By James Gwati-Vice President Constantino Chiwenga has explained his attendance and induction into the Roman Catholic Guilds at the Church of the Immaculate Conception in Harare this past Sunday, a move that has sparked intense speculation about his political and personal trajectory.
Dressed in formal attire before donning the guild’s robe with the help of his wife, Colonel Miniyothabo Chiwenga, the former military general’s public embrace of his Catholic faith comes at a time of heightened political tension within ZANU-PF, where he remains locked in a power struggle with President Emmerson Mnangagwa.
Addressing reporters after the Sunday church service, Chiwenga insisted that his faith has been a lifelong commitment:
“I was baptized soon after my birth on July 2, 1956, and I have been a Catholic ever since. When I went to the war of liberation in 1973, I never stopped my Catholicism. I went to war with my rosary, and I came back with it. If I am not mistaken, I am one of the first people to be in the office, I come to work early, and my commitment to the church serves as a motivation to my work.”
Catholic guilds are groups of faithful who unite to serve their community through religious devotion and charitable works.
Chiwenga’s induction into this structured environment raises questions about whether his public display of faith is genuine or a calculated political manoeuvre.
Chiwenga’s religious display comes amid ongoing tensions with Mnangagwa, his onetime ally turned political rival.
Their relationship, which began as a strategic military-civilian alliance, has deteriorated into a high-stakes battle for dominance within ZANU-PF.
As a career soldier, Chiwenga played a decisive role in Zimbabwe’s political history.
Rising through the Zimbabwe Defence Forces (ZDF) ranks, he was instrumental in the 2017 coup—officially termed Operation Restore Legacy—which ousted Robert Mugabe and installed Mnangagwa as President.
In return, Chiwenga was rewarded with the Vice Presidency and the powerful Ministry of Defence portfolio, cementing the military’s political role.
However, cracks in their alliance soon emerged as Mnangagwa moved to consolidate power, systematically sidelining military-linked figures and appointing loyalists in key security positions.
Chiwenga, representing the military-backed faction of ZANU-PF, has increasingly found himself isolated.
The rivalry has escalated over the years, with political purges, strategic appointments, and even suspected assassination attempts.
Chiwenga’s unexplained illnesses, which forced him to seek prolonged medical treatment in China, fueled speculation that he was being targeted.
Within ruling party circles, Chiwenga is seen as Mnangagwa’s most formidable internal threat.
Some analysts believe he is positioning himself for a takeover—either through the 2028 elections or an internal power shift within ZANU-PF.
Chiwenga’s decision to align himself with the Roman Catholic Church could be an attempt to broaden his appeal beyond the military and political elite.
The Catholic Church remains a powerful institution in Zimbabwe, often playing a critical role in political and social discourse.
For a man whose public image has been defined by military command and political battles, his sudden embrace of faith suggests a shift—whether genuine or strategic remains to be seen.
Is Chiwenga seeking divine intervention in his political fight, or is this another calculated move in Zimbabwe’s high-stakes power game? Only time will tell.