It is entirely understandable South Africans would think twice about picking up yet another book that exposes the inner workings of those who have stolen from us. After all, corruption fatigue is extremely high. However, if we become fatalistic about corruption and simply yawn when whistle-blowers tell their stories, revealing more evidence of continued looting, then the scourge will never go away. Criminals love a society of jaded citizens who have given up on oversight, accountability and justice. That is why we must stay with the detail. Our country cannot be fixed unless we refuse cynicism.
It is for this reason that Deep Collusion: Bain and the capture of South Africa (NB Publishers), written by whistle-blower and former Bain & Company partner Athol Williams, is necessary reading. Fortunately, it is not only an important read because of the subject matter, but also an enjoyable one because of the quality of the writing. It is rare for books of this type to be both compelling in terms of the evidence and written like a good work of fiction. Sadly, it is not escapist fantasy, but a realistic tale of what happens when a global management consulting company abandons its professed ethical values to make a profit at all costs.
Williams reveals how Bain came to SA with little public-sector experience, by the company’s own admission. Yet instead of building up expertise by developing an understanding of the context within which it was to operate, slowly drawing on skills from elsewhere in the world and, over time, building South African networks, the company short-circuited these processes, particularly with the help of its head of operations here, an overzealous man named Vittorio Massone.
Massone met Sipho Maseko several times before he became CEO of Telkom. In fact, he was given “CEO coaching” by Bain and was a regular at its Melrose Arch offices in Johannesburg. Within days of him becoming CEO, Bain was inside Telkom, courtesy of a tender it won after helping to word the advert for the tender to make sure it was the most ideal candidate for the job. Massone wrote to his boss to confirm Bain had a hand in wording the RFP (request for proposal), government speak for adverts inviting companies to pitch to work with the state.
Bain deliberately groomed Maseko and the investment paid off immediately, with an initial contract worth R91m. In the end, the company got more business from Telkom and its subsidiary, Business Connection. Williams believes Bain profited about R1bn from Telkom, making this one of its most lucrative client partnerships anywhere in the world. It is for this reason also that Massone was something of a rock star among his leadership peers within the firm. He had magically accessed SA’s state coffers despite Bain not having a competitive advantage over consulting firms with relevant public-sector experience. The key to this “magic” was corporate grooming and a willingness to sacrifice the public credibility of Bain by attaching the company brand to the state capture activities of the likes of then future SA Revenue Service (Sars) boss Tom Moyane and then SA president Jacob Zuma.
The real truth – as opposed to 'baintruth', as Williams labels the public relations tomfoolery of the firm - was the exact opposite. Instead of ensuring the state became fit for purpose, Bain knowingly assisted the protagonists in state capture to break and capture parts of the state edifice.
Massone met with Zuma 18 times. These meetings were mostly after hours and often lengthy. The former president and the corrupt gang he was beholden to could do with the credibility of Bain to justify changes at state-owned enterprises (SOEs). Hollowing out parts of the state to capture it could be masked by pretending that objective, data-driven advice from an independent, reputable, global managing consulting firm was the motivation for these changes and that the purpose was simply to ensure a more effective and efficient state apparatus was put in place. The real truth — as opposed to “baintruth”, as Williams labels the public relations tomfoolery of the firm — was the exact opposite. Instead of ensuring the state became fit for purpose, Bain knowingly assisted the protagonists in state capture to break and capture parts of the state edifice.
This is why, as with Maseko, Massone spent a lot of time with Moyane. Massone was aware before the rest of the country that Zuma would be choosing Moyane for the top job at Sars. They began working on a “profound strategy refresh” for the revenue service many months before Moyane’s appointment was announced. First, this was intellectually dishonest work — how can you diagnose any client without real data about that client and without any experience of and direct observations about the inner workings of the client? This suggests Bain and Moyane were hell-bent on ensuring a radical restructuring of Sars regardless of conditions there. The reason for such madness is obvious — Sars had to be repurposed to ensure it became a site of looting and to decimate its excellent and continuously improving tax collection capacity so the big state capture fish in the country could have better odds of evading the authority. This means, second, that not only was the “profound strategy refresh” a clear case of intellectual bankruptcy because it was not based on any gap analysis done at Sars, but was also a criminal and immoral plan.
Deep Collusion would have been an interesting read even if it had omitted these horrific accounts of state capture and focused simply on the personal journey of Williams as a whistle-blower. Luckily for the greedy reader like myself, it does both. Williams first experienced Bain as an intern while doing an MBA in the US. During his professional life he left and re-entered the company five times. The last couple of times are the most salient in helping us understand the evil of Bain and to understand why the firm cannot get away with pretending Massone was a lone ranger.
Massone lied to the Nugent Commission of Inquiry into Sars that investigated weaknesses there that led to billions of rand in taxes not being collected and the near collapse of the entity. Despite irresistible evidence collected, collated and synthesised in this book, Massone tried to play dumb about what Bain knew and had done to help set up Zuma’s henchmen to hollow out entities such as Sars.
In one of the most shocking communications, the firm felt comfortable to state its primary goal was to make sure the US department of justice gave it a discount on any fine imposed for violating anti-corruption laws, including punishment for corruption committed by US companies outside that country.
From the US Bain tried to manage the crisis. The internal communication trail is mind-blowing. It pretended to care about economic justice for SA and so persuaded Williams to return as a partner to look after corporate ethics within the company. The idea was to signal to SA: “Look, we are allowing the whistle-blower, Athol Williams, with explicit contractual freedom, to watch us and tell us how to repair ourselves and make amends from the inside, and to report to you freely as SA Inc about our progress, without any sign-off from us.” Williams fell for the tricks because he needed the money. He is sanguine and philosophical about it, but I think he should be more plain-speaking about giving in to the temptation. He erred. Bain obstructed his work (no surprise there). He could not access the reports of global law firm Baker McKenzie about alleged irregularities in SA (and at Telkom in particular), and by the time the Zondo commission of inquiry was constituted to investigate state capture and corruption, the company was even writing scripts — verbatim — of what Williams and others could and could not say in this country. He kept the files on his home computer, which is just as well because as soon as he resigned out of disgust, they immediately seized his work assets knowing they contained data they would not want him to download. But he has enough on his personal hardware to indict the company. Now imagine how much more is hidden on the devices that were seized. We still only have a partial view and that alone tells a story of a company that should never be trusted.
In one of the most shocking communications, the firm felt comfortable to state its primary goal was to make sure the US department of justice gave it a discount on any fine imposed for violating anti-corruption laws, including punishment for corruption committed by US companies outside that country. This, as Williams points out, shows Bain never cared about reparative justice for South African taxpayers. It never cared about damaging our democracy. Bain never cared about helping to hollow out the state, therefore being more than “only” corrupt, but also a state capture agent. All the firm cared about was minimising any punishment back home in the US. Which is why the only correct response to such profound criminality and unethical conduct is to ban the company from being able to do business with any part of the South African state.
If you read this book with others such as those of Themba Maseko (For My Country: Why I Blew the Whistle on Zuma and the Guptas), Pieter Louis-Myburgh (The Republic Of Gupta — A Story of state Capture and Gangster state: Unravelling Ace Magashule’s Web of Capture), Crispian Olver (How to Steal a City: The Battle for Nelson Mandela Bay, an Inside Account and A House Divided: Battle for the Mother City) and several others in what is becoming state capture genre, you develop an intimate understanding of the sophistication of the looters. It is precisely because of their sophisticated ways that we dare not get tired of focusing on the detail. That is the only way we can empower ourselves to spot the next Bain, the next Gupta landing at Waterkloof Air Force Base. We must remain vigilant.
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