Constitutional Hill

DA

On race and sex and unexamined assumptions

The reaction from many people to a poster released by the Democratic Alliance Youth (DASO), in which they tried to make a point about the importance of trying to achieve a non-racial society in South Africa, is rather amusing and also quite revealing.

On the one side you have the lunatics (sorry Gareth!) like Connie van der Walt who wrote that if the guy in this picture was her son she would “shoot him dead like a bad dog”. On the other hand, there are those who interpret the poster as subliminally racist, either because it depicts a white and black person in an intimate pose at all, or because (slightly more plausibly) it depicts a white man and a black woman in an intimate pose.

Others have, of course, been outraged by the “disgusting pornography” of it all, given the fact that the two people in the poster appear to be naked from the waist up. (The people who pretend to be shocked by a mild poster like this, are probably not familiar with real pornography and would probably not make good classifiers at the Film and Publications Board.)

What is going on here? I believe (and I would, would I not?), these reactions demonstrate a few revealing things about our communal attitude towards race, sex and gender.

First, it seems to me that these reactions demonstrate the obvious fact that certain opponents of race-based affirmative action, who argue that we should not rely on racial categories when we devise measures to address the effects of past and on-going racial discrimination, are wrong. These critics argue that racial classifications are always morally repugnant, that it is in any case not always easy to determine what the race of a person is, that people who embrace non-racialism might not even see race at all, and that redress can be achieved without invoking such categories as people suffer disadvantage not because of their race but only because of their lack of access to financial and other resources.

I think the poster is rather clever (although DASO probably did not think about this) because no one who sees it will be able to deny that they noticed that the man and the woman in the poster look, well, “different” from each other. How we respond to it will of course depend on our deeply held (and perhaps unexamined or unknown) views on race and sex. We might see a white man once again exploiting a black women (despite the fact that the two people look more or less the same age and are both beautiful), or we might see two heterosexuals who are going to get a lot of flak from their parents, or (I confess this was my first thought) we might wonder whether the white guy is actually going to take his girlfriend home and whether he will one day marry her.

Given this obvious fact, how do people continue to assert that race has stopped mattering in South Africa and that most well-adjusted middle class (white?) people never see race anymore? How can we maintain the fiction that when a black person and a white person apply for the same job, we do not take any notice of the race of the applicants – unless we are forced to do so because of the requirements of affirmative action?

The poster reminds us that (as I have written before):

race hovers not far from the surface in private or other everyday settings: as an unspoken presence, a (wrongly) perceived absence or as a painful, confusing, liberating or oppressive reality in social, economic or other – more intimate – interactions between individuals or between groups of individuals. In South Africa we cannot escape race. We cannot escape our own race. Even when we claim that we have escaped the perceived shackles of race, we are merely confirming its presence by our stated yearning for its absence. And because of this we cannot claim that race does not matter when we talk about redress.

Second, the poster reminds us that many people (of all races) have internalised an apartheid mind-set regarding race, sex and gender and are utterly incapable of seeing intimacy between two people of different races and sexes in anything but starkly racial and gender stereotypical terms. Thus they claim that the poster reflects a racist and/or sexist mind-set because it depicts a white man (a man being the person who supposedly “is always in charge” in a sexual interaction) with a black woman (who is supposedly “always submissive” and to some extent the victim of the man’s sexual aggression).

To such people the thought never seems to have occurred that the women in the poster could be in charge (in charge emotionally, financially and/or physically) and that we cannot tell from the poster whether this is so or not. They have jumped to conclusions (based on their own internalised prejudices and stereotypical assumptions about race and gender and sex) that the woman in the poster is a meek receptor of male aggression. Maybe some have done so because the poster originated with the DA and in that context they are prepared to expect that the DA shares these racial, sexual and gender prejudices. But I would guess most did so because of their own prejudices of which they might not be aware – and not because of their view of the DA.

Lastly, the poster reminds us that many South Africans have internalised a notion of sexuality which has its origins in Judeo-Christian culture. We might call ourselves “Africans” but we often think about sex like modern day Christian missionaries. The assumption underlying the Judeo-Christian tradition is – as Susan Sontag has argued – that a person can be judged as “good” or “bad” (in other words, that a person can be judged as moral or immoral) almost exclusively based on that person’s sexual desires and/or conduct.

Sex is therefore always viewed as a “special case”. While we may not be judged for letting a man starve, we will be judged for wanting to sleep with that man. While a person (of whatever race) may therefore think of him or herself as having no racial prejudices, these prejudices might be flushed out when confronted with a poster that hints at sex between two people of different races. Seeing a black woman in the arms of a white man, the person recoils, either because the picture evokes (in the mind of the racist) unspeakable immoral couplings between the two, or because it evokes (in the mind of the person infected by colonial ideas) images of sexual exploitation of a black woman by a white man.

Leaving aside the white racists, many people would not recoil if he or she saw a picture of black man and a white woman sitting next to each other around a boardroom table. But when they see this picture, they do recoil instinctively because sex, somehow, is different. How ironic that they might then produce arguments that might sound progressive, arguments about the exploitation of black woman, while they are justifying the prejudices which they carry with them, prejudices that can be considered as one of the “special gifts” bestowed on indigenous South Africans by the colonial culture.

Which brings me to the second poster of the DA Youth depicted in this post. What, I wonder, would the reaction be to this poster of two men of different races? Would the same people who recoil at seeing a white man in an intimate situation with a black woman feel comfortable with two men of different races in an intimate situation? If they do not recoil, does this say something about how we construct woman as necessarily passive, powerless and meek? If they do recoil, do they know that their minds have been colonised by the ideas first brought to South Africa by white missionaries? I wonder…

Can Mbeki make a comeback?

If some journalists are to be believed, former President Thabo Mbeki is on the comeback trial. Yearning, perhaps, for a President who can do more than sing and dance and fire cabinet ministers (someone who can construct a coherent and seemingly plausible argument; who can engage in a provocative — if pseudo-intellectual and misguided — manner with the issue of the ”democratisation of knowledge“; who can launch scathing attacks against those who have been a bit too uppity or have insisted on confronting him with unpleasant facts; who can produce memorable phrases like “the “fishers of corrupt men” to signal his disdain of the views of others) many South Africans suddenly seem to be missing our former President.

If I have time in the next few days, I will critique former President Mbeki’s latest attempt at justifying his flirtation with Aids denialism and his unique interpretation of Muammar Gadaffi’s “peaceful” nature.  Recall for the time being that Gadaffi had warned Libyans rising up against his rule (people he called “rats and cats”, who were “drugged cockroaches”),  to hand over  weapons or “we will announce the holy march, I will call on millions from one desert to another to cleanse Libya house by house…”

But today I wish to raise an interesting point of constitutional law. Although it is never going to happen, I have been asked what would the legal position be if Thabo Mbeki is re-elected as ANC President at the end of the year. Would he be able to return as President of the country, given the fact that he never served a full second term as President?

Section 88(2) of the Constitution states that no person may hold office as President for more than two terms. The section does not say that a President cannot serve more than two consecutive terms, which means the Putin option is not available to a South African President who has served two full terms. A President can therefore not serve two terms, then do something else for five years, only to return to serve as the President for another 10 years after that.

But here is where things get murky. The ban on serving more than two terms as President is qualified by a sub-clause contained in section 88(2), which states that when a person is elected to fill a vacancy in the office of President, the period between that election and the next election of a President is not regarded as a term. Where a President is therefore elected as President after a general election, but then resigns or is fired by the National Assembly and is replaced by another President, the new President will serve the rest of the five year term without that part of the term counting as one of his two terms in terms of section 88(2).

This means that although Kgalema Motlanthe served as President after the removal of Mbeki, he did so to fill a vacancy in the office of the President and he would thus still be able to serve two full terms as President — were he ever to be elected as President of the ANC.

Although Mbeki did not serve a full second term, the wording of section 88(2) seems to be rather specific and does not allow a President who was elected after a general election and was then removed as President during his second term or resigned as President during his second term, to serve another (in effect, third) term later on.

There is a good reason for this. A President is not directly elected, but is rather elected by the members of the National Assembly. In terms of section 102(2) of the Constitution, the majority of members of the National Assembly can also fire a President and his or her cabinet for any reason they wish. For example, they can fire an aloof President who had lost the election for the ANC leadership — as they would have done with Mbeki if he had not resigned after being “recalled” by the ANC.

The majority party in the National Assembly can therefore dictate who must serve as President and had section 88(2) been phrased differently, the leader of that party would have been able to manipulate the support of his party MP’s to hold on to the Presidency indefinitely by a bit of crookery. If section 88(2) had provided that a President who had resigned before the end of his or her term would be assumed not to have served a term as President for the purposes of section 88, it would have opened the door for a President to serve for as long as his party wished him to serve as President.

