The former judge blunders on as he always has
Comment
Richard Calland
Pricking the political mythology of contemporary South Africa is a precarious but nonetheless necessary pursuit. Take former Judge Willem Heath. Having conducted a persistent though ultimately self-corroding campaign to depict himself as the corruption-busting saviour of the new South Africa in the public sector, Heath appears to be approaching his new career in the private sector with equal gusto.
That he is doing so with a similar degree of clumsiness will not surprise those of us who regarded his earlier career as the head of the Special Investigating Unit (SIU) as more Don Quixote than Superman.
Few governments could have tolerated his hubris and hyperbole. As he blundered about trying to play politics, Heath played into the hands of the many powerful men and women in government who wished to cut down what they had created.
He was clumsy as well as arrogant. Clumsy with the sensibilities of the politicians, clumsy with the media and, if the Henning Report that recently evaluated the performance of the SIU is to be believed, clumsy with its planning and management.
Why this much-delayed post-mortem of Heath Mark I? Because Heath Mark II, private sector Heath, is now upon us. And judging by his first performance, The Return of Heath is going to be no less a clumsy controversial movie than its predecessor.
The front page of his report into the street-renaming scandal surrounding the City of Cape Town is headed “Heath Specialist Consultants”, alongside a logo that appears to be some sort of a vulture poised to swoop on unsuspecting prey far below. It’s a pretty good motif for Heath’s recent career. But while Vulture Heath’s plucking of mayor Peter Marais was a formidable achievement, there was, to use that disgusting Nato euphemism, “collateral” damage.
That the collateral damage was in this case the very whistleblower without whom Marais and his cronies’ contempt for the citizens of Cape Town would not have been revealed, is especially outrageous. Thus is the name of Victoria Johnson added to the long list of whistleblowers left wondering whether it was worth risking career and perhaps more on making what a recently passed law, the Protected Disclosures Act, recognises as a “protected disclosure”.
The Act will provide Johnson with legal remedies, such as compensation if she subsequently suffers an “occupational detriment” like harassment or non-promotion. But it could not save her from Heath or, and I will come to him, Tony Leon.
Heath’s report goes out of its way to malign Johnson in a wholly unexpected manner. “We were not impressed with her evidence in many respects at the public hearing save to the extent that her evidence was confirmed and corroborated by other witnesses.”
The failure to list in what respects the evidence was ‘”unimpressive”, as is usual in a judgement and was largely the case with other witnesses, means that the statement amounts to “the witness was untruthful except when she was truthful”.
Although Heath notes that the attitude of the mayor and the then-head of the legal department (Johnson’s boss, Ben Kieser) was “not conducive” to whistleblowing, he misses the opportunity to give credit to Johnson for the courageous role she played. If societal attitudes towards whistleblowers are to change, they must be nourished and protected wherever they may sprout.
Heath’s “judgement” also records the cause of Johnson’s other reason for an enduring sense of betrayal, yet omits to condemn it. He accepts her evidence that she gave an affidavit to Belinda Walker, the Democratic Party deputy mayor of Cape Town, on condition that it remained confidential. Walker later asked if she could show it to her political master, Leon. Johnson, eliciting the same undertaking, agreed. Overexcited and apparently mesmerised at the wonderful opportunity that had landed in his lap to achieve two things at one stroke appear tough on corruption and damage or destroy the troublesomely mercurial Marais Leon chose to trample over the rights and interests of the whistleblower.
Why does Heath not condemn this reprehensible conduct by Leon? Only he can answer that. Of course it’s not that Leon was the person behind the hiring of Heath. Of course not. It’s got absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Heath now has to compete in the private sector. Of course not. And I am certainly not suggesting that Heath is now a hired gun. Of course not.
Heath has launched a political missile. Marais is wounded. The philosophical discomfort of the Democratic Alliance’s marriage of convenience is now unravelling. At its heart there is a stark contrast in political culture between the DP and the old Nats. Beneath the heart, in the deep recesses of the political belly, so to speak, is good old-fashioned snobbery.
The DP liberals of the southern suburbs can’t really stomach to extend the metaphor Marais’s crude though effective brand of politics.
It’s a dangerous political strategy; an opposition party has to be able to demonstrate to the electorate that it is capable of government. Around the world opposition parties look for places like Cape Town where they can build a “model” alternative government. Temporarily, perhaps, that edifice is in ruins.
Who will gain in the longer term remains to be seen. As usual, the rumour is quick to spread: Marais is talking to the African National Congress. Could the ANC really embrace him within its ever-broader church? While the Western Cape ANC is enjoying a rare moment in the political sunshine, it too may soon face tough choices.
Richard Calland is a programme manager for the political information and monitoring service at Idasa