There is a peculiar, almost rhythmic comedy to the way African politics—much like the dumpster fires of the West, though usually with less expensive tailoring—operates on a cycle of convenient amnesia. Enter Dr. Lazarus McCarthy Chakwera, the former President of Malawi, a man who has spent his career navigating the murky waters of power only to suddenly find himself drowning in the realization that the 'rule of law' is, in fact, quite uncomfortable when it isn’t being used as your personal footstool. Chakwera has recently emerged from his post-presidential silence to issue a 'scathing warning' regarding what he describes as a 'dangerous collapse' of the rule of law. It is a classic performance, a masterclass in the kind of intellectual dishonesty that makes one wonder if politicians are born without a shame reflex or if it’s surgically removed upon inauguration.

According to the Nyasa Times, Chakwera is currently clutching his pearls over the state’s use of law enforcement agencies to target opposition figures through intimidation and 'unlawful arrests.' It is a narrative we have seen played out from the hallowed halls of Washington to the sun-drenched streets of Lilongwe: the moment a leader loses the divine right to command the police, those very same police transform from 'valiant defenders of the state' into 'thugs of a tyrannical regime.' One must marvel at the sheer flexibility of Chakwera’s moral compass. When he held the scepter, the state’s mechanisms were presumably well-oiled machines of justice. Now that he is a private citizen watching his comrades get swept up in the inevitable post-election purge, those same machines are suddenly 'instruments of persecution.' It’s not a collapse of the rule of law, Lazarus; it’s just your turn on the receiving end of the very system you helped maintain.

The former president’s sudden concern for 'due process' is particularly nauseating. To the cynical observer—the only kind of observer worth being—this isn’t a defense of democracy; it’s a preemptive strike. In the theatre of the absurd that is modern governance, the 'political persecution' card is the only one left in the deck for a man whose legacy is being dismantled by the very people he likely thought he’d outmaneuvered. The current administration, of course, is no better. They are merely following the ancient tradition of using the judiciary as a blunt instrument to ensure their predecessors stay too busy with legal fees to mount a comeback. It’s a boring, repetitive game of musical chairs where the prize is the ability to loot the treasury while claiming to be 'cleaning up' the mess of the previous guy.

Chakwera’s rhetoric about 'intimidation' and 'abuse of power' suggests a man who believes the public has the memory of a goldfish. He speaks as if the concept of using the police to harass political rivals was invented the day he left office. This is the fundamental rot at the heart of the political class, regardless of geography or ideology. They do not hate tyranny; they simply hate not being the tyrant. The Left will claim this is a violation of human rights, and the Right will claim it’s a necessary purge of corruption, but both are lying. It is a simple, primal struggle for survival between two groups of parasites who have convinced themselves that their personal fate is synonymous with the fate of the nation.

The tragedy here isn't the alleged 'collapse' of the rule of law in Malawi. The tragedy is the persistent delusion that it ever existed in a form that wasn't subservient to the whims of whoever happens to be sitting in the big chair. Chakwera’s 'warning' is nothing more than the whimper of a man who realized too late that the tiger he was riding has a long memory and a very sharp set of teeth. We are expected to view this as a moment of grave importance, a crossroads for a nation’s soul. In reality, it’s just another Tuesday in a world where the law is a suggestion for the powerful and a cage for everyone else. If the rule of law were truly collapsing, it might actually be an improvement, as it would at least stop pretending to be anything other than a weaponized farce used by one set of grifters to keep another set of grifters from the trough. Chakwera isn't fighting for justice; he’s fighting for the return of his own brand of injustice. And the world, bored and cynical, watches on as the cycle continues, waiting for the next 'scathing warning' from the next man who forgot that the law is only your friend as long as you're the one paying its salary.