A week is a long, long time

There’s an old saying, that a week is a long time in politics. Tell me about it! What a week it’s been — in politics and in finance. I went on a short trip to Europe, and by the time I got back to South Africa, everything had changed: in politics in South Africa, and in finance around the world.

In South Africa, Jacob Zuma’s court case had been thrown out, and Thabo Mbeki had been forced to resign.

I saw headlines about the Zuma case while I was in London — and of course I immediately turned to the Internet to get all the details. How strange — the Zuma faction had been making all sorts of noises about how the judiciary was counter-revolutionary and could not be trusted — and how they were praising the judge for ruling in their favour. Not only that, but the judge had apparently agreed with the argument that there was a conspiracy against Zuma.

A friend who’s a former banker in London pulled out the Financial Times — there was Zuma, right on the front page, dancing his victory dance, and singing his favourite song, “bring me my machine gun.” “This is not good for South Africa,” said my friend. “This newspaper is read by all the bankers and financial investors. How do you think they will react to see the next president of South Africa singing such a warlike song?”

The judgment in the Zuma case motivated and empowered his supporters to move against Thabo Mbeki, gathering enough support within the ANC’s top structures to force him to resign. Sad for Mbeki, and shocking for South Africa, but overall a good sign for democracy.

I’m not happy that Zuma’s now a shoe-in as president. But the axing of party leaders and the downfall of prime ministers and presidents is what happens all the time in working democracies. Similar scenes have played out in Britain many times, for example — Margaret Thatcher was ousted in a similar way, and at the moment Prime Minister Gordon Brown faces a growing challenge to his leadership.

I missed Thabo Mbeki’s resignation speech, as I was on the plane to Entebbe, but here in Uganda people are commenting about how impressive it is that Mbeki bowed to the will of his party, and resigned. Mbeki may have had many failings as a president, but his stepping down gracefully has to be commended. What a contrast to the likes of Mugabe in Zimbabwe, Kibaki in Kenya, and Uganda’s own Museveni, who’s been in office forever.

In the world of finance, too the ground has shifted. Two sundays ago, I was with some friends in the City of London, the financial district — we walked past the Lehman Brothers building — an imposing skyscraper, looking down on the street with its darkened glass façade. How confident, stable and arrogant it looked. The next day, Lehman Brothers, one of the oldest banks in America, was bankrupt — and almost all of the employees in that huge building out of a job.

Sometimes, when my life as a freelancer seems insecure and risky, I wonder whether I should have gone for a more stable, secure job — something in government, or banking maybe. So much for that — the events of the past week or two serve as a powerful lesson — in life, nothing is certain, there are never any guarantees.

First published on Citizen Journalism in Africa on 23rd September 08

In support of Zapiro

At present there’s quite a heated debate going on in South Africa over a cartoon that appeared in the Sunday Times last Sunday.  The cartoon depicts Jacob Zuma, the president of the ANC and the man most likely to be the next president of South Africa. Zuma is seen undoing his trousers, while people representing the ANC, SACP, Cosatu and the ANC Youth League are holding down a woman, representing the justice system. The men are urging Zuma to rape the woman.

The cartoon has led to an outcry, with a range of views being expressed in  blogs and letters, and calls to radio stations. Some people have called for Zapiro, probably South Africa’s most famous and respected political cartoonist, to be fired. Some of these critics have objected to the implied reference to Zuma’s trial for rape, saying this is unfair, since he was found not guilty. Others have objected to the rape imagery, saying either that it makes light of rape, or that it is insensitive given the high levels of rape in South Africa.

Some of Zapiro’s critics have likened the cartoonist to David Bullard, a columnist for the Sunday Times who was fired a few months back, after a column of his which praised colonialism and made some disparaging remarks about Africans.

I’m not a knee-jerk supporter of the Sunday Times or of any criticism of public figures — I think the standard of journalism at the Times has been dropping.  Over the last month in particular, it has carried a couple of front page stories, making serious allegations and splashed with enormous banner headlines, that seem to have been poorly sourced and researched. But I do think the Zapiro cartoon can be defended.

Firstly, I think that the critics misunderstand the nature of metaphor, and of political cartoons. Zapiro is not depicting a literal rape. The cartoon uses the shocking, awful, violence and violation of rape as a metaphor — to comment on what it is that Zuma and his supporters are busy doing to the rule of law in South Africa. Secondly, the cartoon doesn’t make light of rape. Just because it’s called a ‘cartoon’, doesn’t mean it is trivialising things or trying to be funny. Its message is very serious.

I certainly don’t think the comparison to David Bullard is fair. Bullard’s remarks were racist, attributing negative qualities to an entire group of people. Zapiro’s cartoon crticisises specific public figures and organisations, for specific actions. That criticism might be overly harsh, but it’s not racist, and so does not overstep the boundaries of free speech in my view.

Yes, Zapiro’s cartoon is very shocking. It elicits a visceral response – it’s like a kick in the stomach. But let’s just think about the situation it’s referring to. Supporters of Jacob Zuma have lately been making some very disturbing comments about the judiciary. Some have gone so far as to call our top judges — judges with impeccable credentials — ‘counter-revolutionary’.

