Don of Alex: Paul Mashatile has bided his time to have a shot at the president’s job.
In my several meetings with politicians this year, the topic inevitably steered towards Paul Mashatile.
Not only was the man holding the keys to the kingdom (it was he who decided which regions and provinces went to conference), it became clear early on that he would be the man to beat in the race for deputy president of the ANC and maybe the country.
In one meeting, an ally of Mashatile, a man who I would later call the consigliere (if ever there was an Alex mafia, he fits the bill) told me that if anyone wants to strike at a buffalo you can’t swing and miss.
At the time, the consigliere and I had no idea what was to come. It was only after a few weeks following Arthur Fraser’s revelations about the theft of millions from President Cyril Ramaphosa’s Phala Phala farm that I realised that an opportunity had presented itself to Mashatile to take a swing.
It was no surprise to me and I’m sure to a certain extent, my colleagues, when the Godfather of Alex struck his blow this week.
On Wednesday, while campaigning in North West — an anchor province for his campaign, second to Limpopo — Mashatile told journalists that should delegates nominate him from the floor for the position of party president, “he would consider it”.
Consider it, he would. A calculated strategist to his credit.
As you will soon learn, I like to present my arguments by first taking a historical dive in the hopes that, together, we can finally come to a conclusion.
Since the ANC emerged as the majority party in 1994, one thing has been clear: no deputy president has ever received a second term.
When Nelson Mandela became president, he chose Thabo Mbeki as his deputy. Mandela, as we all know, was a one-term president. He would then be followed by Mbeki, who was elected with Jacob Zuma as his deputy in 1999.
Five years later Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka and Baleka Mbete, respectively, took over the role as caretakers.
When Zuma finally took the reins from Mbeki, he was deputised by Kgalema Motlanthe. Motlanthe, another one-term deputy president, was preceded by Ramaphosa.
Its no wonder then that Mashatile, his consigliere and his generals knew it would be futile to pounce too early in Ramaphosa’s term.
After all, history had taught them that to be a deputy president on the first term of a sitting president is political suicide.
David Mabuza missed that history lesson.
It goes without saying that with all these presidents, none, barring Mandela, have ever reached a full term.
With this in mind, Fraser, the suspension of ANC secretary general Ace Magashule and the death of the party’s deputy secretary general, Jessie Duarte, ensured the stars had aligned for Mashatile.
He controlled the ANC’s engine room and, like falling dominos, province after province endorsed him for deputy president.
It’s not difficult to deduce that Mashatile, should he choose to, could be the next ANC president come December.
But what does his presidency mean for the country and, most importantly, for the economy and black business?
When I did research for this column, two things were clear from talking to black and white corporate South Africa. Mashatile was an unknown and Ramaphosa was a big disappointment.
Unlike his predecessors, there is a general feeling that Ramaphosa has done little for corporate SA (albeit for a few extenuating circumstances such as the decline of the economy, state capture and Covid-19). In fact, many fell short of telling me that a second term for Ramaphosa would be catastrophic for business South Africa or, at the very least, black business.
About three of these captains of industry told tales of the no-nonsense Mbeki who took on big business with a narrow mission to establish a black middle class.
We all remember the weekly columns Mbeki would use to champion transformation in a deliberate attempt to challenge institutions such as Sasol and Anglo American.
Mbeki, unlike his successors, was not apologetic about his transformation agenda.
Although one could say that Ramaphosa has an edge over Mashatile (he is a member of the same country clubs business leaders enjoy), it’s also not that difficult to see that the golden boy has fallen flat.
Consultation has been his weakness.
Mashatile presents another chance for business and more certainly black business to find expression in government.
But corporate South Africa is nervous. Mashatile is seen to have an uncomfortable proximity to the “ultra left”. What happens should the ANC and the Economic Freedom Fighters coalesce? Whose policies emerge, they ask?
However, EFF leader Julius Malema has not hesitated to attack Mashatile publicly in the past.
What is clear is black businesses are crying out for help. The ANC-led government seems to be reneging on its solemn promise of economic transformation and localisation. Black economic empowerment legislation is almost 20 years old but not much has been achieved.
Level one companies have not adequately transformed and although there is talk of renewable energy, this next national project lies in the hands of the minority.
Can Mashatile rise to the occasion, much like he did when he led a province that defied Zuma calling for his head? Will he be another lame duck president if he takes his turn at the helm?
These are some of the prevailing questions. I will add these two: Are you the unifier your comrades claim you to be?
Mr Deputy President (or should I say Mr President?) the nation wants to know, who is Paul Shipokosa Mashatile?
Lizeka Tandwa is senior political reporter at the Mail & Guardian.
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