Rogue units in the cabinet are undermining Ramaphosa with arbitrary, illogical lockdown rules

The next time President Cyril Ramaphosa stands up to speak, don’t believe a word until Nkosazana DlaminiZuma, his erstwhile rival for the party leadership, has publicly vouched for it. Without her approval the president’s pronouncements apparently mean diddly-squat. She’s not the metaphorical power behind the throne — she wields the levers of power in plain sight, and with some relish.

Announcing the easing of the lockdown last week, Ramaphosa said the ban on the sale of tobacco products would be lifted. This week Dlamini-Zuma put her foot down. That wasn’t gonna happen, she said. Her decision was as audacious as it was unprecedented. Never before has a president been so publicly humiliated by one of his ministers. The president’s word, once publicly articulated, should be final. This debacle has left Ramaphosa with egg on his face and his authority dented, if not seriously undermined.

Ramaphosa has gained praise for the swift and decisive way he has handled the Covid-19 outbreak and his star seems to be on the rise. It is not yet clear whether Dlamini Zuma’s move is a reflection of genuine policy differences or an attempt by his foes in the party, alarmed by his increasing popularity, to bring him down a notch. Also, cigarette smugglers — known to have bankrolled certain individuals in the ANC — stand to make a killing from the illicit sale of tobacco products.

Dlamini-Zuma’s supporters have been putting it about that the decision to reverse Ramaphosa’s announcement was not hers alone, that she was speaking for the government. But she’s the minister responsible for the disaster.

Also, it is not about cigarettes, or taking up cudgels on behalf of smokers. It could have involved any issue. At stake is the authority of the president. Does his writ run in the cabinet, and therefore in the country? The public is entitled to know who runs this place.

Ramaphosa has made speeches that have endeared him to the public. But he’s left the finer details to his ministers. It seems either he’s lost his grip on them or he’s left them a lot of leeway to pursue personal agendas. This week was a case in point. The lockdown was supposed to be eased, yet this level 4 seems no different, if not more stringent, than the previous level 5. And a curfew has been thrown in for good measure.

The law on jogging, for instance, seems to have been crafted by people who are either drunk with power or who’ve taken leave of their senses. They’ve graciously allowed us to go for a run between 6am and 9am. The fact that it’s still dark in winter at 6am, and running at that time could be dangerous, seems to cut no ice. And what about those who have to go to work? When are they supposed to run?

The national command council has mercifully given us permission to go about our normal business. We can now see friends, visit relatives and also, I presume, walk to the shops. But we dare not be seen running or jogging outside the prescribed period. In other words, you can do whatever you like, but just don’t run. It’s stunning in its stupidity.

How Ramaphosa handles this pandemic and the toll it is certain to ultimately take could make or break his presidency. Since taking over from Jacob Zuma two years ago, Ramaphosa’s tenure has been less than stellar. He’s appeared tentative and reluctant to take the obvious but courageous steps necessary to change the country for the better. The recent downgrades by ratings agencies, for instance, may have been an indictment of the Zuma legacy, but they also indicate general dissatisfaction with Ramaphosa’s performance. He’s merely been nibbling around the edges.

But the Covid-19 outbreak seems to have liberated him from the suffocating embrace of the likes of Ace Magashule at Luthuli House. It has galvanised him. Working through the cabinet, which he controls, and not the party, seems to have been a boon for him. He’s been articulate and decisive. When communications minister Stella Ndabeni-Abrahams got out of line, he called her in, gave her a thorough talking-to and suspended her immediately. And the public has generally rallied behind him. People respond well to firm and decisive leadership.

But South Africans are worried, even scared. They see the death and destruction the virus is inflicting in more developed and wealthier countries and they wonder what will happen when its full impact is finally felt here. They want to be assured that the government knows what it’s doing. They want to trust it. Which is why they are prepared to go along with restrictions and sacrifices.

They’ve been confined in their homes for weeks now and many businesses are likely to go belly-up with the loss of thousands of jobs. Even the deployment of thousands of troops, which could normally have caused an outcry, has so far passed with hardly a whimper.

But something seemed to flip this week. There’s a feeling that people’s tolerance is being taken for granted, even abused. Some in the cabinet see this as an opportunity to achieve ends that would be out of reach under normal circumstances. They should be disabused of such a notion. SA is a democracy, not a totalitarian state. Even in such extraordinary circumstances, people’s feelings or views have to be respected, no matter how petty or trivial they might appear. Decisions that are arbitrary or bereft of logic or reason have to be avoided.

Ramaphosa needs to get a grip on his ministers. He should not allow any of them to be the tail that wags the dog.