Weekend Argus (Saturday Edition)
Politics still too colour coded and fragmented
In this extract from MAMPHELA RAMPHELE’S latest book, she speaks candidly about her brief foray into party politics as she looks for solutions to the country’s problems.
WHAT, then, were the lessons from my disappointing foray into party politics?
Firstly, it became much clearer to me that it would take greater efforts to mobilise the majority of citizens to use the power of their votes to choose representatives they could trust. Despite slightly more than two decades of democracy, my fellow citizens, black and white, were yet to utilise the power of their democratic rights and responsibilities to shape the future they desired.
AgangSA had less than two years to launch, mobilise and fight a national election. That was simply not enough runway for an effective and safe takeoff.
The second lesson was that our politics were still too fragmented and colour coded. My attempts throughout 2013 and 2014 to convince other smaller parties to work together did not bear fruit. The United Democratic Movement was the one party with which we came closest to finalising a protracted negotiation process. In the end we did not clinch the deal and had to settle on agreeing to explore a postelection merger or alliance. This was most disappointing.
Earlier discussions with the Congress of the People and the National Reform Party also led nowhere.
The failed merger between AgangSA and the DA was a public and expensive debacle. Our agreement on the process of merging AgangSA with the DA was undermined from both sides: reluctant AgangSA members and DA establishment figures. The proposed merger with the DA disappointed many black AgangSA supporters because most black people remain distrustful of the DA and regard it as a white party. Our members feared being dominated and forced to pursue policies they saw as unacceptable, conservative and protective of white interests.
I managed to convince the majority of members of AgangSA in the Western Cape and Gauteng provinces that the merger was essential to advancing the AgangSA agenda. As the majority in the population we need to use our power to initiate and manage the transformation process.
My basic case for the merger was that the DA had the political machinery, while AgangSA had the ideals and policy options to drive a transformation agenda for the sort of society we envisaged.
Discussions ended before I could visit Mpumalanga, Limpopo and KwaZulu-Natal to canvass support from our members there.
It also became clear that the DA establishment had an axe to grind with me for my earlier reluctance to accept their invitation to join the party. They were only interested in me as a leader of their party, not as someone wanting to initiate major policy shifts.
Many in the DA establishment were not ready for a merger that would have brought changes to the institutional culture and conduct of business within the DA. They were still too comfortable with the status quo of being an official opposition to risk becoming part of a majority black party. In short the DA was a comfort zone that they were not yet ready to abandon.
The surprise ultimatum issued by Helen Zille through the media on Sunday February 9, 2014 for me to sign up as a member of the DA instead of pursuing the agreed merger was a deliberate tactic to scuttle the deal. I was shocked because I had expected much more from Zille, with whom I had worked at the University of Cape Town (UCT). I was astounded that she could betray the spirit of our agreement announced only a few days before. I was still in the process of consulting with AgangSA members (as had been agreed and confirmed earlier that week) and she knew this.
AgangSA, like any selfrespecting institution, had a constitutional requirement that any merger had to be put to the party membership before it could become effective. DA leaders, especially Zille, knew me well enough to know that I was unlikely to submit to ultimatums to save my skin. How could I betray so many people who had placed their trust in me?
There was another sinister reason for pushing me into a “sign up or else” situation. The DA had unwisely decided to march on the ANC headquarters, Luthuli House, on Wednesday February 12, 2014. I would have had to lead the march on Luthuli House as my first act as a parliamentary leader candidate. Such a provocative act of challenging a powerful political opponent on their own turf could have led to bloodshed. It did not take much to realise that the confrontation between ANC leaders and DA leaders with me on the front line would have been headlined as “black on black” violence!
It was a short-sighted political tactic with potentially huge reputational risks for all involved. In the end the march had to be aborted for fear of violence.
The DA establishment also played the fear-of-failure card. The easiest decision, even at this late stage, would have been for me to cave in and sign up as a DA member and become their presidential candidate. But doing so would have entailed betraying all those ordinary people who had placed their hopes in alternative party politics. Abandoning these fellow citizens would have added salt to the humiliation of poor black people, who are often forced into relationships of convenience in exchange for material benefits.
My principles and values could never have allowed me to abandon those who had pinned their hopes on AgangSA as a new beginning. They had placed their trust in me. I felt strongly that it was better to fail fighting a valiant fight than succumb to humiliation from those using their material dominance to undermine others. After all, you often learn much more from failure after trying hard than from a success that is dependent on you compromising your values.
The third lesson from the AgangSA experience was the realisation that the ANC would stop at nothing to remain in power.
Undermining the foundations of our democracy, including the constitution, has become part of their operational plan. The IEC became discredited as a (previously shining) example of an agent for free, fair and transparent elections. One of the successful interventions that AgangSA joined was a collaboration with other opposition parties to force the IEC chair, Pansy Tlakula, to step down. Like so many ANC leaders, Tlakula had defied the public protector, Thuli Madonsela. In this instance Madonsela found that Tlakula was to be held accountable for her role in the corrupt procurement of a lease costing R320 million for the IEC headquarters. “Tlakula’s actions risk a loss of public confidence in the IEC and also threaten the IEC’s reputation as an impartial constitutional body,” said Madonsela. “Tlakula’s actions foster a perception from potential service providers that they can’t expect fair, equal treatment from the IEC.”
The problem in the lease came down to an “undisclosed conflict of interest” between Tlakula and businessperson Thaba Mufamadi, who had an ownership stake in the property through his company. Theirs was possibly a romantic as well as a business relationship.
Curiously, the DA disassociated itself from the joint opposition parties’ efforts to challenge impunity at the IEC. The official reason given by Helen Zille was that they could not see a credible alternative within the IEC with the capacity to run elections if Tlakula were to be forced out. That seemed a surprisingly defeatist view.
How could we put up with someone who defied the public protector and thereby undermined the very constitution on which elections were based? How could we be so tolerant of someone breaking the rules, let alone her defiance of accountability to the public?
Dreams, Betrayal and Hope is published by Penguin Books at a recommended retail price of R220.