All that a serving President would have had to do to achieve this, would have been to resign one month before the end of his or her second term — only to be re-elected for another “second” term after the next election. This is why section 88(2) disregards the part of a Presidential term served by a President taking over from an elected President during the five year life of a Parliament, but does not allow a President elected right after an election to discount his or her term served if he or she resigned or was fired before the expiry of a second term. However, the system can still be tricked, as a President who wished to serve more than two terms and who planned ahead could have another person elected as Presdident after the general election, only to replace that President after a month or two. This would, however, require blind support from his or her party and some foresight.

All this means that Mbeki can never serve as President of the country again — unless the Constitution is amended. This seems very unlikely, not only because the ANC would probably not agree to it, but also because the party does not have a two-thirds majority in Parliament (unlike in the days of Mbeki) and would probably not be able to persuade smaller parties to support such an amendment.

This does not mean, of course, that theoretically speaking, Mbeki could not be re-elected as President of the ANC. The ANC Constitution does not prohibit this. Neither does the Constitution require the President of the country also to be the leader of the majority party in Parliament (a situation that seems to differ from that of the Leader of the Opposition).

Of course, where the President of the majority party does not serve as President of the country (even when he or she is entitled to do so), the authority of the President and his or her executive may well be fatally compromised and the constitutional system may well take severe strain. In such a situation, the danger is that very little real power will be exercised within the formal constitutional structures like the Presidency and the executive. As we all know after the firing of Mbeki, it is the President of the majority party and the other leaders of the majority party who decide who serves as President, then instructs the members of the National Assembly to elect or fire whomever is necessary to give effect to this decision.

This situation will aggravate a problem that is inherent in our constitutional design. Although the President is supposedly accountable to Parliament and is elected and can be fired by the Assembly, in reality the President is accountable only to his or her political party and it’s leadership, who can decide who serves in Parliament and can also fire the members of their party as members of Parliament if they refuse to follow instructions from the party leadership. Where a President is not the leader of his or her party, the party will almost certainly try to remote-control the President and this might well lead to a further conflation of the ruling party, constitutional institutions like the Presidency, and the state.

This is also why I am no great fan of the current DA arrangement where its leader serves as the Premier of a province and a member of the Assembly is elected by the party to serve as Leader of the Opposition. Section 57(2)(d) of the Constitution states that the rules of the National Assembly must provide for “the recognition of the leader of the largest opposition party in the Assembly as the Leader of the Opposition”.

Helen Zille is the “leader of the largest opposition party in the Assembly”, yet Lindiwe Mazibuko serves as Leader of the Opposition. There are two problems with this. First, it is unclear to what extent Zille controls the Leader of the Opposition (and to what extent she did so with the two previous DA “leaders” who had served as Leader of the Opposition in Parliament). Second, it is far from clear that somebody who is not the leader of the largest opposition party in parliament can serve as Leader of the Opposition at all.

Section 57(2)(d) of the Constitution can be read as prohibiting anyone other than the actual leader of the largest political party in the Assembly serving in the role Mazibuko is serving in. Mazibuko might therefore very well not officially and lawfully be Leader of the Opposition at all as that title and role might well be reserved by the Constitution for the actual leader of the DA – Helen Zille.

In any event, these issues once again remind us that our Constitution has failed to regulate the relationship between political parties and their elected representatives in the legislature and the executives (at both national and provincial levels). This means that the power of the President or of Premiers vis-a-vis that of the leadership of the political parties they lead, will differ widely, depending on how tight a grip the President or a Premier has on his party. Where the President has no grip whatsoever — as seems the case with Jacob Zuma – the party leadership (in the case of the ANC that would often be Gwede Mantashe) will often act as the power behind the throne, but without having to worry about any of the checks and balances built into the constitutional system.

The ANC’s centenary celebrations and internal party democracy

The African National Congress (ANC) celebrated its 100th birthday this weekend with such revolutionary pursuits as a golf day and a prayer service. At the end of a huge mass rally on Sunday Deputy President Kgalema Motlanthe proposed a toast and told the (by then half-empty) stadium that if they did not have champagne, they could take photographs of their leaders drinking, or raise clenched fists. “The leaders will now enjoy the champagne, and of course they do so on your behalf through their lips,” he said.

The ANC has a lot to celebrate and feel proud about (especially about its past), but the quality of its current leaders drinking champagne on that stage (and, directly related to this) the manner in which such leaders are elected, are not part of that which the organanisation can feel proud of. No wonder President Jacob Zuma announced that “the ANC will renew its internal systems and processes in order to prepare and produce new generations of leadership for our country, whose integrity and passion to serve our country is unquestionable”.

The same noises about changes to the internal election procedures of the ANC were made four years ago and nothing came of it, but there is surely an urgent need to address the manner in which party leaders are elected in the ANC – and given recent problems with internal party elections in the Democratic Alliance (DA), also in that political party - to make these processes more democratic and to try and insulate the processes from corruption and the influence of money.

This is important not only for the health of the ANC (and other political parties like the DA) but also for our democracy as a whole. Given the fact that our pure proportional representation electoral system does not allow us to directly elect any public representatives at the national or provincial levels (we can only vote for a party, never for a person), the Mandarins at Shell House might want to consider amendments to the process of electing leaders that would make such elections more transparent and bring them more in line with the democratic values of openness, accountability and transparency set out in the founding provisions of our Constitution.

However, neither the ANC nor the DA had shown an appetite before for developing binding legal rules to force political parties to adhere to minimum standards of internal democracy.  A few years ago when I suggested at an Idasa event that our Parliament should adopt a political party law that regulates the funding of political parties as well as prescribes minimum requirements for internal party democracy for the election of leaders and of representatives to our various legislatures, the then DA Chief Whip, Douglas Gibson, was not amused and accused me of wanting to impose a North Korean style system on South Africa.

Instead of starting to cry like a North Korean, I wrote the following email to Mr Gibson the next day which remains pertinent for this debate:

Last night at the Idasa event on the working of Parliament I asked whether political parties in South Africa would be prepared to consider the adoption of a party law that would, inter alia, regulate the way in which candidates are selected to stand for public office. You replied that this was unacceptable and never happens in any democracy – “only in countries like North Korea”. I thought it might be interesting for you to know that many countries do have party laws, including Germany, Argentina, Mexico, South Korea and as far as I can tell at least 40 others.

In Germany Article 17 of the Party law of 1967 (last amended in 1994) states that: “The nomination of candidates for election to all levels of government must be by secret ballot. The nomination procedure shall be as prescribed by the electoral laws and party statutes.”

Article 21 of the electoral law further regulates the matter as follows:

“(1) A person may only be named as a candidate of a party in a constituency nomination if he or she has been elected for this purpose at a members’ assembly convened to elect a constituency candidate or at a special or general delegates’ assembly. A members’ assembly convened to elect a constituency candidate shall be an assembly of members of the party who at the time of their meeting are eligible to vote in the German Bundestag election in their constituency. A special delegates’ assembly shall be an assembly of the delegates elected by such an assembly of members from their own ranks. A general delegates’ assembly shall be a general assembly appointed in accordance with the statutes of the party (Article 6 of the Law on Political Parties) by such an assembly of members from their own ranks in view of forthcoming elections.

… (5) Further details regarding the election of delegates for the delegates’ assembly, the convening and the quorum of the members’ or delegates’ assemblies as well as the procedure for the election of the candidate shall be set forth in the parties’ statutes.

 (6) A copy of the record of the election of the candidate, with details of where and when the assembly took place, the form of the invitation, the number of members present and the result of the ballot shall be submitted with the constituency nomination. In so doing, the chairperson of the assembly and two members present designated by it shall give the District Returning Officer an assurance in lieu of an oath to the effect that the election of the candidate was by secret ballot. The District Returning Officer shall be responsible for accepting such an assurance in lieu of an oath; he shall be considered an authority within the meaning of Article 156 of the Penal Code.

Your assertion regarding North Korea was therefore slightly off the mark.

These provisions illustrate that legislation may well be adopted in a democracy (especially one with some form of proportional representation electoral system) to set minimum standards and criteria for the election of party representatives in the various legislatures, but leaves it open to each political party to arrange their elections in accordance with their own character and traditions within the confines of these minimum standards. There is nothing that prevents such a law also from applying to the election of party leaders.

Such a law will have little effect, however, if it does not regulate the funding of the internal election campaigns of party leaders and if it does not require transparency in the funding of such campaigns and if it does not prohibit influence buying by large corporations or unscrupolous individuals trying to land huge government tenders.

To this day we do not know who financed Jacob Zuma’s campaign to be elected President of the ANC. Was this campaign funded by thousands of small donations by ANC members eager to see the back of Thabo Mbeki, or was it funded by people like the late Muammar Gaddafi of Libya or by Angola’s President Jose Eduardo dos Santos (as some rumours would have it)? Did Roux Shabangu or other tenderpreneurs contribute to this campaign and was Jacob Zuma beholden to these financiers when he eventually became President? Did the Gupta’s have any role in financing President Zuma and his campaigns and if so, what were they hoping to get out of it?

