Be honest, what did you really expect at Sunday’s family gathering? That President Cyril Ramaphosa would show up on time? He was late as usual, an all too common sign of disrespect for a nation in waiting. That the president would fire his minister of police, Senzo Mchunu, because of the growing scandal around this cabinet appointment? Our leader did nothing of the sort and announced suspension on leave.
Hilariously, Mchunu had already announced that he had asked the president to be put on leave, thereby saving himself some embarrassment. Rather than fire the minister, which he is allowed to do, the president once again used the only tool in his political toolbox: a commission of inquiry.
The commentariat went crazy demanding swift, decisive action. Yawn. If you do not know this president by now, you’re not paying attention. He does not do decisive. Our leader is adept at kicking the can down the road. Any other leader would have fired the scandal-ridden minister of justice, Thembisile Simelane. Our president shifted her sideways to the unsettling job of minister of human settlements. Having pulled the minister of higher education off a plane to China (she has been accused of lying to parliament), he did not, as some expected, announce a cabinet reshuffle on Sunday night. She continues in the job.
There are articles and books written in academia about the political functions of a commission of inquiry. It buys time, delaying any action on an immediate scandal under the guise of “we need to gather the facts”. It allows a skilful politician to play chess with a full board, trying to figure out how to move pieces that, startlingly, go in all directions. It gives a (false) sense of security — nobody is going to recall you (remember Mbeki?) if you do nothing for as long as possible. What a long-suffering public sees is a weak and indecisive leader lacking the testicular fortitude to make decisions not for personal or party political reasons but for the sake of the country.
What he did is who he is. A good man, I believe, but one without the cajónes for strong, decisive leadership even when the public cries out for determined action. In the process, he underestimates the goodwill of the people of South Africa.
I miss Madiba ahead of Mandela Day this coming Friday. The man made tough decisions that rattled friends (ask corrupt elements in his own party) and unsettled the opposition (ask FW de Klerk). What mattered more was the interests of the country not the loyalty of the comrades.
He had a strong sense of personal integrity as a leader that put principle above partisan and petty politics. Here’s what’s important about Madiba’s leadership: he gained credibility as a leader from doing what was right rather than what was popular and what would bring people together (the familiar Ellis Park Rugby gamble) rather than tear us apart. The last thing on the great leader’s mind was his own political fortunes.
I genuinely felt sad for Ramaphosa on Sunday night. He cannot help himself. What he did is who he is. A good man, I believe, but one without the cajónes for strong, decisive leadership even when the public cries out for determined action. In the process, he underestimates the goodwill of the people of South Africa.
Right now, after the revelations about Mchunu and constant newsfeed about scandal in the police and security services, it is hard not to feel that we are on the verge of descending into a gangster state. The regular assassinations of gang leaders no longer rattle us nor does the mowing down of everyone from municipal leaders to local politicians to university academics to whistle-blowers. The president could have sent a strong message from the very top to stop the rot but then again, that’s not who he is.
The problem for the president is that the ministers failing the country are also the people he appointed.
I am desperately concerned for higher education right now. Since the beginning, I made the point in this column that you cannot appoint as a political leader for higher education someone who was a tutor at Unisa (a job students can do) and has absolutely no experience in university leadership, governance, management or administration. Then and now, I made the point that this was deeply disrespectful of our scientific and scholarly communities housed in some of the world’s leading universities. In short, the minister of higher education did not appoint herself.
Our first ministers, from professors Sibusiso Bhengu and Kader Asmal, were accomplished scholars who knew the heartbeat of the modern university. Those who followed in that portfolio had records of distinguished service in university councils, at the very least, and had won the respect of the sector as academics.
We simply cannot continue in this state of rudderless leadership in higher education when universities at home and abroad are experiencing an existential threat to their futures as a result of a crisis of funding worsened by Trumpian politics.
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