Amid the shady deals, workers are the losers

SOUTH African workers are under attack. They are often told by elites that demanding high wages is dangerous as it will fuel inflation.

Putting more money into the pockets of workers, so the argument goes, will result in a higher demand for goods thus pushing prices higher.

This will chip away purchasing power so that fewer goods can be bought with large sums of cash.

The Reserve Bank, whose constitutional mandate is to protect the value of the rand, is a proponent of this strand of thinking.

It is almost as if workers have the capacity to take South Africa down the Zimbabwean route, where a loaf of brown bread once cost a wheelbarrow of Zim dollars.

Workers are also told that they are heavily protected by labour legislation which makes it difficult for them to be hired and fired.

Prospective foreign and local investors cling to this view like the gospel of truth.

There is also the argument by captains of industry that demand for higher salaries means the economy will have to employ fewer workers.

Another argument against higher pay is that South African productivity levels are too low to warrant a hike in salaries.

All these arguments have merit. But only up to a point.

The point at which these arguments fizzle out is when inequality – extremes of wealth and poverty – is taken into account.

Those on the impoverished side of the divide develop a dangerous envy of those who live in the land of milk and honey.

Meanwhile, the filthy rich live in a fear that is inflicted by their own wealth.

Workers are asking what appears to be a simple, but nonetheless important, question: If the CEO can get a R40-million bonus a year why can’t we get a R4000 salary increase?

The situation is so crass that one unionist argued that what the striking mine workers were demanding was nothing more than the equivalent of parking lot money for mine bosses.

It is, of course, easy for politicians, unionists and alleged communists to condemn the private sector for perpetuating inequality through so-called slave wages.

It is, after all, politically correct to do so. But the truth is, acting on its own, the private sector would not be able to sustain inequality.

What sustains inequality is the collusion between politicians and the private sector.

From this emerges the toxic cocktail that results in labour and service delivery protests that often result in a loss of lives.

During the colonial and apartheid era, the collusion resulted in the murders of striking worker.

Nowadays, it results from the combination of the murder of workers (Marikana) and the bribery of politicians.

Bribing politicians is the most powerful method as it is simple and hardly attracts attention.

Generally, companies want a favourable environment to do business in and extract value.

What is favourable for companies may include lower wages and bad working and living conditions.

What is favourable for companies may not be in line with what politicians have promised poor voters – secure and decent jobs.

The politicians, through myriad laws, are expected to hold companies to account on a number of licence conditions. The right to grant or withdraw a business licence, to tax and to regulate resides with the governing elites.

To ease their operations and get away with murder – literally in some cases – some private sector companies resort to bribing politicians in a scheme that can be described as false share-holding.

This means the granting of shares to an undeserving individual whose only capital is the influential political position they hold.

Once a politician has been bribed, he or she is expected to do what they know best: calm the expectations of workers and assist in ensuring that a better life for workers remains a pipe dream.

A company can illustrate to the false shareholder, who has no say in the business, the risk to the value of his or her false shares in the event that the company is forced to comply with all legislation and demands by workers.

At this point the stomach does the listening.

The noble promises made to the poor and workers during elections are discarded.

The false shareholder, typically a high ranking official who lives in the land of honey and milk, cannot afford to sacrifice sweet dividends for lofty struggle ideals.

Because many companies need the services of such politicians to make more profits, there is a booming industry of false share-holding merchants.

These are the middlemen who negotiate deals between the politicians and the private sector.

The deal entails the politician serving as a guarantor to protect private investments from unfavourable regulations.

Now that it is election season, the false shareholders will be all over the country making promises to deal with the triple challenge of unemployment, inequality and poverty.

Voters will be expected to believe them.

Mpumelelo Mkhabela is editor of the Sowetan