THE ARCHITECTURE OF AUTHORITARIANISM: HOW HICHILEMA BENT ZAMBIA’S CONSTITUTION TO HIS WILL.
Chishala Kateka
Zambia’s constitutional amendment of 2025 was not a reform but a calculated design, a blueprint to keep Hakainde Hichilema at the centre of power. Act No. 8 fused the presidential vote, the fifty plus one rule, and proportional representation into a single mechanism that ensures Parliament’s composition is tethered to the president’s fortunes.
Musa Mwenye warned that this innovation, unlike anywhere else, weakens democracy by subordinating legislative independence to executive performance. What was once a safeguard of legitimacy has become a lever of control, and what was once a Parliament of the people has become a chamber echoing the presidency.
The fingerprints of HH are everywhere. His own words betray the philosophy: “The President is more important,” read as “I am the most important, not MPs.” In mocking all previous administrations, he dismissed even those who now serve under him, declaring they “had no plan” until HH happened. Musokotwane and Sylvia Masebo, veterans of earlier regimes, were rubbished as leaders without vision until absorbed into his orbit.
The message is unmistakable: HH dictates, and the rest must listen.
Governance under HH is not about taking and giving, it is about dictating. He cannot unite Zambia because unity requires compromise, and compromise is absent in a system designed to elevate one man above all institutions.
The legislative record reinforces the point. The amendment was rushed through with scarcely thirteen days of consultation. Over seventy-seven Bills were passed in less than ten days, including the infamous Public Gathering Bill, withheld from signature not out of principle but to save face.
Parliament has been reduced to a conveyor belt for executive will, its presiding officers behaving less like guardians of procedure and more like enforcers of presidential dominance. The Electoral Commission of Zambia has even taken independents to court, a move that underscores how the machinery of state is deployed to suppress voices outside the ruling party.
Independents, who embody the citizen’s right to stand outside party machinery, are treated as existential threats. They siphon votes from the president, weaken proportional allocations, and fracture the illusion of unity. HH’s hostility toward them is not merely political; it is structural.
The constitution itself has been rewritten to make them unwelcome, exposing the fragility of a system that depends entirely on presidential dominance for coherence.
Supporters cannot escape the fact that in opposition HH delivered very little of what he promised. The rhetoric of “Bally will fix it” has proved slippery, a slogan that evaporates under scrutiny. Not even half of the pledges have materialised, and the gap between promise and performance has become a chasm. The praise singer continues to sing from the book of obedient sycophants.
Thus, when HH mocks those who came before him, he is right. They had no plan for such sweeping consolidation. He has perfected what they only attempted. He has not abolished democracy outright , that would be too crude. He has diluted it, reshaped it, and tethered it to himself.
The tragedy is not that Zambia has lost democracy, but that it has been hollowed out, transformed into a system where Parliament’s legitimacy flows from the presidency. It wears the mask of reform while reflecting only the president’s image. It promises empowerment while delivering obedience. It celebrates independence while punishing it.
In this dilution lies the silent captivity of Zambia’s democratic soul, authored and engineered by Hichilema himself. This is the record Zambia voters must judge.
08 July 2026///