Constitutional Hill

democracy

Selling horse droppings as figs

In Afrikaans we have a striking saying describing rather accurately what the keepers of secrets (yes, the spies and double agents and professional liars in the intelligence agencies) are  trying to do with its latest range of advertisements promoting the Secrecy Bill: “Hulle will ons nou wysmaak dat perdedrolle, vye is”. (“Now they want to convince us that horse droppings are really figs.”)

Apart from the fact that the government is not supposed to promote a Bill currently still serving before Parliament and not yet passed into law (as Parliament is currently seized of this matter, and the executive has no truck with the Bill until it is actually passed and becomes law), the advertisements are about as honest and truthful as your average Senior Manager at the Department of Public Works testifying at the Bheki Cele Inquiry.

I focus on the English version, which can be played via YouTube:

 

The text of the advert is as follows:

Female Voice: “Are you following the whole debate about this new law everyone is talking about? Something about state information?”

Male Voice: “Yes. And I see why government worries. All this stuff about identity theft, people being long dead but collecting pensions, the list is endless.”

Female Voice: “But what about corruption? How will the government deal with that?”

Male Voice: “The bill makes it clear that if people try to cover up corruption they will go to jail for up to 15 years, and whistleblowers will be protected.”

Female Voice: “That’s good. But will we still be able to get the information we need from the government?”

Male Voice: “Yes. Our constitution gives us that right. As for the press, the bill doesn’t suppress press freedom at all. When you want information that is classified, you just have to apply for it. If you are still not happy, you can go to court and the judge will decide if it is in everyone’s interest.”

Female Voice: “Yes, sounds reasonable.”

Male Voice: “The thing is that government has to protect its information from criminals. There are spies out there that want to steal our information to develop their own countries at our expense.”

Female Voice: “I see. I want to familiarise myself with the bill more. There’s so much I didn’t know.”

Male Voice: “Great, ‘cause it’s really important that government protects its information. It is about protecting our country and its hard-won freedom. Ensuring that we all live in peace, security and prosperity.”

The thing is, the Secrecy Bill has absolutely nothing to do with identity theft and neither has it anything to do with people fraudulently collecting pensions if they are not entitled to do so. Although section 8 and 9 of the Secrecy Bill deals with the protection of valuable information (which could include personal information about one’s ID held by the state), and although these sections state that such information warrants “a degree of protection and administrative control and must be handled with due care and only in accordance with authorised procedures”, the Bill does not actually criminalise the selling of your ID by a state official and is in no way dealing with identity theft. What a very small part of the Bill does (about 4 of the more than 50 clauses in the Bill) is that it prohibits any person from unlawfully and intentionally destroying, removing, altering or erasing valuable information.

A state official would therefore be punished in terms of this Bill if he or she deleted your ID information from the government database. What the Bill would not deal with at all is identity theft or pension fraud. The law already punishes fraudulent selling of your ID information to others as well as pension fraud, and this Bill has absolutely nothing to do with that. In other words this advert is deceitful and dishonest. This is perhaps not surprising, as the adverts were cooked up by the very spies who, we are told, we should trust with decisions about the need to classify state documents as secret or top secret. I would not trust these people when they tell me what the weather will be like tomorrow – let alone with these decisions that may well hide serious criminality and corruption. (General Mdluli, are you there?)

Ironically, what the adverts do,  is to illustrate beyond all doubt why this Bill is so dangerous. If these people are prepared to deceive the public so blatantly and openly, why would they not lie to us about the existence of wrongly and unlawfully classified documents which we might need to get access to in order to expose corruption or in order to expose the blatant flouting of the law and undermining of our democracy by the intelligence services?

The “safeguards” in the Bill which the advert talks about are therefore illusory. If it is a criminal offense to be in possession of a classified document, and if one tries to get access to a wrongly classified document, the spies will merely claim that the document does not exist, finish en klaar. If one then claims to have seen the document, one will be arrested and charged for possessing a classified document and to admitting to having committed a crime and one could be sentenced to a long period in jail for possessing even an illegally classified document.

It is true that section 43 of the Bill states that a person who is protected by the Protected Disclosures Act may disclose documents despite any provisions in the Bill, which means that a very brave (some would say very stupid) state employee who discovers documents demonstrating criminal activity or corruption by the intelligence services, may leak such documents to, say, the Public Protector.

What the advert does not say is that the Public Protector will then immediately have to take the leaked documents showing serious criminal activity to the nearest Police Station where one of Richard Mdluli’s cronies will be able to receive the document and “deal” with it to protect the intelligence services and those exposed as criminals or crooks in the documents. The Public Protector can then try and get access to the document via various means and after several years – and assuming rather optimistically – that the document had not been “lost” (in other words, destroyed), she might finally get access to that document – long after the crime was committed and the cover up effectively instituted, the witnesses “disappeared” or intimidated into silence or packed off to Tjikitjikistan as the undersecretary of culture.

Moreover, the advert seems to suggest that all active citizens are really no more than potential criminals, suggesting how the paranoid spies view us ordinary citizens. It says that the state has to protect its information from criminals, but it is exactly the kinds of information that we need as citizens that we will be “protected” from accessing. We will not ever again be able to know that intelligence services had concocted another Browse Mole Report to discredit the enemies of the sitting President. We will not ever again be able to know that the spies had taped telephone conversations between politicians or between NPA members. We will not know that senior ANC leaders have been spied on by the intelligence services because the President thought that these leaders might pose a threat to his political ambitions.

Of course, the adverts also display the kind of paranoia that is familiar to students of any fascist police state. Hence it suggests that we need to protect state secrets because if any of these secrets held by the state are ever released, our very freedom (the freedom curtailed by this Bill) will be threatened. Now, I for one cannot imagine what secrets the spies are keeping that are so earthshattering that it would threaten the very life of our nation and our Constitution if it were to be made public. Could it be information about financial donations made by foreign dictators to the President or the governing party? Information about the sex-lives of politicians illegally spied upon by the intelligence services on instructions from the President? Maybe there are documents proving that our spies are plotting to assassinate the President of the United States, which, if revealed, could lead to a US military invasion.

But I doubt that any of these documents exist and even if they did, we will be protected by its disclosure (and disclosure of the unlawful actions by the intelligence services who might have compiled these documents illegally), not by keeping them secret.

This Bill is about protecting the intelligence services and drawing a veil of secrecy over their often unlawful activities in order to enhance the powers of the spies, create a police state within a state and protect the leadership of the incumbent faction inside the ANC from embarrassment and from being ousted in quasi-democratic party elections. It is not about freedom but un-freedom, not about democracy but a threat to our democracy.

If you believe otherwise, I am sure you will also believe me when I say that you should please send me all your banking details (including password) immediately so that I can transfer a few million dollars into your account, which I will do because I need your assistance with transferring fabulous amounts of money into South Africa.

Another unconstitutional law on the horizon?

I was asked to prepare a memorandum on the draft amendments to the South African Police Service Act, purporting to give effect to the Constitutional Court judgment in the Glenister case. The Glenister judgemnt found that the abolition of The Scorpions and the creation of The Hawks was unconstitutional in several respects and ordered Parliament to fix the problem within 18 months. These amendments are a purported attempt to comply with the judgment.

In the memorandum I concluded that the proposed amendments fall far short of the minimum requirements as set out in the majority judgment in the Glenister case. (The full memo can be accessed here.)

What is clear from the draft is that there is no political will to create an independent body free from political influence or interference to fight corruption. It would be far too dangerous for the kleptocratic members of the political elite to create such a body, hence the minimalist attempts contained in the draft Bill which attempts to create a partly independent body, but one which will retain “sufficient” political control over it to ensure that the body does not investigate the “wrong” people.

But creating a partly independent corruption fighting body is like making a woman half pregnant – not something that seems possible at present. (Not that I am an expert on that particular score.)

As the Glenister judgment set out, at the heart of the inquiry is whether the body will be free from political influence and interference so that it can do its job effectively, on the one hand, while remaining financially and politically accountable, on the other hand. What is essential in achieving this balance is to depoliticise the anti-corruption institution or institutions. To achieve this a body need not attain the kind of independence guaranteed for the judiciary (“full independence”), but it does need to be sufficiently independent so as to enable the anti-corruption agency to function effectively without being exposed to undue political influence.

