LazyLion
King of de Jungle
Time to stop the Zuma Saga
By Pieter Schoombe (On the Contrary Column)
E-mail: [email protected]
Scanned from the Cape Business News, September 2008, page 40
THE annual Kalfie Festival was recently celebrated in Onrus River and it was my privilege to chair a discussion on South Africa after Thabo Mbeki.
Although our ANC panelist got cold feet, the others got us thinking: Tony Leon of the Democratic Alliance, Pieter Mulder of the Freedom Front Plus, Izak Jenner, Cape lead¬er of the Independent Democrats, the always provocative Max du Preez and Martie Meiring, grande dame of South African journalism.
This was the context of our discussion:
When Nelson Mandela became president in 1994, he had two deputy presidents in the government of national unity - F.W. De Klerk and Cyril Ramaphosa. Right? Of course not, but Ramaphosa was Mandela's first choice, given the decisive role he had played in the multi-party negotiations and his effectiveness as union leader during the Struggle against apartheid. After all, it was the internal activ¬ism that forced the National Party to the ne¬gotiating table, rather than the ineffectual armed resistance of the ANC in exile.
As it happened, the deputy president was Thabo Mbeki, a returned exile who had se¬cured his position by back-room scheming and conniving, thus ensuring that his rival was not only out of the deputy presidency, but also out of the cabinet and out of politics, never to be a threat to Mbeki again.
The new era brought several leaders to prominence. One who turned out to be par¬ticularly popular, was Gauteng premier To¬kyo Sexwale. He was handsome, he was char¬ismatic and he was in touch with the people. So he was generally expected to go on to great-er things. Maybe the deputy presidency or the presidency - maybe a threat to Mbeki?
Well that was that for Sexwale. Mbeki did what he does best and the popular Gauteng leader was banished from his province and from politics, never to threaten Mbeki again.
Another leader who turned out to be ex¬ceptionally popular among all the people of his province, was Mathews Phosa, the Nels-pruit lawyer and later exile who had become premier of Mpumalanga. Soon greater things were also predicted for him and he made no secret of his desire to follow the democratic road and make himself available for election to the deputy presidency of the ANC.
Serious mistake. Thabo Mbeki would have none of this democratic nonsense. He pre¬ferred the backroom scheming and conniv¬ing that has always worked for him and soon Mathews Phosa was banished from his prov¬ince to the obscurity of Parliament's back benches.
Later, when these three gentlemen re¬gained their prominence by being wonderful¬ly successful in business, their refusal to fade away sparked another attack of paranoia. The result was that farcical investigation of an al¬leged plot they were supposed to be hatching against Mbeki as head of state.
This is the way Mbeki had always dealt with competition. And the important point is, the voting members of the ANC know it.
In the meantime the government of na¬tional unity had been dumped in the dustbin of history and Mbeki was the only deputy pres-ident, which position he used to ensure that he succeeded Mandela. His own choice as deputy for himself was another ANC provin-cial leader, Jacob Zuma from Kwazulu-Natal. As the Inkatha Freedom Party was then the government in that province, Zuma was not a premier, he had a lower profile and, most significantly, he publicly stated that he had no ambition to become president.
But while Mbeki flew to the world's capi¬tals, Zuma did not mind going to the out-of-the-way places. While Mbeki was formal and aloof, Zuma was at ease and comfortable among the people. While Mbeki wore West¬ern suits and drank imported whiskey, Zuma was just as relaxed in tribal dress while quaff¬ing the local brew. More and more, the people took to him and steadily his stature grew. To the point where he announced that he would, after all, seek the party leadership.
This was not what Mbeki had in mind. This was serious competition, for the position Mbeki had regarded as his by right.
While these events were unfolding, anoth¬er, parallel dynamic was taking its course. In the late nineties the ANC government decid¬ed that our country was under such serious threat from across our borders that we ur¬gently needed to spend R30 billion to pur¬chase armaments. Despite the fact that the bill was likely to increase (some now estimate it at R60 billion, double the original price tag), that our people needed education, housing, water, electricity and hospitals, that our in¬frastructure needed to be maintained and ex-panded, the arms traders made the deal look so appetizing that our politicians could not resist.
