/ 9 June 2000

How Mbeki is hampering the renaissance

Sipho Seepe

CROSSFIRE

We need a more realistic assessment of President Thabo Mbeki to preempt exaggerated expectations and the inevitability of his failing to meet these. It is time to liberate ourselves of the misconceptions we have of the president, and in so doing liberate the president of the misconceptions he may have of himself.

Months before Mbeki took office as president, Professor Wilmot James suggested that Mbeki’s government would require close monitoring with regard to democratic and human rights. James intimated that institutions like his, the Institute for Democratic Alternatives in South Africa, required independence to effect the plurality of opinions necessary to deepen democracy. This perceived slight galvanised the African National Congress’s publicity machinery into action – James was roundly condemned by the organisation’s national working committee. Some went as far as to call for his dismissal.

Unfortunately for James, his comments could not have come at a more inopportune moment as the media was beginning to warm to Mbeki. Having divested itself of a cautious and at times hostile approach to Mbeki, the media had embarked on the exercise of portraying him as an anti- populist intellectual. Mbeki was presented as a businesslike diplomat, studious and a reflective scholar; a suave and urbane democrat and incorruptible. This was a reconciler and pragmatist able to appease and accommodate the communists, the Africanists and the high-flying capitalists. Reference was made to his timely appeal to the African renaissance, a strategy which brought together an omnibus of aspiring black bourgeoisie, black capitalists, black lawyers, journalists, academics – the very group that could become the government’s vocal critics.

Since taking office, a less appealing portrait is beginning to emerge. Political developments project an image of a president with a propensity to accumulate and centralise power; a man who is prepared to sacrifice his comrades to realise his ambitions. Associated with this is an image of a president who is ultra-sensitive, unable to accommodate others and who is impatient with differing opinions. A president who is unable to accept that he could be mistaken, and has conveniently surrounded himself with sycophants.

The first signs of power accumulation and centralisation began with the ANC’s decision to delink the position of the premiers from that of the provincial chair. This gave Mbeki inordinate power and influence over all levels of governance. Through the prerogative of appointing premiers, the president directly influences the composition of the provincial executives. The argument advanced then was that governance demands certain skills, insights and expertise that popularly elected leadership may lack. It was argued that the delinking would also frustrate narrow careerism that had blighted the organisation. Implicit in this arrangement is the notion that whereas “the people” can be trusted with electing the president, such a trust cannot be extended to electing the premiers.

Impressions abound that incumbents were appointed on the basis of their unquestioning loyalty to the president. When the opinion of one premier was canvassed on an intricate matter, he allegedly responded with the suggestion that his thoughts are those of the president, whatever the president’s thoughts are on the matter.

There are many skilled, competent, educated and tried-and-tested cadres in the ANC who could have been selected, but they were overlooked. “Careerism” has not been solved by circumventing the expression of the will of the people, but has instead introduced another form of careerism and praise-singing. It has simply moved influence closer to the throne, and curtailed the public expression of independent thought in the ANC and government. The only time ANC members are quoted in the media is when they agree with or sing the praises of the president. Otherwise they prefer to be quoted anonymously. One may simply refer to the deafening silence that followed Mbeki’s position on HIV/Aids.

The fact that Mbeki was elected the president of the ANC unopposed does not help. While this may well be a tradition of the organisation, this practice can lead to untrammelled confidence where a leader feels no need to accommodate different viewpoints. Overweening confidence can lead to a disregard for opinions of the entire government. When a single person influences all appointments, those who appointed them will inevitably shape the opinions of appointees. History has shown that when enormous power is vested in one person, leaders have often suffered from delusions of grandeur.

A troubling consequence of the president’s apparently blind defence of his appointees is a leniency that renders hollow his commitment to fighting corruption. There was the appointment – even a promotion – of a minister (Minister of Justice and Constitutional Development Penuell Maduna) who had knowingly lied to Parliament and caused the wastage of at least R30-million of taxpayers’ money. Secondly, the defence of Mpumalanga Premier Ndaweni Mahlangu and a virulent attack on those who had on a principled basis opposed his condoning of “political” lies. This defence went so far as to publicly undermine the Public Protector. Lastly, the apparent condonation of the finding of a public commission that a senior member of Parliament had fraudulently obtained a driver’s licence. Each of these cases required decisive action that demonstrated that corruption would not be tolerated. The message sent, however, was that corruption of the inner circle could be overlooked because of historical loyalty.

