expect. He wanted a united front on their side and most of the time,” Curran said.
Questions sent to the Rhodesian Veterans Association were not responded to by the time of going to print.
The Australian-based charity organisation is very alive and now and again, they share and remember their fallen heroes.
On December 15, they commemorated “Operation Dingo”, exchanging memories of one of their “victories”, which is, however, a sad episode in the history of the liberation struggle.
Under Operation Dingo, which occurred from November 23 to November 25, 1977, more than 3 000 refugees died and 5 000 more were wounded when the Rhodesians attacked Chimoio.
A former 4 Independent Company (RAR) member in the Rhodesian Army, Daryl Sahli, who is also the author of the book “Steely Eyed Killers” and several other books on Rhodesian history, was one of the presenters.
Of General Tongogara, he said: “A good soldier who did everything for his motherland. He was astute and selfless.
“He spoke his mind and believed what he meant. He wanted a united Zimbabwe, something that some extremists didn’t want.
“There are so many theories surrounding his death, but I also believe that whatever happened, he didn’t die, he faded away.”
The Second Republic under President Mnangagwa has been at the forefront of honouring the celebrated commander.
In 2018, the President renamed King George VI barracks in Harare into Josiah Magama Tongogara Barracks.
It was a recognition that was long overdue.
The late General’s widow, Mrs Angelina Tongogara, finally got a chance to visit the scene of her husband’s accident in Mozambique, 40 years after his death.
Ms Nyaradzo Tongogara, daughter to the late fearless commander, said the family, as they have religiously done over the years, will gather and lay wreaths on his grave.
The Josiah Magama Tongogara Foundation and scholarship programme is also being reinvigorated.
“Pre-Covid-19, we had plans to put more spotlight on the foundation and scholarship programme but then it was put in disarray. The foundation is still much alive and soon everything will take shape,” she added.
Every revolution has its heroes and the Zimbabwean story can never be complete without General Tongo’s name.
His name should live for generations to come.
Posterity should be told that the great old soldier did not die. No!
He just faded away.
