By EditorZambia
By any honest measure, a Council of Elders is meant to be society’s moral compass. Across Africa and beyond, elders derive authority not from ambition or partisan loyalty but from age, wisdom, neutrality, and trust earned over decades.
They mediate conflict, preserve culture, guide leaders, and, above all, act in the national interest. That is the gold standard. It is also precisely why the so-called Council of Elders operating in Zambia today stands accused of betraying the very values it claims to represent. 
Far from being a neutral, unifying body, mounting evidence suggests this council is a partisan contraption, a rogue organisation with deep and unmistakable links to the former ruling party, the Patriotic Front (PF), working—openly and covertly—to engineer a political comeback by any means possible. Its latest manoeuvres, aimed at sponsoring or imposing a preferred PF-aligned candidate to challenge President Hakainde Hichilema in the August 13 elections, have stripped away the last pretence of impartiality.
Historically and globally, councils of elders function as custodians of unity. They are inclusive, broadly representative, and deliberately removed from day-to-day political scheming. Their legitimacy flows from diversity, moral authority, and national outlook. Zambia’s version fails this test spectacularly.
Start with composition. The council is populated by individuals with clear, public histories in PF politics or governments aligned to it. Names such as former Vice President Inonge Wina, former diplomat Muhabi Lungu, Akashambatwa Mbikusita Lewanika and Mbita Chitala—figures closely associated with the Movement for Multi-Party Democracy (MMD) and later the PF—are not neutral arbiters standing above politics. They are political actors with well-documented partisan pedigrees. Even more troubling, several members are arguably too young to qualify as “elders” by any cultural or traditional definition, yet remain united by one thread: proximity to PF power networks.
This raises a fundamental question. If the council was born out of PF circles, for PF interests, at what point—if ever—did it transform into a national body? Who sanctioned that shift? What are its terms of reference? Who funds it? And who does it truly answer to?
On inclusivity, the picture is even bleaker. A body claiming national stature inexplicably lacks representation from entire regions. There are no elders from North-Western, Western, Southern, and parts of Central Province. Traditional leaders are conspicuously absent. So are respected voices from major churches, civil society organisations, and non-partisan national institutions. This is not a national council. It is a narrow club with ulterior motives.
Citizens First (CF) National Youth chairperson Maxwell Chongu has been among the most forthright critics. Chongu, himself a former PF member, has openly questioned the council’s sincerity, its mandate, and its backers. He has also hinted at the presence of a shadowy PF-linked figure pulling strings from behind the curtain. His concerns are not idle speculation; they echo a growing unease across the opposition landscape.
That unease crystallised when TONSE Alliance faction leader Brian Mundubile publicly declined an invitation to attend the council’s planned indaba scheduled for February 19. Mundubile did not mince his words. He accused the council of attempting to impose a preferred candidate on opposition parties to challenge President Hichilema. Such an accusation, coming from a senior opposition figure from the PF inner circle itself, is damning. It underscores a perception that the council is less interested in unity than in coronation.
Mundubile’s scepticism was reinforced during a recent meeting in Ibex Hill convened by Reverend Edith Mutale and attended by former Vice President Inonge Wina and Dr. Lawrence Mwelwa. According to sources present, Mundubile directly challenged the opaque process the council is using to identify a presidential candidate. His discomfort spoke volumes. When those supposedly being “united” feel coerced rather than consulted, the mask has slipped.
Citizens First has gone further, describing the council as largely made up of former PF members and questioning its impartiality outrightly. These are not isolated voices. They form a pattern. Across parties and platforms, the same concern keeps resurfacing: this council is advancing a PF agenda, not a national one.
Equally worrying is the broader ecosystem within which the council operates. There is increasing talk of PF-linked politicians working in the shadows, using NGOs, sympathetic church leaders, and multiple platforms to sanitise the PF brand and repackage it for a return to power.
The Council of Elders appears to be one of the more respectable fronts in this strategy—designed to cloak partisan manoeuvring in the language of wisdom, peace and unity.
Zambians are not naïve. They remember the PF years. They also understand the difference between genuine elder statesmanship and recycled political influence. President Hichilema was elected on a platform of reform, accountability and economic recovery, and the political contest ahead should be fought openly, honestly and transparently—not through backroom councils with questionable legitimacy.
If the Council of Elders wishes to be taken seriously, it must answer the hard questions. It must open its books, clarify its mandate, broaden its membership, and demonstrate genuine neutrality. Until then, it will remain what many now see it as: a rogue political project masquerading as moral authority, working tirelessly to drag Zambia backwards under the guise of unity.
