It was bound to end in tears for Mosiuoa “Terror” Lekota and Mbhazima Shilowa. The writing was on the wall from the start.
It was a marriage of convenience. A partnership based on petulance, dented egos, an incoherent vision and expedience is never a recipe for a lasting relationship or a political party.
Two years since its formation, party hacks would have us believe that the skulduggery of the past week, which saw senior leaders accuse one another of crookery and lying, is nothing more than “healthy debate”. What it is, is a bitter battle for positions and power. Some pundits already predict that it’s tickets for Terror. Others argue that Cope is likely to go the route of Zimbabwe’s MDC and split into smaller Cope-lite factions, the support and following of which would be predicated on the two squabbling spouses.
It was Lekota who left the nation bemused when he announced that he was serving divorce papers on the ANC. Sadly, that phrase has come back to haunt him as it seems it is he who might be on the receiving end of the court summons.
I’m wondering, as Lekota has already been through a painful political divorce, will he have the appetite for another acrimonious parting? Could he bear the harrowing divvying up of once-shared possessions, friends and that disputed booty of R20-million? Does he have what it takes to start that pesky and costly business of changing names and party slogans once again? How cumbersome.
I pose these questions after reading the epic tale of American writer Elizabeth Gilbert’s divorce in her biographical account, Eat, Pray, Love, as well as the sequel, Committed. Gilbert describes how night after night she found herself hiding from her husband, cowering in her bathroom, crouched on the floor, weeping endlessly, because she was deeply unhappy in her marriage. She was desperate to get out of it but she was paralysed about what to do or even how to begin to articulate the words “I want a divorce”.
It’s clear from Gilbert’s account that divorce is ugly, debilitating and not to be trifled with. Not so in the world of politics. A marriage of convenience can just as easily be disentangled the moment you don’t get what you want.
Would either man have been weeping in his bathroom this weekend as commentators predicted their imminent parting? I don’t know but I’d hazard a guess that Shilowa, a known connoisseur of the finer things in life, was crying a river over the sushi and superlative wines he would miss out on after his party summoned him back from his birthday jaunt in Japan to deal with Lekota’s histrionics.
Lekota has now apologised for the claims he made against Shilowa. Perhaps the two are now in counselling trying to sort out their many differences. Let’s look at that apology though. It didn’t come from Lekota himself, it was a terse statement delivered by the party’s secretary general. Not very convincing, is it, given that when Lekota made the allegations against Shilowa last week, it was he who called for a press conference and was there in the flesh to make the announcement. Now when it’s time to make amends, he’s nowhere to be seen.
Second, the apology doesn’t seek to dispute the substance of the claim — that Cope’s books may not be in order and the insinuation that Shilowa may have been remiss in this regard — it simply says that Lekota apologises for having made the claims public. Hmm. I know it is in the nature of politicians to be wily and slippery but this so-called apology gets a big zero for insincerity.
Brings to mind Gordon Brown’s own sorry affair last week, which the British press is now dubbing Bigotgate. The timing couldn’t have been worse for Brown even if the Tories or the Lib Dems had dreamed it up themselves. Being caught unawares berating a voter is the stuff of nightmares for any politician, let alone a week before the elections.
The only sincere moment for me in this sorry saga was when Brown hung his head in shame and covered his eyes when his recorded utterances were played back to him. The rest of the show was just silly, because that’s all it was. A show. Trotting back to the poor woman’s home to try to convince her that you didn’t really mean what you said when you called her a bigot? Please Mr Brown. You’re just sorry you got caught.