We simply do not know answers to these questions because there are absolutely no legal rules that bind political parties and potential leaders in those parties to reveal the sources of funding used for either internal leadership campaigns or for political party electoral campaigns in general.

If the ANC is serious about renewing its internal systems of leadership elections and if it wishes to become more democratic and to empower ordinary ANC members to have a more decisive say in leadership elections, it will have to address the influence of money on such elections as a priority and will also open up leadership contests and debates to general scrutiny and debate (as has been suggested by Julius Malema). One way of doing so is by passing a law that prescribes minimum criteria for such elections in the manner similar to that applicable in Germany.

Will the ANC bite the bullet and address this elephant in the room? My guess is that too many people with too much money and power have too much to lose from a change in the rules and from a legally enforced transparent system of leadership and public representative elections. But who knows, maybe the ANC will be overcome with a sudden attack of principle and will do the right thing after all. Or maybe a majority of ANC leaders will not act in a principled way but will nevertheless realsie that opening up leadership elections will weaken the incumbent President and his campaign for a second term and will proceed to do the right thing for the wrong reasons?

“No one is above the law”

In commenting on the (re-)appointment by President Jacob Zuma of Mr Willem Heath as the head of the Special Investigating Unit (SIU), an editorial in Business Day this morning notes that President Jacob Zuma has acted consistently ”to draw around him an iron ring of men he relies on to keep him safe. South Africa and its interests are not part of this particular calculation. The fact that the fraud and corruption charges against him, expediently dropped before the last general election, could quite easily be resuscitated is at the centre of everything he does”.

Part of this pattern was the appointment, early in his tenure as President, of Adv. Menzi Simelane as National Director of Public Prosecution (NDPP). The abolition of the Scorpions and the creation of the far less independent Hawks can similarly be seen as an attempt to protect the President from future prosecution for taking a bribe from fraudster Shabir Shaik.

President Zuma’s recent statement that the executive ”has the sole discretion to decide policies for the government”, that the executive “must be allowed to conduct its administration and policy-making work as freely as it … can” and that the “powers conferred on the courts cannot be regarded as superior to the powers resulting from a mandate given by the people in a popular vote”, can thus arguably be read as an expression of concern about the Constitutional Court’s decision to torpedo the Hawks, and the resultant dismantling of parts of the iron ring President Zuma had erected around himself to protect himself from prosecution for corruption.

It is against this background that today’s judgment of the Supreme Court of Appeal (SCA) declaring the appointment of Menzi Simelane unlawful, must be read. In Democratic Alliance v President of the Republic of South Africa and Others a unanimous court, in a judgment authored by judge Mahommed Navsa (Heher, Mhlantla, Majiedt JJA and Plasket AJA concurring) the SCA found that the President had acted irrationally and hence unlawfully when he appointed Simelane as NDPP and acted in breach of the prescripts of the Constitution and section 9(1)(b) of the National Prosecuting Authority Act 32 of 1998.

Perhaps believing that it was required to provide the President with some pointers on the nature of a constitutional democracy like ours, the SCA pointed out that ours is a democratic state founded, amongst other values, on the supremacy of the Constitution and the rule of law. Section 1(d) of the Constitution commits government to democracy and to accountability, responsiveness and openness. Section 2 of the Constitution reaffirms that the Constitution is the supreme law of the Republic and that law or conduct inconsistent with it is invalid and that the obligations imposed by it must be fulfilled. Thus, every citizen and every arm of government ought rightly to be concerned about constitutionalism and its preservation.

This meant that  the President, as the supreme upholder and protector of the Constitution, is its servant. Like all other organs of state, the President is obliged to obey each and every one of its commands. In what could be read as an indirect response to the recent statements of President Zuma, the SCA then proceeded to make the following powerful observation:

No-one is above the law and everyone is subject to the Constitution and the law. The legislative and executive arms of government are bound by legal prescripts. Accountability, responsiveness and openness are constitutional watchwords. It can rightly be said that the individuals that occupy positions in organs of state or who are part of constitutional institutions are transient but that constitutional mechanisms, institutions and values endure. To ensure a functional, accountable constitutional democracy the drafters of our Constitution placed limits on the exercise of power. Institutions and office bearers must work within the law and must be accountable. Put simply, ours is a government of laws and not of men or women.

The SCA pointed out that institutions of state integral to the well-being of a functioning democracy have to be above reproach, have to be independent and have to serve the people without fear, favour or prejudice. Given the fact that the NPA has “awesome powers” and “that it is central to the preservation of the rule of law”, it is imperative that members of the NPA exercise these powers with the utmost integrity. That must mean that the people employed by the prosecuting authority must themselves be people of integrity who will act without fear, favour or prejudice.

The SCA again reminded us that in the Certification judgment the Constitutional Court stated that section 179(4) of the Constitution provides that the national legislation must ensure that the prosecuting authority exercises its functions without fear, favour or prejudice. “There is accordingly a constitutional guarantee of independence [of the NPA], and any legislation or executive action inconsistent therewith would be subject to constitutional control by the courts.”

This is why the NPA Act requires that the NDPP must, inter alia “be a fit and proper person, with due regard to his or her experience, conscientiousness and integrity, to be entrusted with the responsibilities of the office concerned.” This was an objective standard. The President could not decide, based on his own personal views and disregarding all the available evidence, that his choice for NDPP was “fit and proper”.

This is so because the relevant section of the NPA Act does not use the expression “in the President’s view” or some other similar expression. Qualities like “integrity” must be assessed objectively. A person would have integrity if he or she possesses characteristics like‘honesty, principle, honour, virtue, goodness, morality, purity, righteousness, probity, rectitude, truthfulness, trustworthiness, incorruptibility, uprightness, scrupulousness, reputability.

In the light of the above the President was required to obtain sufficient and reliable information about the candidate’s past work experience and performance; to obtain sufficient and reliable information about the candidate’s integrity and independence; and in cases where the candidate is the subject of allegations calling his fitness to hold office into question, a satisfactory process to determine the veracity of the allegations in a reliable and credible fashion.

In this case the starting point of the President was wrong. The Minister of Justice had stated that the President told him, at the outset, before asking for his input, that the President had “firm views” on appointing Mr Simelane as NDPP. The President could not argue, as he did, that absent any firm evidence to the contrary he could conclude that Simelane was fit and proper. More was required from the President to comply with the law.

This would especially be the case in a situation like the one under review where serious findings of impropriety had been made by the Ginwala Enquiry and by a court of law against the President’s choice of NDPP.

A fundamental problem for the Minister and the President is that they both considered that the GE [Ginwala Enquiry] report was irrelevant or, based on a rigid view that the GE enquired into Mr Pikoli’s fitness for office and did not concern Mr Simelane’s integrity. It is clear from the President’s account of the discussion with the Minister and from his description of his mindset…. that he took the view that the GE report, insofar as it related to Mr Simelane, was a note of precaution to the National Executive, the NPA and Parliament and that it was not a report intended to have Mr Simelane disqualified for future appointments. The President and the Minister wrongly discounted Minister Surty’s serious concerns about the Ginwala report and its impact on Mr Simelane. So too they were too easily dismissive of the PSC’s [Public Service Commission's] attitude in this regard. It ought also to have been a matter of concern that the GCB had been poised to enquire into Mr Simelane’s conduct ─ it is a matter that would directly affect public perception about his candidacy. It is not unlikely that the GCB probe ground to a halt because of the ensuing litigation.

The Ginwala Enquiry report was directly relevant to the questions required to be addressed in the appointment process. They bring his integrity directly into question. They were issues of serious concern to Minister Surty, with whom the PSC agreed. There may well be answers forthcoming from Mr Simelane on the issues raised by the GE report, but at the very least they required interrogation.

The Minister and the President therefore both made material errors of fact and law in the process leading up to the appointment of Mr Simelane. This speaks to both rationality and legality. The President is required to act in good faith and must not misconstrue his powers. In failing to take the findings of the Ginwala Enquiry into account, the President took a decision in respect of which he ignored relevant considerations. By doing so he misconstrued his powers and acted irrationally.

It is clear that the President did not undertake a proper enquiry of whether the objective requirements of the NPA Act were satisfied. In fact, “on the available evidence the President could in any event not have reached a conclusion favourable to Mr Simelane, as there were too many unresolved questions concerning his integrity and experience”.

