EFF members attempt to run on stage moments before President Cyril Ramaphosa delivered his state of the nation address. (Dwayne Senior/Bloomberg via Getty Images)
If the State of the Nation address were measured strictly on presentation, President Cyril Ramaphosa would get full marks. After a 45-minute delay, he resumed his speech enthusiastically and remained so throughout. It’s commendable that Ramaphosa didn’t show a sign of irritation, during what was a thoroughly annoying moment.
Annoying as it was to some, what we saw and heard onThursday night was an honest display of the state of our nation. The Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) and the Democratic Alliance (DA) did not behave out of character nor say anything unexpected.
Theatrics, intended to dramatise defiance, is part of EFF politics. That’s why the party’s president, Julius Malema, is one of the most recognisable faces in the country, and possibly throughout the continent.
The impact of antics, however, depends on the moment, for they feed off disillusionment. They elicit applause if the subject of their antics is a notorious figure who may seem somewhat untouchable. Their embarrassment of the resented and feared figure comes across as courage, elevating them to some heroic status.
Jacob Zuma was a perfect target for the EFF. In calling Zuma to account, the EFF was doing what parliament and the ANC were failing to do. They were doing what most decent South Africans wished could be done. For standing up for the public, the EFF got support even from individuals that would ordinarily not vote for them. These are voters who would generally be turned off by Malema’s vitriol, but were more than happy in the 2014 election to send his party back to continue heaping the misery on Zuma.
Today, that tactical voter of 2014, is unlikely to find the EFF appealing. They have the wrong target, and the mood doesn’t quite agree. Ramaphosa is highly deferential, if not contrite. On the surfacing of the Phala-Phala saga, he quickly submitted to the law enforcement agencies, and never said anything hostile against the investigation.
That he even suggested resigning was a sign of contrition. To hound him on the stage, over something under investigation and before courts, can’t possibly count in EFF’s favour. That would have been warranted if they were dealing with a hostile figure, but Ramaphosa has been quite the opposite — submissive and contrite.
Their antics made them come across as bullies and uncouth. That is why the party appeals primarily to voters that are bitter and disillusioned with the system. This is a limited constituency, which explains the party’s relative lack of growth. Because they don’t believe that the system will ever work for them, these kinds of voters are not enthusiastic about voting. Why bother, they ask themselves.
John Steenhuisen, the DA leader, also misread the moment. Steenhuisen objected to the police entering the house before they were called by the speaker.
Addressing the matter directly, Nosiziwe Maphisa-Nqakula, appears to suggest that the volatility of the moment, EFF MPs swamping the podium, was a sufficient trigger for the police to enter the house. Protecting the president, at that moment, trumped any other consideration.
Steenhuisen stood on a technicality, about which it wasn’t even clear if he was correct. Not only did his objection make him seem opportunistic, it lacked empathy. When the police jumped up to shield the president from what looked like a potential attack, was his questioning whether they had permission to do so the best reaction from the leader of the official opposition?
Ramaphosa read the state of the nation correctly.
“We gather here at a time of crisis,” he noted early on in his remarks. The crisis is energy shortage, and his address was predominantly about that. Of the initiatives that Ramaphosa announced, two are noteworthy for our purpose here — state of energy disaster and minister of electricity.
Opinion is divided over the need for the declaration of the state of disaster. Though divided, hardly anyone doubts the severity of the damage power shortages have inflicted on our economy. It’s a common, sad story and almost the only thing people talk about.
People are equally unanimous that drastic measures must be done urgently. That’s how far the consensus goes. Disagreement sets in over whether this government can be trusted to implement the emergency measures honestly. This is because emergency measures will include procurement. Massive fraud happened the last time procurement was allowed to deviate from normal processes.
All the thievery that happened during Covid-19 is still fresh in people’s memory. They get unsettled at the thought of officials given carte blanche to make purchases, however critical these are.
This government simply lacks credibility. This is what happens when people don’t trust their government. They must earn back the trust. How these emergency measures are pursued is critical not only to address this crisis, but also to win back the trust of the public. Transparency and the involvement of the auditor general, to monitor expenditure as it happens, are some of the important steps that must be taken.
While emergency measures are undertaken, multiple other projects seem to be happening simultaneously. This suggested that the president has finally got this problem figured out, he’s on top of it.
Just as one was becoming optimistic, he announced that he’ll create a new ministry of electricity — a whole minister solely responsible for electricity. It’s not as if the government doesn’t have portfolios dedicated to electricity. Gwede Mantashe and Pravin Gordhan — at energy and mineral resources, and public enterprise — do exactly that.
In making what is supposed to be a solution, Ramaphosa has actually conceded to a problem — battles over turf.
The two ministers are clearly not getting along. Mantashe still thinks “coal is king”, while Gordhan’s detractors deride him for being too eager to transition towards renewables.
Both are strong-willed, and seem unwilling to concede to the other. Clearly, the president, who’s supposed to be their boss, can’t force them to work together. He has given up on them cooperating. That’s why he’ll appoint someone else, whom he thinks will speed up the reforms.
Appointing a minister of electricity offers limited relief. The public is assured of someone who’ll constantly be looking at the electricity problem. Fixing the problem, however, requires getting cooperation from Mantashe and Gordhan. If these men weren’t listening to him, what makes Ramaphosa think they’ll listen to his emissary?
This may just be a false solution. A permanent solution here, as it has been suggested, is to have one ministry responsible for everything related to energy. That’s possibly what Ramaphosa has in mind with the restructuring of government, but such changes take long to settle and bear results.
At the same time, Ramaphosa can’t have the status quo persist — feuding ministers delaying progress. So he’s hoping that they’ll listen to his proxy minister. It will also help if the new appointee carries some gravitas and is forceful. Both Mantashe and Gordhan feel quite strong about being senior.
The crisis has correctly forced the government into genuine corrective actions. Ports and rail are also receiving urgent attention. Private firms have been brought in where public officials have clearly failed. This is a partnership that not only requires regulations, but enforcement to ensure that these facilities are utilised properly for the public good.
The thing about crises, though, is that they can also force one to be myopic, focusing simply on what is in front of you. Lifting up the head, to have a bird’s eye-view, feels risky as if one might just lose control of the immediate problem. In the same speech, for instance, Ramaphosa highlighted the incredible progress the country is making in matriculation pass rates. He didn’t make mention, though, of building new universities. There aren’t enough.
Just the University of Johannesburg alone, one of the leading institutions in the country, received more than 300 000 applications for its 10 504 spots. Most of the applications that will be turned down meet the requirements. The university can only accept a certain number of students. What happens to other deserving students who can’t find a place to learn?
Overall, this energy crisis, strangely, has been good. It has awoken officialdom from its slumber. The challenge will be to sustain the urgency and redirect it to other sectors of economy. How we do that is something to ponder!
The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Mail & Guardian.