The fact that the power and authority to dismiss resides with the president means that it does not matter whether the premier or the cabinet minister is competent or not; as long as the incumbent is in the good books of the president, the individual concerned is guaranteed protection. This became glaringly obvious with the retention of some non-performing ministers. The likes of Maduna, Minister of Provincial and Local Government Sydney Mufamadi, Minister of Housing Sanki Mthembi-Mahanyele and Minister of Public Works Stella Sigcau come to mind. Maduna, notwithstanding a series of embarrassments in which he involved himself, was promoted to a senior ministry. Mufamadi failed to instil a sense of duty among the police. Towards the end of his tenure the police morale was extremely low. The less said of Mthembi-Mahanyele and Sigcau the better. The performances of these contrast sharply with the likes of Pallo Jordan and Derek Hanekom, ministers who were removed from office. The axing of independent thinkers like Mathews Phosa fits neatly with Mark Gevisser’s portrait of someone who is insecure — “deposing comrades not because they are corrupt or inefficient, but because they threaten him”.

This insecurity has extensive ramifications that go beyond political appointments. The absence of plurality of opinion, and lack of debates in the country, has not been made easier by the tendency of those in power to resort to mud-slinging and labelling. The ruling party has come up with an effective strategy to discredit those who expose the inanities of its policies, programmes and/or the government’s inability to deliver by labelling them. Labels, such as “counter-revolutionaries”, “peace-time revolutionaries”, “reactionaries” and “charlatans” have become the refuge for the ruling party. Faced with an inability to engage issues intellectually, the representatives have tended to invoke labelling and rubbishing critics with the hope of closing the debates.

The president has also not been innocent in applying this tactic. In his congratulatory speech on the occasion of Dr Mathole Motshekga’s inauguration as Vista University’s chancellor, Mbeki decried the absence of black intelligentsia in public forums and policy debates. Mbeki went further to suggest that the few intellectuals who are there, those promoted by the media, “are an acute embarrassment” to the black majority. Such statements betray the very notion of the African renaissance as they are meant to rubbish and stigmatise every black intellectual who dares to question the dominant or official paradigms and discursive practices in this country.

An African renaissance, or any renaissance for that matter, requires an environment that encourages a flourishing and flowering of ideas. It requires an environment that promotes robust and vibrant intellectual engagements. Robust engagement demands us to rigorously unpack and expose the limitations or bankruptcy of the ideas of those with whom we differ. Simply labelling them does not advance our arguments, it closes a discussion and introduces a culture “where might, power and privilege determine right”. The ANC does not need to counter-attack every criticism. Sometimes it must leave space for debate and the expression of ideas.

Reinforcing the culture of intolerance is the ubiquitous notion that there is “hierarchy of sacrifice and contribution to struggle” and hence the “hierarchy of benefits”. Such a notion fails to appreciate that it is through the active participation of the [nameless] hundreds of thousands of our people that the liberation movements were unbanned and political prisoners released. It has also led some to think they hold a monopoly on revolutionary credentials and copyright to what is in the best interest of the country.

Equally disturbing has been the president’s failure to acknowledge the intellectual contribution of the likes of Stephen Bantu Biko, Mangaliso Sobukwe, Anton Lembede and Zeph Mothopeng. If the African renaissance is to succeed, then its building blocks are to be found in the intellectual contributions made by the likes of Biko and Sobukwe. The president can take a leaf from the likes of Sir Isaac Newton by acknowledging the contributions of those who came before him. Newton said of his contribution “that if I have seen further than the others, it is because I stood on the shoulders of giants”.

Perhaps one of Mbeki’s strong points is his ability to refurbish and repackage old ideas. Most memorable in this regard are his I Am an African and Two Nations speeches, the repackaging of the concept of African renaissance and lately his forays into medical science. The success has been short-lived. While there was much ado following his declaration that Afrikaners are Africans, the ANC and South African Communist Party documents continue to reflect a historical conceptualisation of the subject.

The Two Nations speech, adapted from Benjamin Disraeli’s prototype in his 1845 novel, Sybil: Or, the Two Nations, is a thesis whose appeal to morality is betrayed by the call for expansion of the black capitalist class. The concept of the African renaissance remains opaque and diffuse. If it is to have any worth, the concept must be reclaimed from politicians, most of whom do not derive their standing from the quality of their ideas. For some in government it has become a sacred litany routinely used to conclude speeches – however unrelated it may be to the content. The less said about his recycling of the HIV/Aids debate the better. Suffice to mention that his latest tour to the United States seems to have softened his stance on the matter. The gradual suppression of dissenting views indicates that South Africa could do more with robust intellectual engagement within and outside the ruling party.

Sipho Seepe is the campus principal of the Sebokeng campus of Vista University