The SCA concluded its judgment by responding to the view expressed by the President that he was “the choice of the people. The Constitution vests in him the power to apply his value judgment and appoint a NDPP who meets the objective criteria and is a fit and proper person to hold such office.” This view implies that because the President was democratically elected he had the right to choose anyone he wished as head of the NDPP and to determine whether the requirements for a NDPP prescribed in the NPA Act was met. It mirrors previous statements made by the President about the separation of powers doctrine. The SCA dismissed this view by quoting former Chief Justice Ishmael Mahommed.

“The legislature has no mandate to make a law which transgresses the powers vesting in it in terms of the Constitution. Its mandate is to make only those laws permitted by the Constitution and to defer to the judgment of the court, in any conflict generated by an enactment challenged on constitutional grounds. If it does make laws which transgress its constitutional mandate or if it refuses to defer to the judgment of the court on any challenge to such laws, it is in breach of its own mandate. The court has a constitutional right and duty to say so and it protects the very essence of a constitutional democracy when it does. A democratic legislature does not have the option to ignore, defy or subvert the court. It has only two constitutionally permissible alternatives, it must either accept its judgment or seek an appropriate constitutional amendment if this can be done without subverting the basic foundations of the Constitution itself.” These statements are beyond criticism and apply equally when actions or decisions by the executive are set aside.

The judgment could therefore be read as engaging in a dialogue with the executive about the power of the judiciary vis-a-vis the executive. It reminds the President that he is not above the law and that he cannot ignore the law or the judgments of the courts enforcing the law.

I would guess that the judgment would not go down well with President Zuma and others who have launched direct or veiled attacks against the judiciary and against the very principle of a supreme Constitution enforced by the courts. How the executive responds to this judgment is therefore pivotal to the future health of our constitutional democracy. Attempts to subvert the judgment or undermine the court who made it, would send a signal that the current government opposes the notion of a constitutional democracy. A sober and considered response would go a long way to allay fears among some that the executive is indeed not committed to our constitutional project.

One further issue needs to be highlighted. For the moment Adv. Simelane is not legally prohibited from continuing in his post. Section 167(5) of the Constitution states that the Constitutional Court makes the final decision whether conduct of the President is constitutional, and must confirm any order of invalidity made by the Supreme Court of Appeal before that order has any force. However, as a practical matter, it would probably be in the best interest of the administration of justice and the criminal justice system as a whole if Adv. Simelane voluntary stepped aside until the Constitution Court has either confirmed or overturned the SCA decision.

It must be recalled that we have a system of objective invalidity, which means an unconstitutional act by the President is unconstitutional from the moment it was taken. If the Constitutional Court confirms that the President had acted unconstitutionally, then the appointment of Adv. Simelane would be void and all decisions taken by him since appointment would have no force and effect unless otherwise directed by the Constitutional Court. Surely, it would be better if this legal uncertainty is not further exacerbated by the continuing presence of Adv. Simelane as NDPP.

If the Constitutional Court overturns the SCA judgment, Adv. Simelane could then resume his duties and little harm would have been done to the administration of justice. However, if that court confirms the SCA decision and Simelane had stepped aside now, it would then not be faced with the difficult issue of what to do about the legality of all the decisions taken by Simelane since the SCA had found that his appointment was unlawful. It would be understandable if the first reaction of a defiant government and an even more defiant Simelane would be to want to continue in office, but this would not be in the best interest of the government or the country. Hopefully, after considered reflection, the best interest of the country will weigh heavier than the ego’s of the personalities involved in this case with Adv. Simelane and with the government and a decision will be made for Adv. Simelane to step aside until the Constitutional Court has delivered its judgment.

Whiteliness strikes again

It is not always easy to engage in any kind of rational debate about political or social issues in South Africa. Some voters are blindly loyal to the political party of their choice and will defend the leaders of that party no matter what these leaders do or say, perhaps out of a misplaced sense of racial solidarity or perhaps because of a wilful and arrogant blindness bordering on sycophancy. Some politicians are also incapable of admitting that they have made a mistake and will launch ad hominem attacks against those who point out any weaknesses in their arguments. Some will even twist the truth (and sometimes lie outright) in order to try and defend the indefensible.

Helen Zille, leader of the Democratic Alliance, and some of her supporters seem particularly prone to this phenomenon. Recent discussions about Zille’s rather startling comments on HIV and AIDS, illustrate this point rather well. Zille was taken to task by myself as well as by Gavin Silber and Nathan Geffen about her strange comments on HIV. What followed is instructive and may say much about the hold that racial solidarity have on many South Africans – even amongst supporters of a political party who professes to be completely blind to race.

As Silber and Geffen wrote, in her original newsletter Zille had specifically cited people who contract HIV through “irresponsible” behaviour before rhetorically questioning why “taxpayers must foot the bill without asking any politically incorrect questions — enough already!”. She then proceeded to confirm that the Western Cape will continue to provide the most comprehensive HIV-AIDS treatment in the country, but that it would also “ask the necessary questions and make appropriate demands for behaviour change”.

Zille, as is her right, responded to some of the criticism levelled against her by Silber and Geffen stating that:

The article focuses almost entirely on rebutting a statement I never made. It invents a position, falsely ascribes it to me — and then seeks to challenge it. That qualifies as a “sick joke”. It is totally ludicrous to say that I suggested withdrawing treatment from those who contract AIDS “irresponsibly”. How would one know? I have never suggested that the public health system stop treating any person (let alone category of people) with HIV.

This statement is curious and is difficult to reconcile with what Silber and Geffen had actually written and what Zille herself had written on the topic. It reminded me of Thabo Mbeki who first questioned whether a link existed between HIV and AIDS (“a virus cannot cause a syndrome”) and then, when criticised about this, claimed that he had never questioned this link. Silber and Geffen had actually written nothing that was not based on the published writings of the Premier which are easily accessed via the Internet.

Her newsletter, read with various tweets she fired off the next week, makes it clear that she believes that a person who contracts HIV “irresponsibly” should not ask the state to pay for ARV’s but should pay for this him or herself. This assumes, of course that the person would be able to afford to pay for the ARV’s. One assumes the Premier either believes that everyone can afford these medicine, or that those who cannot afford to pay should die.

This assessment might seem harsh. That is why I went back to Zille’s tweets to see if she might have been misquoted. But, no, there they were, her series of bizarre tweets on HIV, for all to see. (What is it with politicians, the internet and HIV? First there was Thabo Mbeki and now we have Helen Zille.) I quote a few of her tweets:

A nanny state when ppl don’t act responsibly and then expect treatment.

Get off your entitlement horse and pay for your preventable disease yourself.

Keep your preventable illnesses out of the state’s coffers. Pay for your own ARVs.

[A twitter contributor writes….] If you have consensual unprotected sex, fund your own ARVs [and Zille responds…] Absolutely. The state should pay for unpreventable illnesses.

Then don’t come looking for the nanny state when you need treatment.

Be responsible or pay for your own ARVs.

I made the mistake of posting some of these tweets beneath her denial that she had ever suggested irresponsible people should pay for their own ARV treatment and pointed out that:

Helen Zille says: “It is totally ludicrous to say that I suggested withdrawing treatment from those who contract AIDS “irresponsibly“ But in her tweets she suggested that people who do not use condoms should pay for their own ARV’s. Sounds like she is not being truthful. Some might call it a lie.

Pointing out this lack of candour on the part of their hero was not a smart thing to do, it seems. My post outraged some DA supporters. I provide a sample of the entertaining comments below:

If it weren’t so tragic the comments by de Vos et. al would be amusing and witty…

And as for Pierre de Vos, well what can we expect???

De Vos is without a doubt one of the biggest prat’s on the planet.

Pierre de Vos should stick lecturing in his ivory tower up on the hill. Academics get completely divorced from reality. It’s political correctness and the patronising attitudes of guys like Silber, Geffen and de Vos who think they know what’s best for black people that get me down.

De Vos and his ilk will never have time for Zille, after all she calls a spade a spade. Zille should stay off twitter, after all one cannot build an argument in 140 characters, and one’s message can be misinterpreted. De Vos is the worst kind of academic, he llives in a world that should be perfect, which is fine if you stick to theorising to students, but if you want to get involved in real life, come down from the hill.

Now, as that old right wing judge Erasmus (and old friend of PW Botha) reportedly said many years ago, these criticisms “runs of me like ducks water off my back”. Who cares what obsessed DA supporters infected by a serious dose of racial solidarity think? But it is so depressing that none of those who jumped to Helen Zille’s defence (as they have every right to do) engaged with the point I made. None tried to argue that Zille’s denial was truthful. Instead they just attacked the messenger who happened to have pointed out what would appear to be a huge contradiction between her last statement and her previous tweets.

I fear that many South Africans — and judged by these exchanges, many of them DA supporters — are not very good at democratic debate. One might well have tried to parse Zille’s words (as defenders of Thabo Mbeki often used to do, to their credit) to argue that her denial was indeed truthful. Or one might have invoked context to defend her statements in an effort to reconcile them. Or one might have made a sophisticated argument about how Twitter twists the meaning of words. Such interventions might not have been credible, but they would at least have engaged — no matter how bizarrely — in some form of democratic exchange.

