In 2002, after a violent pre-election campaign that claimed the lives of more than 100 opposition supporters, Zimbabweans voted in an unfair and unfree election after which Robert Mugabe and his Zanu-PF returned to power with a slim margin. Then president Thabo Mbeki appointed a judicial panel headed by Constitutional Court judge Sisi Khampepe to review the controversial election.
The Khampepe report confirmed what most observers, except Africa’s delegations, found: that the election was neither free nor fair. Mbeki, who was leading Africa’s efforts to resolve the worsening crisis in SA’s northern neighbour, read the report and then sealed its contents. After he was ousted in September 2008 his interim successor, Kgalema Motlanthe, followed suit, ensuring the report’s content never saw the light of day.
Jacob Zuma’s government also tried to keep the report under wraps. It was only in 2014 that the Constitutional Court ruled that the report should be released. By then it was too late for Zimbabwe’s much harassed opposition, led by the now late former trade unionist Morgan Tsvangirai, to do anything about the 2002 election, which is now widely believed to have been won by his Movement for Democratic Change (MDC). He was briefly co-opted into Mugabe’s administration, serving as its prime minister.
At the time, Mbeki’s administration argued that releasing the report might discourage officials, including judges, from accepting future assignments to provide unvarnished counsel to sitting presidents if they knew their advice would not be confidential.
Years later, SA is finding itself in the same dilemma. In May, under pressure from domestic opposition and Western capitals, President Cyril Ramaphosa appointed a judicial commission (correction: now to be called a panel), chaired by retired judge John Mojapelo, to probe allegations that the Lady R, a Russian vessel under Western sanctions, collected weapons in SA destined for the Russian army in its fight against Ukraine.
The allegations had been doing the rounds in political circles here and abroad since January, a few weeks after the vessel docked overnight at the Simon’s Town naval base in the Western Cape. The significance of the allegations is that, if true, they in effect change SA’s stance from its stated position of being nonaligned on the Russia-Ukraine conflict to being an involved player that can hardly aspire to the role of honest broker.
Attempts by the defence ministry to quash the allegations have failed. Ordinarily, the word of customs and defence officials communicated with the country’s commander-in-chief of the armed forces would settle the matter. It hasn’t. Nor has a damage-control mission led by politician-turned-academic Sydney Mufamadi to defuse the tension with Washington. Instead, Reuben Brigety, the US ambassador to SA, chose to go public with these allegations.
When the opposition DA confronted him in parliament, the president promised an investigation by a retired judge. This, plus a speedy inquiry, promised to buy him some time to figure out his next move. But that next move has pushed him further into a corner with the threat of litigation by multiple opposition parties. At the weekend his office disclosed that the terms of reference of the two-week inquiry, most likely a simple review of documents, will not be gazetted. Also, the inquiry will not be public, and its findings will not be made public. Reason: it will be dealing with national security issues and classified information that requires state protection.
This does not make sense. In the late 1990s, under pressure from opposition parties, the ANC government asked state agencies — the public protector, auditor-general and national director of public prosecutions — to investigate allegations of corruption in the procurement of arms from foreign suppliers. The inquiry found no corruption in the main contracts with the state, and the same deal later became the subject of the Seriti judicial commission of inquiry, which has since been discredited by the high court.
Three collateral casualties from the arms deal were Schabir Shaik, Zuma’s erstwhile financial adviser; former ANC MP Tony Yengeni; and Zuma himself. While Yengeni and Shaik served brief prison terms, Zuma is only getting to face trial now after two decades of delays. The arms deal, which saw Mbeki hauled before the Seriti inquiry, was not the only investigation to look into strategically sensitive state matters.
During his term of office Ramaphosa appointed two “panels” to look into matters that laid bare the inadequacies of law enforcement agencies, including state security: one was the Mufamadi panel into the affairs of the State Security Agency, and the other the Sandy Africa-led panel that looked into the state’s handling of the July 2021 mayhem. Both panels’ reports, versions of which were published, made unflattering observations about the state’s capacity to protect South Africans.
Also, during the Zondo state capture commission, the government did not stop intelligence officials from testifying in public hearings. All these cases raise questions: why the need for secrecy now; who leaned on the president for secrecy; and how bad are the skeletons from Lady R?
The DA has already declared its intention to litigate Ramaphosa’s secrecy bid, which is likely to mark the start of a nightmare build-up to next year’s general election. The president’s immediate challenge will be to deal with the litigation while defending the credibility of a secret report. In the medium to long term this undermines his credentials as the champion of a transparent, sleaze-free administration.
• Dludlu, a former Sowetan editor, is CEO of the Small Business Institute.
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.