Former Zimbabwe President Robert Mugabe (legally deposed in Zimbabwe's presidential election last 29 March, but hanging on to power as long as the troops obey) is in Sharm El-Sheikh, Egypt for an African Union summit conference.
The former President, but still murderous usurping tyrant, is very upset that the world has taken a small degree of notice of his faked results, his attacks on voters and his sham run-off election. The tyrant's "Presidential" spokesman, a George Charamba, says that the western countries demanding that his master be called to account ". . . can go hang. They can go and hang a thousand times."
Mr. Charamba should perhaps remember that others can, and probably will, hang, or be defenestrated, shot, decapitated, or any number of other grisly possibilities. Mouthpieces of tyrants often have a good time before the real world catches up to them. Just ask Joe Goebbels, when you see him.
"Go Hang," indeed. Poor choice of words, Mr. Charamba ! Whatever happens to you, it can hardly be a worse fate than the murder and torture your (very old) evil master is handing out to thousands of your innocent fellow countrymen. But don't worry: when the string runs out, you can tell whatever kangaroo court you wind up in front of that you were only a "Presidential" spokesman, only following orders, and that you didn't know what your boss's rougher minions were doing to your fellow citizens. Maybe it'll even work -- although the court told those who tried it at Nuremburg to "go hang." If you're very unlucky, you'll get relatives of your master's victims as judges.
Act now, Mr. Charamba ! If you jump first, and help others worried about the future to arrange a quick end for the tyrant, you (and your family) will be living the high life in New York or Paris, taking the call from your memoir publisher; having students call you "professor;" or hearing the same smarmy journalists laughing at you today addressing you as "ambassador" and begging you to include them at your next expense-account-paid party in Restaurant Le Meurice or Le Bernadin. If you delay, you'll wind up at the side of a road someplace, staring at the mud in the ditch, waiting for the bullet in the neck, with your family (if they're lucky) penniless refugees someplace.
Think on this, Mr. Charamba, on the long trip back to Harare, as the living dead swill their Euro champagne and outdo each other telling your doddering old bastard of a boss that he's still got it. He's done man, and so are you, if you stay with him. Come to think of it, it's a long, long flight from Sharm el-Sheikh to Harare. . . Choose wisely, and soon. Mr. Charamba. Happy trails.