The woman who has Zuma’s ear
Lindiwe Zulu has cemented her reputation as a savvy international adviser, writes Sibusiso Ngalwa
LINDIWE Zulu broke down and cried when, in September 2009, she returned with President Jacob Zuma to the Quibaxe camp where Umkhonto weSizwe guerrillas trained during the exile years in Angola.
Quibaxe was one of the camps where soldiers from the ANC’s former military wing mutinied, sparking a bloody uprising in 1984 that was “suppressed mercilessly”, as the ANC put it in a submission to Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
Zulu has come a long way since the days when she was based at that camp in the Angolan bush. Today, instead of camouflage, she usually wears custom-made dresses and suits tailored by her fashion-designer daughter Phindile.
To many, Zulu is known only as Zuma’s outspoken international adviser and a member of his facilitation team in Zimbabwe.
Although the facilitation team includes political heavyweights such as former safety and security minister Charles Nqakula and presidential spokesman Mac Maharaj, Zulu’s unorthodox approach to the Zimbabwe talks has thrust her into the spotlight.
Her vociferous push for parties to implement electoral reforms ahead of the July 31 vote has earned her both praise and scorn from those involved in the Zimbabwean dialogue.
An irritated President Robert Mugabe singled her out for ridicule at a Zanu-PF manifesto launch in Harare last week, calling her an ordinary “street woman”.
That Mugabe is not the only ZanuPF boss angry at Zulu’s forthright nature is clear from pro-government newspaper editorials. Last week, her diplomatic style prompted the state mouthpiece, The Herald, to call on Zuma to “tether his terrier”.
Mugabe and his party accuse her of “interference” in their country’s affairs, mainly because she has led the charge among those who have insisted that the elections be held under conditions that allow for a free and fair process.
In contrast, Morgan Tsvangirai, leader of the opposition Movement for Democratic Change, praised her last Sunday, albeit in a patronising manner.
“We are grateful to the people of the Southern African Development Community, the facilitator President Zuma, and especially the young girl Lindiwe Zulu. Their sterling efforts in
She is a bit of a maverick. Sometimes we think: ‘Maybe she should not have put it that way’
trying to help this country [to move] away from catastrophe will be remembered and appreciated by all Zimbabweans,” he said to applause from supporters at a rally.
At 55, Zulu is not quite a “young girl”. She is no “ordinary” woman either. She is a wife, mother of four, grandmother of five, political activist, soldier, diplomat and polished communicator.
She earned a master’s degree in journalism in Russia, acquiring skills that she has used in various communication roles in the ANC, including as a spokeswoman for the party ahead of the first democratic elections in 1994.
But for a diplomat who was South Africa’s ambassador to Brazil be- tween 2004 and 2007, she is not one to mince her words.
Her open nature and willingness to assist journalists have won her many friends in the media, although it irritates her family that she is always on the phone — even during dinner.
She once told this newspaper that the biggest problem with the government was that it was failing to communicate properly. It is this very belief that has, sometimes, put her on a collision course with her colleagues in Zuma’s office.
When she came out of an Economic Community of Central African States summit in Chad in April and communicated Pretoria’s decision to withdraw troops from the war-torn Central African Republic, some in the Union Buildings felt that she was usurping Maharaj’s job.
Yet when ANC leaders decided her media-savvy instincts made her the perfect replacement for Jimmy Manyi as CEO of the Government Communications and Information System in August last year, she was not interested.
She opted to stay on as Zuma’s adviser, because in this post her power lies in the fact that she has the president’s ear.
Although opinions vary about whether Zuma’s role in Zimbabwe has been more effective than that of his predecessor, Thabo Mbeki, one thing is clear — Zulu’s involvement has changed the game.
A senior government official admitted that Zulu’s style sometimes caused discomfort in the government. “Lindiwe is a bit of a maverick. Sometimes we think: ‘Maybe she should not have put it that way,’ ” the official said.
But she always communicates a position that has been agreed.
“Mugabe is old. He’s not used to being spoken to in that particular manner, especially by a woman. She punches hard . . . and [Mugabe] doesn’t like that. He’s used to getting his way . . . Under Mbeki the stance was a bit soft,” said the official.
And, unlike most advisers, Zulu has direct access to Zuma.
Her colleagues in the advisory team that Zuma appointed when he came to power in 2009 — Nqakula and former economic adviser Mandisi Mphahlwa — did not last long.
Whereas Nqakula and Mphahlwa always had to go through the Union Buildings’ bureaucracy to gain access to Zuma, Zulu’s political clout meant she did not have the same problem.
Although she is not a minister, she is effectively senior to most members of the cabinet as she is a member of the influential ANC national executive committee and its more powerful national working committee.
Zulu also heads the ANC’s subcommittee on communications.
Despite her extensive travelling, she visits Luthuli House at least once a week to ensure that the party’s communications are aligned with that of the government.
Hers has been a long journey since the day in 1977 when she left her two young daughters in the care of her grandmother in Manzini, Swaziland, to join the struggle for freedom.