Soon the rumours of bribes, kick-backs and "commissions" followed. After initial deni¬als, Government agreed to an investigation and then it started acting in a fashion bound to aggravate suspicions. Judge Willem Heath was suddenly and contortedly disqualified as an investigator. Parliament's oversight com¬mittee came under strict instructions to do as they were told. The ANC appointed one of its own cadres to do an investigation. Finally they decreed that nothing untoward had hap¬pened and threatened to jail anybody who did not believe them.
And so the arms deal was swept under the carpet, where the ANC hoped it would stay. Then Tony Yengeni's little bit of luck with the price of a Mercedes Benz got out and eventu¬ally, to his utter dismay, he was jailed. The rest remained hidden, until Thabo Mbeki had to deal with a deputy who no longer knew his place. Now the two dynamics came together.
Now a little more of the seedy side of the arms deal was selectively uncovered, just enough to convict Jacob Zuma's close associ¬ate Schabir Shaik.
And then Zuma was fired. When he did not disappear into disgraced obscurity, a false rape charge followed. That was dismissed by the High Court and Zuma went head-to-head against Mbeki for the presidency of the ANC. Zuma won. But that was not the end of it, attempts to disqualify him continue in the courts.
Today we have a situation where the man who will be South Africa's president next year is being prosecuted on serious charges. While thousands of people are demonstrating out¬side in the streets, some more peacefully than others. At the same time newspaper reports of bribes paid to others in the ANC, including Pres Mbeki, continue.
Former ANC MP Andrew Feinstein, who resigned from Parliament over this issue, says Yengeni, Shaik and Zuma should not be the only people suffering the consequences of "what went down in the arms deal". That is exactly the sentiment of the majority of ANC members. Some just express their feelings less responsibly than others.
What is to be done? Continue with a selec¬tive prosecution and suffer the social and po¬litical instability that is bound to follow? On principle, there are fine arguments for doing exactly that. But in politics, the choice is sel¬dom between good and bad; it is often be-tween bad and less bad.
I believe a proposal by Max du Preez might be the best way forward. It has been done before in similarly difficult circumstances, such as when former British prime minister Margaret Thatcher's son faced serious charg¬es in South Africa.
I don't know if it will be acceptable to Zuma, I am convinced it won't be acceptable to Mbeki, but if a plea bargain can be negotiated to re¬solve the issue with the payment of a fine, we can get on with our lives and our country will be the better for it.
By Pieter Schoombe (On the Contrary Column)
E-mail: [email protected]
Scanned from the Cape Business News, September 2008, page 40
THE annual Kalfie Festival was recently celebrated in Onrus River and it was my privilege to chair a discussion on South Africa after Thabo Mbeki.
Although our ANC panelist got cold feet, the others got us thinking: Tony Leon of the Democratic Alliance, Pieter Mulder of the Freedom Front Plus, Izak Jenner, Cape lead¬er of the Independent Democrats, the always provocative Max du Preez and Martie Meiring, grande dame of South African journalism.
This was the context of our discussion:
When Nelson Mandela became president in 1994, he had two deputy presidents in the government of national unity - F.W. De Klerk and Cyril Ramaphosa. Right? Of course not, but Ramaphosa was Mandela's first choice, given the decisive role he had played in the multi-party negotiations and his effectiveness as union leader during the Struggle against apartheid. After all, it was the internal activ¬ism that forced the National Party to the ne¬gotiating table, rather than the ineffectual armed resistance of the ANC in exile.
As it happened, the deputy president was Thabo Mbeki, a returned exile who had se¬cured his position by back-room scheming and conniving, thus ensuring that his rival was not only out of the deputy presidency, but also out of the cabinet and out of politics, never to be a threat to Mbeki again.
The new era brought several leaders to prominence. One who turned out to be par¬ticularly popular, was Gauteng premier To¬kyo Sexwale. He was handsome, he was char¬ismatic and he was in touch with the people. So he was generally expected to go on to great-er things. Maybe the deputy presidency or the presidency - maybe a threat to Mbeki?
Well that was that for Sexwale. Mbeki did what he does best and the popular Gauteng leader was banished from his province and from politics, never to threaten Mbeki again.
Another leader who turned out to be ex¬ceptionally popular among all the people of his province, was Mathews Phosa, the Nels-pruit lawyer and later exile who had become premier of Mpumalanga. Soon greater things were also predicted for him and he made no secret of his desire to follow the democratic road and make himself available for election to the deputy presidency of the ANC.
