Stripping revolution of moral authority

Is radical economic transformation a mirage or a declaration of an honest intent, I wondered days after President Jacob Zuma delivered the state of the nation address earlier this year.

Whilst appreciating the urgent need to rethink how we’ve sought to improve our economy, one doubted Zuma’s suitability to lead not only that introspection, but also to chart a new economic trajectory.

His conduct until then had made him an unlikely agent for that pioneering and altruistic endeavour.

What has subsequently happened has not only validated one’s concerns, but also sullied a legitimate idea.

Overhauling South Africa’s economy is an old aspiration within the liberation movement. It found initial expression in the Freedom Charter more than 60 years ago and has been repeated since.

The mention of nationalisation in the 1950s especially even triggered concerns within the ANC that it could be mistaken for a socialist party. In an article titled “In our lifetime” published in the newspaper Liberation in June 1956 Nelson Mandela felt it necessary to allay the concerns, but was unyielding on the necessity to break down the ownership structure of South Africa’s economy.

He wrote: “It is true that in demanding the nationalisation of the banks, the gold mine and the land the Charter strikes a fatal blow at the financial and gold-mining monopolies and farming interests that have for centuries plundered the country and condemned its people to servitude.

“But such a step is absolutely imperative and necessary because the realisation of the Charter is inconceivable, in fact impossible, unless and until these monopolies are first smashed up and the national wealth of the country is turned over to the people.”

Exiled years later and gathered at Tanzania’s eastern town of Morogoro in 1969, the ANC’s consultative conference reiterated its wish to “smash up” the monopolies that defined South Africa’s economy.

In its inaugural strategy and tactics document, the liberation movement wrote, for instance, that: “To allow the existing economic forces to retain their interests in tact is to feed the root of racial supremacy and does not represent even the shadow of liberation. Our drive towards national emancipation is therefore in a very real way bound up with economic emancipation.”

Even when nationalisation fell out of fashion in the mid-1990s, it couldn’t be buried permanently. South Africa’s persistent under-performance forced nationalisation back onto the table, especially at the ANC’s 2012 policy conference.

The question was how was it possible that a country with the largest deposits of some of the most precious minerals hardly processed any of them? Instead, this country continued as if it was still a colony, building “roads leading towards the sea” and improving ports in order to export its mineral resources.

Realising that the status quo was unsustainable, the policy conference, whilst eschewing outright nationalisation, opted for strategic intervention.

The idea is simply that you limit the export of some strategic minerals – such as platinum or polymers, among others – for beneficiation locally.

These are used to make parts for cars and plastic-based products.

Strategic intervention has not happened. Part of the reason is resistance from the privately owned mining industry. Presumably they’re more comfortable making profits from exports than undertaking the arduous exercise of expanding our secondary industry, which may entail reduced profits, but yield a much-needed boost to our economy.

The state has also been timid. It fears upsetting the apple-cart.

We had a stalemate of sorts, until Zuma declared himself the agent of radical economic transformation.

But Zuma has blemished a legitimate transformative project. He’s evidently not a genuine advocate of radical economic transformation.

We know this from his previous abuse of state resources and, lately, from the State of Capture report.

It took years to revive black economic empowerment, whilst Zuma’s family and friends were recipients of state largesse. For instance, Former Communications Minister Faith Muthambi and former SABC board chair Ben Ngubane have been rewarded with other appointments after overseeing the emptying of coffers at the public broadcaster.

Now board chair at Eskom, Ngubane most recently approved a R30-million golden handshake for Brian Molefe upon his resignation after a mere 18 months of disgraceful service at the parastatal.

Even the highly ineffective Minister of Public Enterprises Lynne Brown was prompted into the unusual action of speaking out against this feeding-frenzy.

All of these shenanigans strip all respectability from Zuma’s claim of shifting towards radical economic transformation.

A legitimate and urgent endeavour now resembles a sham.

Even the ANC’s communist ally has taken to ridiculing “radical economic transformation”. They lampoon it as “radical economic looting”. Communists fear that expressing the same phrase Zuma is disingenuously bandying about will cause them to lose respect in society.

We’re now likely to hear even fewer demands for (genuine) radical economic transformation from legitimate lobbies as they fear suffering infamy by association with Zuma.

This means we’re entering a phase of second guessing and self-censorship.

Opponents of economic transformation have consequently become emboldened. Finance Minister Malusi Gigaba’s economic adviser, Chris Malikane, is a victim of this emboldened resistance to fundamental change. Because Gigaba is considered a Gupta-proxy, arising from his mention in the State of Capture report, Malikane is viewed in a similar fashion.

Detractors were quick to dig into Malikane’s background hoping he was of the same ilk as the Gupta-linked advisers who showed up with Des van Rooyen at Treasury during his brief spell as finance minister in 2015.

They couldn’t come up with any dirt except for the document Malikane had written titled “Concerning the current situation”, which they brandished about as grounds for disqualifying his appointment as a ministerial adviser.

It’s not surprising that Malikane’s detractors could not find any dirt on him. A fine scholar and Marxist economist, Malikane is principled and ethical. He turned down a high paid job at a bank for a life of intellectual fulfilment and activism.

His alleged association with the Gupta family is manifestly false. Money has no hold over the man. Malikane’s “sin” is holding an advisory post in the ministry of finance as an avowed Marxist activist. His views are common among leftists. At some point even the ANC embraced some of the ideas championed by Malikane.

Speaking at an event hosted by Andile Mgxitama’s Black Land First outfit was a rare moment of foolishness on Malikane’s part. That organisation is both a mouthpiece and a defence unit for the Gupta’s Saxonwold compound. Mgxitama has no respect for the truth at all.

Attacks on Malikane are mischievous. This is not about a corrupt ministerial adviser, but a disingenuous attempt to silence contrarian ideas. Some have even approached Wits University vice-chancellor Adam Habib seeking to have Malikane fired.

One hopes Habib will continue to resist this clampdown on free expression by market fundamentalists. This is McCarthyism that parades as a self-righteous crusade against corruption.

What is equally worrisome is Gigaba’s posture as this ideological onslaught unfolds. The minister appears to be disowning Malikane for publicly expressing his views.

Gigaba must have known Malikane’s views before employing him. Malikane has held the same views since his days of student activism and expressed them in numerous academic writings, public engagements and the National Planning Commission.

Could it be that Malikane was appointed, not to aid genuine radical economic transformation, but to give a veneer of academic respectability to a sham?

It is possible. This presidency has hollowed any moral authority out of the transformation project.

What we’re witnessing unfolding is a betrayal of the revolution.

Mcebisi Ndletyana is associate professor of politics at the University of Johannesburg

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