By EditorZambia
THERE is a troubling new fashion in Zambia’s public discourse: to condemn Bill 7 reflexively, loudly, and self-righteously—facts be damned.
In this noisy marketplace of outrage, relevance is no longer earned through reasoned argument but through how viciously one can denounce the bill and, by extension, anyone who dares to support it. 
The latest entrant into this populist performance is All People’s Congress (APC) leader Nason Msoni, whose attack on the Zambia Congress of Trade Unions (ZCTU) says far more about his political desperation than it does about workers’ interests.
Msoni’s condemnation of ZCTU for supporting the Constitution (Amendment) Bill No. 7 of 2025 is not a principled defence of workers.
It is a calculated attempt to ride the rocking bandwagon of outrage that has become fashionable among a curious coalition of disgruntled lawyers, politicised clergy, armchair academics, bloggers hungry for clicks, tribal champions, and professional naysayers.
In today’s Zambia, nuance is treason. If you do not condemn Bill 7, you must—ipso facto—be a partisan, an apologist for President Hakainde Hichilema, or a puppet of the UPND. Really? ZCTU’s position may be debated, interrogated or even criticised. That is the essence of democracy. But to suggest, as Msoni does, that the labour movement has “betrayed workers” simply because it supports a constitutional amendment he opposes is an insult to the intelligence of Zambian workers.
ZCTU is not a WhatsApp pressure group. It is a historic institution with internal processes, consultations, and with a leadership elected by workers themselves.
To pretend that Blake Mulala woke up one morning and decided to mortgage workers’ interests for political favour is lazy politics masquerading as moral outrage.
Even more reckless is Msoni’s repeated claim that Bill 7 has already been declared unconstitutional by the Constitutional Court. This assertion has become the holy chant of the anti–Bill 7 crusade, repeated so often that its proponents now mistake repetition for truth.
Constitutional interpretation is not a street rally; it is a legal process. To weaponise selective readings of court decisions to shut down debate is not respect for the rule of law—it is its abuse.
Msoni’s argument collapses further when he resorts to emotional blackmail. He lists low wages, high taxes, load shedding, and the cost of living as though constitutional reform exists in a vacuum, disconnected from governance structures that ultimately shape economic outcomes.
Workers can walk and chew gum at the same time. Supporting a constitutional amendment does not mean ignoring bread-and-butter issues. In fact, unions have historically engaged on both economic and constitutional questions because the rules of governance determine how resources are allocated and how power is exercised.
The most distasteful aspect of Msoni’s tirade is his biblical theatrics—likening ZCTU leadership to Judas Iscariot. This is not an argument; it is demagoguery. When politicians run out of facts, they reach for scripture, insults, and exaggerated analogies.
Dragging religious imagery into a constitutional debate cheapens both faith and politics. Workers deserve better than being mobilised through guilt, fear, and betrayal narratives borrowed from the pulpit.
What Msoni carefully avoids is the real question: Why is it acceptable for every civic voice to oppose Bill 7, but unacceptable for one to support it?
Why is dissent only legitimate when it aligns with a particular political mood?
The answer is uncomfortable for opportunists: because outrage has become a currency. Condemning Bill 7 is now a shortcut to relevance. It requires no reading, no legal analysis, and no engagement with the substance—only volume.
Msoni should watch the Haimbe/Sikota debate to understand the difference between substance and hollowness.
If the high priests of Bill 7 Sakwiba Sikota critics could be embarrassed on TV for sharing ignorance with Zambians, who is Msoni with his one man political club to pontificate about the document he doesn’t understand?
ZCTU has taken a position. Others have taken different positions. That is democracy. What is not democracy is the attempt to delegitimise one side by branding it sell-outs, traitors, or authoritarian collaborators. Ironically, this intolerance is coming from those who claim to be defending democratic values.
Msoni warns that history will judge ZCTU leadership. He is right—but history will also judge politicians who mistook noise for leadership and populism for principle. It will judge those who exploited workers’ hardships not to offer solutions but to score cheap political points. It will judge those who believed that shouting “illegal” loudly enough could substitute for coherent argument which men like Haimbe can articulate.
Zambia does not need more bandwagon politics. It needs sober debate, respect for institutional diversity, and the humility to accept that supporting Bill 7 does not automatically make one an enemy of the people.
Workers are not children to be spoken for by politicians in search of relevance. They are citizens capable of engaging complex issues beyond the simplistic binaries of “with us” or “against us.”
If Nason Msoni truly cared about workers, he would engage ZCTU on substance, not sermonise from the sidelines. Until then, his attack remains what it is: not a defence of labour, but a loud, hollow audition for relevance in an age where condemnation has become a career.
