I am probably more forgiving of President Cyril Ramaphosa than most readers of this newspaper. I think I understand why he can’t speak honestly about Phala Phala, for instance. And I often have sympathy for his relentless caution, as I share his sense that his position would become fragile very quickly were he more decisive.
Above all, I often enjoy the ways he finds to conceal the truth. What do I mean by this? Those who exercise state power dissemble and deflect. It comes with the turf. Anyone who thinks otherwise is living in a state of extraordinary naiveté. But this doesn’t mean everyone who exercises power is the same. Exactly how a leader dissembles matters a great deal. And when Ramaphosa dissembles I often find myself admiring him.
The president is very careful about how he conceals. He is, at his best, at pains not to paint an illusionary picture of the world, of power, of the ANC, even while he is shrouding the truth. And so, for instance, he will not deny that his party is riddled with corruption; he rarely says public institutions are working well; seldom does he insist the future is bright.
These things matter. A leader who shows his audience that he remains in touch with reality even while he is being less than honest, is offering it a measure of respect. He is bullshitting his people, but he is not insulting them. He is being less than frank, but he is not betraying trust.
The way Ramaphosa described the criminal justice system last week when he berated André de Ruyter for his now infamous interview on eNCA is upsetting in the extreme. “[De Ruyter] should have gone to any of our institutions with the information that he purports to have,” Ramaphosa said. “And believe you me‚ those institutions are very thorough‚ can be intrusive and can look at everything because that is how they are wired and geared up...”
It wouldn’t have mattered which criminal justice institution De Ruyter reported to, because the information would have made its way to a “fusion centre”. “Once it gets to the fusion centre there is just no way to escape accountability and that is where he (De Ruyter) should be going.”
To say my heart sank when I read those lines would be to understate things by some distance. The feeling was more deep despair. Who did the president think he was talking to? Is there anyone out there who recognises the SA criminal justice system he described? He crossed a line in that press conference, from bullshitting people to insulting them.
Perhaps it was a particularly bad day for the president. And perhaps this is a particularly bad time. Maybe next week or the week after he will revert to being a president who dissembles in a way one can admire.
But then again, perhaps what he said at that press conference is a sign that his presidency has entered a new phase. Phala Phala has weakened him immeasurably. He is so very needy now. From all four corners of the ANC, everyone is demanding their pound of flesh. At Gwede Mantashe’s behest he has pushed De Ruyter out. To please those in his cabinet who wish to rule by fiat, he has brought back some of the disaster powers they exercised during the Covid emergency. He is not his own man.
There is great irony in the fantasy Ramaphosa conjured in that press conference. When he came to office he assumed the justice system was still intact. All it needed, he thought, was an independent leadership that would roll up its sleeves and clear the corrupt from his own party. He would have to do no more than watch.
Had the justice system really been the one he described last week, he would be his party’s leader, not its servant. Nor would he be reduced to insulting his people. There was genuine cynicism in what he said. It is new and it is alarming.
• Steinberg teaches part-time at Yale University.
Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.