Could it be that some people are so used to having their views validated and taken as the gospel truth, so used to be treated as if their views embody rationality and truth and moral goodness (perhaps because they embody white privilege and unthinkingly and arrogantly live  what Samantha Vice calls whiteliness and white cultural dominance), that they are incapable of engaging rationally with somebody who seriously challenge the assumptions and prejudices they embrace (but that they do not even know that they embrace)?

Is this why only ANC supporters and voters are lambasted for voting along racial lines and for displaying irrational racial solidarity with the ANC and its leaders? I suspect for many of the defenders of Helen Zille it will make no difference if she turned into a tree stump or if she were charged with corruption (they will probably say it was all an ANC plot to discredit her): they will defend her because she is their hero, finish and klaar.

What they do not realise is that such blind loyalty is bad for democracy and is also bad for the leader one is prepared to follow so blindly. How can we have real and meaningful debate if some refuse to address the real issues? And surely, if a leader is so adored and blindly defended, there will be a great danger that he or she will begin to believe the hype and will begin to believe in his or her own infallibility? The truth is that we are all fallible and we all make mistakes. But only those who at least try to be responsible citizens will ever admit to this and would show a willingness to be self-critical and to be critical of the leaders they respect or even adore.

Here is a challenge to DA supporters: why not try and engage with the arguments in this post — robustly and sharply if you so wish — in a serious manner? Why not try and debunk my arguments with more than ad hominem invective? (And if you use ad hominem attacks, why not try making these clever and witty, at least?) In short: why not try and act like responsible citizens in a constitutional democracy?

Just a thought.

Helen Zille, the HIV populist

Political leaders holding executive office (like the President and the nine Premiers) cannot be expected to know everything about every conceivable subject. That is why they employ advisors to assist and advise them. However, sometimes they think they know everything about everything (always a dangerous thing for a politician to think, as we know from experience with former President Thabo Mbeki) and sometimes their advisors fail to do their job properly.

Thus President Jacob Zuma, apparently ill served by his legal advisors, have made some serious blunders over the past two years. First he relied on an obviously unconstitutional provision to try and extend the term of office of a great Chief Justice, then he appointed a retired Constitutional Court judge to lead an inquiry into Bheki Cele’s fitness to hold office when he was legally required to appoint a judge from the High Court or the Supreme Court of Appeal.

It is unclear whether Premier Helen Zille relied on advisors before making truly astonishing statements about the criminalisation of sex or whether she came up with her hare-brained scheme all by herself.

Zille said earlier this week that she was so worried about the spread of HIV and its cost to the government that she wants men who have multiple sexual partners and refuse to use condoms to be charged with attempted murder. Zille told a wellness summit hosted by the provincial health department in Newlands on Tuesday that it was time the government shifted its exclusive focus from treating diseases to preventing them and promoting wellness.

If she was quoted correctly, her statement represents a frontal attack on the Rule of Law and the basic principles of criminal law applicable in any democratic society.

If she said that men who have multiple sexual partners and refused to use condoms should be charged with attempted murder regardless of whether they are HIV positive and regardless of whether they knew that they were HIV positive, she was advocating the criminalisation of conduct that no civilised society based on the Rule of Law and a respect for human rights would criminalise.

A fundamental principle of the criminal law in a country that adheres to the rule of law is that one could only be charged and found guilty of a crime (or attempting to commit a crime) if one could be proven to have had the intention to commit the crime or (in exceptional cases) had the knowledge that his or her actions could have resulted in the commissioning of unlawful action and nevertheless negligently proceeded to act. In South Africa culpable homicide is the unlawful and negligent killing of another. Attempted murder is committed where one inentends to kill somebody else but fails in doing so.

Merely potentially endangering the life of another can never be culpable homicide or attempted murder and one cannot be convicted of attempted culpable homicide. One can only be convicted of attempted murder if it can be proven that one had the intention to kill another but failed to do so. In S v Naidoo the SCA set out the position quite clearly:

What the crimes of murder and culpable homicide have in common is a fatal outcome for a human being. Absent a death, absent the particular crime. What they do not have in common is that absent a death, there may be a conviction of attempted murder but not a conviction of attempted culpable homicide. The reason for the difference lies in the distinction between the two forms of mens rea which are essential elements of the respective crimes of murder and culpable homicide.

The crime of murder cannot be said to have been committed unless the act or omission which caused death was intentionally committed or omitted and death was the desired result, or, if not the desired result, at least actually foreseen as a possible result the risk of occurrence of which the accused recklessly undertook and acquiesced in. In short, dolus in one or other of its manifestations (directus, eventualis, indeterminatus, etc) is the kind of mensrea which must have existed. Where the act or omission is accompanied by such dolus but death does not in fact ensue, it is easy to understand why the accused’s conduct should be visited none the less with penal sanctions. A deliberate attempt to commit the crime of murder cannot be ignored and left unsanctioned simply because the perpetrator has failed to achieve his or her objective.

Where it can be proven that a person intentionally tried to kill another by infecting him or her with the HIV virus (which would be very difficult to prove) a person could be charged with attempted murder. But where someone does not know his or her HIV status and have sex without a condom, it could never lead to a criminal conviction for attempted murder due to the absence of intention. If somebody negligently transmits HIV to another and that person actually dies, the person could theoretically be charged with culpable homicide, but proving the causal link between the sexual act and the death of the person as well as the negligence on the part of the accused would be almost impossible to do.

Given the fact that anti-retrovirals are now widely accessible, a person who responsibly gets tested and take this medicine will in all probability live a long and productive life, which means that it would be almost impossible to prosecute someone for attempted murder as the state would not be able to show the causal link between the sexual act and the death.

In the age of ARVs, deliberately transmitting HIV to another could not be viewed as attempted murder because one’s action would not lead to the death of the other person. Where a person dies of an HIV related illness, the accused charged with his or her murder or with culpable homicide would argue that but for the failure of the deceased to take ARVs death would never have occurred and that there was hence no causal link between the sexual act and the death.

There are good reasons for this. In a constitutional democracy — as opposed to a theocratic state — the criminal law cannot be used to punish individuals merely for not conforming to Judaeo-Christian moral standards regarding sexual behaviour. If one criminalised all unprotected sex with one or several partners, one would be punishing people for something that might never have happened (HIV infection, leading to death) or for something they might not have foreseen at all (as they might not have believed that they were HIV positive at all or might not be HIV positive). One would be punishing people for not behaving in a manner one believes is appropriate — regardless of the consequences or potential consequences.

The criminal law then becomes an oppressive and authoritarian instrument of social control, turning large numbers of ordinary citizens into instant criminals. Where the criminal law punishes behaviour not based on the consequences or potential consequences of said behaviour but for its own sake and without taking into account the guilt of the accused, the Rule of Law is fundamentally undermined.

Perhaps Premier Zille was misquoted or she “misspoke” — as Hillary Clinton famously “misspoke when she said she had to evade sniper fire when she was visiting Bosnia in 1996 as first lady when, in fact, she was greeted by flower-bearing children. Perhaps she meant to say that somebody who has multiple sexual partners and knows that he is HIV positive but nevertheless fails to use a condom and then transmits HIV to a partner who later dies from AIDS related illnesses should be charged with attempted murder.

Even so, this view is quite shockingly misinformed and would have disastrous consequences. It would create an incentive for some men not to get tested for HIV and hence not to take ARVs. Not only would the men then die needlessly but those men would be also far more likely to transmit HIV to their sexual partners. This is because an HIV positive person on ARVs whose viral load becomes undetectable are far less likely of transmitting HIV than one who is not on ARVs and whose viral load is high.

Criminalising sexual behaviour in this way might therefore increase the rate of HIV transmission. It will certainly not decrease it.

Julius Malema is often criticised for being a populist — saying things that are truly idiotic or even dangerous but which he knows would be popular with his constituency. But he is not the only populist politician around. This statement by Premier Zille is a classical populist statement: idiotic and dangerous but quite popular with a certain constituency. She should have known better. And if she did not, she should have known to ask somebody who is a bit more knowledgable than herself to inform her about the legal and medical issues around HIV.

Why Zuma cannot appoint Evita Bezuidenhout as NDPP

Yesterday President Jacob Zuma again expressed concern about the manner in which the judiciary allegedly “interferes” with the work of the executive and with the judicialisation of essentially political disputes, stating that there was a need “to distinguish the areas of responsibility, between the judiciary and the elected branches of the State, especially with regards to policy formulation”.

