You cannot surf if there is not a wave. This was veteran journalist Tony Heard’s way of explaining to me his apparent success as Kader Asmal’s spin doctor in the 1990s. Unlike the majority of his fellow Cabinet ministers, the late Asmal had made a big impact as minister of water affairs in Nelson Mandela’s government. This was contrary to some expectations; after all, he had hoped to be minister of justice and, as he was happy to admit, knew little about water other than that it was something you occasionally added to your Bushmills.
It was soon common wisdom that Asmal was one of the most effective ministers in the Mandela administration. Given much of the credit for Asmal’s high profile, Heard was probably, at that point, the sharpest spin doctor in the government’s armoury, with President Mandela’s Parks Mankahlana, although the astute Bheki Khumalo was soon to catch up with them.
Typically self-effacing as it was, Heard’s view was that you cannot spin thin air — without Asmal’s willingness to “put himself out there” and take decisions, having grappled readily with the tough policy choices, there would be little or nothing to communicate. The spin would be an empty vessel. In other words, the spin doctor needs decent raw material with which to work.
Heard’s neat little phrase bounced back into my head on hearing the recent news of Mac Maharaj’s appointment as head of presidential communications. The question that arises in the context of his appointment is: Can you spin Zuma? Is there, in fact, anything to spin?
The problem is that Zuma is the spin: the “common man touch”, the geniality, the famed “reconciliatory skills” — these should be the spin-coating attributes used to embellish the serious-minded individual he supposedly is (think Thabo Mbeki). But in Zuma’s case, what does it add up to?
The answer is nothing. It constitutes the lack of substance; it cannot mask it. With the ostentatious added layer of the song-and-dance routine, it is the spin. There is nothing beneath it, not a shred of ideology or theory. Find me a speech or a piece of writing that offers a distinctive exposition of political ideology or theory that is Zuma’s own and not merely a recitation of “ANC policy” and I will buy you a Breitling watch.
So the question for Maharaj must be: What on Earth are you going to communicate? Maybe on foreign policy there is something: an explanation of Zuma’s approach to Libya, for example, or his strategy with regard to the Bric countries (Brazil, Russia, India and China), or Africa’s other powerhouses or emerging giants such as Nigeria, Egypt and Angola. Perhaps there are his thoughts about Zimbabwe, with which Maharaj is well acquainted as a member of the trio appointed by Zuma to handle Robert Mugabe, or even his approach to South Africa’s membership of the United Nations Security Council?
Maharaj could no doubt make a silk purse from a sow’s ear out of this little lot. But, of course, these are precisely the areas of policymaking that least lend themselves to open communication, given the necessary diplomatic felicities. They also yield the least political return, given that the domestic political pressures are concerned not with Muammar Gaddafi, Mugabe or Jonathan Goodwill, but with service delivery, corruption and the political economy of energy policy.
Maharaj must know this. He has been around the block more times than a New York cabbie. So what does he think he can possibly achieve?
Logically, then, it cannot be about spinning Zuma but about spinning the ANC. Or rather, counter-spinning the ANC. The organisation has substance, too much at times, and the problem is that it speaks with far too many voices. Zuma has lost control: the youth league says what it likes and no one steps in to remind it of the need for organisational discipline. The South African Communist Party and Cosatu trade insults. Zuma is apparently powerless to manage these relationships.
If Maharaj is to be of any use whatsoever he will have to be for Zuma what old bruiser Bernard Ingham was to Margaret Thatcher, Joe Haines was to Harold Wilson and Alastair Campbell was to Tony Blair: an internal enforcer.
In other words, an old-style press secretary. At 76, Maharaj is, in any case, hardly the image of the modern communications man or woman, bustling urgently along corridors of power with BlackBerry in hand and pager buzzing insistently on the belt.
Understandably, the mythologies of the great spin doctors — even South Africa’s — has focused on their ability to impose a strong and clear message on the media. But this neglects the fact that a key part of the effectiveness of Haines, Ingram and Campbell was their ability to instil discipline on both government ministers and other parts of the Tory and Labour parties, respectively.
Everything went through them and what evaded them either did not matter or earned their immediate fury and sanction.
Haines, Ingham and Campbell had the full, unconditional support of their political masters: when they spoke or enforced they did so with the full authority and raw power of the prime minister. And people — in the press, the party and the government – knew as much. They evoked fear as well as respect.
Will Maharaj get Zuma’s full backing and will it be sufficient to enable him to take control of the message and, in the case of Julius Malema et al, the messenger, by grabbing it by the scruff of the neck?
Maharaj commands immediate respect, at least among the media. He is regarded as a throwback to a bygone age — a relic, almost, of a generation of ANC leaders that is all but lost to us. Perhaps, then, he must be that generation’s voice at the very heart of government.
But another question lingers: Is he there to represent Zuma or to keep an eye on him? Is he a placeman for the spook community as a whole or for a part of it — most obviously the part that includes Moe Shaik and a faction of the ANC that is rapidly losing confidence in Zuma’s ability to hold the centre and not cede ground to an emergent and apparently viral ANC right wing?
Even more plausibly, the appointment may be a desperate attempt to counteract the hopelessly compromised Jimmy Manyi, someone who bizarrely thinks that it is acceptable and appropriate to head the government’s communication service while also leading a business lobby such as the Black Management Forum.
Whichever it is, Maharaj has accepted a tough assignment. Good luck, Mac. Even with the gravitas that your boss lacks, you will need it. For the horse has quite probably already bolted.