John Darnton

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These days, as I watch Robert Mugabe tighten his 28-year-old stranglehold on Zimbabwe while the forces of opposition try to pry away his fingers, I can’t help thinking back to a conversation he and I once tried to have about T. S. Eliot, poetry and the month of April.

Let me explain.

At the time, nearly 30 years ago, Mr. Mugabe was an unknown leader of a guerrilla movement trying to overthrow white rule in what was then Rhodesia. I was a New York Times foreign correspondent covering Africa. And Rhodesia itself was a delusional outpost of colonial living in which many of the 270,000 whites appeared blissfully unaware of a war being pressed on behalf of the seven million blacks.…  Seguir leyendo »