/ 10 September 2004

The right to innocence

Like many South Africans I was devastated by the news that a baker’s dozen of our most respected senior politicians have been accused of not revealing to Parliament the full details of their accumulated prosperities. ”The MPs who tried to cover their assets”, jibed the front-page headline in this very paper in a patently clear attempt to hide terrible and hurtful slander behind subtle wordplay.

Determined to find vindication for this shocking defamation, I hurried myself off to see Dr Jesus Soobramoney, the African National Congress’s newly appointed National Adviser on Internal Corruption, Mendacity and Cover-ups. I began by asking him whether there was a solitary grain of truth in the ludicrous accusations that certain ANC MPs had apparently quite innocentlyforgotten to disclose to Parliament their close involvements in multimillion-rand property development businesses, international platinum mining consortia, global insurance brokerage and financial advisory corporations, vast construction enterprises and a small coffee bar.

Dr Soobramoney snorted in sympathy with my question. ”Of course there’s no truth in it. The connections between these parliamentarians and limitless profit-making enterprises must seem to be very obvious to the casual passing journalist. But, as the old saying goes, you should never judge a book by its cover.”

”You mean that with senior ANC politicians there’s always something hidden away in the pages?” I asked ingenuously.

Dr Soobramoney nodded, a wistful look coming into his eye. ”You see, when you look closely at the snide accusations made against these upstanding senior members of our first democratic government, you realise that no allowance whatsoever is being made for the tremendous burden carried by these valuable people in their ongoing struggle to rectify and recompense the abhorrent sins of colonial infamy.”

”You mean that being both a deputy minister and the director of an R860-million black empowerment mining deal is actually a form of recompensation for the horrors of apartheid?” I asked casually.

”You have to start somewhere,” smiled Dr Soobramoney. ”All I’m saying is that under pressure its easy to neglect things. I mean, look at that icon of political respectability, our Western Cape premier. Recently poor Ebrahim was so completely blinded by the stress of his obligations to provide a better life for all, he didn’t notice that, as a result of some computer error, his salary had gone up by a quarter of a million rand. That’s what I call real dedication.”

”Would you say that parliamentarians guilelessly neglecting to disclose their business interests is a bit like forgetting that they shouldn’t hire luxury cars, knock up R50-thousand hotel bills for private seaside orgies, fly their relatives business class around the world, and then pass the cost off to the taxpayer?”

”That’s only what the racist media says,” replied Dr Soobramoney. ”What the ANC acknowledges is that transformation comes at a high cost. Our president himself is a perfect example of the kind of self-sacrifice that is the hallmark of our government. Do you know he had to spend no less than 21-million smackers this year flying his personal Boeing around the world on his mission to explain what a visionary leader Robert Mugabe is. I happen to know it breaks his heart to realise that all that money could otherwise have been be spent on housing or health or food for the poorest of the poor. But then, you can’t buy freedom at the flea market.”

”Getting back to the non-disclosure of assets by parliamentarians,” I said. ”How do you react to Deputy Communications Minister Roy Padayachie saying that, but for the Mail & Guardian phoning to remind him, he might have gone on quite artlessly forgetting his directorships and interests in some six companies?”

”I would say that there are still some uses for the press,” replied Dr Soobramoney.

‘Apart from the whole matter being aired in the racist media, is there any chance that some action will be taken against anyone who is proved to have brazenly flouted parliamentary rules and the law?”

Of course there will,” replied Dr Soobramoney smoothly. As he continued, he smeared a patronising smile across his face just like the one Trevor Manuel uses when he’s explaining the wisdom of his fiscal policies to some brown-nose from SABC television news. ”We all make mistakes, but we have to accept that any citizen, however insignificant or mighty, when accused of obscene disregard of the law, must enjoy the right to prove his or her innocence.”

”What about guilt?” I enquired naively.

”In the ANC guilt is an infinitely subtle concept. It requires continual evaluation and fine-tuning,” chuckled Dr Soobramoney. ”We cannot afford to have open-and-shut guilt, the way the futile media would like to see it. Ameliorative factors need to taken into account when assigning guilt: things like struggle bookkeeping, job creation, the lack of economy-class belly-room on SAA.”

”So we may rest assured that after the appropriate internal procedures and investigative mechanisms have taken place behind closed doors and where there can be no undue influence brought to bear, the politicians will be allowed to announce that they’ve been cleared of all allegations?” I asked shrewdly.

”You catch on fast,” beamed Dr Soobramoney.