These comments, which are being repeated over and over again, are steadily undermining faith in, and respect for, our judicial system and thus for the rule of law. The rule of law is the bedrock of democracy. If that goes, society descends into chaos or tyranny. It is very dangerous territory that Zuma’s backers have dragged us into, and that I find that infinitely more worrying and disturbing than this cartoon.

First published on Citizen Journalism in Africa on Sept 10, 2008

Undermining the rule of law

I’m hopping mad.

Zacob Zuma, the man who is likely to be South Africa’s next president, is in court today, to try and ward off a corruption case against him. It’s the latest in a long series of court appearances, as Zuma’s lawyers try every tactic to avoid or postpone his corruption trial.

That’s not why I’m mad. I’m mad about the stance that Zuma’s party, the ANC, is taking on the case. The front page headline on Business Day today, one of the biggest dailies here, is “ANC fears ‘mobilisation’ of judges against Zuma” (see www.businessday.co.za/articles/frontpage.aspx?ID=BD4A815022). The Argus, Cape Town’s afternoon paper, carries the headline, “Zuma slips into court”, with a sub heading, “Trial smacks of apartheid, charges ANC.” The article carries a quote from the ANC’s spokersperson, saying “this trial smacks of apartheid… when if you told a story often enough, it became fact.”

The statement that this trial smacks of apartheid is laughable. This is 14 years after the end of apartheid. The National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) is an institution of the new South Africa, staffed with professionals from all racial and ethnic groups. There may be some old, apartheid-era judges left on the benches, but the judiciary has been dramatically transformed since 1994 — most of our top judges are black, many are women, and many of them have a solid record of involvement in the struggle against apartheid.

Furthermore, the assertion that the case amounts to nothing more than the repetition of a fabrication, is blatant nonsense. Zuma has already been shown to be corrupt. Because this happened during the trial of somebody else — Schabir Shaik — Zuma and his supporters can assert that he hasn’t been found guilty. While that may be technically true, the fact remains that a court has already established that Zuma took money from Shaik as part of a corrupt relationship. The NPA has boxes and boxes of documents and extensive forensic audits, to back up its case. I’m not saying that this in itself means Zuma must be convicted, but clearly there is substance to the case — substance worth serious consideration by a court. It’s not just based on rumour.

The ANC is the ruling party. It has an overwhelming majority in Parliament, has ‘deployed’ its members throughout state institutions, and has implemented a long-running programme of transformation. Yet the language it uses is from the past, as if it were still the outsider, struggling against an unjust regime. The language is the language of war, and political intrigue, plots and conspiracies. Judges who rule against Zuma are accused of being ‘counter-revolutionary’.

This is very, very dangerous stuff. It’s one thing to say, let Zuma have his day in court. It’s another to then begin a campaign to discredit the entire judiciary and prosecutorial system. The idea is that even if Zuma goes to trial and is found guilty, the verdict will not be accepted, as the courts will be seen to be suspect.

The ANC, which has considerable power in South Africa, is playing the victim and setting up imaginary enemies, in order to try to save its chosen leader, Zuma. In the process the party is prepared to  undermine public confidence in institutions vital to our democracy. The outcome of this can only be bad. A democracy must be based on the rule of law and if faith in that law, and in the institutions that uphold it, is undermined, the very foundations of our democracy will begin to crumble.

And all of this not in defence of a principle, or of human rights, but of one deeply flawed man. It’s shameful and disgusting.

This post first appeared on the Citizen Journalism in Africa site: www.citizenjournalismafrica.org on 4 August 2008.

Killing for Zuma

A lot has already been said and written about this in the South African media, but I think it’s important enough for me to add my two-cents’ worth.

On Youth Day, June 16th, Julius Malema, the leader of the ANC Youth League, said at public rally that the youth were prepared to kill for Jacob Zuma — the ANC President and likely next president of South Africa. Zuma himself, who stood up to speak at the same meeting shortyl after Malema, did not publicly rebuke him at the time (though in the subsequent furore he has since criticised the remark).

In the outcry and outrage that followed this remark, Zuma at first defended Malema, and Malema himself refused to apologise, saying he didn’t mean the words literally. Then a few days later, Zwelinzima Vavi, the head of the giant trade union federation, Cosatu, said the organisation’s members would be willing to sacrifice their lives for Zuma.

I am heartened by the widespread outcry over this and the fact that South Africa’s Human Rights Commission has threatened legal action against both Vavi and Malema unless they retract their statements. But I’m deeply, deeply disturbed that the two men do not seem particularly sorry for what they said, and have tried to explain away their remarks, rather than retract them. But whether or not there are retractions and apologies, I’m disturbed that such thing were said at all.

I’m disturbed because I see in this kind of language, strong echoes of the kind of language used by Robert Mugabe. What Zuma and his supporters have in common with Mugabe is that they combine religious references, with a strong sense of menace and threat. Mugabe says only God can remove him from office, for example, while Zuma says the ANC will rule until Jesus returns.

