
By EditorZambia
The turmoil surrounding the Patriotic Front (PF) leadership of one Given Lubinda today is not merely about leadership, ideology, or strategy. To the contrary, it is about an unspoken but deeply entrenched truth that many within the party refuse to confront openly though it is glaring in their face in plain site.
The truth is that the resistance to Lubinda’s leadership is less about his competence and more about identity politics rooted in the PF’s own history of tribalism and exclusion.
Within the PF circles, particularly the so-called Chambeshi political camp—a loose but powerful alignment drawing heavily from Northern, Luapula, Muchinga, and Eastern provinces, there exists a rigid notion of who can legitimately lead. This bloc, often presenting itself as the guardian of “true green” PF values, has long claimed moral superiority while loudly accusing others of tribalism. Yet it is this very grouping that practices the most rigid and exclusionary identity politics within the party.
The recent attack on Given Lubinda by Dr. Christopher Zumani Zimba on a radio programme did not emerge in a vacuum. It was not spontaneous political disagreement. It was a calculated defence of entrenched interests within the PF that see Lubinda as an outsider—despite his long service, loyalty, and institutional memory.
Zimba’s remarks were less about policy or leadership ability and more about signalling allegiance to hard-core regional and ethnic purists who believe the PF leadership is an inherited preserve.
This is the contradiction at the heart of the PF. A party that began as the Kola Foundation, a Bemba tribal association with their tribal cousins-the easterners and later morphed into a populist movement claiming national appeal has, in practice, been one of the most tribally defined political formations Zambia has ever known. Under the late President Michael Sata, tribalism was not incidental; it was institutionalised. Sata, himself a Bisa, extended his intolerance even to the Bemba—ironically perceived as ethnic kins and political allies, culminating in the bitter and destabilising confrontation with Bemba Chief Chitimukulu. The Bemba/Bisa ethnic standoff, one of the ugliest in Zambia’s post-independence history, only ended with Sata’s death.
It is, therefore, disingenuous for the PF loyalists today to feign shock at accusations of tribalism against Tongas, Lozis, and North Westerners. The PF’s DNA has long been shaped by ethnic mobilisation, selective inclusion, and regional entitlement.
Given Lubinda’s predicament fits squarely within this historical pattern. His mixed-race heritage makes him unacceptable to a section of the PF that believes leadership must look, sound, and originate from a narrowly defined ethnic mould. This is not speculation; Zambia has lived this reality before. When President Sata died in office, Guy Scott—constitutionally next in line—was denied the presidency, not because of incompetence or lack of legitimacy, but because his parentage offended entrenched ethnic prejudices. The precedent was set clearly and brutally.
Lubinda is now facing the same invisible wall. The resistance he encounters has little to do with leadership deficits. In fact, few can dispute his experience, institutional knowledge, or ideological commitment to the PF project. What he lacks, in the eyes of the Chambeshi hardliners, is ethnic acceptability.
Recent events underline how toxic this environment has become. Lubinda’s abduction and brutal assault in Kabwe— was a criminal act that rightly deserves condemnation. It was an attack on democratic norms and political pluralism.
Similarly disturbing was the disruption at Phoenix FM, where cadres allegedly mobilised to prevent Lubinda from appearing on air. These incidents reflect a dangerous escalation of political intolerance in the country.
However, while internal and external aggression against Lubinda must be condemned unequivocally, it should not obscure the internal hostility he faces within his own political party.
The uncomfortable truth is that some PF elements are quietly content to see Lubinda weakened, isolated, or forced out—not because they oppose violence, but because his struggle confirms their belief that he was never meant to lead because of his mixed race identity.
The Chambeshi camp thrives on paradox. It accuses others of regionalism while zealously guarding its own ethnic turf. It preaches unity while practising exclusion. It shouts “tribalism” the loudest precisely because it fears exposure of its own.
Lubinda must, therefore, make a sober political calculation. Within the PF as currently constituted, he will only ever be tolerated as a senior member—never embraced as party president. The earlier he recognises this reality, the more control he will have over his political future. Persisting in a leadership battle defined not by ideas but by immutable identity markers risks shortening his political lifespan.