Telling No Lies, claiming no easy victories?

Mark Gevisser – Businnes day 23 September 2008

IF THE goal of Thabo Mbeki’s resignation speech on Sunday night was to remind South Africans and the world at large what they will be missing when he goes, then he was successful. His is the type of leadership, he made clear, which is neither “gloomy” when it rains nor “triumphalist” when the sun shines.

How different it will be now, he implied, in an African National Congress (ANC) now ruled by passion and sentiment; by fire rather than logic.

Mbeki emphasised that he accepted the call to resign because he is a loyal and disciplined cadre of the ANC, to which he has belonged for 52 of his 66 years. He understates it: he was born into the ANC and suckled on it, all the more so because of the distance of his own biological family. Yesterday, Jacob Zuma reiterated Mbeki’s loyalty and discipline, and insisted that his firing was due to democratic process — with obvious pain, but with no rupture.

Of course this is not true. The ANC was manifestly driven by a desire for retribution, even if it was using the martial logic that blood must be let before order can be restored. And the only reason Mbeki went quietly was because he had no option. He knew that the alternative would be a bruising battle in Parliament — one that would do no good for his reputation or for the country’s stability, and would end up in his departure anyway.

In the case of an impeachment, his cabinet would have had to leave with him too, something he would not have wanted. This is not only because he lacks the instincts of the “blind Samson” to which Judge Chris Nicholson referred in his judgment, talking about Zuma; the will to pull everyone down with him if he goes. It is also because with key people such as Trevor Manuel (and possibly Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka) still in office, he will continue to wield significant influence. Whatever indication Mbeki might give to the contrary, his personality dictates that he will remain engaged in the workings of government. As was evidenced by his bid for a third term as ANC president, he is not easily able to let go of his life project, the modern South African state. Despite the inflamed passions of the ANC over the weekend, its cooler leaders must know this too — and must have decided they can live with it .

But if Mbeki remains involved behind the scenes in the running of the state — at least until the next election — will he also remain part of the ANC, as both he and Zuma have insisted? Zuma’s ode to democracy yesterday notwithstanding, both men understand the ANC as “family”. And in families blood ties remain, even when feuding leaves you estranged or alienated. This is an understanding of the movement that younger cadres such as Blade Nzimande, Zwelinzima Vavi and Julius Malema emphatically do not share, which is why they are less delicate about Mbeki and more willing to put the knife in publicly. But it is an understanding so fundamental to the likes of Mbeki, Zuma and Kgalema Motlanthe that there is a level on which Zuma actually meant it when he called his foe “my brother” at his press conference yesterday.

The power of blood means that it is almost unthinkable that Mbeki or comrades such as Joel Netshitenzhe or Essop Pahad would ever be part of a new political formation. And if they did, they would assert that their new party was actually the old one, perhaps by calling it ANC (Tambo) or the Real ANC, driven by the nostalgia for an imagined purer past, unsullied by the realpolitik of the moment. More likely, they will comfort themselves with the belief that they are the true bearers of the torch, usurped by rude parvenus who have no respect for the traditions of the movement.

This, of course, is what Mbeki said at Polokwane, in almost as many words. It was a spectacularly self-defeating performance: telling the people whose vote you were canvassing they were a rabble, a mob, when their impression of your haughtiness was the very reason they wanted to oust you in the first place.

On Sunday, Mbeki’s address carried the same message as his Polokwane speech, albeit implicitly this time, more appropriately clothed in the statesmanlike dignity of a farewell speech than it had been in a stump speech at the heat of battle. By enumerating the time-honoured values of the ANC — “ubuntu”, “selflessness”, “sacrifice”, “service” rather than individual desire — Mbeki was suggesting that these values have been abandoned in the way he has been treated. He even returned to ubuntu to underscore his point: “this means that we must behave in a manner that respects the dignity of every human being”.

Both Zuma and Mbeki have been at pains, in their statements over the past 48 hours, to insist on their respect for the rule of law and judicial process, Mbeki to the point of saying he abides by the Nicholson judgment even though he forcefully disagrees with it. But clearly, in his comments about “gratuitous suggestions … seeking to impugn” him and his cabinet, Mbeki believes he has not been dealt with in the dignified manner befitting the traditions of the ANC.

Mbeki’s resignation speech, then, was an attempt to reclaim dignity, by talking to his legacy and the values he holds dear, but which he was not always able to uphold, himself, during his tenure. He likes to judge himself according to a favourite dictum, Amilcar Cabral’s “Tell no lies, claim no easy victories”. In the way he spoke to his legacy on Sunday night, asserting his achievements but acknowledging the shortcomings with which his successors will have to grapple, he strove to achieve this.

But was he lying by saying, so emphatically, that he did not meddle in the workings of justice? Certainly, even if the inferences of Nicholson are successfully challenged, the odour of two incidents in particular will remain part of Mbeki’s legacy: Bulelani Ngcuka’s “prima facie” statement and Mbeki’s part in it, and the evidence of Vusi Pikoli before the Ginwala commission. The arms deal looms, too. For as long as the matter remains alive, Mbeki will be very much in the public eye.

Meanwhile, he will do what former presidents do: set up a foundation, work on his memoirs, join the global club of emeritus peace-brokers. Although the Zimbabwean peace has yet to be activated, his work there — and his status internationally — will probably enable him to lead a busy life.

Mbeki will not comment on Zuma for a while, just as Nelson Mandela retreated for a while, refraining from offering comment on Mbeki. But inevitably Mbeki will be drawn back into public life in SA, unable to prevent himself from noting the shortcomings of his successors — just as Mandela was unable to prevent himself from commenting on Mbeki, particularly around HIV/AIDS.

It remains to be seen whether Mbeki’s commentary on Zuma will be as contentious but as vitally remedial as Mandela’s was on Mbeki. But the odds are that it will be just as righteous. Just as Mandela said about Mbeki, Mbeki will say about Zuma: “This is not the ANC I grew up in. It has been usurped, and it needs to be returned to its roots.” One could hear the stirrings of this line, quietly but unmistakably, on Sunday night.

# Gevisser is the author of Thabo Mbeki: The Dream Deferred (Jonathan Ball).