Legal mechanisms must be established that limit the possibility of abuse of the chain of command and that will protect the agency against interference in operational decisions about starting, continuing and ending criminal investigations and prosecutions involving corruption. An effective corruption-fighting unit thus needed to meet two basic interrelated requirements. It needed to be both structurally and operationally independent – in accordance with the fundamental principles of the South African legal system and in line with South Africa’s international law obligations – to enable it to carry out its functions effectively and free from any undue political influence or undue intervention.

The Bill opts of a “minimalist approach”, including amendments to several sections of Chapter 6A of the South African Police Service Act but retaining the DPCI, albeit in a slightly different format, instead of creating a completely new body. The amendments represent a rejection of a return to the previous position where the DSO was situated within the National Directorate of Public Prosecutions. The approach also rejects the option of creating an independent body outside the formal structures of the South African Police Service. This approach is not necessarily precluded by the majority judgment in the Glenister case (although the judgment did not deal with the difficulties regarding financial independence that will arise because of the non-independent National Commissioner of Police’s role as the Chief Financial Officer of the “independent” unit). As long as the amendments create an independent corruption-fighting unit free from potential political influence and interference, a body that – judged in its entirety – is not only in fact sufficiently independent but is also reasonably perceived as being independent, the amendments will comply with the judgment.

As it stands, an overall assessment of the proposed amendments suggest that the amendments fall far short of what is required by the Glenister judgment in several ways. This is because the amendments do not remove the potential for political influence and interference in the work of the Hawks because the new body is neither sufficiently structurally or operationally independent to and cannot reasonably be perceived as being so independent. The amendments provide far too much power for politicians to regulate the work of the unit, rendering it not sufficiently operationally independent. Neither is it sufficiently structurally independent because of lack of safeguards regarding security of tenure for all members of the unit as well as effective mechanism to report and investigate allegations of political influence and interference in its work. Both in fact and in terms of a reasonable perception of independence the proposals for a reconfigured Hawks fail to safeguard independence as required by the judgment. In this regard, the following are the main problems with the proposed amendments.

The amendments provide insufficient guarantees to safeguard the structural independence of the Directorate as it fails to provide security of tenure for all the members of the Directorate and fails to establish statutory secured levels of remuneration for all members of the Directorate.

In terms of a newly created section 17M all members of the Directorate remain members of the South African Police Service “with all the powers, duties and functions of other members of the South African Police Service”. Section 17G which states that the remuneration, allowances and other conditions of service of members of the Directorate shall be regulated in terms of section 24 of the Act (a section which allows the Minister to make regulations about the reduction in rank of members as well as the remuneration structure of members), falls short of the security of tenure for all members. As the majority judgment in Glenister made clear, in the absence of explicit provisions entrenching the employment security and remuneration levels of members of the Directorate, “individual member could be threatened – or could feel threatened – with removal for failing to yield to pressure in a politically unpopular investigation or prosecution”, which would be inimical to structural independence.

Ordinary members of the Hakws would therefore remain subject to the hierarchical structure and discipline of the SAP and could be removed by the National Police Commissioner (who is not an independent person). The National Commissioner would retain the power to “discharge” any member of the DPCI from the SAPS on account of redundancy or the interests of the SAPS. The Commissioner would also still be empowered to discharge a member of the service if, for reasons other than unfitness or incapacity, the discharge “will promote efficiency or economy” in the SAPS, or will “otherwise be in the interest of” the SAPS. Ordinary members of the Directorate therefore would therefore not be sufficiently protected in terms of job security as required by the Glenister judgment.

Moreover, although a newly inserted section 17DA provides limited protection for the employment security for the Head of the Directorate, and the newly inserted section 17CA(c) provides limited remuneration protection for the Head, Deputy Head and Provincial Heads of the Directorate, it contains no such protection for other members of the Directorate. This means that ordinary members of the Directorate will be subject to the ordinary remuneration regime of the SAPS in exactly the same manner as other members of the SAPS, rendering them insufficiently independent in a structural sense. This falls foul of the Glenister judgment as discussed in section 2.3.2.3 above.

The security of tenure of the Head of the Directorate is not sufficiently protected as required by the judgment as discussed in section 2.3.2 above. A newly inserted section 17DA deals with this matter, but provides wide discretion for the Minister in suspending and removing the Head of the Directorate from office. In terms of the proposed amendment, the Minister is empowered in terms of section 17DA(2)(a) provisionally to suspend the Head of the Directorate, pending an “enquiry into his or her fitness to hold office as the Minister deems fit” and then may then remove him or her from office for misconduct; on account of ill-health; on account of incapacity to carry out his or her duties of office efficiently; or on account thereof that he or she is no longer a fit and proper person to hold the office concerned. Subsection (3) allows removal from office by an address of the two Houses of Parliament for the same reasons as set out above. Where the Head is suspended, he or she shall receive no salary or such salary as the Minister will determine.

Four aspects of this provision might cause problems. First, any enquiry into the fitness of the Head of the Directorate to hold office will be conducted as the Minister sees fit. There are no formal requirements for how this enquiry should be conducted or who should conduct the enquiry. This wide discretion means that an enquiry could be conducted by the Minister him or herself or by someone in the Minister’s office watering down the safeguard of an objective determination on whether one of the four criteria for removal is in fact present. Second, the third requirement relating to the Head’s possible incapacity to carry out his or her duties of office efficiently, is exceedingly broad and not easily susceptible to objective determination.

The notion of efficiency renders the subsection overbroad and potentially allows the Minister to remove the Head of the Directorate if, in his or her opinion (or, in his or her stated opinion), the Head has not been efficient, opening the door for removal on non-objective grounds, which is not compatible with actual independence or perceived independence.

Third, when the Head of the Directorate is preliminary suspended, he or she could be suspended without a salary and could therefore in effect be punished even before he or she is formally removed, placing considerable potential power in the hands of the Minister to put pressure on the Head of the Directorate, and thus rendering the independence of the Head of the Directorate tenuous at best. Lastly, the two Houses of Parliament can remove the Head of the Directorate by “praying for such removal on any of the grounds” referred to above.

No enquiry is required in this regard and the wording is vague, which means the section could be interpreted as not requiring the two Houses of Parliament actually to have established as objective fact that one or more of the grounds listed is actually present. In one reading of this section, this would render this power as little more than the exercise of a political discretion which may not easily be reviewed by a Court, rendering the security of tenure and hence the independence of the Head of the Directorate.

These fears are reinforced by the heading of this section, which states that the section relates to “Loss of Confidence in Head of Directorate”. A “loss of confidence” is a subjective standard, not an objective standard, as it relates to whether the Minister or the Parliament had stopped having confidence in the Head of the Directorate and such loss of confidence could just as well relate to political reasons as to objective criteria reviewable by a court of law.

Despite the proposed amendments, the possibility of political influence and interference in the work of the Directorate looms large, both in fact and in terms of reasonable perceptions about such influence and interference. The requirements set out in the Glenister judgment (as discussed in section 2.2.3 above) have therefore not been met. Section 17CA(1) proposes that the Minister of Police, with the concurrence of the Cabinet, appoint the Head of the Directorate for a non-renewable term “not exceeding seven years”, while section 17CA(3) requires that the Deputy Head be appointed by the Head with the concurrence of the Minister of Police and section 17CA(4) requires that the Provincial Head of the Directorate to be appointed by the Head with the concurrence of the Minister of Police. This means that the Minister has a veto right over the appointment of the Deputy Head and the Provincial Heads of the Directorate.

No objective minimum criteria are prescribed regarding the skills, experience or commitment to independence of any of the men or woman appointed to these positions. In theory the Minister could appoint an outgoing member of Parliament of the governing party (or another political party) or a sitting member of the highest decision making body of the governing political party (or another political party), somebody without any police experience or someone embroiled in allegations of corruption, in any of these positions. Absent a mechanism that provides for safeguards against the appointment of individuals who are in fact or are perceived not to be politically partial, the perception may well be created that the Directorate is not in fact independent and will thus fly in the face of the requirement that the body should be independent in fact and in terms of perceptions.

