The president faces investigations from the South African Revenue Service and the Reserve Bank on top of charges laid by former spy boss Arthur Fraser, himself subject of the Zondo inquiry into state capture and an ally of Jacob Zuma.
It could be his last. So next week’s State of the Nation address (Sona) by President Cyril Ramaphosa had better be a good one.
This time next year the nation could be steeling itself to listen to DD Mabuza or Gwede Mantashe or even Lindiwe Sisulu deliver Sona as the newly elected president.
An abrupt and premature end to his first full term as president is very likely to quickly follow if Ramaphosa fails to secure a second term as ANC president at its five-yearly national elective conference in December. This is the political shadow that hangs over what is already proving to be a turbulent and unpredictable year.
After all, that was the fate that ended the political careers of Ramaphosa’s two successors — Jacob Zuma and Thabo Mbeki — albeit that they were in their second terms as head of state.
So Ramaphosa would be breaking new ground if he was to be deposed after only five years as president — not nearly enough time to execute the ferociously difficult turnaround imperative that his political and economic inheritance bequeathed him.
And therein lies the first, and primary, challenge confronting Ramaphosa and his speechwriters and advisers: how to on the one hand convey a convincing sense of progress in his “reform and rebuild” game plan, while at the same time explaining, on the other hand, that it really is such a confounding mess that he really could not have been expected to have made much headway at this stage and sorely needs more time to complete the job.
If only his frustrated and cynical compatriots had the time and patience to read all 1 380 pages of the two chapters of the Zondo commission report into state capture that have so far been handed to Ramaphosa. Then they would see what a devilishly difficult task he faces, given how deep the racketeering tentacles of the Gupta-led and Zuma-enabled criminal network had dug into state institutions and especially state-owned enterprises.
Then, no doubt, people would be far more sympathetic to his predicament, and probably far more forgiving of the disintegration in public services that surround them — at least in terms of blaming Ramaphosa, provided, of course, that they were willing to see past the small matter of the fact that Ramaphosa was deputy president for the final four years of the nine “wasted years” of the Zuma kleptocracy.
So Ramaphosa’s speech-writing dilemma-within-a-dilemma is whether to even refer to the Zondo commission report at all. The Captain Sensible side to his political character, dominated by prudence and restraint, will caution him to tread carefully. Only two of the three parts of the Zondo report are published. And in terms of criminal liability, the ball is now very much in the court of the National Prosecuting Authority to pick up the investigatory thread that Zondo has so painstakingly laid for it. So the fact that there are as a consequence live investigations pending may lead Ramaphosa to decide not to say too much too soon.
He may even fear that excessive reference to the state capture commission may simply stir up that hornet’s nest that sits within his own broken and toxic party, and that since he has an election to win in ten months’ time, he would be well advised not to make too big a deal of Zondo’s findings so far.
But, perhaps a little voice will be whispering in his ear: “Go on, push the boat out, take a bit of a risk. After all, what have you got to lose? This could be your last Sona …”
Besides, to say nothing would be absurd. The public has paid a great deal of money for this commission, whose report, Ramaphosa himself said on receiving part one, will be a “defining moment” for the country.
The commission was appointed by the president, ex officio. If one is talking about the true “state of the nation”, Zondo’s report shines excruciating light on the culture of impunity, of avarice, of weak institutional safeguards, of flagrant abuse of power, procedural improprieties and grand larceny that have weakened not only trust in government and the democratic state’s legitimacy, but also its ability to serve its people.
Ramaphosa must speak candidly about this. In fact, he should devote a good chunk of his speech to the Zondo report. He must provide the narrative — the storyline — that Zondo has not yet provided because his decision to publish in three parts means that, unusually and unfortunately, the executive summary will only come at the very end and not the beginning of the publication.
Ramaphosa must spell out the consequences — what state capture has done to the government. How it has driven so many talented people away. How it has hollowed out state institutions and distracted them from their constitutional mandate. How much it has cost the fiscus — just how much taxpayers’ money has been looted.
