The sight, or at least the sound, of the Communications Workers' Union (CWU) at the SABC turning into the "Hlaudi Motsoeneng coalition" is a disturbing one – as disturbing as the union's rush to defend the national broadcaster's acting chief operating officer against public protector Thuli Madonsela's findings of malfeasance on his part.
The "coalition" swiftly followed Motsoeneng's own long-winded and blustering press conference in his own defence with the announcement that it would organise "massive" protests around the country to call for Madonsela to vacate her job. It would be instructive to see whether the CWU could actually do that, especially because it can't say how many members it has at the SABC.
But it would also be singularly misguided, especially if the battle to be waged so fervidly by the union is Hlaudi vs Thuli – a cartoon version of the issues at stake.
The union clearly also believes the best form of defence is attack: it calls for the public protector to be dismissed or to resign (it is not clear which) because her actions "seek to undermine the working class" – that and the fact that she is, it says, a Democratic Alliance "mouthpiece".
Neither of these accusations, even if they could be substantiated, actually address the findings against Motsoeneng. To recap, Madonsela found that he lied about having a matric, was appointed in an unprocedural manner, irregularly got three salary hikes in one fiscal year, and raised the salaries of some staff while purging others. She recommended that he be removed from his post.
And yet, in a bizarre reversal, the union accuses the public protector of "the extreme abuse of power to deliver a certain agenda". That sounds like a pretty good summary of what's wrong with Motsoeneng's illegitimate rule at the SABC.
The union leaping to Motsoeneng's defence is also a disturbing echo of other cases in which an instant army of staunch defenders of someone or something suddenly appear and spring into action. A minor version of such an appearance might be the group defending media owner Iqbal Survé against claims that he is destroying editorial independence at his titles, which it did by attacking the person Survé had already removed as editor and calling for more "media transformation". A major version of the same thing would be the informal impis bused in from KwaZulu-Natal to shout and stomp for Jacob Zuma outside the court when he was on trial for rape. Supporting him meant vilifying his accuser, and indicating that a "guilty" verdict would not be accepted.
That kind of support looked very ugly – nearly as ugly as the ANC supporters who grabbed half-bricks, metal poles and petrol bombs and rushed to defend Luthuli House a few weeks ago from a march by the official parliamentary opposition.
Is this a kind of defence by mob attack? Or, more exactly, the use of mob politics by powerful figures to defend themselves? It is, at any rate, a ghastly parody of South Africa's proud tradition of political protest.