The amendments also do not include any legally binding requirement that the Head of the Directorate or any other member of the Directorate need to fulfill his or her duties independently (or, alternatively) without fear, favour or prejudice. A proposed insertion of section 17E(9)(a) states that a member of the Directorate “shall serve impartially and exercise his or her powers or perform his or her functions in good faith” while section 17E(1) requires members to take an oath to “enforce the Law of the Republic without fear, favour or prejudice and, as the circumstances of any particular case may require, in accordance with the Constitution and the Law”.

There are several problems with this section. First, there is a distinction between serving impartially and acting in good faith, on the one hand, and being independent on the other. Second, there is no sanction for anyone not acting independently and impartially. Third, the oath seems to be at best ambivalent as it states that one needs to act without fear favour or prejudice but only “as the circumstances of any particular case may require” leaving open the possibility that this means that in certain cases one need not act so and need not act in accordance with the Constitution and the law if the circumstances of the particular case requires it.

A new proposed section 17D(1)(a)(A) states that the functions of the Directorate are, inter alia, to prevent, combat and investigate “in particular selected offences contemplated in Chapter 2 and section 34 of the Prevention and Combating of Corrupt Activities Act.” It is unclear what these “selected offenses” are intended to be and who will select the offenses. However section 17D(1)(a) and 17D(1)(c) states that national priority offenses and other offences can be investigated at discretion of Head or if it is referred to the unit by the National Commissioner, but this remains subject to policy guidelines issued by the Minister (currently the guidelines are to be issued by the Ministerial Committee).

The insertion of a specific focus on charges in terms of the Corruption Act, goes some way to allay fears of political influence and interference. However, corruption is often closely aligned with other offenses such as fraud. The fact that the Minister therefore would retain broad discretion to issue policy guidelines on which priority crimes to investigate might potentially hamstrung investigations in which fraud and corruption are intertwined. Such a broad discretion provided to apolitical actors was not compatible with independence as required by the judgment.

The judgment required far more effective mechanism to protect members of the Directorate from political influence and interference, both prospectively and retrospectively. The judgment thus found that section 17L did not meet the requirements for independence in this regard as the retired judge empowered to investigate allegations of undue influence could only deal with retrospective complaints of interference. Curiously, the proposed amendments wholly fail to address these concerns.

Although it is proposed that section 17L(7) be amended to allow a retired judge to obtain information from the NDPP, there are no proposals to create a structure that ab initio prevents political interference in the work of the corruption-fighting unit. As the judgment found, in some cases irreparable harm may have been caused which judicial review and complaints can do little to remedy. More importantly, many acts of interference may go undetected, or unreported, and never reach the judicial review or complaints stage. That is why it was necessary to create “adequate mechanisms designed to prevent interference in the first place” as this was required to ensure that political interference does not happen from the start. This failure renders the proposed Bill unconstitutional.

On changing the Constitution

Recent statements by politicians about the need to review the judgment of the Constitutional Court with a view to assess the need for changes to the Constitution, is often accompanied by assurances that the South African Constitution has already been amended 16 times. It is argued that the Constitution was a compromise document foisted on the people of South Africa by evil right-wingers, that the document has become a stumbling block to the effective governing of the country and hence has become a hinderance to the economic transformation of the country. Over the past year many ordinary folk, taking its cue from those talking about changing the Constitution, have taken up this whispering campaign against the Constitution.

There are two problems with this line of reasoning. First, the mere fact that the Constitution has been amended 16 times is irrelevant, as the number of amendments is not what is in issue. Rather what is in issue is the nature of any proposed amendments. Are they good for democracy and for the country or are they bad? Would they insulate the governing party from scrutiny when it flouts the law and the Constitution or would it enhance oversight and democratic accountability for any governing party? Would amendments rob citizens of their rights and their ability to have those rights enforced by the courts, or would it make it easier for citizens to enforce their rights? Would amendments hamper economic transformation by protecting the corrupt in government and the private sector, or would it advance transformation by ensuring open, accountable and transparent government with the requisite oversight powers for the courts?

What those who argue that the Constitution has been amended 16 times do not say, is that almost all of these amendments passed so far have been mere technical amendments of no real substantive or political effect. Where substantive amendments have been made, this has tended to weaken the Constitution and the checks and balances in it, instead of strengthening it, and as such was criticised by many in academia and civil society.

But most amendments have been entirely uncontroversial.

Thus the first amendment dealt with the oath of office to be sworn by the Acting President. Amendment two, inter alia, changed the name of the South African Human Rights Commission to that of Human Rights Commission. Amendment four was needed to confirm that a provincial legislature remains competent to function from the time it is dissolved or its term expires, until the day before the first day of polling for the next legislature. The fifth amendment, inter alia, was aimed at allowing a proclamation calling and setting dates for an election of the National Assembly to be issued either before or after the expiry of the term of the National Assembly. And on it goes.

So far only four sets of amendments of some importance and political relevance have been made to our Constitution. The sixth amendment stated that the head of the Constitutional Court (and not the head of the Supreme Court of Appeal) will become the Chief Justice of South Africa and also provided for the extension of the term of office of a Constitutional Court judge by the legislature. The second part of this amendment was highly controversial as it potentially affected the separation of powers and the security of tenure of Constitutional Court judges and was vigorously opposed by academics and civil society groups. It did not help that Parliament unconstitutionally tried to delegate the power to extend the term of office of a Constitutional Court judge to the President, a provision that was first relied upon by President Jacob Zuma when he wanted to extend the term of office of former Chief Justice Sandile Ngcobo.

The eighth, ninth and tenth amendments were passed to introduce the highly contentious floor crossing provisions, which allowed members of national and Provincial Parliaments and Municipalities to cross the floor during two window periods — as long as more than 10% of the members of the party crossed the floor. These provisions insulated the ANC from floor crossing (as it would have required between 25 and 30 ANC members to cross the floor together) but decimated smaller parties where even 1 person could easily cross the floor.

In 2009, after the Polokwane conference and in the face of threats of factionalism within the ANC, the fourteenth and fifteenth amendments were adopted to abolish the floor crossing, thus protecting the ANC from possible floor crossing defections by the losing factions of party elections at national, provincial and local government level.

The twelfth and thirteenth amendments provided for the elimination of cross-border municipalities by changes to the boundaries of certain provinces. These were highly contentious as citizens living in KwaZulu-Natal and Gauteng did not want to be moved to worst performing provinces of the Eastern Cape and North-West respectively. Despite valiant efforts by the people of Matatiele and Merafong, and despite some promises made to the contrary before national elections, the ANC used its then two-thirds majority to force these communities into provinces they did not want to go to.

Every proposed amendment to the Constitution must surely be evaluated on its merits. Amending the Constitution is not per se a problem. Only those proposed amendments to the Constitution that will protect the governing elite at the expense of citizens or will undermine the very nature of our Constitutional democracy, will be problematic. Each proposed amendment will have to be judged on its own merit.

Which brings me to the second problem with this talk about amending the Constitution. Those who argue that the Constitution must be amended because the Constitution has become a stumbling block to the effective governance of the country and hence in effect prevents social and economic transformation, are rather vague about how the Constitution should be amended.

There seems to be two general arguments circulating and being whispered about in this regard. First, some among us are upset that the courts can review and set aside decisions by the President, other members of the executive and other organs of state, when such decisions are not authorised by the Constitution or the law, do not comply with the Constitution or ordinary law or when these decisions are not rational (in other words, when the decisions are arbitrary, made in bad faith or capricious). This argument is based on the premise that those in government should not be bound by the law and should, in effect, be above the law.

For example, if the Constitution or an ordinary piece of legislation requires the President to appoint a “fit and proper” person to a position and he then decides to appoint somebody to that position who has been found guilty of corruption or murder, so the argument goes, it is not for the non-elected members of the judiciary to declare such an appointment invalid merely because the appointment did not meet the minimum requirements set by the law.

Such an argument is no more than an argument for lawlessness. Of course, in such a case there is nothing that prevents the legislature from amending the relevant legislation (or the Constitution – if the requisite majority can be mustered to do so) to abolish the requirement that only a “fit and proper” person should be appointed to the job. What cannot ever be accepted in a constitutional democracy, is a situation where the law and the Constitution can be flouted at will, with no recourse open to the courts to check this flouting of the law.

A second argument is made that the Constitution is a compromise document agreed on by the Constitutional Assembly in line with the 34 Constitutional Principles contained in the interim Constitution and as such lacks legitimacy because it contains many anti-transformation provisions.

