It was a simple question to a senior Cabinet member and head of the South African observer mission to the Zimbabwean election: “Why are you ignoring the custom of addressing whether elections were free and fair by only pronouncing on the freeness and being silent on the fairness of the election?”
His response: “I was born in a small town. There we only know the customs of the Dlaminis and cannot speak about the customs of the Radebes.”
That was South African Minister of Labour Membathisi Mdladlana as he turned a serious government assessment of the Zimbabwean elections into a circus.
It was neither the first nor the last of the theatrics Mdladlana engaged in during his report back as head of the South African observer delegation. In fact, it is his customary style and, while affable, he symbolises the coming of the political B-class. Consider the suave articulateness of his predecessor, Tito Mboweni, and the trend is clear. South Africa’s political class is increasingly a second team as the cream of our politicians move into other spheres, be it the private sector or the state agencies and state-owned enterprises.
His Cabinet sister, Manto Tshabalala-Msimang, is another example. She also turns every public appearance into a circus as she extols the virtues of garlic and olive oil and denies the benefits of drug treatment in the battle against HIV/Aids.
Then there’s Parliament, where the soporific sessions display a house now dominated by a B team. Take the African National Congress: its parliamentary team is headed by chief whip Mbulelo Goniwe.
He has hit the headlines not for teaching his team the skills of executive oversight but for accusing the Scorpions of vindictiveness because they dared prosecute MPs fingered in the Travelgate scam.
Threatening to summon the agency to Parliament, he said: “I think it is a planned, desperate kind of act of vengeance to really undermine Parliament.”
Questioned by the Mail & Guardian last year on why he had not declared his business interests, he said: “So what? I’m not going to take this shit of yours any more.”
It is by no means a problem restricted to the ANC. Beyond, Patricia de Lille, can you name one other member of the Independent Democrats, for example?
It is a Parliament bereft of those who in the mid-to late-Nineties seemed poised to make it a site of interesting politics. They included former parliamentary communications portfolio chairperson Ned Kekana (now at Telkom); Vusi Mavimbela (now at Mvelaphanda Investments), former chief whip Nathi Nhleko, who runs his own company, and Raenette Taljaard, once again studying.
In the other spheres of government the trend is similar. Other than Gauteng’s Premier Mbhazima -Shilowa and the astute young Thabang Makwetla in Mpumalanga, the premierships are in the hands of a no-name brand group of politicians.
Political analyst Aubrey Matshiqi says the preponderance of mediocre politicians is unlikely to change as long as the quality of politicians is irrelevant to the outcome of elections.
“If they were directly elected, many such politicians would have been kicked out by voters but now they are protected by the lists and the party.”
But Wits University’s professor of politics, Tom Lodge, says local politicians are no worse than those in other political systems.
“Maybe the perception comes from the fact that the ruling party often puts people who are not very able into positions of power and thereby rewards loyalty more than competence. Parliament does have a fair share of mediocre politicians, but there are many more who are competent,” Lodge says.