King Mswati III of Eswatini had a bad bout of Covid as the pandemic’s second wave swept through his kingdom early this year. Rumours about his health swirled while he lay in hospital. Six weeks later, having recovered, he told parliament: "I tested Covid-19 positive for a couple of days in the first week of January 2021."
Discussing his health was an unprecedented move, but these are unusual times. Mswati even proffered an explanation for not speaking out earlier: "I did not announce it then, but when I intended to mention it, I discovered that I was now negative."
He also thanked Taiwan for providing the antiviral treatment that made him better, and said he intended to acquire stocks for hospitals in the country, where just over 47,000 vaccine doses have been administered to a million-strong population.
Prime Minister Ambrose Dlamini was not so lucky. He died in hospital in December, weeks after testing positive for Covid.
These are unusual times in Africa’s last absolute monarchy. The king’s illness prompted Swaziland News editor and controversial royal critic Zweli Martin Dlamini to imagine a new life.
"Political parties must start preparing for democratic elections in 2023 as the tinkhundla oppressive system of governance takes its last breath," he wrote, referring to the constituency system in the country.
Dlamini speculated that, should Mswati die, the government would impose a strict Covid lockdown and settle internal battles before announcing his death. Then he envisaged international intervention for a transition to a constitutional monarchy.
That would have taken the country back to the form of government in place from independence in 1968 until 1973, when King Sobhuza II, following the loss of three parliamentary seats by his party, issued a decree suspending the independence constitution and banning political parties.
His son, Mswati, took power in 1986 as an absolute monarch with an autocratic style.
Dlamini might have incorrectly predicted the demise of the king, but there was some truth in his assertion that public sentiment towards the system of absolute monarchy is changing in Eswatini.
Last week the country was rocked by some of the most violent protests since widespread strikes by workers in 1996. Among other things, protesters want more say in government, including the direct election of a prime minister (the king currently appoints the head of government).
The authorities responded by tightening Covid restrictions, including an overnight curfew starting at 6pm. Protesters burnt and looted shops and businesses, and the riots made international headlines.
The Southern African Development Community (Sadc) troika for politics, defence & security sent a ministerial fact-finding mission over the weekend, hoping to establish dialogue between the government and civil society organisations.
The EU, Taiwanese and US missions supported this, adding in a statement: "It is critical now to create the space for peaceful, productive and inclusive talks." It added its voice to Sadc’s condemnation of the "use of violence and destruction of property" by the protesters.
Opposition activists have put the deaths of protesters at the hand of security forces at between 40 and 70; the government’s tally, so far, is one.
In a statement. acting Prime Minister Themba Masuku called for calm and, with apparent reference to the monarchy, said: "We have consistently respected the structures that define us, the ethos that makes us different from the rest of the world. We have held high the values and traditions that have kept us united even when we do not see eye to eye."
Not unusually, the royal household has been quiet. Rumours that the king fled last Monday night, following a day of particularly violent rioting, turned out to be untrue.
There has been simmering unhappiness in Eswatini for years as public servants’ salaries remain stagnant and poverty persists. In March, Save the Children estimated that a third of the population goes hungry.
This is in contrast with conspicuous consumption by the royals, such as Mswati acquiring 11 customised Rolls-Royce limousines in 2019.
Protests have rarely attracted outside attention, and Pudemo — an opposition group that was declared a terrorist organisation and banned in 2008 — has been less vocal as funding has floundered.
But anger erupted in May after the death of student Thabani Nkomonye, allegedly at the hands of police. Pictures surfaced that disproved police claims that he died in a car accident, and started trending on social media with the hashtag #JusticeForThabani.
These brought demands for a multiparty democracy that would hold institutions such as the police to account, rather than have security forces answerable to the king alone.
Three reformist members of parliament led calls for government reforms and encouraged people to go to their tinkhundla with their grievances. This is usually an effective way to channel free expression from the streets.
But Masuku had ordered that disgruntled citizens should e-mail their grievances rather than assemble, citing Covid concerns.