Of course, the interim Constitution contained a provision that would have allowed the final certified Constitution to be submitted to voters in a referendum if two-thirds of the members of the Constitutional Assembly could not agree on the text. If at least 60% of the voters approved of the draft Constitution in a referendum, it would have taken effect. The ANC and the NP both avoided this by agreeing on the text. The fact that a referendum was never enforced suggest that the ANC was worried that its version of the Constitution would not obtain a 60% majority in a referendum. Instead both parties, after extensive public participation, agreed to a document which it could live with – although almost all commentators have since argued that the ANC out negotiated the National Party and secured a Constitution that was far closer to its original plans than they could have dreamed about.

In any case, it is unclear which provisions of the Constitution hinders social and economic transformation in South Africa. The property clause is often singled out in this regard, but as I have pointed out several time before that section does not require a “willing-buyer willing-seller” land reform process. Neither does it require the payment of market value for all land expropriated for purposes of land reform. Those who claim that the Constitution obstructs social and economic change has not yet been able to point to any other provisions in the Constitution that mitt be objectionable. This is probably because there are none.

Ours is not an exclusively liberal Constitution. Although it contains a system of government based on the separation of powers and checks and balances as well as all the traditional liberal human rights like freedom of expression, it also contains a set of social and economic rights that places a positive duty on the state to take reasonable steps to provide better and more expansive access to housing, health care, education and other social and economic rights. Moreover, the Constitution applies, to a large degree, horizontally also binding private individuals and institutions like businesses. This aspect is based on the view that the human rights of an individual can be trampled on not only by the state but also by powerful private interests and by individuals.

My question would be: which sections of the Constitution exactly are those that hinder transformation? In my view there are no such sections to be found in our Constitution. Those who argue that it might be time to amend the Constitution to effect social and economic transformation need to say which sections they find objectionable. We can then have a sensible debate about this question. In the absence of such clear proposals and arguments, the mutterings and whispers about the need to change the Constitution can be treated as ill-informed and self serving drivel by those who are seeking a scapegoat to avoid accountability for governance failures over the past 18 years.

My challenge to those who whisper and grumble about the need to change the Constitution is this: either put your cards on the table so that we can debate the issue or stop your self-serving campaign to discredit the Constitution. In the absence of concrete proposals one will have to assume that those who talk about changes to the Constitution are not interested in the well-being of South Africans, but rather in retaining power and access to tenders by scapegoating the Constitution.

A worrying attack on the Rule of Law

The decision of the Supreme Court of Appeal (SCA) on Tuesday in the Jacob Zuma case, must come as a political – but not yet as much of a legal – blow to President Jacob Zuma. Coming just as the unofficial succession debate is hotting up, this judgment will provide some ammunition to President Zuma’s opponents inside the ANC as it will remind party activist and ordinary voters alike that Zuma had a corruption case to answer, that his financial advisor was convicted of bribing him but that he never got his day in court to clear his name.

It is important to note that the decision does not deal with the merits of the case brought by the DA, as the NDPP and the President have been using stalling tactics to ensure that this case is not finalized before the ANC elective conference this December. The question of whether the decision of the National Director of Public Prosecutions (NDPP) to drop all corruption charges against Jacob Zuma was unlawful and should be set aside, will only be considered once an appeal of this judgment had been finalised by the Constitutional Court, and then only if the Constitutional Court confirms the SCA judgment.

Legally there is therefore still a long way to go. Even if the Constitutional Court confirms the SCA judgment, the merits of the case will then have to be ventilated in the High Court and will almost certainly be appealed to the SCA and then the Constitutional Court. But the Constitutional Court judgment might well be finalized before December, which would mean that if the SCA judgment is confirmed, the NDPP will have to hand over almost all relevant documents which were considered by the NDPP when he made the controversial decision to drop charges against Zuma to the court. The NDPP would not have to hand over the written submissions made to the NPA on behalf of Zuma as these documents are confidential – unless President Zuma waives his right to confidentiality in this regard.

As Navsa J explained, this will present difficult choices for the NDPP and for President Zuma, as they run the risk of ultimately losing the case if they fail to put sufficient documents before the court to legally justify the decision to drop the charges against the President. Such information, crucially, will have to include evidence of the tape recordings which ostensibly led to the dropping of charges as well as evidence about the way the tapes were obtained and by whom they were made. I quote from the judgment.

In the event of an order compelling production of the record, the office of the NDPP will be obliged to make available whatever was before Mr Mpshe when he made the decision to discontinue the prosecution. It will then fall to the reviewing court to assess its value in answering the questions posed in the review application. If the reduced record provides an incomplete picture it might well have the effect of the NDPP being at risk of not being able to justify the decision. This might be the result of Mr Zuma’s decision not to waive the confidentiality of the representations made by him. On the other hand, a reduced record might redound to the benefit of the NDPP and Mr Zuma.

Interestingly, the SCA decided not to deal with the question of whether a decision by the NPA to drop charges constituted administrative action under the Promotion of Administrative Justice Act (PAJA). Instead it found that the decision was reviewable under section 1(c) of the Constitution. This is where the curious statement of the ANC becomes relevant. In the statement following the judgment the ANC said, amongst others:

This matter, whilst it receives a deeper legal analysis, we however want to highlight the following:

  • The continued attempt by the DA to use the Courts to undermine and paralyse government.
  • The granting of blanket permission to political parties to can review any State decisions, using Courts.
  • How the DA will conduct a review of the case when it can`t have access to all the information which informed the NDPPs decision, to withdraw the charges.

Given these facts, it is clear that democracy can be undermined by simply approaching courts to reverse any decision arrived at by a qualified organ of State.

Leaving aside for the moment that the NPA is not part of government as suggested by the statement, but in fact an independent body that must make decisions on whether to charge and prosecute somebody “without fear, favour or prejudice, the statement shows a worrying lack of understanding of the Rule of Law. The Rule of Law requires, at a minimum, that public power must be exercised in accordance with the law and in a rational manner. The ANC statement suggests that when the government of the day (or in this case the NPA) acted illegally (in the sense that it ignored the law or was not authorised by law to act or where there was no rational relationship between the act and the reasons given for the act, then a political party should not be allowed to approach a court to challenge this flouting of the law and the Constitution as this would open the floodgates of litigation, would undermine all organs of state and would paralyse government.

As I see it, this seems like an extraordinary admission on the part of the ANC that the government it heads flouts the law and the Constitution so regularly that it would be completely paralysed if it is taken to court every time this happens. Why else would political parties flood the courts (spending millions of Rand they could have spent on election campaigns) unless they believe they can prove that the government has flouted the law. I am not sure the statement was meant to make this admission, but that is the necessary implication of it. The SCA dealt with the floodgates argument in the following (to my mind convincing) passage, starting with a quote from a High Court judgment:

“One of the principal objections often raised against the adoption of a more flexible approach to the problem of locus standi the floodgates will thereby be opened, giving rise to an uncontrollable torrent of litigation. It is well, however, to bear in mind a remark made by Mr Justice Kirby, President of the New South Wales Court of Appeal, in the course of an address at the Tenth Anniversary Conference of the Legal Resources Centre, namely that it may sometimes be necessary to open the floodgates in order to irrigate the arid ground below them. I am not persuaded by the argument that to afford locus standi to a body such as first applicant in circumstances such as these would be to open the floodgates to a torrent of frivolous or vexatious litigation against the State by cranks or busybodies. Neither am I persuaded, given the exorbitant costs of Supreme Court litigation, that should the law be so adapted cranks and busybodies would indeed flood the courts with vexatious or frivolous applications against the State. Should they be tempted to do so, I have no doubt that appropriate order of costs would soon inhibit their litigious ardour.”

Thirdly, as was pointed out by Budlender, ‘if the cases are well-founded, there can be no objection to a flood of people trying to achieve justice’.

What the ANC does not seem to understand is what is at stake here: the very essence of respect for the Rule of Law, a founding value of our Constitution contained in section 1(c) of the Constitution. That section proclaims the supremacy of the Constitution and the concomitant supremacy of the Rule of Law. In fulfilling the constitutional duty of testing the exercise of public power against the Constitution, courts are protecting the very essence of a constitutional democracy. When a political party approaches the court on a Rule of Law question, it is also helping to safeguard democracy. This principle is important, and is explained thus in the judgment:

Put simply, it means that each of the arms of government and every citizen, institution or other recognised legal entity, are all bound by and equal before the law. Put differently, it means that none of us is above the law. It is a concept that we, as a nation, must cherish, nurture and protect. We must be intent on ensuring that it is ingrained in the national psyche. It is our best guarantee against tyranny, now and in the future.

