By EditorZambia
In Zambia’s ever-evolving constitutional debate, one reality is becoming increasingly unavoidable: not all civil society voices are speaking from the same place of consistency.
The controversy surrounding Bill 7 has now taken an unexpected turn, and if anything, it has exposed deep contradictions among some of the country’s most prominent governance watchdogs. 
A consortium of eight civil society organisations, among them SACCORD, AIPAC, and the Zambian Civil Liberties Union has done what few expected.
Instead of joining the loud anti-Bill 7 chorus, they have taken a bold, principled stance to defend the very public consultation process that many others rejected, ignored, or abandoned, yet are now challenging in court.
This consortium’s decision to apply to join the Oasis Forum petition has sent tremors across the governance landscape, not because they oppose the petition, but because they intend to defend the process that others are attacking without having participated in it.
Their position is simple but piercing: You can not call a process illegitimate when you refuse to participate in it. You can not point fingers at a house you helped design, then walk away, only to return later shouting that its pillars are crooked. This is where the uncomfortable truth lies.
LAZ, NGOCC, and the Crisis of Consistency
The biggest shock in this unfolding drama is that organisations like the Law Association of Zambia (LAZ) and NGOCC, which were deeply involved in earlier engagements, have performed a baffling U-turn.
The consortium reveals something the public deserves to know:
Some of the petitioners actually had their own members or former members appointed to the Technical Committee, the same committee they now claim lacked inclusivity.
How does one credibly argue that a process is flawed because certain members should not have been appointed when those members include their own?
How does one insist that the process was not people-driven when thousands of Zambians, including members of their own organisations, made submissions across all provinces?
This is the contradiction the consortium refuses to ignore.
If anything, this sudden reversal by LAZ and NGOCC risks sending the wrong message to citizens:
that constitutional legitimacy is not determined by public participation but by which organisations feel represented at a given moment.
The Consultation Process Was Not Perfect—But It Was Real
For fairness, the consortium acknowledges that the earlier stages leading to Bill 7 were limited in consultation. That is precisely why they advocated for the establishment of the Technical Committee. The technical committee was appointed, not because the government wanted it, but because civil society demanded it, including LAZ and NGOCC at the time.
After winning that victory, thousands of submissions were made. Civil society drove nationwide participation and encouraged citizens to speak. People spoke in meetings, in written submissions, in provincial engagements, and through organisational filings.
This is what makes the current petition against the process so puzzling.
Those who took part in shaping the improved process are now the same ones undermining it. Those who rejected the opportunity to influence it are now the loudest in condemning it.
This is not principled advocacy. This is selective participation.
A Court Case That Risks
Silencing the People
The consortium warns that their biggest concern is not the court petition itself, but its effect: the delay or prevention of the release of the Technical Committee’s report, but its for the thousands of Zambians who contributed. This is not a legal technicality. It is the difference between being heard and being erased.
The petitioners claim the process is “not inclusive.” But how inclusive is a scenario where the voices of thousands can be blocked from even being released, simply because certain organisations disagreed with who sat on a committee?
The implication is unsettling:
- A process is legitimate only when certain institutions approve it.
- Public participation is valid only when channelled through specific civil society groups.
If their preferred representatives are not on the committee, then the entire process is “not people-driven.” This is the dangerous precedent the consortium is resisting. Not because they support government. Not because they oppose other civil society groups. But because democracy dies when participation is weaponised.
Civil Society Is Not a Monarchy
One of the consortium’s most powerful lines is that in civil society, “there is no bigger brother.”
No organisation is more legitimate than another.
No church group or legal body is more important than others.
This is a necessary reminder. In recent years, some civil society institutions have behaved as though their voices carry higher moral authority simply because they have existed longer or have historically been revered.
But legitimacy in a democracy is not inherited, it is earned through participation, consistency, and transparency.
By underscoring this, the consortium is defending the integrity of civil society itself.
Civil society must never become an exclusive club where a few organisations determine which voices matter.
Why the Consortium’s Position Matters
This consortium has done what many feared to do: confront the inconsistencies of organisations that the public generally assumes to be infallible. They have challenged the idea that skipping a process gives one the moral upper hand to denounce it.
Their stance protects the principle that consultation matters, even when imperfect.
That public submissions must not be silenced because of institutional disagreements.
And that civil society must operate on equal footing, not under the shadow of self-elected guardians.
The Bigger Picture
Zambia’s constitutional reform journey has always been messy. But this moment may become a turning point.
For the first time in years, civil society is divided, not between government and opposition, but between participation and selective engagement.
The consortium’s bold decision to join the court proceedings is not an act of defiance against their colleagues. It is a reminder that in democracy, every voice matters, not just those that shout the loudest or carry the oldest titles.
As the nation awaits the court’s decision, one thing is already clear:
The debate over Bill 7 is no longer just about amendments.
It is now a test of whether Zambia will embrace consistent, inclusive democratic practice or allow selective participation to shape the country’s future.
In this battle of ideas, the consortium has drawn a line:
If you believe in people-driven processes, then you must respect the people who participated.
Anything less is not advocacy, it is contradiction dressed as principle.
