In Africa I have seen enormous public explosions of hope and joy on exactly two occasions. In both cases, the Republic of Moçambique has been involved. The first outpouring occurred in 1993. Living that (Southern) spring in Mutare City, I had occasion to inflict horrendously Italianized Portuguese on the “Blue Helmets” from Italy who comprised the UN peacekeeping force in Moçambique. These soldiers, seeking occasional R&R across the border in Zimbabwe, seemed hugely appreciative when I tried to thank them for their difficult service. They also indicated that, as ’93 ran toward its close, I should watch for something very special, and in the December of my departure, I saw it! Dozens of busses came east from the direction of Harare. All were overflowing with refugees: screaming, singing, waving, they hung out the windows and shouted their joy to the people of Zimbabwe. “War finished! We go home! Guerra acabou! Voltamos a Moçambique!” Each bus was bedecked with flags—taped across the front (scarcely allowing air-flow through the radiator), hanging down the sides, waved from the widows—beautiful blue and white flags, the flags of the United Nations, the flags of Jubilee. And at the head of the procession was the military escort for these thousands of returning refugees: one little jeep, three Italian “Blue Helmets,” two rifles, and a gigantic UN flag.
In 1993 the worldly cynics doubted that peace would last or that Moçambique would even survive as a political entity. But, over 14 years, hope and joy have trumped pessimism yet again. Today Moçambique is still at peace, and the country enjoys perhaps the fastest-growing economy in the world. (Yes, I admit that percentage increases are particularly dramatic when one starts at near-zero; still, “Moçambique’s economic miracle” is an admirable achievement.)
On 24SEP07, the joy of 1993 was re-expressed in our university chapel (built, incidentally, by donations from South Korea, a nation saved by a UN expeditionary force). In September, Africa University celebrates Dag Hammarskjőld Day. Indeed, in today’s Zimbabwe, probably no white person (uh, granting Jesus “colored” status) is more revered than the second Secretary General of the United Nations. He is admired because of his shrewd military-political decisions; he is respected because of his unquestioned integrity, and he is loved because, on 12SEP61, he gave his life on a peacemaking mission in Africa.
And so, in today’s chapel, we stood to sing three national anthems: of Zimbabwe, of Moçambique, and of Sweden. The Swedish ambassador said a word of thanks. And then we were addressed by Joaquim Chissano, former President of Moçambique. The words of this famous man were predictable—“peace and development are two sides of the same coin”; no Dunlapian eloquence here—but their very predictability testified to their truth. And, more than his words, the presence of Chissano, a man who led his country along the path of reconciliation, honored the memory of Dag Hammarskjőld, and of his spiritual children—including three Italian soldiers, sharing a jeep and two rifles, who led a triumphal procession of joyful refugees back into the Moçambique whose anthem we sang today. “…[N]ossa terra gloriosa,” indeed!
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