Serious mistake. Thabo Mbeki would have none of this democratic nonsense. He pre¬ferred the backroom scheming and conniv¬ing that has always worked for him and soon Mathews Phosa was banished from his prov¬ince to the obscurity of Parliament's back benches.
Later, when these three gentlemen re¬gained their prominence by being wonderful¬ly successful in business, their refusal to fade away sparked another attack of paranoia. The result was that farcical investigation of an al¬leged plot they were supposed to be hatching against Mbeki as head of state.
This is the way Mbeki had always dealt with competition. And the important point is, the voting members of the ANC know it.
In the meantime the government of na¬tional unity had been dumped in the dustbin of history and Mbeki was the only deputy pres-ident, which position he used to ensure that he succeeded Mandela. His own choice as deputy for himself was another ANC provin-cial leader, Jacob Zuma from Kwazulu-Natal. As the Inkatha Freedom Party was then the government in that province, Zuma was not a premier, he had a lower profile and, most significantly, he publicly stated that he had no ambition to become president.
But while Mbeki flew to the world's capi¬tals, Zuma did not mind going to the out-of-the-way places. While Mbeki was formal and aloof, Zuma was at ease and comfortable among the people. While Mbeki wore West¬ern suits and drank imported whiskey, Zuma was just as relaxed in tribal dress while quaff¬ing the local brew. More and more, the people took to him and steadily his stature grew. To the point where he announced that he would, after all, seek the party leadership.
This was not what Mbeki had in mind. This was serious competition, for the position Mbeki had regarded as his by right.
While these events were unfolding, anoth¬er, parallel dynamic was taking its course. In the late nineties the ANC government decid¬ed that our country was under such serious threat from across our borders that we ur¬gently needed to spend R30 billion to pur¬chase armaments. Despite the fact that the bill was likely to increase (some now estimate it at R60 billion, double the original price tag), that our people needed education, housing, water, electricity and hospitals, that our in¬frastructure needed to be maintained and ex-panded, the arms traders made the deal look so appetizing that our politicians could not resist.
Soon the rumours of bribes, kick-backs and "commissions" followed. After initial deni¬als, Government agreed to an investigation and then it started acting in a fashion bound to aggravate suspicions. Judge Willem Heath was suddenly and contortedly disqualified as an investigator. Parliament's oversight com¬mittee came under strict instructions to do as they were told. The ANC appointed one of its own cadres to do an investigation. Finally they decreed that nothing untoward had hap¬pened and threatened to jail anybody who did not believe them.
And so the arms deal was swept under the carpet, where the ANC hoped it would stay. Then Tony Yengeni's little bit of luck with the price of a Mercedes Benz got out and eventu¬ally, to his utter dismay, he was jailed. The rest remained hidden, until Thabo Mbeki had to deal with a deputy who no longer knew his place. Now the two dynamics came together.
Now a little more of the seedy side of the arms deal was selectively uncovered, just enough to convict Jacob Zuma's close associ¬ate Schabir Shaik.
And then Zuma was fired. When he did not disappear into disgraced obscurity, a false rape charge followed. That was dismissed by the High Court and Zuma went head-to-head against Mbeki for the presidency of the ANC. Zuma won. But that was not the end of it, attempts to disqualify him continue in the courts.
Today we have a situation where the man who will be South Africa's president next year is being prosecuted on serious charges. While thousands of people are demonstrating out¬side in the streets, some more peacefully than others. At the same time newspaper reports of bribes paid to others in the ANC, including Pres Mbeki, continue.
Former ANC MP Andrew Feinstein, who resigned from Parliament over this issue, says Yengeni, Shaik and Zuma should not be the only people suffering the consequences of "what went down in the arms deal". That is exactly the sentiment of the majority of ANC members. Some just express their feelings less responsibly than others.
What is to be done? Continue with a selec¬tive prosecution and suffer the social and po¬litical instability that is bound to follow? On principle, there are fine arguments for doing exactly that. But in politics, the choice is sel¬dom between good and bad; it is often be-tween bad and less bad.
I believe a proposal by Max du Preez might be the best way forward. It has been done before in similarly difficult circumstances, such as when former British prime minister Margaret Thatcher's son faced serious charg¬es in South Africa.
I don't know if it will be acceptable to Zuma, I am convinced it won't be acceptable to Mbeki, but if a plea bargain can be negotiated to re¬solve the issue with the payment of a fine, we can get on with our lives and our country will be the better for it.
