The president is at his most powerful in the ANC, but his strategy of playing the long game could work against him. (Photo: Delwyn Verasamy, M&G)
As the great American novelist Scott Fitzgerald once noted, “The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.” This is what is now required of both progressive democrats and a beleaguered South African public alike.
On the one hand, to accept that the ANC is a busted flush and needs to be removed from power as soon as possible. On the other, that Cyril Ramaphosa remains the best bet for the country in the short-term, despite his obvious weaknesses as a leader.
This is the conundrum that was particularly acute during the dramatic final weeks of last year.
On 1 December, a “tired and hurt” Ramaphosa was just hours away from announcing his resignation in one final “family meeting” following the publication of the report by the independent panel on Phala Phala, which found sufficient evidence for the impeachment process to move to its second phase —— a full parliamentary inquiry.
Miraculously, three weeks later Ramaphosa emerged in a substantially more powerful position.
There is debate among those who are close enough to the events that unfolded during the 36 hours that followed the publication of the panel’s report late on 30 November to care, but not quite close enough to really know, as to whether the wily Ramaphosa’s resignation intention was real or just a clever ruse to test and then strengthen the sinews of his supporters.
It was real. There was no bluff; he was intent on taking the easy way out —— a noble falling on his sword. But a group of close insiders, and miscellaneous other people whose expertise the president trusts, persuaded him to think again.
And he did. And then he won —— at the ANC’s national executive committee (NEC); in parliament, where the panel’s report was rejected; and then at the ANC five-yearly national conference at the party’s conference in Nasrec, Johannesburg, Johannesburg, where Ramaphosa emerged not only with an increased majority but with a far more loyal NEC behind him.
Twenty-one Days in December. It would make a good book, or film. But no one is going to write it or make it, because despite the drama, not enough people care enough to want to read or watch it, such is the disillusion and despair in the country.
The single biggest political question last year was, would Ramaphosa win a second term —— as ANC president and, thus, as president of South Africa.
Now we know the answer, although thanks to Phala Phala it was a close run thing; the set-up trick to derail him very nearly worked.
What happened at the end of last year may already seem like irrelevant, ancient history given this country’s propensity for moving on, but it is essential context for understanding what might happen next —— especially when compared with what would have happened had Ramaphosa resigned, been recalled by his own party or lost at Nasrec.
Every other available reasonable scenario without Ramaphosa still in office is worse. This is what was put to Ramaphosa on 1 December: relinquish power now and you will open the gates for the barbarians to storm back in to take the citadel.
Having rescued his presidency from an ignominious end, 2022 ended with a new question hanging in the air: would Ramaphosa seize the moment or would he let it pass, as he has on several occasions since he first won the ANC presidency in December 2017 at Nasrec?
So now the biggest political question for the New Year is: recognising that he is in a more powerful position, will he use his presidential authority in a more decisive and bold manner?
Such is the dismay at the government’s failure to resolve or even mitigate the energy crisis and the severe power cuts that are wreaking havoc on businesses and people’s livelihoods that the single biggest political question of this year may well be of little interest to most people, but could yet be of great importance to the country and its economy.
Any self-respecting governing party faced by the monumental crisis that South Africa confronts now, after almost 30 years in government, would accept that it had failed and resign. The energy crisis alone is justification enough for an early election.
But this is not a self-respecting party. And Ramaphosa knows his duty is to continue, because his country is better off with him at the helm for another 18 months until the general election next year.
Which takes us back to the primary question: will he finally release the handbrake on his presidency now that he has at least partly dismantled the shackles imposed on him by his own party since he came to power four years ago?
The evidence so far would suggest not. Instead of moving swiftly against those in the cabinet who had opposed him during the ANC election contest — blatantly and defiantly in some cases — using the reshuffle to refresh a mainly washed up cabinet, Ramaphosa has, as usual, dilly dallied.
And again, as is so often the case, delay creates further political problems for him. Last weekend, the ANC conducted its usual end-of-January legotla with the current cabinet ministers still in place; in the next few days, the legotla show will move to the actual cabinet itself — to decide whether and how to execute the decisions reached by the ANC.
This makes no sense at all.
Meanwhile, those like Mineral Resources and Energy Minister Gwede Mantashe, who wish to keep their current positions, have campaigned publicly, disingenuously arguing that Ramaphosa must choose in Mantashe’s case between the ANC and white liberals on the question of not only keeping his own job but having.control of Eskom added to his portfolio.
Perhaps this is because Ramaphosa gave up on his cabinet a long time ago. Hence all the appointments of czars for this and that in the Union Buildings. Where he can, Ramaphosa prefers to try to get stuff done through the direct authority of the presidency.
But because he lacks the strategic vision and the political robustness to enforce his policies, his presidency treads through treacle much of the time.
So Ramaphosa seems to have doubled-down on his decision-making modus operandi. Consult, consider, consult again, dither.
Mantashe is the acid test. The energy crisis has complex, deep roots, starting with the prevarication of the Mbeki administrations, whose indecision over whether to privatise Eskom or invest in its infrastructure cost the country a valuable decade — which largely explains the creaking electricity generation infrastructure that keeps breaking down and is unable to meet demand most of the time now.
This was followed by the Zuma decade in which a combination of state capture corruption that hollowed our Eskom’s capacity, and Zuma’s rancid deal with President Vladimir Putin to bring Russian nuclear power in, which stalled one of the rare policy success stories of the past three decades — the treasury-led Renewable Energy Independent Power Producer Programme.
Even despite this, there was an opportunity to grasp the nettle of the essential structural reform, which Ramaphosa wants, but Mantashe obstructs.
If there is one man who, in the past four years, is to blame for the energy crisis it is Mantashe, who has blocked the re-establishment of serious new renewable energy generation. The evidence of these delays is there to see for all those who care to see it.
As Meridian Economics have shown, based on Eskom’s own precise figures of how demand exceeded supply throughout 2021, just a five gigawatt increase in renewable energy would have prevented load-shedding in 2021. The think-tank will soon publish a new report with an essentially identical finding for last year.
This is scandalous. Load-shedding could have been avoided.
Mantashe is unfit for public office. He should go. But he won’t, because Ramaphosa is too much of a coward and too weak a leader to do what great leaders have to do: confront uncomfortable decisions, even if it involves the ruthless removal of political allies.
And so South Africa will have to find a way to thrive despite, rather than because of, its presidents. After all, the rest of the Scott Fitzgerald quotation should not be forgotten:
“One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless yet be determined to make them otherwise.”
Richard Calland is an associate professor in public law at UCT and the co-author, with Mabel Sithole, of The Presidents: From Mandela to Ramaphosa, leadership in the age of crisis, published in November by Penguin RandonHouse.
The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Mail & Guardian.