Mandela’s chosen No 1
The fates could hardly have delivered a better platform for Ramaphosa to announce himself as the fifth president of democratic South Africa
When Cyril Ramaphosa stepped onto the balcony of Cape Town City Hall last Sunday, he closed a circle that had opened exactly 28 years earlier. It was a moment almost spiritual in its perfection, most especially in view of South Africa’s decline over the last nine years from rainbow nation to rotten republic.
On Sunday February 11 1990, as the 37year-old chairman of the Nelson Mandela reception committee, Ramaphosa stepped onto that balcony with the icon of the struggle against apartheid. A few hours earlier he had accompanied Mandela as the great man walked out of prison after 27 years behind bars.
Standing on Mandela’s left, Ramaphosa held the microphone as the 71-year-old future president spoke to tens of thousands of people on the Grand Parade below him. “Friends, comrades and fellow South Africans, I greet you all in the name of peace, democracy and freedom for all,” said Mandela.
“I stand here before you not as a prophet but as a humble servant of you, the people. Your tireless and heroic sacrifices have made it possible for me to be here today. I therefore place the remaining years of my life in your hands.”
On Sunday February 11 2018, Ramaphosa’s job as the 65-year-old recently elected leader of the ANC was to launch the Mandela centennial celebrations. But the crowd’s biggest cheer was reserved for his announcement that in his negotiations for the removal of Jacob Zuma as president of South Africa, he was doing as Mandela did: putting the people first.
“We should draw deep into Madiba’s wisdom, we should draw deep into Madiba’s style of doing things in an orderly manner, in a purposeful manner, in a way where we focus,” he said, standing in front of a large photograph of Mandela’s smiling face.
The fates could hardly have delivered a better platform for Ramaphosa to announce himself as the soon-to-be fifth president of democratic South Africa. And as he settles into the office Mandela once occupied at the Union Buildings in Pretoria, it will not be hard to imagine the “old man” flashing that wide and infectious grin, maybe even doing the “Madiba jive”. Finally, the man he saw as his natural successor gets the chance to rule.
South African politics is the gift that keeps on giving for movie-makers. Parts of Mandela’s story have already made it to screens large and small, the great man played by stars including Morgan Freeman, Danny Glover, Sidney Poitier, Idris Elba, Laurence Fishburne and Terrence Howard.
The life of Jacob Zuma offers darker material — something like House of Cards on steroids. The screenplay of this grisly film would feature Zuma’s rumoured role as a torturer — and worse — in exile in Mozambique, unlikely amounts of sex
(Zuma has had six weddings, and 22 children with 11 women), a rape trial, episodes of untold riches illicitly gained and foolishly lost, vignettes pointing to devilish cunning in the quest for unbridled power, and a cast of baddies even Hollywood would struggle to populate. The final scene, many hope, will be set in a prison cell.
As for Ramaphosa, this movie will be aimed at the art-house circuit. At the heart of the cerebral, unhurried script will be an engaging, softly spoken man — much like Mandela — who became involved in student politics while studying law.
It will relate how he launched the National Union of Mineworkers, then the Congress of South African Trade Unions, took over as secretary-general of the ANC in 1991, and spent years at Mandela’s side.
Much of the action will take place around the negotiation table — formulating South Africa’s post-democratic constitution, crafting the National Development Plan supposed to transform the country by 2030 but largely ignored by Zuma, and working on the “Zexit” process that has handed him the reins of power.
It will also involve elections: the ANC leadership fight in 1997 that he lost to Thabo Mbeki, sending him off into a business career that gave him an estimated fortune of R5-billion; the poll for ANC deputy president in 2012 in which he amassed even more votes than the victorious candidate for the party leadership, Zuma; the contest with Zuma’s ex-wife, Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, in December 2017, which handed “CR17” the ANC’s top job; and the general election next year.
Ramaphosa isn’t known for displaying a range of volatile emotions, but the actor who plays him will need to convey penitence over unfortunate remarks in an e-mail to Lonmin executives (his investment company owned 9% of the miner) before the Marikana massacre claimed the lives of 34 mineworkers in 2012; embarrassment after a bid of R18-million for a buffalo cow and her calf; and stoicism during nearly four years as deputy president to a man he clearly regarded as deeply flawed.
This period may turn out to be Ramaphosa’s Achilles heel — indeed, Julius Malema seized on it before leading his EFF colleagues in yet another walkout from the National Assembly on Thursday. “The EFF will not participate in the election of a new president to replace Zuma because we do not want to legitimise anyone from the ruling party,” he said.
We can be sure Malema will not be slow to play the same card against Ramaphosa at every opportunity, and the new president will need every ounce of his considerable political deftness to trump it. Perhaps the Hawks’ raids on Wednesday and the appearance of eight alleged Gupta stooges in the Bloemfontein Regional Court on Thursday were the first signs that the deck is already being stacked.
Can the new man do enough to turn around the ANC’s declining fortunes by election day next year? Oddly, this is where Zuma’s abysmal track record might actually help. Simply by not being Zuma, Ramaphosa is already on the front foot, and he can expect a few months in which criticism will be relatively muted, constructive engagement for the good of the country freely offered — something he pleaded for in his remarks immediately after being elected on Thursday.
His other secret weapon could be Mandela. The first democratic president’s centennial year presents Ramaphosa with a golden opportunity to accentuate his links with Madiba, to talk about his values, and to portray himself as someone out of the same mould. A statue of Mandela will be placed on the Cape Town City Hall balcony later this year. Is it too outrageous to hope Ramaphosa can do enough over the next few years — but most critically in the next 15 months — to get his own alongside it?
Jacob Zuma offers darker material — House of Cards
on steroids . . . The final scene, many hope, will be set in a prison cell