President Zuma – quite correctly, in my view — stated that “the executive, as elected officials, has the sole discretion to decide policies for Government”. Stating that he respected the powers and role conferred by our constitution on the legislature and the judiciary, he nevertheless insisted that the “executive must be allowed to conduct its administration and policy making work as freely as it possibly can”.

The powers conferred on the courts cannot be regarded as superior to the powers resulting from a mandate given by the people in a popular vote. We also reiterate that in order to provide support to the judiciary and free our courts to do their work, it would help if political disputes were resolved politically. We must not get a sense that there are those who wish to co-govern the country through the courts, when they have not won the popular vote during elections. This interferes with the independence of the judiciary.

These remarks are similar to remarks, made a month or two ago, which created some anxiety amongst some constitutionalists who have become anxious about the government’s continued commitment to constitutionalism. Unfortunately, the President’s remarks reflect, at best, a rather simplistic view of the principle of separation of powers. It also lacks the requisite detail and nuance that would allow us to analyse the remarks in a sensible and responsible manner.

When President Zuma states that the executive must be allowed to make policy “as freely as it possibly can”, it is not clear what is meant by this. It could mean — quite correctly — that the executive has the sole power to formulate and implement policies that are compliant with the Constitution. It could also mean — quite alarmingly — that even when the executive formulates and implements policies that are in conflict with the Constitution, courts should not interfere because (unlike the government of the day) judges have not been elected in a popular vote.

And what does he mean when he warns that people should not try to co-govern the country through the courts? Does he mean that purely political issues should not be brought to the courts, or does he mean that those who disagree with the policies implemented by the government should not approach the courts to have such policies declared invalid — even when the policies are clearly in conflict with the provisions of the Constitution? If it means the former, what exactly does the President understand to be “purely political” issues?

The problem is that it is not possible to draw a clear line between “purely political” matters and questions about whether the Constitution and the law had been complied with. Yesterday, in a radio interview with John Maytham on Cape Talk, Steven Friedman inadvertently illustrated this point quite well. He pointed out that it was problematic when courts became involved in purely political issues and then mentioned the case of the DA challenging the appointment of Menzi Simelane as National Director of Public Prosecutions (NDPP) as a case in point.

Friedman is wrong when he asserts this is not a matter that should be taken to court. In fact, in a constitutional democracy where the rule of law is respected, this kind of appointment might very well require intervention by the courts.

The National Prosecuting Authority Act states that the President can appoint any fit and proper person with the requisite legal qualification as NDPP. But what happens if the President appoints somebody as NDPP who is not fit and proper or does not have the requisite legal qualification? For example, if the President were to appoint Schabir Shaik as NDPP, he would not be acting in accordance with the law and any court would have a duty — if so requested — to declare that appointment unlawful and invalid. If it failed to do so, it would in effect sanction lawlessness and would signal that it believed that the President was above the law.

It would be of no use for the President to asserted that he had the power to appoint an NDPP and that he believed Shaik indeed possessed the requisite qualifications for the job: in a constitutional democracy an action does not comply with the law merely because the President claims that it does.

Parliament can of course amend the NPA Act to change the provision requiring that the NDPP possess a legal qualification and had to be fit and proper and as long as these changes complied with the Constitution – including the requirement, affirmed by the Constitutional Court in the First Certification case, that the NPA had to be independent — the President could then appoint somebody as NDPP who complied with the newly introduced requirements. What the President cannot do is flout the existing law merely because he is the President and has decided that the requirements of the law are not to his liking.

Similarly, if the President in effect delegated the power to appoint the NDPP to his Minister of Justice, this would be unconstitutional and any such appointment would be null and void. Until the Constitution is amended to allow the MInister of Justice to appoint the NDPP, only the President can do so. If the President delegated the power to somebody else, he would be acting unlawfully and the Constitutional Court would have no choice but to declare this purported delegation unconstitutional and hence null and void.

Section 1 of the Constitution also confirms that the exercise of power by the President has to conform to the principle of the Rule of Law. This means, at the very least, that the President must act in a rational manner. There must be a rational connection between the legitimate purpose being pursued by the Presidents and the action taken to pursue that purpose. If the President appointed Evita Bezuidenhout or Nic Rabinowitz as NDPP because he thought it would be lots of fun to have a comedian as NDPP, this would not be a legitimate purpose sanctioned by the law and hence would not be constitutionally valid.

I provide these examples to illustrate that a decision by the President that might appear to be purely “political” might nevertheless raise several legal and/or constitutional questions. When this happens anyone — including the DA – has a right to challenge the actions of the President in court. Surely we do not want to live in a country where the President routinely flouts the very laws adopted by the Parliament dominated by the party he is the leader of?

Of course, no President likes to be told that he had acted unlawfully and that a decision he has taken was null and void. To prevent this from happening a wise President will not attack the judiciary for doing its job, but would rather ensure that his legal advisors provide him with honest, reliable, precise and accurate advice so that he would avoid the embarrassment of having his decisions overturned by a court of law doing its constitutional duty.

Given the less than reliable legal advice provided to our President on several occasions since his appointment, I would contend that President Zuma might have misdiagnosed the problem. The problem is not primarily that our courts do not respect the separation of powers — by and large they do. The problem is that on several occasions the President has acted unconstitutionally or unlawfully because he received really terrible legal advice.

Only time will tell whether the appointment yesterday of Mr Michael Hulley as a part-time legal advisor to the President will solve this problem. Hopefully Mr Hulley is a better legal advisor than a businessman. If he is not, President Zuma will continue to be thwarted by our courts doing what they are constitutionally mandated to do – interpreting and applying the law without fear, favour or prejudice.

Will the DA stick to its stated principles?

Members of the Democratic Alliance (DA) caucus are facing an interesting choice when they decide whether to reaffirm Athol Trollip as its parliamentary leader or whether to throw their weight behind Lindiwe Mazibuko, who has announced that she is challenging Trollip for the position of parliamentary leader. An incumbent (who happens to be a white male) is facing off against a young challenger (who happens to be black and a woman).

The political editor of Beeld, Jan-Jan Joubert, has argued that for the DA to be true to its values, the caucus members should not take into account the fact that Mazibuko is a black woman and that Trollip is a white male. Elsewhere Joubert wrote that Trollip’s performance has been solid rather than spectacular, and certainly not on par with that of his predecessors, Sandra Botha and Tony Leon, but he has not indicated whether he believes Trollip or Mazibuko would be a better choice.

On this issue I believe that Joubert is dead wrong. This is why.

In discussions on talk radio many DA supporters have indicated that they would support Mazibuko because the DA “needs a black face in its leadership” or — less crudely — because of the fact that voters need to be able to identify with the leaders of the party it would vote for and because the DA needs to attract more black voters to break out of its Western Cape Zillestan.

Personally, I suspect that the DA would have to do much more than merely elect a black parliamentary leader to convince the majority of us South Africans that it is a credible alternative to the ANC. While some DA MPs and some of its leaders are hardworking and sincere, the tone which some of the DA representatives employ when they engage with important issues of the day still alienates many of us. The fact that the party also still far too often is seen as focusing its attention, at best, on the concerns of upper-middle class voters and, at worst, on the concerns of those white supporters who are extremely reactionary and in cases downright racist, rather than on the concerns of the majority of South Africans, leaves many of us with the uneasy feeling that the DA is essentially a party of white privilege and prejudice.

During the election campaign Helen Zille, Patricia de Lille and Lindiwe Mazibuko tirelessly tried to address this very debilitating perception. Premier Zille sang and danced and appeared at DA rallies held in many townships; and at the last election rally held by the DA before the election Zille threw in more than a smattering of Xhosa into her speech to remind us that the DA was supposedly for all of us.

But the DA faces a difficult problem: as it attempts to appeal to more than the narrow interests of the white electorate who has voted for the party in the past, it may well alienate some members of that very white electorate whose support it needs to retain in order to remain a viable party. Hence, since the election one has not heard Helen Zille speaking any Xhosa and when Dene Smuts issued a rather level-headed and sober assessment of the hate speech judgment of Judge Colin Lamont, many DA supporters were incensed by her analysis because it was mildly critical of the judgment, prompting Helen Zille to issue a clarifying statement.

Nevertheless, in my humble and completely unsolicited opinion, the election of Lindiwe Mazibuko as parliamentary leader of the DA would constitute an important (but not decisive) step towards rehabilitating the DA and towards positioning it as a credible political party in the South African landscape. In fact, not electing Mazibuko would undo some of the good work that Zille has undertaken during her term as leader, as it would send a signal that the DA is fundamentally a racist party who champions white mediocrity over black talent. This is so because its caucus would then have demonstrated that it had once again chosen to support a less than inspiring white man over an, admittedly, less experienced but obviously highly talented rising star who happens to be female and black.

In short, if the DA caucus members vote for Trollip because he is white, the party is doomed to remain an opposition party for decades to come (not that voting for Mazibuko will magically turn the majority of voters away from the ANC and towards the DA).

