Selebi destroyed by greed, lies and arrogance

How a jolly teacher became a struggle hero, an acclaimed negotiator and finally a national disgrace

Jackie Selebi, who has died at 64, blamed the media for his downfall and he was right - up to a point and in ways he could never have understood.

Instead of critically interrogating his appointment, by his close friend President Thabo Mbeki, to the extraordinarily powerful and hugely important job of national police commissioner, the media - on the basis of the most fragile evidence- hailed it as inspirational.

What destroyed Selebi was arrogance, naivety, a reckless disregard for the rules, organisational incompetence and a belief that he was untouchable.

These elements were part of his make-up long before 1999. The praise lavished on him by the media fanned them into a terrific blaze that consumed him and came close to consuming our justice system.

Selebi was born in Johannesburg on March 7 1950. He qualified as a history teacher at the University of the North, joined the SA Students Organisation and ran its Johannesburg office while also working at a bookstore in the city. He made a bit on the side selling setwork books and stationery to students in a dark alley behind the bookstore at discount rates.

He taught at one of the toughest schools in Soweto, Musi High School, in the 1970s. Fellow teachers frowned on him as a bit of a troublemaker who was a bad influence on young minds.

This was precisely why his pupils liked him. They called him "the dancing doughnut" because even then he was well-covered and waddled. He let them smoke in class and he read books about the Mafia.

He struck those around him as someone who wanted the good life and wasn't particular about how he got it. When challenged, he was abrasive.

His political activities resulted in his arrest under the Terrorism Act of 1967. He was held for 10 months without trial and in 1979 left South Africa for Tanzania.

He was teaching at the Solomon Mahlangu Freedom College when he was told to report to ANC headquarters in Lusaka and sent to Moscow for military training.

He became head of the ANC Youth League but outsiders were unimpressed. He was overweight, untidy, unreliable, disorganised and often late. Apart from his becoming sartorially more elegant, these were all characteristics of his leadership of the police.

In spite of these flaws he was considered a smart and shrewd operator, and was elected as the youngest member of the ANC national executive committee.

He returned to South Africa in 1991 where he was put in charge of the ANC's repatriation programme for exiles and appointed to the ANC's social welfare department at its headquarters in Shell House. An early visitor was crime boss Glenn Agliotti, whom Selebi touched for money to pay his medical bills.

He became an MP in 1994 but was bored stiff as a backbencher until foreign affairs minister Alfred Nzo made him South Africa's ambassador to the United Nations in 1995. Ironically he replaced Allan Boesak, whose appointment to that position was torpedoed by accusations of fraud. Three years later, Boesak was convicted.

Selebi won accolades in Geneva for his role in the UN Commission on Human Rights campaign to ban anti-personnel mines. In 1997 he was elected chairman of the 54th session of the commission and credited for his role in its adoption of a draft ban on landmines.

He was praised for his charm, intelligence and ability to rally people behind a cause. In 1998 Nzo called him home to be South Africa's first black director-general of foreign affairs.

Just over a year later Mbeki, a close friend from exile days, asked him to succeed George Fivaz as police commissioner. His lack of experience and the fact that the job had proved too much even for the tried-and-tested management skills of SA Breweries boss Meyer Kahn, apparently gave neither man pause. Nor did it bother the press.

The appointment went to his head very quickly. He called a young constable at a police station he was visiting a "chimpanzee" because she was not sufficiently deferential. Even when attending rugby matches he surrounded himself with bodyguards and loftily ignored bystanders.

In 2001 he had to defend himself against allegations by police officers who were present that he had fled the scene of the Ellis Park soccer stampede that killed 43 people. He said he had played a key role in organising the police effort on the night.

He ignored the advice of seasoned professionals who warned him not to close down the specialised police units. He thought he knew better and the consequences for the country have been devastating.

In 2004 he became the first African president of Interpol. He immediately committed himself to fighting transnational crime in southern Africa although by this time he was already in the pocket of the kingpin of transnational crime in the region, Agliotti, who had slipped him a brown envelope containing R10000 several months before.

Further parcels of cash would be collected by Selebi, sometimes in full police uniform, from Agliotti's Midrand office. When Selebi was brought to trial in 2009, Agliotti said he had paid him more than R1.2-million in bribes since 2000.

In return Selebi had protected Agliotti's friends and shared confidential police documents with him. Selebi became a figure of ridicule as he told the press in the face of mounting evidence, "my hands are clean".

He challenged his accusers, including the Scorpions, to do their worst while doing everything he could to sabotage them. His air of untouchability seemed justified as long as Mbeki remained president, but Mbeki's downfall signalled the end of the road for his friend too.

Selebi's performance in court destroyed every shred of credibility or sympathy he may have had. Judge Meyer Joffe called him "an embarrassment to the police force, an embarrassment to the country".

He was sentenced to 15 years but allowed out on medical parole on the grounds that he had kidney failure and was dying.

At least he has earned the right to an epitaph saying: "Now do you believe me?"