The Editor Zambia
Tonse Alliance presidential candidate Brian Mundubile’s recent declaration that violence has no place in his movement has been met with scepticism by many Zambians who vividly remember the political environment that characterised the Patriotic Front’s decade in power.
While calls for peaceful campaigns are always welcome in a democracy, critics argue that Mundubile’s remarks cannot be divorced from the political legacy of the party from which the Tonse Alliance largely draws its leadership and support base. 
To many citizens, the statement appears less like a genuine commitment to peace and more like an attempt to rewrite a history that remains fresh in the minds of countless Zambians.
For years, the PF developed a reputation for political intolerance, intimidation, and violence. Opposition leaders, journalists, civil society activists, and ordinary citizens frequently complained of harassment and attacks by PF cadres.
Political gatherings were disrupted, rival supporters were intimidated, and public spaces often became battlegrounds for competing political groups.
It is, therefore, understandable why many observers view Mundubile’s comments with caution because political credibility is built not merely on words but on conduct and historical record.
A party’s commitment to peace must be demonstrated through consistent behaviour over time rather than declarations made during election campaigns.
Indeed, some critics have gone as far as arguing that the PF’s political culture became so closely associated with aggression that its symbol might as well have been a machete rather than the clenched fist that represented the party for years.
While symbolic, such comparisons reflect the depth of frustration among citizens who experienced or witnessed political violence during that period.
The clenched fist itself has often been interpreted as a symbol of strength, resistance, and solidarity in political movements around the world.
However, within Zambia’s political context, many citizens came to associate the PF’s version of the symbol with intimidation rather than empowerment because of the actions of some of its supporters and cadres.
This is why Mundubile’s remarks have generated debate.
Critics argue that one cannot simply separate the Tonse Alliance from the PF’s legacy when many of its leading figures, structures, and political strategies originate from the former ruling party.
To claim ownership of PF achievements while simultaneously distancing oneself from PF failures presents a contradiction that many voters are unlikely to ignore.
For victims of political violence, the issue is particularly sensitive. Families who suffered attacks, businesses that were damaged during politically motivated disturbances, and citizens who felt unable to freely express their views under the previous political climate may find such statements dismissive of their experiences.
The challenge facing Mundubile and the Tonse Alliance is, therefore, not merely to condemn violence in speeches but to convince the public through actions that they have genuinely broken with the practices that many associate with the PF era.
That requires more than campaign rhetoric. It requires consistent messaging, disciplinary action against offenders, and an unequivocal rejection of political intimidation in all its forms.
Zambians deserve peaceful elections and respectful political competition. The country has made significant strides in strengthening democratic norms, and citizens have repeatedly shown that they prefer issue-based campaigns to confrontation.
As the August elections approach, voters will judge political leaders not only by what they say but also by the records they carry and the examples they set.
In that regard, many Zambians remain unconvinced that those emerging from a political tradition long criticised for violence can simply declare themselves champions of peace without first acknowledging and accounting for the past.
Words matter in politics. But history matters even more.