Now, lest I am misunderstood, I’m not saying that Zuma, Malema and Vavi are like Mugabe in anything but their language. Yet. But that ‘yet’ is the crucial word. I am deeply disturbed my these recent statements because they illustrate a way of thinking — an elevation of people and personalities above principle and performance, and a sense that might is right — that they, as leaders, have been placed where they are by God — that they have a divine right to lead, no matter what.

This is deeply undemocratic. We need our elected leaders to understand, without a shadow of a doubt, that they are not placed there by God, but by us, the citizens. They have been elected by us to serve, not to rule. And if and when we feel that they are not serving us in the way we wish to be served, we have the right and the means, to fire them and find somebody else.

The language used by Vavi, Zuma and Malema is worrying because it represents a step, or a few steps, towards a Mugabe. Once you believe you are chosen by God, you soon believe you are entitled to rule and to rule forever. You start to believe that your words and thoughts are God-given, and that you can do anything you want. And you start to believe that your opponents are your enemy, that they’re on the side of evil. And when that happens, human rights disappear, and violence and torture become the order of the day.

As we in South Africa watch the unfolding of events north of the Limpopo we need to urgently look to our own back yard, lest we see a repeat performance in our own land, in 5, 10, 15 or 20 years from now.

(This post appeared on the Citizen Journalism in Africa website on 26th June 2008: www.citizenjournalismafrica.org)

A crisis by any other name

Originally posted on the Citizen Journalism in Africa portal on 14 April 2008 (www.citizenjournalismafrica.org),

Last week I wrote a comment in response to a blog by Sandile Memela, on the South African blog site, Thought Leader (http://www.thoughtleader.co.za/sandilememela/2008/04/09/why-mbekis-quiet-diplomacy-is-the-best-solution-for-zimbabwe-and-the-rest-of-dark-africa/). Memela’s blog was a defence of Thabo Mbeki’s ‘quiet diplomacy’. I ended my outraged response with the comment that in contrast with President Mbeki’s lack of action, Zambia’s President, Levy Mwanawasa was showing real leadership by calling a summit on Zimbabwe.

Well, it turns out my comments were a little premature. Yes, President Mwanawasa was showing more leadership than Mbeki, but clearly not enough. The SADC summit did issue a statement expressing concern about the situation in ZImbabwe, and calling for the election results to be released ‘expeditiously’ — but this seems to me rather wishy-washy and not nearly strong enough to ensure that strong action is taken right now.

By all accounts, the SADC heads of state were locked in discussions until 3am on Saturday morning. No, not hashing out the details of a high-level delegation to Zimbabwe, or possible measures to be taken against Robert Mugabe and his cronies, but debating whether the use of the word ‘crisis’, was appropriate. Apparently theologians during the Middle Ages used to have heated debates about how many angels could dance on the head of a pin. The SADC summit’s agonised deliberations over the use of a single word seem to be to be just as useful and practical. As a guest on our national radio station, SAFM put it this morning, “if people are being harassed and even tortured because of their political allegiances, that is a crisis. When inflation is so bad that most people can’t afford to buy food, that is a crisis. In South Africa, we are experiencing problems with electricity supply and regular black-outs, and we refer to that as a crisis. So why is Zimbabwe not a crisis?” (I was in the car so couldn’t write down his exact words — but this is in essence what he said.)

But in the end, who cares what you call it — a dire situation, a crisis, a big big problem — the question is:  what do we do about it? Let’s have some concrete proposals of clear steps that need to be taken, with timeframes and dates attached, and consequences to be faced — not simply statements of concern.

But at least a statement of concern is more than anyone’s likely to get from Thabo Mbeki. “Crisis, what crisis?”, blared the headlines on Sunday, quoting our esteemed president. Not only does this make me spitting mad, but it makes me very, very worried. When I was a practicing journalist I had the occasion once or twice to attend press conferences addressed by Mugabe. I used to marvel that unlike other leaders, he didn’t try to put a spin on negative news. He just denied it outright. Where other leaders would say, ‘yes, this happened, but it’s not our fault because…’, Mugabe would just say ‘it never happened. The media lied. The photographs were doctored. It never happened.’ What worries me deeply now, is that our own head of state seems to be adopting the same denialist behaviour.

Of course, he has done it before — in the face of the huge HIV/Aids…um…crisis. But I thought that perhaps that was an exception, a special case, motivated by complex factors that many writers more intelligent than I have tried to explain, over the years. Now it is becoming clear that denial is a habit of his. I mean, even Jacob Zuma is starting to look better — at least he had the sense to criticise the delay in the release of the election results. What, Jacob Zuma looking like a better alternative to what we have? Now not only do I fear for Zimbabwe, but I fear for South Africa.

What also worries me about much of the public debate here about ZImbabwe, is that people talk as if it’s about whether Mbeki (and other leaders in the region) should back either Mugabe or Tsvangirai. Some writers have, for example, commented that Mbeki is reluctant to support Tsvangirai because the MDC grew out of the unions, and the parallels between this and Zuma’s backing from the unions in SA are worrying for him. This may be true, but it misses the point. It’s not about personalities. It is the people of Zimbabwe, and the ideal of democracy that need support.  Mbeki and others with power should be insisting that democratic principles and practices be upheld, and that the choices of the people of Zimbabwe must be respected.