John Steenhuisen flatly told President Cyril Ramaphosa that his caucus would not support tax hikes. (GCIS)
There was a distinct lack of political pageantry when it was revealed that a consensus had been reached on the National Health Insurance (NHI) this week.
President Cyril Ramaphosa and friendly foe John Steenhuisen can work together after all. Behind the bitter press conferences, buried beneath the combative media headlines, realpolitik was at work, crafting the unsexy details of governance.
Readers will know that maturity has been a key theme in Mail & Guardian editorials in the coalition era. We have spoken about South Africa’s capacity for greatness when we set aside petty party sniping.
The NHI may well become an example of that.
The Expropriation Act is its antithesis. Across the political spectrum, reaction to its signing last month outstripped its benign practical implications. To be fair to the Democratic Alliance, it has since shifted its view on the new law. But others remain steadfast.
Most legal minds coalesce on the idea that the Act offers no new “danger” that is not already enshrined in law. At the very least there is no evidence to suggest that our courts will be any less robust in dealing with political meddling than they have previously been.
And yet South Africa awoke on Monday morning to threats from the most powerful man on Earth — or so he would like to think he is — suggesting that the nation could be punished for targeting a specific group of people.
We can safely assume that US President Donald Trump has no special interest in the intricacies of our legislation. His protocol is to cling to a narrative and ride it until he is red in the face. It’s an effective strategy that has earned him two terms in the White House
The narratives about land are some of the most pernicious in this country. Like a Molotov cocktail laced with oil, they are tossed with reckless abandon and stick to their target; left to rage long after fact and common sense have been burned up. They reached American shores some time ago and found fertile ground to sprout into ugly, conspiratorial paranoia.
This week they came home. We have opened the door to an American leviathan that has long since lost its soul to a polarised philosophy, where “good” and “bad” are simple concepts. As we report on pages 4 to 7, the consequences could be disastrous.
We live in a democracy where criticism of government actions is not only allowed, but is encouraged. However, time and again we watch as politicians disingenuously misrepresent the issues in front of them, stuffing them through the narrow, square pegs of their agenda.
Anyone who has followed the news over the past two weeks has a good idea of what we’re talking about. We won’t even name them out of respect for the political ideal we’d like to see.
We just ask that they do better.