Farewell to a spin doctor constantly in crisis mode
WHEN Mac Maharaj was recalled from retirement to become President Jacob Zuma’s spokesman in 2011, he thought the job would require just a few hours of work each day.
At the time, the then 76-yearold told the Sunday Times that he thought his would be a manageable task because it would not entail fielding calls from journalists at ungodly hours.
“You need to understand that I am part of a structure, with a lot of support people helping me to discharge the job,” he said.
“And I hope that, with time, there are a lot of routine matters [on which] you will go through the normal communications office. Even to contact me, reach me through them, because I have other tasks as well,” said Maharaj. How wrong he was. His tenure as presidential spokesman has been the busiest and most tumultuous since the advent of democracy.
Maharaj, however, should have known when he took up the job that it would be so.
Zuma had been in office for barely two years and had already lost two spokesmen who just could not cope with the pressure.
Following the news of his retirement, Maharaj had so many requests for interviews that he decided he would not grant any until he had finished packing up his office next week.
So it is not known whether he believes he achieved the goal he set himself when he first took up the job in 2011.
At the time he said that he needed to build a relationship between Zuma and the media whereby “we agree with each other”.
“But we need a healthy one in the sense that you understand the president — where he comes from on any issue — and he is informed by your insights,” Maharaj said.
“With those insights, [we] can differ with each other and we can engage, debate and discourse. Provided we understand each other . . . we have a foundation for a healthy relationship.”
But the belief that he would play only the strategic role of fostering a “healthy relationship” was always going to be a pipe dream.
To speak for Zuma is to be permanently engaged in crisis management.
If you are not fielding questions about yet another twist in the Nkandla scandal then reporters are bombarding you with questions over what the president knew about his Gupta family friends landing at an air force base.
If it is not the Guptas, then it is the allegations of meddling by the president and his associates in the work of one or other parastatal, government department or other public institution.
Then there are endless questions about the president’s private life. Where is his second wife Nompumelelo MaNtuli-Zuma?
Is it true the president plans to marry again? Was his son, Duduzane, under the influence of alcohol when his Porsche crashed into that mini-bus taxi?
There is travel — both local and abroad — that would be taxing for anyone, let alone an 80-year-old. And the poor health of his son has meant that Maharaj has had to divide his time between Pretoria and his home in Durban.
As if all of that was not enough, he has had to spend hours on end trying to convince a sceptical public that the president’s controversial comments on culture, religion and gender were quoted out of context by a sensationalist media.
During his tenure, he repeated the phrase “out of context” so
FUNNY GUY: Outgoing presidential spokesman Mac Maharaj never lost his sense of humour often that it almost became his new nickname.
But it was his “critical but stable” phrase in reference to the condition of the late Nelson Mandela that would become a more catchy label.
Maharaj, who worked closely with Mandela on Robben Island and during the constitutional negotiations, was appointed to speak on behalf of the government and the Mandela family following public panic and confusion caused by too many people saying different things when the former president was first hospitalised.
It was a masterstroke on the part of the government.
Maharaj handled the pressure from local and foreign media like the veteran professional he is.
In private, he would complain about getting little sleep as he spent up to 20 hours a day answering calls from journalists across the world about Mandela’s condition.
But even then he did not lose his sense of humour.
If you caught him on a good day, he would not put down the phone without telling you one or other Mandela anecdote. Most of them related to their time in prison.
The sense of humour sometimes made its way into the official statements he issued. In one instance, for example, he stated that Mandela had looked up from his hospital bed and shouted “Nxamalala!” when he saw Zuma walking in.
At the time Mandela was so sick he could hardly recognise people, let alone talk. So it was hard for anyone to believe him.
Journalists who called Maharaj regularly for comment on stories would get this standard response every time they politely began their conversations by inquiring about his health.
“I’m still alive despite your attempts,” he would say.
A week before he announced his retirement, Maharaj became the first-ever government spin doctor to pull an April Fools’ joke and succeed.
He issued a statement announcing the appointment of fellow political pensioner Essop Pahad, former cabinet minister Charles Nqakula and ANC spokesman Zizi Kodwa to nonexistent ministries. Many media houses fell for it.
As he made his farewells on Wednesday, he had this to say: “In the meantime, for those who think my retirement is premature, I am advised that the gatekeeper of hell has taken note and will refuse me entry if I should arrive at the gates.”
He repeated the phrase ‘out of context’ so often that it almost became his new nickname