He must express anger on a nation’s behalf. Not the “seen it all before” politician who has, indeed, seen it all before. The one who stood outside a burning parliament last month and appeared to shrug and say, Donald Rumsfeld-like, “stuff happens”.
No. Enough of that unruffled nonchalance. Like Joe Biden after Donald Trump, Ramaphosa’s calm and measured reasonableness in 2018 was the perfect antidote to Zuma’s antics. But four years have gone by and, pandemic or no pandemic, people want a whole lot more. They want to see a bold and decisive leader, one who passionately cares about the deep-set problems that scar South African society.
Like Angela Merkel did during the refugee crisis in Europe in 2015, he must stand up to the xenophobes and take a principled stand. He must extend the hand of friendship to migrants and explain to South Africans why that is the right thing to do.
Anything less will be a betrayal of the values of the Constitution, whose writing-process he chaired, as well as of the ANC of Luthuli, Tambo and Mandela, not to mention the humanitarian legacy of the profoundly missed Archbishop Desmond Tutu.
And then Ramaphosa must do what all leaders must do, however objectively bleak the context: provide grounds for hope.
As I write this, in the background I can hear the dulcet tones of Justice Mbuyiseli Madlanga, as he is interviewed by the Judicial Service Commission for the position of chief justice, the first of four excellent candidates.
The judiciary is in very good hands and in very good shape. It is a beacon of excellence and integrity.
There are grounds for optimism — “reasons to be cheerful”, as the late British singer-songwriter Ian Drury would have put it.
Not everything is broken.
The just transition strategy
Policy-wise there is one substantial cause for optimism. It is the biggest lever for socioeconomic development that seriously addresses underlying structural constraints and threats to South Africa’s longer-term well-being. It is the just energy transition strategy that has emerged over the past two years and which now stands on the threshold of the biggest international climate finance investment in history.
Ramaphosa needs to tell this story — go big on it. But again, to do so Ramaphosa will have to put aside his timid self and be braver, because his most important political ally at the top of the ANC — Gwede Mantashe, the ANC’s chair — is dead opposed to the deal, doubling down in his increasingly irrational defence of coal.
So here’s a Sona storyboard for the president:
“Our democracy was attacked by a racketeering, gangster network that is still at large — that’s what the Zondo commission proves; and last July’s riots show that the threat remains. The parasites continue to infiltrate and cause disruption. They must not win. We are trying to rebuild against these headwinds, rendered more difficult by the economic impact of the Covid pandemic — which is why unemployment is at a record high, and why we will find a way to pay for a basic income grant.
“This is the time to pull together, not apart; the time for solidarity including with our African migrant brothers and sisters. Don’t fall for that nasty nationalist nonsense. Let us take responsibility for our own shit [or words to that effect], and not blame others. We have begun the recovery, but the incline of the mountain we must climb is steep. It will not be easy. But I can see the summit and we have the means to get there, and new economic levers to propel us upwards — such as the just energy transition. Eskom will become the world’s biggest and most dynamic publicly owned renewable energy utility. This is a crisis, but you see, I know how to lead us out of it. And together, we can get there.”
That’s the gritty picture Ramaphosa needs to paint. A story of self-inflicted wounds and resulting disintegration. But also one of resilience, rebuilding and hope.
Things can only get better. As I write those words, I realise why they resonate. It was the theme song by the Irish/English pop group D:Ream for the Labour Party election campaign in 1997. Labour won with a landslide.
Zondo and rebuilding from state capture. Xenophobia and standing together. A sturdier social safety net. Energy transition and recovery. Realism and hope.
These should be the driving tropes of Sona 2022, Mr President. Don’t worry about how it will play in the ANC; forget about December. Lead. Show what you really stand for.
In sporting terms, don’t leave anything in the changing room; play the game like it might be your last. Because, frankly, if you don’t, it may well prove to be just that.