Introduction
5
saying, were over. The time had arrived for defenseless civilians to attempt to rebuild their shattered lives, ceasefire or no ceasefire.16 Nevertheless, the Naparamas were not an unmitigated good. The “recuperation” of captive civilians in Renamo-held zones to government-controlled territory resulted in the dislocation and forced resettlement of thousands of people.17 And as the movement expanded, a growing number of Naparama initiates began levying local tribute, stealing, looting and setting up protection rackets. Before too long, the anti-bullet vaccine, which had initially been available free of charge, could only be secured at a steep price. Some Naparama units even began to refuse to return recuperados (people who had been “recuperated”) to their homes until their families paid a fee for their release. As António’s army became more extractive, it also became progressively more authoritarian and violent. Naparamas strongarmed people into joining or supporting the movement. They imposed a growing number of highly restrictive taboos and strictures, ostensibly designed to safeguard the vaccine’s protective powers, on both its fighters and the communities they served. And, in some areas, they gained notoriety for killing civilians, especially men, in Renamo zones.18 In the meantime, Renamo set about adjusting its military strategy to beat back the Naparama advance and to recoup lost territory. It also developed its own vaccine to counteract António’s. At the end of 1991, rebel guerrillas in Zambézia killed António. Thereafter, the tensions and fissures within the Naparama army became ever more pronounced. Some Naparama units took to freelance banditry. A few even defected to Renamo.19 In Namapa District, the Naparamas stood accused of a host of abuses and excesses. These included attacking government forces and international relief convoys; perpetrating some of the worst atrocities against civilians in Renamo-controlled territory; extorting food from locals; and fining nonNaparamas who failed to comply with the movement’s dictates. They had even been charged with duly executing the district administration’s orders to coerce smallholders to grow cotton, historically one of Mozambique’s leading export earners and, during the colonial period, a forced crop.20 Taken literally, the claim that the Namapa Naparamas were staging a work stoppage did not make sense. No Naparama forces had ever been on a formal payroll. And all Naparama units had been out of action since Frelimo and Renamo leaders had signed a peace accord in Rome in October 1992. It was now almost two years later. In popular discourse in Mozambique, however, being “on strike” held wider connotations – especially in advance of the country’s first multiparty poll then just a few months away. Widespread uncertainty regarding the electoral outcome and its effects on the country’s fragile peace prevailed. South Africa’s just-concluded transition to black majority under an ANC-led government had shored up hopes that the peace process in Mozambique could likewise be brought to a successful conclusion. Such hopes were, however, shadowed by fears that Mozambique in 1994 could turn into a replay of Angola in 1992. In Angola, a similar