The ANC should have thanked the DA for spending pots of money to safeguard this cherished principle, money they could have spent to fight elections. This does not mean the DA will ultimately win their case. This will have to be decided afresh by the High Court. There are two aspects relating to the Rule of Law that might be relevant to this case, depending on the facts and depending on the evidence placed before a court.

First, although the judgment does not expressly say so, the NDPP would not have acted in accordance with the law and the Constitution, if he had dropped the charges on grounds not provided for in the NPA’s prosecuting policy to which the NPA is bound. What will make the NDPP’s case more difficult is that the acting NDPP, Mokothedi Mpshe, had failed to refer to the prosecuting policy at all when he provided reasons for the dropping of charges. The argument would therefore be that the charges were not dropped in accordance with this legally binding prosecution policy and was thus unlawful and an affront to the Rule of Law.

But there is a second aspect of the Rule of Law which might apply here. This is that when public power is exercised in terms of the Constitution or other legislation, this exercise of power had to be rational. As Navsa pointed out, “the rule of law also requires rationality as a prerequisite for the validity of the exercise of all public power”. This means that where somebody exercises public power, there must be a rational connection between the decision taken and the stated reasons or goal of that decision. Where reasons were cribbed from an overturned Hong Kong decision, say, the body making the decision will have some work to do to convince a court that the decision was rational.

However, it is important to note that the SCA did not endorse the view that the decision would have to be viewed on these two grounds. That, said Navsa, was a question for the high court – the court seized with the application for the review. Because arguments made by the NDPP about the extent to which the decision was reviewable were premature, it was for the High Court to determine the grounds of review. Criticising the now suspended head of the NDPP, Menzi Simelane, (which was not the first time Simelane has been criticised by our courts) on this point, the SCA remarked that it “is difficult to understand why it persisted in pursuing the appeal on this aspect. It does not reflect well on the NDPP.”

It might well be that eventually a court will decide that there are sufficient reasons to grant a permanent stay of prosecution in this case. But usually those decisions are taken by a judge, not by the NDPP. If the NDPP had acted irrationally or if it had not followed its own prosecution policy it would have flouted the law for political reasons and would have treated one person – the current President – as above the law. That is why it is important that the courts decide whether this decision was valid or not. Who knows, the evidence provided by the NDPP (and perhaps by President Zuma, if he decides to release his submissions to the NDPP) might satisfy the courts that this decision did not flout the Rule of Law.

If that were to be the case, the ANC would have again have to thank the DA for clearing this up and for helping our courts to reaffirm our confidence in our prosecuting authority. At the moment the NPA is not a body that instils much confidence with anybody, as there is some evidence that it has been politically captured by the Zuma faction inside the ANC over the past three years (and there is some evidence that it was politically captured by the Mbeki faction before that). I suspect the statement was made not because of a sudden attack of conscience or principle on the part of the ANC, but rather because the judgment provided a political opening for opponents of President Jacob Zuma and needed to be discredited.

In doing so, this statement represents a worrying attack on the Rule of Law.

How can we solve problems with our electoral system?

In certain circles it is fashionable to complain about South Africa’s electoral system and to state that South Africa’s democracy will work almost perfectly if only we changed the electoral system. But although our electoral system is far from perfect, the changing of the electoral system will not magically turn our MP’s into fearless fighter for justice. Neither will it necessarily bring elected representatives closer to the people.

After all, half of our representatives at local level are directly elected in wards and no one is claiming that local government in all towns and cities is working perfectly. And, one suspects, many who yearn for the strengthening of the link between MP’s and voters would be horrified if MP’s actually started representing the true interests of those they represented and voted as their constituents want them to on all issues — including abortion, gay rights, the death penalty and gender rights.

Not that the present system is optimal. In South Africa, at both national and provincial level, we only vote for a political party, never for an individual. The political parties decide which candidates appear at what positions on their electoral lists and political parties therefore in effect decide who will represent us voters in the various legislatures. (Voters merely decide how many representatives from each party list will eventually go to the various legislatures.)

If someone appears at number 1 on the party list, that person is going to represent his or her party in the National Assembly as long as his or her party obtains at least 0.25% of the vote. If a party obtains 50% of the vote in the election, the first 200 names on its party list will go to the National Assembly.

Where the selection of representatives to party lists are done according to a system of internal party democracy and where the lists cannot be changed by party leaders — either before the election or after the election — and where MP’s cannot be removed from Parliament once elected, there is at least a semblance of democracy present in the selection of MP’s and in their post-election role. But where a political party change party lists more or less compiled in an intra-party democratic process (as is the case with the ANC) or where the members are never given a real choice but where selection of party candidates is done by an elite selection committee of party leaders (as is the case with the DA), ordinary voters have almost no say in who would represent them in Parliament.

This means that members of Parliament are not beholden to voters at all and have no independent power base and they have no incentive to listen to and respond to the wishes of the electorate in their informally allocated “constituencies”. Instead they are wholly beholden to the party bosses who can give them instructions on how to behave in the legislature, which Bills to vote for, and how vigorously to hold members of the executive to account.  As these MP’s can be removed them from Parliament if they do not behave as the party wishes, only the most brave or foolhardy MP’s will consistently act according to their conscience or the wishes of their “constituents”.

Both the ANC and the DA remove members from Parliament for various reasons or shift them around from one legislature to the other to promote or demote them. Not that ordinary voters would notice this, because we have no clue who represents us in Parliament. This is because MP’s first and foremost represent their political parties, instead of geographically defined constituencies, and can afford to ignore the voters in the area to which their parties assign them.

In South Africa the democratic nature of the system is further weakened by the fact that we have a Parliamentary government. The majority party in the National Assembly elects the President. If one party were to receive less than 50% of the votes, a coalition of parties will have to agree on the election of a President.

This means that ordinary voters has never gotten the chance to vote for the President and for the executive, who only remains in the executive for as long as the party they belong to can muster a majority in the National Assembly. THat is why Thabo Mbeki was never directly elected by the voters. He was indirectly elected by the MP’s of the majority party who elected him as President because he was selected as President of the majority party at a party elective conference where about 4000 delegates could vote (although his two elections as ANC President were unopposed so there was actually no vote by ANC members in favour of his Presidency).

Some ardent critics of this system argue that we should ditch the closed list proportional representation system in favour of a first-past-the-post system in which we elect one representative who obtains the most votes in each distinct constituency. It is argued that if MP’s were to be elected directly by voters in constituencies, those MP’s would be far more responsive to the needs of the voters in the constituencies and would be far more willing to ensure that the hopes and dreams of their constituents find expression in our legislatures.

Moreover, so it is argued, in such a system MP’s would have an independent power base and would be able to defy party bosses and act independently according to their conscience when they think this is required (say when they have to uncover a serious financial scandal or when they wished to vote against Bills introducing abortion, more controls over shoot-to-kill police officers to prevent them from murdering too many innocent civilians, or same-sex marriage).

But in South Africa it is far from clear that this will be the case and that MP’s will act in a more responsive manner — even if directly elected. MP’s are most responsive if they are scared that they will lose their seat in the next election. Where the support of major parties are concentrated in certain areas where their elected representatives will have unassailable majorities, the MP elected for his or her party will have little incentive to listen to his constituents because they will vote for him or her because he or she happens to be a member of the popular party in that constituency.

In most parts of South Africa, a ward will be either dominated by the ANC or the DA and no matter what happens (Jacob Zuma getting convicted of corruption; Helen Zille caught stealing a Billion Rand), the traditional supporters of these parties will vote en masse for their candidate and that candidate will be almost just as unresponsive to the needs of the voters than he or she would have been under a system of close proportional representation.

Moreover, where support for an MP is linked to support for the government of the day (as is the case in our system where the President is elected by Parliament and not directly by voters), it is far from clear that voters will change their electoral behaviour based on how much they like or respect an individual MP in their constituency.

