In August 1991 I left SA on a fellowship in urban studies at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I was in my 20s and brimming with youthful excitement about living in a free and democratic society. I took classes with Omar Razzaz, a young Jordanian academic with a freshly minted doctorate from Harvard. I also took my chances with the distinguished professor of economics, Lance Taylor, a polymath. Lance tried hard to get me to think quantitatively - without much success.
For both professors I wrote my final paper on aspects of land reform in SA - a qualitative paper for Razzaz and a quantitative one for Taylor. The upshot of both was that SA could learn a great deal from the successful experiment with land reform in Zimbabwe in the early 1980s. This was long before the "fast-track" programme, which Horace Campbell accurately described as executive lawlessness. If we ever went down that path in this country, it would be the beginning of the end of us as a nation.
The earlier Zimbabwean experiment debunked the notion that any tinkering with large-scale commercial farming would lead to productivity losses and threaten food security. On the contrary, small farmers made better use of land by applying higher levels of (family) labour and utilising more available land.
The numbers said it all. In 1981-1982 the average size of white-owned large-scale farms in Mashonaland was 1,640ha but the average area under development was only 168ha, or 10%. About one-half to two-thirds of available large-scale commercial land was neither under crops nor lying fallow. Small farmers in the Umfurudzi region had average cotton yields of 1,738kg per hectare compared to 1,500kg per hectare in commercial farms. By the end of the decade small farmers had increased their share of the nation's maize output from 16% to 66%.
In their study of Zimbabwe's land reform programme, Dan Weiner, Sam Moyo, Barry Munslow and Phil O'Keefe concluded that "no sane participant in the current debate would wish to see the elimination of the truly efficient white commercial farmers". But surely, they argued, it was in the nation's best interests that "any of the land of good arable potential not being utilised should be allocated to assuage the land hunger of the peasants and thereby to increase the total national agricultural output".
Similar land underutilisation was taking place in SA. A Development Bank of Southern Africa study showed substantial underutilisation of white-owned large farms. Because of deteriorating trade in agriculture, the proportion of farmers' assets held in nonagricultural investments increased from 8.8% in 1970 to 13.9% in 1983. White farmers were simply diverting the cheap credit available to agriculture and investing in beach cottages, townhouses, insurance policies and the like.
However, there are limits to the parallels. Zimbabwe had high levels of government support for small-scale farming. Also, unlike SA, with its high unemployment, Zimbabweans could invest their wages and remittances in their farms. And when it comes to the land itself, only about 10% of the land in SA is in high rainfall areas. Small farming would require big investments in irrigation. But here too is a problem politicians rarely mention. Despite water being declared a natural resource, white farmers still dominate rights to it in SA.
In short, land redistribution is not possible without water reform - without extension services, financial support and all the other support services needed for sustainable farming.
As an urban planner I was also acutely aware of the rising rates of urbanisation in SA, and that many young people would rather find jobs in the cities than eke out a living on the farms. Estimates were that only about 8%-15% of the 4-million people involved in farming were interested in commercial farming. But even if we accept these lower percentages, they still translate into anywhere between 300,000 and 500,000.
Land reform can improve agricultural output and provide social security for millions. I would rather put people on the land than on the dole.
Let me hasten to say that research I undertook almost 30 years ago is certainly dated. But that is my point. Instead of a fruitful discussion about land reform, we spent 10 years investigating the arms deal; five years - and countless deaths - about whether HIV causes Aids; 10 years, and counting, about Jacob Zuma's treasonous kleptocracy. The opportunity costs for our national development are staggering.
Then again, with the right leadership and will, countries can achieve turnarounds in short periods. What concerns me is not so much that land reform is back on the agenda - it's better late than never. My worry is that with declining numbers in the polls, the ANC is worried about being blind-sided by radicals in the party and by the EFF. That is the worst reason for changing policies. Robert Mugabe announced his "fast-track" land reforms after the war veterans protested against the failure to redistribute land. Similarly, an ANC driven to land redistribution by political pressure could be driven to divvy up the land among those who shout the loudest. The right policy changes done for the wrong reasons can do more harm than good, because they make people believe something is being done when they are being hoodwinked.
The history of BEE is instructive. Instead of empowering millions of small-business people, the spoils went to a few politically connected individuals. If we went down this path again, that would mean the beginning of the end. And we would find ourselves here again, 30 years from now. If the past is prologue, I wouldn't bet against it. A genuine land reform programme would require that we go back to the future, to the kind of knowledge-based approach to public policy that once powered our imagination all those years ago.
• Mangcu is professor of sociology at George Washington University in the US..