But does it mean – as Joubert seems to argue – that if the caucus votes for Mazibuko, at least in part, because she is a black woman, that the party is not being true to its principles and policies? Well, if one takes the actual policies of the party seriously (something that some of us admittedly find difficult to do), I think the only option for the DA caucus would be to vote for Mazibuko. If we assume that it was not mere window-dressing by the DA to elect Mazibuko as national spokesperson for the party and hence if we accept that she is a competent and credible politician, the DA’s own policy on corrective measures demands that she, rather than Trollip, should be elected as parliamentary leader.

Two weeks ago a DA MP sent me the DA’s policy on corrective measures to try and convince me that the DA does believe in racial redress of some sort. I quote the most salient aspect of that policy below:

[T]he DA believe in equitable programmes of admission, recruitment and appointment in all spheres. Equity means fairness. It means no-one may be excluded from competing for places on the basis of their immutable characteristics, except where differentiation is just and equitable: a near-sighted person cannot be expected to be trained as a pilot. But in order to advance the goal of equality and the reflection of the full diversity of our society in terms of race, ethnicity, sex, belief, culture, and able-bodiedness, underrepresented categories should enjoy “plus points” or favourable consideration when they are as well qualified for appointment as the next man or woman; or when they show comparable promise. To pretend that qualifications on paper, in examinations, in Curricula Vitae or on job performance scorecards  are the only appropriate or conventional criteria for eligibility for admission, appointment, selection, promotion and the like in any sphere of activity can potentially be as mechanical as demographic determinism.

This policy, authored by Dene Smuts and adopted by the DA Federal Council in 2005, thus embraces a mild form of race based corrective action. It explicitly endorses measures that would give weight to the race of a person when considering whether that person should be appointed, elected or promoted.

In a case like the one under discussion, where one candidate is less than brilliant (but happens to be white and male) and the other is black woman who is a rising star who might conceivable be said to show the promise of a good leader, the DA’s own policy says that the latter candidate must be given some “plus points” because she is black and a woman, and hence that she should get the nod above the white male candidate.

If the majority of the caucus fail to elect Mazibuko as parliamentary leader this might well mean that she has risen inside the party not because of her qualities as a politician and a leader, but merely as window dressings; that she was used to give the DA the veneer of credibility it needs to attract the majority of voters in South Africa.

It would mean either that she does not possess the promise that the DA policy speaks of, or that the majority of DA caucus members do not agree with the policy on corrective measures adopted by the party. Either way, it would make the DA the laughing stock of any mildly well-informed member of the public and would suggest that it is just as (or more) dishonest than the ANC when it comes to sticking to its supposed principles.

I therefore believe that Jan-Jan Joubert is dead wrong on this issue. If the DA wants to demonstrate that it is a party of principle, its caucus can only elect one parliamentary leader — and that is not going to be Athol Trollip. The fact that the tie-break in this case will be the race and/or gender of the candidate squares perfectly with the policies on redress adopted (but seldom spoken about) by the DA.

Hold off with the schadenfreugasms

It is not always easy to be principled and consistent, more so when one happens to be a politician in a constitutional democracy and one has to keep one’s core supporters happy while also fending off one’s enemies inside and outside the political party one belongs to. Most politicians cannot help but act in expedient and self-serving ways in order to advance their immediate interests and careers. In a well-functioning constitutional democracy this impulse is checked by ordinary voters who help to hold politicians accountable and force those politicians to pay at least lip-service to a set of core principles.

In a country like South Africa, there are far less pressure on politicians to act in a principled, honest and consistent manner.

Unlike Constitutional Court judges, who are constrained – at least to some degree - by the text of the Constitution and by the legal precedent established by a long line of judgments, politicians do not have to be consistent, particularly honest or principled. As long as they achieve their short term goals – which usually entails, on the one hand, avoiding humiliation and avoiding being exposed as charlatans or crooks and, on the other hand, advancing their careers to climb the greasy poll - they have a relatively free hand to say and do anything that the voting public will let them get away with.

Thus, a politician like Helen Zille could effortlessly lambast ANC leaders for launching a scathing and unwarranted personal attack on the judges of the Constitutional Court, only to launch a scathing and unwarranted personal attack on a judge of the Cape High Court a few months later. Those who support her party almost all staunchly defended her – regardless of the principles involved – just as many of those who defended Jacob Zuma during his legal troubles did so – regardless of the facts.

But sometimes even politicians get caught out and then the ensuing spectacle presents such a bizarre and macabre contrast between what the politician used to say and do and what he or she now says or does, that the politician runs the risk of completely losing any credibility – even with the very gullible voting public who might once have defended the politician regardless of the facts.

Recall that after Schabir Shaik was convicted of bribing Jacob Zuma and then President Thabo Mbeki removed Zuma as Deputy President of the country in anticipation of him being charged with fraud and corruption, Zuma skilfully exploited his image as a victim. Zuma subtly encouraged his supporters to defend him and to attack his “enemies”, especially Mbeki. This Cosatu, the SACP and the ANC Youth League and their supporters did with little care for the consequences of their actions or any appeal to reason or principle.

Thus Mbeki was vilified and branded as a snake, and ANC T-shirts with his face on it was burnt by Zuma supporters who claimed that they would die for their leader – no matter whether he was corrupt and no matter what he might or might not have done with that baby oil in that room with the young daughter of an old and dear comrade friend. Cosatu, the SACP and the ANC Youth League all rallied behind Zuma because they had the short term goal of getting rid of Mbeki to unite them.

Very few of these politicians paused to ask whether Zuma might not have a case to answer in court – given the fact that Shaik had already been convicted of bribing him. They did not ask whether Zuma would make a good President of the ANC and the country. They did not really explore questions about President Zuma’s values and never stopped to ask whether – as supposedly principled and progressive organisations – they should support a leader who seemed to be rather surprisingly patriarchal and conservative in his views.

One would therefore be excused if one had a bit of a schadenfreugasm – to use a phrase popularised by Jon Stewart’s Daily Show – about the events today outside Luthuli House. While ANC Youth League President Julius Malema was facing disciplinary charges inside ANC headquarters, outside some of his supporters were pelting police and journalists with bricks, burning ANC T-shirts with the image of President Jacob Zuma and chanting slogans about how they would kill for Malema. How ironic that ANC Secretary General Gwede Mantashe, who blindly supported Zuma, today issued a statement condemning the behaviour of ANC Youth League supporters, conveniently forgetting the behaviour of the crowds outside the court when Zuma was charged with rape and when he made appearances during his many court battles with the Scorpions

Of course, many reasons could be advanced for the embarrassing but not unfamiliar display outside ANC headquarters today: the fact that Malema’s message of nationalisation resonates with some unemployed youth, that Malema is a role model for people looking at his flashy success, that the ANC leadership had encouraged this populism with their own behaviour, as well as any number of other explanations could be offered. But as I am not a professional political analyst I am far from sure that anything I could say on this topic would be of much interest or would show any special insight.

The point I would like to make is perhaps more mundane. If we had lived in a more normal society - a society not haunted by the lingering ghosts of our apartheid past - the bizarre events of today, which harks back to the events that led up to the ANC’s Polokwane conference and then to the dropping of criminal charges against President Zuma, might not have happened. If we had lived in a better functioning constitutional democracy, one in which the gap between rich and poor were not so vast and so obscene and in which conspicuous consumption by those with old and new money alike were not celebrated and held up as the ideal, it might have been more likely that reason, debate and sober reflection - instead of illogical rage – would have dominated the public discourse.

If we had lived in a more normal society, reason and logic might have had a better chance of being the dominant mode of doing politics. In such a democracy, leaders and ordinary citizens would have been required to be far more rigorous in justifying their decisions and would have more quickly been called to account if they failed to justify their words and actions in a credible manner. Politicians would at least have had to pretend to have principles, intellectual prowess and integrity (although, granted, in the UK of “New Labour”, Tony Blair – who was very good at pretending - turned out to be a disastrous leader). Most voters would have been shamed into opposing leaders who so clearly did not have the best interest of the poor at heart and were possibly corrupt.

But today’s events remind us that we do not live in an ordinary or normal country. We live in a country where some people (politicians and the old business elite among them) eat sushi from the bodies of semi-naked models; are protected by bodyguards and high walls from the young men and women who have no money, no jobs and little to lose; a country where some people travel across the world in first class and throw lavish parties, while the majority of South Africans languish in poverty and do not have the life chances to make meaningful decisions about their own lives.

Railing against Julius Malema and his supporters and calling them thugs and rioters will not change this basic fact – just like railing against Jacob Zuma during his battle with Thabo Mbeki had little effect. Unless we do something to address this bizarre and immoral state of affairs so many of us often seem to take for granted, everything that Mr Malema and his supporters represent will not disappear. That is one reason I support a wealth tax and why those who rail against the idea – just like they rail against Malema and his supporters – do not seem to me to have the best interests of South Africa and all who live in it at heart.