Say an ANC MP works tirelessly for her constituents in Sandton and is much respected and loved because of her hard work, her fearlessness and her independent spirit, she will still lose her seat. This is because the dominant DA electorate is still not going to vote her back into Parliament because to form a government the DA would need a majority of seats in Parliament (or may need more MP’s to form a “wrong opposition”) and the voters would vote their party allegiance rather than for the individual MP. That is why individual characteristics of a Congressman or Woman in the USA (where the government is elected via independent Presidential elections) would matter far more than the individual characteristics of an MP in the United Kingdom (where the majority party in Parliament forms a government).

There is another point: In the USA, where representatives standing in elections are selected in primary elections by the voters registered as members of a particular party, the members of Congress are far more likely to respond directly to the wishes of their constituents. This means that the Congress will be far more likely to hold the executive to account and will not always agree to pass laws proposed by the President. This is different from our system where the parliamentarians are selected by party bosses or by an elite group within the party.

(Nevertheless, even in the USA, over the past 15 years the members of Congress and the Senate have become far more reliably split along ideological lines and even the most conservative Democrat is now just about as conservative as the most liberal Republican.) In the UK and in South Africa where the party leaders play a decisive role in deciding who MP’s will be, those MP’s are going to be more beholden to party bosses than voters — even if they are elected in single member first-past-the-post constituency elections.

All this suggests that changing the electoral system alone would not make a big difference in the way our MP’s operate. As long as our political culture valorises strong political parties and insists on strong allegiances to political parties and as long as political parties do not embrace full internal party democracy in the selection of MP’s, a change in the system will hardly make any differences.

And as long as voters vote for parties because of their emotional allegiance to the party, instead of voting for a party because of the ideological disposition of that party or the strong character of the representative of a particular party, the election will not produce highly responsive MP’s – no matter what electoral system is used. Here is a quick test: how many traditional white DA voters (who have voted for the party since at least 1999) have ever considered voting for the ANC? A large majority of white DA voters will vote for the DA no matter who the candidate is.

The only way to change this dynamic is to put in place mechanism to weaken party discipline over elected representatives. This can be done by enforcing internal party democracy on all parties, by protecting elected MP’s from their parties by providing them with job security for the life of the Parliament, and by introducing an element of direct representation via constituency elections. Introducing direct Presidential elections might also help, although this would provide the executive with its own mandate from voters that will strengthen the powers of the President vis-a-vis those of Parliament, leading to the potential creation of an imperial Presidency with all the concomitant dangers of abuse of powers that go with this (just ask Americans who remember the abuse of power by Richard Nixon).

There is no perfect electoral system. In the absence of a change in the political dynamics in South Africa and the watering down of party discipline, we are bound to end up with a legislature that will do the bidding of the party leadership, instead of the voters. Whether this is necessarily a bad thing is open to question. Many of the more progressive laws in South Africa would never have been passed by Parliament had it not been for strong party discipline. Progressives are therefore faced with a conundrum: in principle a more representative and democratically responsive legislature would depend democracy, but it may also well lead to a far more reactionary Parliament and government.

How do we solve this conundrum? For once, I am not at all sure whether I have the answer to this question. Maybe readers of this Blog have some suggestions?

Another blow to the credibility of the JSC?

At first blush it may appear as if South Africa’s judges and senior constitutional lawyers have all been struck by a remarkable bout of humility and lack of ambition – not traits your average lawyer or judge is usually suspected of. Why else would no credible candidate (except Labour Appeals Court judge Ray Zondo) allow him or herself to be nominated for a job on South Africa’s Constitutional Court?

The Judicial Service Commission (JSC) announced yesterday that no one was shortlisted for the vacant position on the Constitutional Court because there were not a sufficient number of suitable candidates to shortlist for this job (despite an extension of the deadline for nomination to the highest court).

Apparently not even Justice Mandisa Maya of the Supreme Court of Appeal (who is currently acting on the Constitutional Court) put her name forward for nomination to the highest court. Neither did any of the other female candidates who might plausible stand a chance of being appointed to the Constitutional Court.

This might seem curious, as currently only two of the eleven serving judges on the Constitutional Court are female. If one were to take seriously the claim by the government and some members of the JSC that they were committed to apply section 174(2) of the Constitution when they considered judges for appointment – a section that states that “[t]he need for the judiciary to reflect broadly the racial and gender composition of South Africa must be considered when judicial officers are appointed” – then one would have thought that the JSC would clamour to  recommend a number of credible and competent female judges for appointment and that the President would appoint a woman judge to the vacant position.

Section 174(4) prescribes the procedure for the appointment of ordinary judges to the Constitutional Court (that is, Constitutional Court judges other than the Chief Justice and the Deputy Chief Justice):

The other judges of the Constitutional Court are appointed by the President, as head of the national executive, after consulting the Chief Justice and the leaders of parties represented in the National Assembly, in accordance with the following procedure:

  1. The Judicial Service Commission must prepare a list of nominees with three names more than the number of appointments to be made, and submit the list to the President.
  2. The President may make appointments from the list, and must advise the Judicial Service Commission, with reasons, if any of the nominees are unacceptable and any appointment remains to be made.
  3. The Judicial Service Commission must supplement the list with further nominees and the President must make the remaining appointments from the supplemented list.

This means that when there is  one vacancy on the Court (as is presently the case), the JSC must select four appointable candidates and must submit this list of four names to the President who can then select one of the four names nominated by the JSC after the requisite consultation with the Chief Justice (and opposition parties). One assumes that the JSC decided that there were not four appointable nominees and the process was thus aborted. The reluctance of suitably qualified women judges or academics to put their names forward during this round could be explained in several ways.

First, it might be that all the strongest women candidates currently believe that the JSC and the President are not serious about gender transformation of the bench. If this were to be so, the question would arise as to why this perception could have taken hold. Some might argue that the appointment of a Chief Justice (whose previous judgments exhibited a rather lenient approach to sexual violence against women) might have helped to create this perception. The perception could also have been fostered by the previous round of appointments when only one of the four candidates appointed to the Constitutional Court was a woman, despite the fact that several strong female candidates were in the running for appointment.

Second, a perception might have been created that the Chief Justice and the majority of members of the JSC had already decided who it wanted to appoint to the Constitutional Court this time around and that any process in which candidates were interviewed would be little more than a sham aimed at providing some credibility to a formal exercise whose outcome was predetermined. (I have no credible information indicating that such a perception had been created or if it had been created, how it might have arisen and who the preferred candidate might be.)

Third, the fact that so few candidates were prepared to put their names forward for appointment to the Constitutional Court may well be based on a lack of trust in the JSC and the process it follows to decide who to nominate for appointment. Given the way in which it has conducted itself in the past, this body is perhaps suffering from a serious lack of credibility. The sycophantic behaviour of some members of the JSC during the interview conducted last year with the only “nominee” for the post of Chief Justice, might have helped to create this distrust in the ability or willingness of members of the JSC to conduct real and helpful interviews with candidates.

Moreover, the persistent failure by almost all JSC members to engage nominees on their judicial philosophy and their attitudes to the substantive legal issues, may have disheartened most credible candidates who may have felt that their intellectual abilities, their progressive judicial philosophy and their compassion will not be noticed because of a lack of substantive probing questioning put to them and, if it were to be noticed, would play no role in the decision on who to nominate or appoint.

Why do JSC members seldom ask a nominee about his or her views about the role of the courts in transforming the common law by applying section 39(2) of the Constitution to interpret and develop the common law in order to bring it in line with the spirit, purport and objects of the Bill of Rights? Such questioning would provide the JSC with telling information about the transformation credentials of the candidate. Why do members of the JSC almost never ask a candidate about his or her views on “reasonableness review” in social and economic rights cases and whether this standard of review was appropriate? Why are candidates almost never asked how they view hate speech and its limits?

Why are candidates not confronted with questions about the nature of our democracy established by our Constitution? It would be helpful to know whether a candidate is a strong supporter of the view that our Constitution requires a form of participatory democracy and that it requires judges to act decisively to protect and advance the rights of citizens to enable them to participate in our democracy. It would also, surely, be helpful, to know whether a candidate slavishly supports a narrow notion of representative democracy and envisages a limited role for courts in safeguarding the democratic rights of citizens.