The clampdown led to the pressure cooker boiling over. It’s this, along with the protests’ "organic" nature (there is no centralised leadership), that led to the unprecedented levels of destruction (or "anarchy", as the government calls it.)
Social media blackouts also meant protest actions could not be co-ordinated, leading to mobs acting in whatever way they saw fit.
Bheki Makhubu, editor of The Nation newspaper, attributes the violence to a "gap of leadership", both among anti-government activists and in government — including by the prime minister.
Also, he says, the king has "run out of sober advisers. People are just there for themselves."
The deaths this past year of veteran opposition leaders Jan Sithole, president of the Swaziland Democratic Party, and Mario Masuku, former president of Pudemo, have been an additional blow.
Sithole was one of the few MPs who managed to represent a party in a system where political parties are technically banned, and he was intent on challenging the status quo.
It’s not clear what killed Sithole (there are reports of a poisoning), but Masuku is said to have died of Covid complications in January.
Mandla Hlatshwayo, a founder member of Pudemo, says Masuku’s death was a "monumental loss" that has "given impetus to the struggle and a new sense of urgency".
Ultimately, he says, the older generation (himself included) is being replaced by a "new breed of youth who are impatient and less tolerant ... to the abuse of power and domination by the king and his family of all spheres of life and the economy".
Mswati’s absolute power is political as well as economic. He is responsible for appointing the prime minister and the cabinet, all 30 members of the powerful Senate, and 10 members of the House of Assembly.
Voters elect the other 59 members of parliament in their tinkhundla, but because parties are not allowed to campaign, candidates "buy" votes by promising things like food and scholarships.
Patronage is important, and the royal family’s business interests and its share of the state coffers mean Mswati is able to dispense such largesse generously when needed.
Hlatshwayo, a former president of the Swaziland Sugar Industry, says Mswati has the power to set his own budget allocation without public scrutiny, enabling him to pay for his personal security.
"He has consistently directed public expenditure to areas of his personal business interests," Hlatshwayo says — like the construction of the King Mswati III International Airport and the international convention centre and five-star hotel.
Tenders for these have gone to Inyatsi Construction — a company in which Mswati’s investment trust has a stake, according to a report by investigative journalism group amaBhungane. (Inyatsi has denied the claim.)
Other than Mswati’s shares in major businesses — Hlatshwayo says he controls more than 55% of the value created by the sugar industry, for example — the polygamous king’s family and children enjoy preferential access to business opportunities.
In contrast, more than half of Eswatini’s youth are unemployed, with few prospects for the future.
"This continues to generate anger and frustration, and this time appears to have a new tipping point," says Hlatshwayo.
The huge attack on businesses was as close as protesters could come to attacking the king, whose palace is heavily guarded by police and soldiers, say activists.
For now, overt dissent has subsided — and it remains to be seen whether protesters will continue to garner public sympathy after they destroyed the shops and businesses that provided a livelihood for many.
The levels of poverty and unemployment are in stark contrast to the royals’ wealth and power
— What it means:
A poor show
The average person in Eswatini lives on less than $1.90 a day. The country’s voluntary review to the UN in 2019 says that 58.9% of the population lives below that international baseline, rising to 70% in rural areas.
Last year Lisa Peterson, then US ambassador to Eswatini, asked how the international community could continue giving millions of dollars in aid to the country while King Mswati III continued spending money with abandon.
She listed the 11 customised Rolls-Royces he bought for his family in 2019, as well as "royal family trips to Disney World" in the middle of a drought that gripped the rural kingdom at the time. She also asked why so many of the royal children go on government trips to New York for meetings of the UN General Assembly.
Social media pages with names like "Swazi Royal Leeches" are devoted to the millions that the royal family spend on expensive watches and Gucci bracelets, and they contrast this with the poverty of ordinary people.
In 2018, the year he turned 50, there were reports that Mswati had spent R700m on an Airbus 340-300 from Taiwan, and refurbished the airport at a cost of R2bn so there would be place to park it.
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