ANC courts its own destruction by defending the indefensible

THE Nkandla debacle brings to mind the infamous Information Scandal that rocked the National Party almost four decades ago, but President Jacob Zuma's little difficulties could have more serious consequences for the ANC than that episode had for its predecessors.

THE Nkandla debacle brings to mind the infamous Information Scandal that rocked the National Party almost four decades ago, but President Jacob Zuma's little difficulties could have more serious consequences for the ANC than that episode had for its predecessors.

Nkandla has become such an albatross for the ANC that it could define the organisation for years to come unless it changes its mind and removes Zuma. That, obviously, is unlikely to happen.

The National Party, after months of embarrassing revelations, eventually got rid of the culprits and moved on.

The Nats were, of course, responsible for a policy declared internationally as a crime against humanity. Its moral deficiency therefore cannot be contested. Any system replacing apartheid could only be expected to be morally superior.

But the constant abuse of power, especially the current closing of ranks by the ANC hierarchy in the face of such blatant wrongdoing, confronts us with an uncomfortable reality: we're still deep - if not deeper - in a moral swamp. It may be a different party in power, but South Africa is still led by people lacking in moral rectitude.

Leaders, especially in a democracy, reflect the sentiments of the society they represent. The end of an oppressive system hasn't come with a concomitant improvement in our ethical behaviour.

Transformation has become a buzz word, but we have a narrow grasp of it. It's only a superficial improvement in our social environment, without any refinement of our value system or behaviour.

The Information Scandal, or Muldergate as it was also called, was also, like Nkandla, about the abuse of power. A $100-million slush fund was approved by prime minister John Vorster and information minister Connie Mulder, his putative successor, and entrusted to Eschel Rhoodie to buy influence around the world and pay for dirty tricks against South Africa's enemies. At home, Louis Luyt was used as a front to launch The Citizen newspaper to negate the anti-government stance of the English press.

The scandal broke at a time of great uncertainty in the country. The black townships were in turmoil following the 1976 riots, Steve Biko had died in police custody and the government had banned several publications and 19 black organisations in an attempt to quell the rebellion.

Interesting then - and now - is the pivotal role played by the judiciary and the press in exposing the scandal. Judge Anton Mostert, who headed a one-man inquiry, was attacked by the government, although probably with not as much venom as public protector Thuli Madonsela has been.

Mostert's inquiry confirmed the exposés in the media: that the Info Scandal was the brainchild of Vorster and Mulder and that the latter had lied to parliament about the funding of The Citizen.

Both men were forced to resign, and they died bitter, broken and discredited. The beneficiary of their misfortune was, of course, PW Botha.

Fast-forward to the present. The ANC is saddled with a morally compromised leader. Its first instinct is not to confront him, but to lash out at critics and defend him with everything it's got.

Muldergate was fraud and dishonesty writ large, but it was a project to advance political and diplomatic goals, not to benefit an individual. That is not to approve of it, but it is a mitigation of sorts.

Nkandlagate and its many ugly cousins - corruption charges, spy tapes, influence peddling etcetera - are about the naked greed of one man. And we're betting the farm to defend his honour.

It's the worst form of immorality when state resources are liberally deployed not to curb wrongdoing, but to cover it up. It's a sickening spectacle. It sullies and diminishes those involved.

Those bullying Madonsela are obviously breaking the law. The constitution clearly states: "No person or organ of state may interfere with the functioning of these [Chapter Nine] institutions."

But they're unlikely to be charged. They control the levers of power.

By its actions, the ANC ensures that the rot festers and incubates and that it will, in time, become a cancer that will spread and could ultimately destroy the organisation. The country will doubtless survive, but the distinction between right and wrong increasingly becomes dangerously blurred with every crime or misconduct that goes unpunished.

Society is then reduced to a jungle in which laws are bent willy-nilly to suit the whims of the crooked and the powerful.

For such a young democracy, every step we take or call we make is like a building block that can decide whether we have a firm foundation for a stable society, or an edifice that can easily crumble into the morass of the past.

The choices we make now have long-term consequences.