May 8 2026; December 1 2022. Same same, but very different.
Four years ago President Cyril Ramaphosa was dealt a devastating blow. Late the previous night the independent panel chaired by former chief justice Sandile Ngcobo had concluded there was enough prima facie evidence of a serious violation of the law and/or serious misconduct to justify a parliamentary “impeachment” process under section 89 of the constitution.
On Friday, Ramaphosa received a similar setback when the Constitutional Court ruled the National Assembly vote on December 13 2022, which brought the impeachment process to a shuddering halt, was constitutionally invalid, and the president should face the scrutiny of a parliamentary impeachment committee.
Here’s the difference: in 2022 Ramaphosa was “tired and hurt” and his first instinct was to fall on his sword. The next day was spent preparing for his resignation announcement as some allies sought — successfully in the end — to persuade him to fight on.
As on December 1 2022, a TV slot was booked for Ramaphosa to address the nation on Monday night. But this time resignation was never a serious option.
His defiance in the face of political opposition was absolutely clear on Monday night. The EFF won in court, but Ramaphosa has no intention of ending his long political career by handing the party a political victory on a plate.
We should be grateful for this. Often the “need to maintain stability” is prayed in aid of an unwise attempt to cling on to power. We certainly live in uncertain times, and if Ramaphosa were to have resigned — which was the chief objective of the EFF — it would have opened up a can of worms.
The EFF won in court, but Ramaphosa has no intention of ending his long political career by handing the party a political victory on a plate. We should be grateful for this.
Consider this likely chain reaction: deputy president Paul Mashatile would have immediately become acting president; the DA would probably have left the government of national unity either on its own volition or at Mashatile’s, creating space for the EFF to join in sooner or later, threatening the country’s turnaround under Ramaphosa’s steady, reforming hand.
Remember: when the initial deal was struck to share power back in June 2024 after the last national election, the DA made it a condition that Ramaphosa remain as president and DA federal chair, Helen Zille, made it clear that as far as she and her party were concerned they not only wanted to deal only with Ramaphosa, but that the impeachment matter had been buried by the last parliament once and for all.
You can draw your own conclusions about this, but the constitutional court has held that the impeachment matter is very much alive and kicking. Which brings one to a very important legal point, amid the swirling political claims and counter-claims.
Between December 13 2022 and May 8 2026 Ramaphosa’s judicial review challenge to the independent panel report was entirely moot. Understandably, he dropped the matter, explicitly reserving his right to revive it should it become necessary. It is now very necessary.
In this respect nothing has changed from four years ago: the panel’s report is as defective now as it was then, with fundamental errors in law and in the application of the law to the facts, leading the panel to make unjustified findings.
Among other things, the panel confused prima facie with its legal duty to find “sufficient evidence” of serious violations or law or serious misconduct — a far higher bar.
Is Ramaphosa evading responsibility and is the principle of accountability being denuded by his decision to challenge the panel’s report?
No. It would be an even greater abrogation of constitutional responsibility to resign on the basis of a flawed foundation — the panel report — meaning, in turn, the parliamentary impeachment committee process must now be paused, in line with the Constitutional Court’s view, expressed in paragraph 139 of the judgment, that the panel report should be referred to the impeachment committee unless or until the panel report is set aside by the court, which is precisely what Ramaphosa is seeking to achieve now.
Margaret Thatcher in 1990 springs to mind. As the pressure mounted on her premiership, much like it has now squeezed the political life out of Keir Starmer, she left an EU meeting in Paris vowing to stay in power.
“I fight on. I fight to win,” she famously said. In London, however, she was met by the ‘men in grey suits’ who came to tell her that it was time to go, and she resigned the next day.
Ramaphosa has not been met by any grey suits – at least not yet.
There does not appear to be any appetite for an early transition of power within the ANC’s leadership structures, despite, or perhaps because of, Mashatile’s impatience to get into the Union Buildings. And so Ramaphosa will, indeed, fight on, and like the proverbial political tortoise I have come to recognise him to be, continue to win in the end.
• Calland is emeritus associate professor in public law at the University of Cape Town and a partner at political economy advisory The Paternoster Group.







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