After all the sound and fury, MPs get down to business without their favourite target
Suddenly people are walking with a spring in their step and a smile on their faces. The nightmare is over. It’s a brand new day, we think. It’s been an eventful few weeks, packed with surprises. Somebody, it seems, derives some morbid pleasure in putting us through an emotional wringer. Lancing a boil is always painful. But all’s well that ends well.
After many attempts we’ve finally seen the back of Jacob Zuma. He departed the way he came and the way he governed — messily, chaotically, acrimoniously and in self-serving fashion. We thought he had decided to shuffle away to the obscurity he so richly deserves when he suddenly popped up on television, arms flailing like a man drowning. He looked deranged. But then, when dictators lose power, they tend to lose their marbles as well.
He was like a man insisting on speaking before his execution. “What have I done wrong?” he kept asking. He was playing victim, but of course his perceived tormentors weren’t around to jog his memory. Reminding him of his transgressions would have been a waste of breath.
Shorn of his powers, he suddenly looked lonely and broken — his admirers, hangers-on and beneficiaries nowhere to be seen. One didn’t know whether to laugh or squirm with embarrassment. People just wanted him to go away.
When Thabo Mbeki was recalled almost a decade ago, he left with his dignity intact. In fact his reputation was mightily enhanced by the manner in which he left. He didn’t resist; he even schooled his inept executioners on how to wield the axe legally. He had time to say goodbye to his cabinet. And when some of them, especially finance minister Trevor Manuel, resigned in sympathy, the rand wobbled.
With Zuma, the markets cheered his departure merrily. He was left to loudly plead his case alone. His cabinet and all the undeserving recipients of his largesse seemed to have given him a wide berth.
It’s an odd thing to say, given Zuma’s malfeasance, but he will be missed by some. Something of an industry had formed around him. In parliament, the EFF, for instance, was craving some official recognition as the Davids who ultimately slayed Goliath. They wanted the speaker to give MPs time to comment on Zuma’s resignation. In other words, they wanted their lap of honour. But Speaker Baleka Mbete was having none of that. And so they walked out, raucously hurling insults at whoever earned their ire. It was as if the business of the day, which was to anoint Cyril Ramaphosa as the new president, had rained on their parade. Unlike Zuma, Ramaphosa will not be such an easy target. Manufactured rage has its limits.
It was also amusing to hear Julius Malema confidently declaring that a ceremony that was being chaired by the chief justice was unconstitutional.
Apart from the EFF walkout, something of a love-fest was going on inside the house. Zuma was history. But there must have been a sense of befuddlement on the ANC benches that their newly minted leader was not only holding out an olive branch to the opposition but promising to seriously consider some of their suggestions. How could Ramaphosa be so magnanimous to counter-revolutionaries? Aren’t they the enemy? Hopefully a new breeze is sweeping through the corridors of parliament.
But methinks Ramaphosa describing Mmusi Maimane’s flippant “see you in 2019” remark as a threat was putting it a bit strongly. Off-key perhaps, but nowhere near threatening. Maybe it was just Ramaphosa’s way of putting down a marker or asserting his authority over the leader of the opposition from the outset. The newfound bonhomie aside, skirmishes between the two lie ahead.
But Maimane’s problem is that his body, or rather facial expression, seems averse to anger. Maybe it’s a pastoral or priestly thing, but he always seems to express his outrage with a smirk or a smile. He doesn’t seem to have bile in his makeup; he can’t work up any rage. An effective politician should be able to think on his feet and be ready with a quick retort, but should also have some red-hot rage or venom on tap. Which is why, for instance, Zuma, an incoherent bully at the best of times, would get nervous at the mere sight of Malema but would be comfortable enough to make fun of Maimane.
But Zuma’s departure should give us all cause to pause and reflect on how we ended up in such a mess. Even a blindfolded man should not have strayed into such a ditch. How, after such a promising start, with everything going for us and the entire world cheering us on, did we drop the ball? The wholesale plunder of state resources under our noses and amid such poverty is nothing short of sickening.
How do we make sure this nightmare doesn’t recur? The price of freedom is eternal vigilance, said Thomas Jefferson. If there’s one thing the Zuma debacle has taught us it’s that we should never lower our guard. Elections do matter; and we should always choose wisely. Zuma didn’t impose himself on us.
Bantu Holomisa is selling the idea of a national convention. I don’t think it will fly. Codesa-type negotiations run the risk of unravelling the entire constitutional order. There are some who will approach it like hyenas attacking a carcass, intent on ripping it apart. Also, we can’t keep negotiating ad nauseam. Issues such as the land question and economic policy are obviously important but political parties can champion those in their manifestos.
Good governance and political accountability are the two crucial pillars that collapsed horribly under Zuma. Ramaphosa has promised to improve on the former. Ultimately it will be parliament’s responsibility to hold his administration to account.