For more than a year the Scorpions kept their investigation of Deputy President Jacob Zuma a tightly controlled secret. When, in November last year, I finally managed to lay my hands on court papers I had been seeking, I was unaware just how explosive they would be.
I had no idea that they would implicate the second-most powerful man in the country in an investigation so sensitive that even in a secret ”in camera” hearing he would be referred to only as ”Mr X” and described simply as a ”high government official”. The documents I was seeking had been in existence since August 2001, when they had been used to obtain a search warrant from a Durban High Court judge. That hearing was held in secret and the affidavit and documents that were presented to the judge were ordered to be kept from public access.
The warrant was granted and allowed the Scorpions to raid the offices and home of Schabir Shaik on October 9 2001. On the same day simultaneous raids were conducted on the premises of French military contractor Thales in Mauritius, France and Turkey.
Shaik was already a focus of questions about the arms deal, given that his brother Chippy was the chief of defence acquisitions and that he and his partners, Thales, were part of the winning German Frigate Consortium.
Schabir’s close relationship with Zuma was also known, but this had not been regarded as significant, given that Zuma was not in the national Cabinet when the key decisions were taken to select the preferred arms deal bidders.
After the raids, journalists tried to winkle out what exactly had prompted them — and what had been found. I established little except that permission to conduct the raids had been obtained by means of a detailed document that set out the main thrust of the investigation. The thing was to get hold of that document.
Some digging turned up the date and file number of the application to the Durban High Court. I tried schmoozing my way past the ladies in charge of the filing system at the court, but failed.
I established that the application had been heard by an acting judge who was now back at the Bar. Perhaps he could be persuaded to drop a hint or two on a strictly confidential basis? He too sent me packing. I turned my attention overseas.
I tried contacting several French newspapers to solicit their help. No one, it seemed, was particularly interested in an arms scandal in Africa.
I also tried Mauritius. After drawing several blanks, I finally located a journalist at Le Mauricien, Eric Brelu-Brelu, who seemed interested and prepared to try to find out if the documents were available.
After some months he finally indicated that he had found the documents, but that he now had to leave the island to undergo urgent medical treatment. A colleague had been provided with my details and would courier the documents to me. I waited and waited. Nothing ever came.
Something similar appeared to have struck the Scorpions at an earlier stage. Their application to the French judicial authorities disappeared out of the South African diplomatic bag en route to our embassy in Paris. It seems those covertly watching over this investigation knew long ago that Zuma was in the firing line.
In November 2002 a Mail and Guardian colleague provided the tip-off that brought a breakthrough. This colleague had heard that Shaik had launched his own high court application to contest the validity of the original search warrant and that this might throw up the required documents. After some phone calls I managed to establish the case number. As nonchalantly as possible I went down to the court to order the file. Yes it was available, the clerk told me. Come back tomorrow. I was terrified that our interest in this case would slip out and the file would disappear or be restricted.
I returned the next day and retrieved the file. There, attached to Shaik’s application, was the original Scorpions documentation, setting out their suspicions about ”Mr X”. It was crystal clear that Mr X was Deputy President Jacob Zuma. The rest is history.
