South African political life is definitely not boring. Every time I come back to the “rainbow” nation there is a new scandal making headlines, another investigation involving former freedom fighters, police and businessmen and a deep sense of disillusionment among all the people I talk to. It reminds me a lot of the country I come from — Italy, a peninsula that once was the cradle of European culture and is now a haven for organised crime and shameless politicians.
Silvio Berlusconi, the flamboyant Italian prime minister, perfectly embodies the dramatic decadence of the Italian political system. Before entering the political arena, Berlusconi was arguably a successful tycoon and, when he ran for office in April 1994 (South Africa, at that time, was celebrating its first democratic elections), he was heralded as “the man of the people” vis-à-vis an undoubtedly tedious and cerebral political class.
After 16 years on the political scene, Berlusconi has succeeded in turning his personal life and his corruption trials into a political tool. His private escapades have entertained Italians for about a decade and his inclination for singing and dancing at international summits has become notorious in the whole of Europe. Married twice and father of five children, Berlusconi has built for himself the reputation of a “macho” in continual search for beautiful young women. Throughout his political career he has not refrained from forcing his own party to field showgirls as election candidates and reserve top government positions for his personal friends.
From a political perspective, Berlusconi has never tried to hide his uneasiness with that old-fashioned idea of democracy’s checks and balances. Having been elected by “the people”, he has always argued that his power cannot be subjected to any other institution. No surprise, then, that his whole tenure has been marked by recurrent hostility against the judiciary and the media.
Thus far, he has managed to dodge all his corruption trials by approving a series of astonishing laws, which first exempted him from standing trial then shortened the maximum duration of his processes (thereby bringing a number of trials to an abrupt end) and, ultimately, cancelled a number of financial crimes he allegedly committed. He personally attacked judges and described the Constitutional Court as an antidemocratic clique of bureaucrats.
How similar does that sound to South Africa? More than I would have thought just a few years ago. But the similarities do not end here. The most recent initiative by Berlusconi’s government is the so-called “gagging law”, a Bill aimed at preventing investigations into potentially corrupt activities carried out by politicians and their acolytes. If the law is passed, journalists who publish information leaked by state attorneys will be arrested and their newspapers’ editors fined. All agree that this law will most likely inaugurate a new season of self-censorship and generalised fear among journalists. Does this ring a bell? Quite similar to the Protection of Information Bill and the media tribunal currently proposed by ANC cadres, isn’t it?
Just like in Italy, in today’s South Africa there seems to be a growing disrespect for the basic rules of liberal democracy. The more powerful ruling parties are, the less inclined they appear to be to tolerate dissent. Berlusconi commands the largest parliamentary majority in Italy’s history and he personally owns many newspapers and TV stations. Yet his attack on the republican constitution is unprecedented. Similarly, the ANC is wielding enormous power, has secured a vast majority in Parliament and is firmly at the helm of government. Yet, it is increasingly uneasy with the freedom the media enjoys.
What guarantees do we have? Italy is a founding member of the European Union, a leader in the G8 and, for all intents and purposes, a consolidated democracy. South Africa is a young democracy, but with a very good track record in terms of institutional development and constitutional provisions. Yet democratic values are suffering in both countries.
These two cases reveal that no constitutional provision, no check and balance, no separation of power can withstand a concerted assault from a political force if it is not sustained by a strong and aware civil society. Democracy does not stand on its feet by divine intervention. It walks on the legs of its citizens. If citizens give up their sacrosanct right (and duty) to keep power in check, there will be no failsafes when things turn ugly. Democracy comes at a price because it requires constant vigilance and dedication by civil society. South Africans must be on high alert.
Lorenzo Fioramonti is a research fellow at the University of Pretoria, the founder of the first civic initiative aimed at monitoring politicians in Italy (www.openparlamento.it), and the author of European Union Democracy Aid: Supporting Civil Society in Post-Apartheid South Africa (Routledge, 2010)