Why provinces have little real power but huge responsibilities

The exact contours of South Africa’s quasi-federal system of government, in which legislative and executive powers are distributed between different spheres of government in a way that seems to tilt power away from provincial governments towards the national government, has not yet been fully worked out. The Constitutional Court has only been asked to consider this rather complex issue in very few cases, perhaps because provinces — even the Western Cape government currently controlled by the opposition Democratic Alliance – have not pushed the envelope on this issue.

There are reasons for this reluctance on the part of Provinces to challenge the powers of the national legislature and executive. Provincial governments do not have the power to raise much revenue and is also required to co-operate with the national sphere of government. Besides, provincial legislatures do not have any residual powers to pass legislation. In other words, unlike the national Parliament, which enjoys plenary legislative power within the bounds of the Constitution, the legislative authority of provinces is circumscribed by the Constitution.

Schedule 4 of the Constitution lists those functional areas on which both the national Parliament and the provincial legislatures can pass legislation. These include important areas such as housing, health care, education, policing and education. Schedule 5 lists functional areas with regard to which provincial legislatures have exclusive legislative competence, but these exclusive powers relate to subjects of little importance such as beaches and amusement facilities; billboards and the display of advertisements in public places; cemeteries, funeral parlours and crematoria; fencing and fences; local sport facilities; noise pollution; street trading; street lighting; and traffic and parking.

Provinces have no power to legislate on a matter falling outside Schedules 4 and 5 unless it is a matter “that is expressly assigned to the province by national legislation” or is a “matter for which a provision of the Constitution envisages the enactment of provincial legislation”.

This does not mean that provincial governments have no power to affect the lives of ordinary citizens. A good provincial government can make a huge difference to the delivery of basic services and can also wreck the best-laid plans of a national minister if it does not do its job properly. This is because provincial executives are tasked with implementing not only provincial legislation in the province, but also with implementing all national legislation within the functional areas listed in Schedule 4 or 5 (except where the Constitution or an Act of Parliament provides otherwise).

That is why a national minister of housing, health or education has limited powers to ensure that the services provided in a province is of a high standard. Where the MEC for education and her officials in a province fail to ensure that textbooks are delivered on time or that ARV medication is freely available at hospitals and clinics, the national minister can usually do little more than discuss this problem with that MEC during a MINMEC meeting (a meeting of the minister and relevant MEC’s).

Our system of co-operative government means that the national government and provincial governments have a duty to co-operate with one another “in mutual trust and good faith”, but as anyone knows who has tried to delegate work to an incompetent or lazy person, these requirements work best when the MECs are diligent and their departments are run efficiently. Unless the national government decides to intervene officially in a province in terms of section 100 of the Constitution (in cases where a province cannot or does not fulfil an executive obligation in terms of legislation or the Constitution), the national minister has limited power to interfere in the day to day running of the affairs of a provincial department.

But despite the fact that these general principles are now quite settled, it is far from clear exactly where the powers of the national Parliament and Executive end and where the powers of provincial Parliaments and Executives begin. We would need more test cases to be brought to the Constitutional Court to clarify the boundaries of the powers that may constitutionally be exercised by provincial Parliaments and provincial Executive Committees.

That is why the Constitutional Court judgment handed down today in the case of Premier: Limpopo Province v Speaker of the Limpopo Provincial Government and Others is of some interest — even though the case dealt with a seemingly rather technical question. The question presented in the case was whether the Provincial Legislature of Limpopo had the authority to enact legislation dealing with its own financial management. It arose out of the Financial Management of the Limpopo Provincial Legislature Bill, 2009 (Bill), which was passed by the Provincial Legislature, but which the Premier – very properly, it must be said — declined to assent to and sign. (Maybe the Premier’s legal adviser could be promoted to assist the State Law Adviser with the more complex constitutional questions with which he seems to have such difficulties.)

The Bill mirrored to a large degree national legislation on how to deal openly and transparently with the finances of the Limpopo legislature by creating an oversight committee; setting out the responsibilities of the accounting officer in relation to the money of the provincial legislature; how to deal with the financial misconduct of its own employees and several other related issues.

Schedule 4 or 5 of the Constitution does not allow the provincial legislature to pass laws dealing with its own financial management. The most important legal question was therefore whether the Bill dealt with a matter “that is expressly assigned to the province by national legislation” or a “matter for which a provision of the Constitution envisages the enactment of provincial legislation”. It is the second question that is of particular interest here.

In a minority judgment, Justice Yacoob (in a judgment concurred in by Justice Cameron) argued that the Constitution did “envisage” that a province could pass legislation like the Bill under discussion. Finding that the word “envisages” means something different from “expressly assigned”, Yacoob argued that section 215(1) of the Constitution envisaged that provincial legislatures had the power to pass legislation dealing with its own financial management.

This section requires provincial budgetary processes to promote transparency, accountability and effective financial management of the economy, debt and the public sector. The section then provides that national legislation must prescribe certain pre-requisites that must be complied with by provincial entities and prescribes what budgets in each sphere of government should contain. This, in effect, implied (although the minority is careful not to use this term) that a provincial legislature has the power to determine its own budgetary processes and that it could determine this process by passing legislation regulating that process.

The majority disagreed. In a judgment authored by Chief Justice Ngcobo, a slightly narrower view was taken on the powers conferred on provincial legislatures by the Constitution. It did so by arguing that where the Constitution does not expressly grant legislative powers to the provincial legislature, it does not “envisages” the enactment of provincial legislation. The majority judgment thus confirmed the view that one cannot assume that provincial legislatures have the power to pass legislation merely because they have the power to regulate their own processes and  can do so administratively.

Our constitutional scheme does not permit legislative powers of the provincial legislatures to be implied. Were it to be otherwise, the constitutional scheme for the allocation of legislative power would be undermined. The careful delineation between the legislative competence of Parliament and that of provincial legislatures would be blurred.  This may very well result in uncertainty about the limits of the legislative powers of the provinces. In the light of the plenary legislative powers of Parliament, it would result in the provinces having concurrent legislative competence with Parliament in respect of many matters. This is not what the drafters of our Constitution had in mind.

If the legislative powers of the provincial legislatures are to be implied beyond those expressly set out in the Constitution, this would, in my view, diminish, through an expansive reading of the Constitution, the residual legislative powers of Parliament. This would be inconsistent with the scheme of the Constitution, by which the provincial legislatures are given specific powers under the Constitution and Parliament is assigned the rest. In my view, the plenary legislative powers granted to Parliament are not to be diminished by implying legislative powers of provincial legislatures not expressly stated in the Constitution. The assignment of powers to the provinces must be expressed in clear and unequivocal language.

Chief Justice Ngcobo argued that the sections relied upon by Justice Yacoob do not envisage the enactment of provincial legislation but, on the contrary, expressly envisage the enactment of national legislation. The national parliament could therefore pass such legislation for provinces, but provinces could not pass such legislation themselves.

In a formal legal sense, I suspect this reading is the more accurate one. It is also more in line to the spirit of the Constitutional Court’s previous forays into this area of the law as it is based on the assumption that provinces only have those powers explicitly provided for by the Constitution and that our Constitution was drafted to secure the upper hand in such matters for the national sphere of government.

On a policy level the (perhaps) slightly more strained interpretation of Justices Yacoob and Cameron is probably preferable to the more logical and coherent interpretation of the majority. If we are going to have a provincial sphere of government that works effectively, a sphere of government where each province established its own character and its government could demonstrate its ability to do better than the national government, our courts should be hesitant to interpret the Constitution too narrowly in a way that favours the powers of the national sphere of government.

At the moment this will make little difference but as the political landscape changes and as more provinces are governed by parties who are not represented in the national government, this could become important. Imagine the SACP or some other party of the left governs three provinces while the ANC retains power at national level. In such a scenario one would probably want the provinces to have the freedom to experiment with different policies that might demonstrate — within the boundaries of what is constitutionally permissible — the benefits of such progressive policies. Whether this will really make any difference — given the fact that budgets are mostly determined at national level — is another question.

However, because the case dealt with a rather technical issue, it does not really help us to understand how the Court will rule in cases where provincial governments push through legislation aimed at further regulating the administration of health, education, policing and housing and where such legislation is in conflict with national legislation on the same topic.

One may argue that it is time for provincial governments to become more adventurous by establishing particular legislative standards and criteria for the delivery of very important services in the fields of education, housing, health and policing as they are co-responsible for these along with the national government. But because provinces have very little independent revenue raising capacity and depend on an allocation from the national budget, this will be rather difficult — especially if a province wished to establish higher standards for the delivery of a particular service and this would have budgetary implications.