The initial impression given by President Thabo Mbeki’s new Cabinet is that of sweeping change — but this is altogether deceptive. In the minor portfolios and among the deputy ministers, there is indeed a galaxy of new faces. But in the heavyweight jobs, including finance, defence, safety and security and foreign affairs, Mbeki has plumped for stability or, at most, lateral movement of senior ministers to fill holes. The only clear exception to this pattern is education — where Kader Asmal was a spent force and Naledi Pandor considered unlucky not to get the job in 1999 — and perhaps the demotion of Lindiwe Sisulu from intelligence to housing.
This two-tier approach — caution at the top and a bold infusion of new blood at the bottom — has it advantages. It ensures experience and a continuity of approach in key jurisdictions, while creating a more competitive environment in the executive. Senior ministers will not be unaware of the young, energetic and upwardly mobile breathing down their necks.
That said, it is surprising Mbeki has not taken greater advantage of the electorate’s decisive vote of confidence in his party and leadership. His stubborn retention of ministers like Manto Tshabalala-Msimang and Ivy Matsepe-Casaburri in key socio-economic delivery portfolios was not required to shore up his position in the African National Congress, and looks suspiciously like a wrong-headed reward for yesmanship. In these appointments, and those of Stella Sigcau and Ngconde Balfour, one senses the old, insecure Mbeki who values loyalty above all else, rather than the confident, inclusive second-termer who emerged from the presidential inauguration speech. One might add that the elevation of New National Party leader Marthinus van Schalkwyk — a man of no known political principles and scarcely more political support — reflects the low status accorded to what should be a key portfolio.
Perhaps the major shift underlying the Cabinet selection is the consolidation of a party increasingly unchallenged in its dominance, and Mbeki’s desire to use government jobs to cement the unity of the ANC. The youth is accommodated through the appointment of Youth League leader Malusi Gigiba as a deputy minister; 22 women have been installed as ministers or deputies; and the left has been conciliated through the formal rehabilitation of Pallo Jordan, while Derek Hanekom’s reappointment is meant to symbolise the party’s commitment to non-racialism, a theme of Mbeki’s inauguration speech.
Parallel with this is the dramatic sloughing off of the Inkatha Freedom Party, two of whose lesser lights were offered deputy minister posts while the party’s grandees — most startlingly its president, Mangosuthu Buthelezi — were brutally snubbed. Whether this is a good or a bad thing hardly matters — given the worsening relations between the parties, it was bound to happen as soon as the ANC felt safe. The election campaign bore out the growing conviction that large-scale political violence in KwaZulu-Natal is a thing of the past, and that a strategic coalition in the interests of peace was no longer needed. Also of importance are the demographics of the province, with urban drift steadily weakening the IFP’s rural base. In the end, Buthelezi has paid the price for electoral failure.
Over to you, Madam Minister
It could hardly have happened with more telling timing. The violent upheaval at Wits University erupted last week, before outgoing education minister Kader Asmal had finished packing his bags. It reached crisis levels on Wednesday, while the president was announcing that Naledi Pandor would succeed Asmal. And it simmered down into an uneasy and sullen truce on Wednesday night, before the new minister could move into Sol Plaatje House, rearrange the furniture and open a few windows.
If Pandor had been hoping for a quiet honeymoon period, she should now know differently. The events at Wits possess an alarming significance that resonates beyond that university: they implicate the whole tertiary revolution that Asmal spent much of his tenure getting off the ground.
Three years ago this newspaper diagnosed a disturbing pattern in Asmal’s performance: grandiose launches followed by calamitous crash landings. Our example then was Asmal’s adult literacy initiative, launched with lavish promises in June 2000, but still grounded a full year later.
The whole education revolution faces this risk. Tertiary education is among the most extensive and expensive of the launches, with several huge institutional mergers awkwardly airborne already, and others anxiously checking their systems for take-off in January. Should any of these crash, the cost to the country’s educational and economic future will be counted for decades — and in billions.
But they will crash if a central aim of tertiary restructuring is not met: access. The events at Wits demonstrate that a repugnant two-tier system is developing: quality education for those who can afford it, and oblivion for those who can’t. Racial exclusions of the past are reproducing themselves along class lines. And, given the economic realities of the country, this means that mainly black South Africans will continue to be excluded.
That is a recipe for revolution of a very different kind from the one the government envisages. Over to you, Madam Minister.