Bingu bridled at the suggestion of creeping tyranny in an interview with The Guardian. "Malawi and Zimbabwe can never be the same," he insisted. "The political system is different, the economics are totally different.
"What they are trying to do is to draw a parallel between the leadership of Zimbabwe and Malawi. There is no basis for that. That is totally unfair and uncalled for. I have been very democratic.

"From 2004 until now, there is no single political prisoner in a Malawian jail. Is that consistent with the restriction of democracy in this country? We have been very democratic, we have been very patient. I have asked the opposition to come and see me but they refuse.

"It is simply not true. Because if it were true, all these people would have been rounded up. None of them have. They are free now. If indeed Malawi was starting to be a police state, would they still be walking free? That's the question."
Unlike Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe, Bingu has vowed to step down in two years' time, although it is widely predicted he will simply hand over power to his brother Peter, now foreign minister.

"I will leave Malawi better than I found it, but I am retiring in 2014. Is that not democracy? What demonstration of democracy is there more than that? An autocrat has no timeframe, can stay forever.

"And here am I, saying voluntary retirement, and yet I'm called an autocrat, I'm called a tyrant, I'm called anti-democratic. All these adjectives are not fair because things on the ground do not support these adjectives."

Britain's high commissioner described him as "becoming ever more autocratic and intolerant of criticism" – and was expelled in retaliation.
It is a charge Bingu vehemently rejects. "It's total nonsense because there's no country in sub-Saharan Africa that is as free as Malawi," Bingu, 77, told the Guardian.
"People can make statements against the head of state, people can insult the head of state. They call me names – some of them even heckle me at public meetings. I haven't arrested them."

Bingu was speaking at the presidential palace in Blantyre, named after the Scottish birthplace of explorer David Livingstone.
He entered a wood-panelled room in suit and tie and sat, unsmiling, in a regal red chair under a crystal chandelier and the gaze of his own framed portrait. Four twitchy, stiff-backed staff stood deferentially throughout the 50-minute interview.
Bingu alleged that "foreign agents" were plotting regime change in Malawi and pledged to relinquish power in 2014. He described a personal hinterland of fishing, writing screenplays and listening to Handel's Hallelujah Chorus.

The former World Bank technocrat, a darling of the international donor community after his 2004 election, is now condemned by democracy watchdogs for concentrating power in his own hands, attacking freedoms and bullying critics.

Human rights activists say they have been physically assaulted and had their homes petrol-bombed, cars vandalised and offices ransacked.
If he stays true to his word and retires, Bingu will have time to indulge his private passions. "I write a lot, I write like crazy," he said with a smile. "I've got now probably five manuscripts, I wrote some of them 600 pages."

His works include an "interracial novel" and two film screenplays based on the Bible.
Bingu also enjoys tribal music and classical music: "Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Bach. Classical music is quite soothing and comforting. If I had to pick up one, I like Handel's Hallelujah Chorus. That one, you can sing it 100 times, I won't get tired, because I think it's something that is immortal."

One of Bingu's most curious legacies will be his tribute to an infamous predecessor. He ordered the construction of a mausoleum for Malawi's first president, the notorious despot Hastings Banda, whose honorary name he adopted: Ngwazi ("the conqueror").
Bingu's explanation possibly reveals the most about his philosophy: "I don't know whether you can change the minds of those who regard him as a dictator, because it depends upon the definition of what a dictator is.

By The Guardian UK