Nkosikhulule Nyembezi
CAPE TOWN - Let’s face it. The state of the nation address bores President Ramaphosa as much as he bored us while delivering it. All that time wasted talking about the state of the nation, when he really sounded to be talking about the state of a crumbling, faction-ridden ANC after a poor show in the last local government elections and ahead of its elective conference later this year.
Perhaps he could rebrand it in time for his final delivery next year, seeing that he might not get a second term as the party leader, something that could inevitably shorten his stay in Luthuli House and the Union Buildings.
The lack of a coherent implementation plan that corresponds with previous promises to address pressing challenges facing the nation, has been met with a mix of anger, disbelief, and concern in the various political circles.
Although a handful of political figures had been pessimistic ahead of the address, they were still taken aback by the fact the speech was thin on accountability for a wide range of promises made previously since he became president.
Ramaphosa’s leadership has been utterly flawless on this front of lack of a convincing record of achievement. You might even say unimpeachable.
He halted at the end of every half-line, as if surprised by the phrases and policies that followed. Almost like he was reading the speech from his prompter for the first time. Almost like he’s spent the last year dealing with factionalism in the ANC and disunity in cabinet instead of bringing people together or boning up about policy implementation to lift the country out of corruption and economic hardships.
Which helps explain his curious choice of reference to a distinguished guest: former president Thabo Mbeki, who shares his imminent predicament of humiliation, and has been sadly mistreated by many of his trusted comrades as a result.
He reflected on the past year by recalling the words of Mbeki reminding us that our strength as a people is not tested during the best of times, but during the worst of times.
The drama about inviting guests to a state of the nation is to open the aperture to the world outside. In Ramaphosa’s case, the world outside extends to people with the same credentials and suffering from his reputation lacking decisive leadership to take the nation into confidence that he is doing all he can to address poverty and inequality, and that he is putting the country above narrow party politics.
As ceremony and formality recede, politics returns. This time, parliament has been handed back its bruised responsibility to hold the president and the executive accountable for the exercise of their powers and the performance of their functions, and must decide what to do with it. Or else it will be held complacent for neglecting constitutional duties.
Enter the law of unintended consequences.
Recently, Ramaphosa has admittedly brought South Africa together in horror by presiding over a government whose “initial handling of the July 2021 events was inept”. This is a great responsibility that he was courageous enough to “acknowledge and accept”.
His hand gestures were expansive in ways that his policies obviously aren’t. His words were elastic in ways that his mind obviously isn’t.
After urging citizens to remain committed to rebuilding the country and protecting its democracy, he acknowledged that the nation has reached the point of no return regarding state capture: “We are engaged in a battle for the soul of the nation, and we will not be defeated. We are standing together against corruption and to ensure (that) those who are responsible for state capture will be punished for their crimes,” he said.
Ramaphosa said he will soon announce changes to the leadership of security agencies in response to the report by the task team panel on the July unrest. He said the government will, as recommended by the panel, develop and drive a national response plan to address the weaknesses that the panel has identified. He promised to begin immediately by filling critical vacancies and addressing positions affected by suspensions in the State Security Agency and Crime Intelligence. Not only that, but he committed that the government will soon be announcing leadership changes in several security agencies to strengthen our security structures.
You might say this state of the nation was breathtaking when he announced that South Africans who benefited from the R350 Covid-19 social relief of distress (SRD) grant can breathe a sigh of relief, as the government has decided to keep it going for another year.
Talking commitment to “strengthen our democracy and reaffirm our commitment to a Constitution that protects us all”, Ramaphosa pledged a new social compact within 100 days “to revitalise our economy”, and “end inequality and injustice” that impeded SA’s progress.
As rhyming slogans go, this one would be left behind is an average notch as he could have provided more details, instead of leaving the rest to the ministers to ensure it gains traction.
Without a trace of irony emanating from inaction in removing implicated ANC members from positions of power in line with the organisation’s step-aside policy and based on the state capture commission’s damning report, he told MPs he would respond to the report by the end of June.
Commendably, Ramaphosa announced that he made his decisive decision earlier this month when he “signed into law three new pieces of legislation, which has strengthened the criminal justice system, promoting accountability across the state and supporting survivors”.
He claimed that the implementation of this legislation “will go a long way to ensuring that cases are successfully prosecuted, that survivors are protected and that there are more effective deterrents in place”. The nation can collectively hope that he lives up to this promise.
But when he said the government has “made significant progress in reducing the backlog in DNA processing, reducing it from 210 000 exhibits in April 2021 to around 58 000 at present”, that minimised shortfall counted as a new wound to be healed at some indeterminate point in the future. At next year’s state of the nation, quite possibly.
Last Thursday, Parliament appeared to be reasserting, “Be ye never so high, the law is above you” to compel you to account for your inactions. Pay attention to the tone of the SONA debate. Only the short-term matters to the general population. The true maxim is: be you never so self-righteous, politics is above you. And this might be your last time to bore us with empty promises.
[It’s the morning after. Last Thursday, the SONA was a ball, at least for a third of the South African adult population able to participate in the country’s economic, social, and political life. But for the rest of the marginalised masses, it was like the indlamu dance – characteristic of its resembling aspects from war dances done by warriors where participants show up in full costume, demonstrate accurate timing, and perfect posture. Now, the real accountability battle must commence during the debate in parliament and beyond.]
Nyembezi is a policy analyst and a human rights activist
Cape Times