Surely both the Chief Justice and the other members of the JSC need to do serious introspection about the process through which Constitutional Court judges are nominated and appointed to the Constitutional Court? Surely one can find a way to balance the requirement to appoint an intellectually curious, highly intelligent, technically competent and principled judge on the one hand, with the requirement to appoint a compassionate, progressive judge imbued with the transformative values of the Constitution on the other?

But to do that, one will have to be prepared to appoint judges that are capable and willing to engage in robust intellectual debates with the members of the JSC and incumbent members of the Constitutional Court (after appointment) and will interpret and apply the Constitution with integrity and in a fearless manner. The question inevitably arise whether the JSC is prepared to nominate and the President is prepared to appoint such judges, or whether they would rather appoint an altogether more timid, conservative and intellectually pliant crop of judges.

Thoughts on scapegoating and endemic corruption

I am currently reading Michela Wrong’s brilliant but depressing, It’s Our Turn To Eat, the story of John Githongo, the Kenyan whistle-blower who took on the government of President Mwai Kibaki, whose members were turning out to be just as deeply mired in corruption as the outgoing government of former President Daniel arap Moi. The book shows what happens if the ruling political class of a country becomes enmeshed in endemic corruption and how difficult it is to turn back the tide of corruption once it has engulfed the ruling party and its leaders.

The members of the elite are usually bribed by members of local big business or by foreign businessmen and women, out to make a fast buck at the expense of the poor. The corrupt political elites make obscene amounts of money while the business elites rake in huge profits by providing shoddy products and services (from houses, to building leases, to medical supplies, to computer equipment) at hugely inflated prices – all because they had paid the requisite bribes to the ruling party or the relevant leaders of that party.

The voters (and especially the poorest voters who have no political connections and who rely on the government to provide it with basic services and opportunities to enhance their life chances) end up suffering while their leaders flaunt their money by buying Rolex watches, expensive cars and gaudy three story faux Tuscan Villas that resemble badly made children’s birthday cakes. (In one poignant scene Githongo relates how it took just three months before the newly installed Kibaki was spotted with a brand new Rolex watch, a sure sign that corruption has set in, according to him.)

It becomes almost impossible to stop this tide of corruption because of an absence of truly independent institutions with the requisite power to investigate and prosecute corruption at every level. If corruption goes right to the top, and if those at the top know that they are protected from criminal investigation or prosecution because they control the police, the intelligence services (who can be relied upon to launch smear campaigns against anyone who asks too many questions or can intimidate and blackmail those who wish to fight corruption) then there is no way that corruption will be stopped. When one is safe in the knowledge that loyal lieutenants are in charge of the police, the intelligence services and any other corruption busting unit, then one can “eat” at one’s hearts content.

Of course, all the “eating” leads to discontent from voters, so a governing party, deeply mired in corruption, will then have to find scapegoats to blame for its shoddy performance and for the lack of service delivery brought about by their corrupt “eating” of state resources. One can blame the last remaining members of the former colonial elite who might be quite rich and might easily be painted as the original perpetrators of the injustices still suffered by the impoverished and unconnected citizens (especially if those colonial types have shown no remorse for their involvement in past injustice and no readiness to help build a new society, instead whining and moaning from the side-lines with a metaphoric white bread clutched under each arm).

One may also blame the Constitution or the judges who interpret and apply the Constitution and argue that these untransformed judges and a Constitution imposed by the colonists are to blame for the slow pace of change. One can blame the opposition party who, instead of loyally trying to help solve problems, moan and complain in a most disgracefully disloyal and unpatriotic manner. Or one can try to redirect the anger of voters to unpopular groups in society: gays and lesbians; foreigners from elsewhere on the continent, Jews or Indians.

It is in this context that the abolition of the Scorpions, its replacement by The Hawks and the eventual decision by a majority of judges of the Constitutional Court declaring invalid the creation of The Hawks must be seen. Although the majority judgment is probably not the best argued judgment ever delivered by the Constitutional Court, it does attempt to grapple with the problem of how to fight corruption in a country where loyalty to the ANC might well mute most attempts by crime fighting bosses to engage in a fearless fight against corruption – even if the corruption leads to the highest level.

The Constitutional Court reminded us that only an independent body – one that is viewed as independent and is indeed independent – would stand a chance of fighting corruption.

Thus the majority judgment stated that the Constitution‘s requirement that a politician must be responsible for policing does not require that the anti-corruption unit must itself function under political oversight. This did not mean that such a body had to be insulated from political accountability. But it did mean that such a body had to be insulated from “a degree of management by political actors that threatens imminently to stifle the independent functioning and operations of the unit”.

But for the majority the gravest problem with the Hawks arises from the fact that the new entity‘s activities must be coordinated by Cabinet. The statute provides that a Ministerial Committee, which must include at least the Ministers for Police, Finance, Home Affairs, Intelligence and Justice may determine policy guidelines in respect of the functioning of the Hawks as well as for the selection of national priority offences. The Hawks is therefore not explicitly a corruption fighting unit. It is a unit that fights “priority crimes” and the politicians could decide what these “priority crimes” should be. This creates a risk of political and executive influence over the Hawks. As the majority pointed out:

It is true that the policy guidelines the Ministerial Committee may issue could be broad and thus harmless. But they might not be broad and harmless. Nothing in the statute requires that they be. Indeed, the power of the Ministerial Committee to determine guidelines appears to be untrammelled. The guidelines could, thus, specify categories of offences that it is not appropriate for the DPCI [the Hawks] to investigate — or, conceivably, categories of political office-bearers whom the DPCI is prohibited from investigating.

It therefore came as a surprise to read that the proposed amendments to the South African Police Service Act purporting to give effect to the Glenister case does not remove the power of the politicians over the “new” body. Instead, it seems to grant more power to the Minister of Police (and more worrying, to the Intelligence Services) to Appoint and fire the head of the “new” unit.

In terms of this draft law the Minister appoints the head of the Directorate, who can investigate corruption but “subject to policy guidelines issued by the Minister and approved by Parliament” This means that the politicians will in effect control the kind of cases that the new unit will be able to investigate.

The Minister may suspend and ultimately fire the Director on the basis of relatively objective criteria such as misconduct, ill-health and him no longer being a fit and proper person, but also for a completely vague reason that he or she can no longer fulfil the duties of the office efficiently. Incidentally this section is headed “loss of confidence in the Head of the Directorate” which gives the game away: if the Minister no longer has confidence that the Director will investigate the “right” types of corruption and not the “wrong” types of corruption, he will be done for.

The Intelligence Service is also given powers to grant or withdraw security clearance to anyone working at this “independent” body. If clearance is withdrawn that person will no longer be able tow ork for the independent corruption fighting body. This means that the politician who controls the intelligence services (in our case this will be the President) will be able to make sure that no investigator in this “independent” unit will make too much trouble for those who are too well-connected or too close to the President himself.

The members of the “new” “independent” Directorate also remain members of the South African Police Service with all the duties of a normal Police officer.

After a first look, these proposals do not seem to come near to meeting the requirements for an independent corruption fighting unit as set out by the majority in the Glenister case. Of course, the truth of the matter is that if the corruption goes right to the top and if the intelligence services are in on the “eating” then it will probably make very little difference what “independent” corruption fighting body is created as it will not be able to fight the endemic corruption engulfing the governing party and the state.

The sad fact is that we will know that we are at that point when the scapegoating of the Constitution or other easy targets like foreigners or gays and lesbians by the ruling party reaches such a crescendo that it cannot but be an excuse to hide behind to evade responsibility for its corrupt governance. I leave it up to readers of this Blog to decide for themselves whether we have reached or are about to reach that point in South Africa.

A re-think on the Provinces?

The various ANC discussion documents released by the ANC regarding the so called “second transition” makes for interesting reading. As the dominant party in our democracy, one that styles itself as a movement that represents the hopes and dreams of the nation (rather than as a normal political party) and as the driver of social change, the ANC’s discussion documents grapple with what it sees as the challenge of strengthening the party’s hold on state power, and to transform the state machinery to serve the cause of social change.

To this end, the proposals for changes to the provincial (as well as local) government is of particular interest. The ANC document recognises that at present the provincial and local government does not function as effectively as it should to provide services to the people. It rejects proposal for the abolition of Provinces, something that is in any case not politically feasible because of the vested interests of those forces in the ANC who have access to power (and the financial perks that come with it) at Provincial level and would not want to lose their influence, power and access to tenders.

