There can be no doubt that the sanctions recommended by Parliament’s ethics committee on Minister of Defence Mosiuoa Lekota — a written reprimand by the speaker and a week’s forfeiture of salary — are a symbolic milestone.
Assuming Parliament accepts the recommendations, which is likely, it will be the first time that a Cabinet minister has been disciplined in terms of the parliamentary code of conduct for failing to disclose business interests. In sharp contrast with its heel-dragging over former African National Congress chief whip Tony Yengeni, the committee met promptly and took action. It must have been a humbling experience for a minister of state to plead his case before MPs, including those of his own party, and to absent himself while the committee considered whether and how to sanction him. Lekota’s undeclared interests in a fuel company and several wineries were revealed only a week ago by the Mail & Guardian.
That said, there are aspects of the saga that leave grounds for concern. The committee hearing was closed, meaning that the public cannot evaluate its finding that Lekota negligently, rather than wilfully, concealed information from Parliament.
Given the rumpus over non-disclosure by Yengeni and Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, it seems odd that Lekota’s own omission did not occur to him.
And while Lekota confessed all when the M&G confronted him last week, there have since been attempts to suggest that there have been inaccuracies in the coverage of the story. And on Thursday Lekota thanked the committee for allowing him “to submit evidence of what the real situation is”. If we have failed to give a true picture, as he suggests, he has a duty to explain this “real situation” to the nation.
He violated the nation’s trust and he has a responsibility to restore it. It is imperative that holders of political office treat the Constitution, its attendant structures and strictures with seriousness.
But perhaps the major concern is the lightness of the penalty recommended by the committee. The reprimand is a written one, rather than a verbal rebuke before the House of the kind imposed on Madikizela-Mandela. And though it is true the committee currently has limited powers of sanction, it can impose a fine of a month’s salary and a 15-day suspension from Parliament.
Lekota has a reputation for honesty and straight dealing. But in this case, he has not only breached the parliamentary code. He has also contravened the Executive Members Act, which prohibits members of the national and provincial cabinets from exposing themselves to conflicts of interest. These measures are regularly touted as evidence of the government’s commitment to transparency and determination to root out corruption. If breaches are treated lightly, MPs and ministers will continue to take the casual view that disclosure is optional.
Two further issues should be highlighted. The ethics committee clearly needs enhanced powers of sanction and a proper secretariat to police disclosure. It is about time that the endlessly delayed Powers and Privileges of Parliament Bill, which provides for harsher penalties, became law.
In addition, policing of the Executive Members Act is by the public protector, who investigates breaches and makes recommendations following a complaint by the president or any MP. Opposition MPs have threatened to refer the Lekota matter. It would be a significant statement of the government’s anti-corruption resolve if President Thabo Mbeki pre-empted them.
Rascals and nincompoops
It is probably fortunate for South Africa’s prospects of hosting the 2010 World Cup that the chaos surrounding the selection of the Bafana Bafana team to face England happened so early in the bidding process.
For, amid the excitement about David Beckham meeting Madiba and the general goodwill surrounding the match, South African football officials got off lightly this time in the world media. Another cock-up of the same order could have more serious implications — and effectively hand the tournament to a rival bidder.
South Africans have rallied behind Shakes Mashaba — demoted for one game for not choosing a team deemed suitable by the bid committee — but the issue goes further than the shabby treatment of the coach.
South African soccer is run by a handful of rascals and nincompoops whose influence extends through all levels of the game, from premier league clubs to the national team. This arrangement might be acceptable in domestic football, but it will not survive scrutiny in the international sphere. The scandal that surrounded last year’s Salt Lake City Olympics underlines that all bid officials must be beyond reproach. And soccer’s governing body, Fifa, still reeling from the collapse of its marketing partner, is unlikely to hand its showpiece to a country where the organisers are not singing from the same song sheet.
Minister of Sport and Recreation Ngconde Balfour must step in to ensure that the role of the bid committee and its officials is clearly defined, and that none of those officials has any skeletons in the closet.
The World Cup is to be rotated among the continents, so if we do not host 2010, our next opportunity is a generation away. Let’s not blow this chance.