Instead the document argues that the “problems emanating from the existence of Provinces are not structural but are more functional and to do with powers… Provinces must be strengthened to play a much more supportive role to local government in service delivery. Thus the powers and functions of provincial government must be re-focused and aligned to complement service delivery at local government.” This seems correct, as the Provinces at present fails to fulfil its task because they are neither full-blown policy developers and implementers, nor mere mechanisms for the implementation of national government policies.

Provinces are seen as important in enhancing the system of both representative and participatory democracy in our system of government. However, this does not mean that the Constitution might not have to be changed. To this end the following important proposals are put on the table for discussion:

The ANC government must reform, rationalize and strengthen provinces. This must ensure the following;

  • That we have fewer provinces which are functional, effective, economically sustainable, integrate communities on non-racial basis and do away with ethnic boundaries.
  • That the powers and functions of the provincial sphere of government be strengthened to ensure more functionality, economic viability and racial/ethnic integration.
  • The role of provincial legislatures be refocused, and mechanism to strengthen legislatures be developed.
  • Consideration of municipal representation in legislatures to strengthen participatory democracy and representation.
  • The roles and responsibilities of provinces to be legislated so as to remove any uncertainty and disputes. This is especially necessary since the district level of government is to be reviewed.

It is difficult not to read these proposals, with its emphasis on the need for the integration of racial and ethnic communities, as being partly aimed at the Western Cape, where the DA is in power and where Africans do not form a majority of the electorate. The ANC document seems to recognise the potentially controversial nature of any rationalisation of the Provinces – especially if it will involve the Western Cape – and as such the discussion document contains assurances that the “process to reform, rationalise and strengthen provinces” will be “open, democratic and ensure broader consultation and participation by the public”. The document then continues:

The ANC must give serious consideration to constitutional requirements to carry out the above, in case there is a need for fundamental changes to provinces. The envisaged policy changes might require constitutional amendments. The key political parties must be sufficiently consulted and be allowed a space to play a role in shaping the provincial reforms.

These sensitivities may also relate to the fact that any changes to the Constitution to rationalise the Provinces will not be easily achieved. Section 74(3) of the Constitution states that most provisions in the Constitution may be amended by a Bill passed by the National Assembly, with a supporting vote of at least two thirds of its members; and also by the National Council of Provinces, with a supporting vote of at least six provinces, if the amendment relates to a matter that affects the National Council of Provinces; alters provincial boundaries, powers, functions or institutions; or amends a provision that deals specifically with a provincial matter.

More importantly, section 74(8) states that any amendment that relates to a matter that affects the NCOP; alters provincial boundaries, powers, functions or institutions; or amends a provision that deals specifically with a provincial matter, but “concerns only a specific province or provinces”, can only be passed by the National Council of Provinces if the amendment “has been approved by the legislature or legislatures of the province or provinces concerned”.

This means that any amendment to the boundaries of the Western Cape Province will have to be approved by the Western Cape legislature, something that seems unlikely as long as the DA controls the Western Cape legislature. If such amendments are indeed envisaged, there are two ways around this problem.

The first would be for the ANC to win the next Provincial election in the Western Cape, something that seems unlikely in the near future. The DA has the power of incumbency that works in its favour and it will use that power (and the resources that it controls because of this) to good effect to ensure its dominance in the Province in the near future. Moreover, the ANC in the Western Cape is internally weak and has not yet recovered from the destructive internal battles which raged during the tenure of former Premier Ebrahim Rasool, leaving the party in a relatively weak position.

The second would be to try and amend section 74(8) of the Constitution itself in order to scrap the provision that would require the support of the Provincial legislature for any changes in Provincial boundaries. As section 74(8) itself does not contain a super entrenchment provision regarding its own amendment and thus does not prohibit an amendment of section 74(8) except with the approval of all the Provincial legislatures, this would be possible as long as the governing party could obtain a two-thirds majority in the National Assembly, something that might be achievable through co-option of smaller parties in the National Assembly (or through achievement of a two-thirds majority in the next national election).

Amending the boundaries of the Western Cape would make a lot of political sense for the ANC. Political scientists who write about one party dominant democracies have argued — often pointing to the loss of electoral dominance by the Indian Congress Party after it started losing elections in various states — that one way in which a dominant party often loses its electoral dominance is when other parties start winning regional elections. When this happens, the smaller parties (in this case it would be the DA) will suddenly gain an independent governance base and access to power and resources at a regional level. Ambitious politicians will then no longer have to join or remain in the dominant party to become part of government while the smaller parties can theoretically demonstrate that it is capable of governing just as well or much better than the dominant party.

The smaller party who wins a regional election will also gain access to state resources at regional level and will suddenly become an attractive partner for the business elite and other role players who would want to gain that party’s favour to get access to tenders and other economic opportunities. This will weaken the absolute dominance of the party that governs nationally and will open up opportunities for further regional gains for smaller parties in other regions (or in our case, Provinces).

Whether the DA is well placed to use its electoral dominance in the Western Cape in this way is an open question. Unless it can transform itself in quite fundamental ways the electorate in other Provinces might not flock to it under any circumstances. But as long as the DA controls the Western Cape, it poses at least a potential threat to the continued national electoral dominance of the ANC, so it would make sense for the ANC to neutralise this threat by changing the boundaries of the Western Cape to rob the DA of its majority.

Such a shameless power play by the ANC (if it were to happen) will, however, not be without its dangers. Where the dominant party acts in ways that robs it of its legitimacy in the eyes of the voters — for example, by demonstrating what appears to be a shameless hunger to cling to power at any cost — this may drive its traditional voters into the arms of the opposition as these voters may value their democracy (and their sense of having a real right to choose their leaders) just as much (or more) than they value their emotional bond with the dominant party. It may also lead to a re-alignment of the political landscape as disillusioned democrats within the dominant party may reject such a naked power grab and may then break from the dominant party.

No wonder the ANC is treading carefully and is suggesting that key political parties (which one assumes would include the DA) should be allowed a space to play its role in the re-shaping of provinces. If it is indeed its intention to rob the DA of its governance role in the Western Cape (something that is not explicitly stated in the discussion document), it may well lose credibility and legitimacy among some of its core voters — especially if it changes section 74(8) of the Constitution.

Another brilliant idea by our political youngsters

Criticism of members of the judiciary and the supposed “undemocratic” nature of our constitutional system with its supreme Constitution, enforced by an independent and impartial judiciary, is intensifying.

This is not surprising.

In a one-party dominant democracy in which access to state power also potentially provides undeserved access to immense financial wealth, acquired legally or illegally through the tender process or through high-end government jobs (with its accompanying perks), independent institutions (especially powerful independent institutions staffed by people of integrity) can easily be seen as a mortal threat to the acquisitive ambitions of the looting classes.

In order to maintain their political dominance and in order not to lose all legitimacy in the eyes of ordinary citizens, the looting classes need to draw a veil over their venal actions, by uttering platitudes about their abiding concern for the poor (on whose behalf they so enthusiastically sip champagne) and by expressing concerns about the slow pace of transformation and the “undemocratic” nature of those independent institutions that stand between them and the enjoyment of immense wealth and, perhaps as an afterthought, political power.

After all, no one wishes to spend 15 years in jail (or, in a best case scenario, a few years in a prison hospital), so it is imperative that the “right” person heads the National Prosecuting Authority and the “right” person heads the office of the Public Protector in order to immunise the looters from criminal prosecution for corruption. And of course, it can turn into a terrible bother when cheeky judges declare invalid an Act of Parliament or an appointment of the President, especially when these judgements threaten to destroy the carefully crafted legal mechanisms and structures put in place to protect the political leadership and those who are close enough to the leadership to benefit financially from an emerging kleptocratic state.

It is therefore tempting to dismiss all the talk of a review of the powers of the courts and the expressed yearning for a return to a system of parliamentary sovereignty in which Parliament would be able to make any law – no matter how drastic it infringes on the rights of ordinary voters and no matter how much unbridled power it grants to any of the politicians who “serve” in the Executive – as nothing more than the self-serving attempt at grabbing and consolidating unchecked power.

But this would be wrong. Given South Africa’s apartheid history in which the vast majority of citizens were disenfranchised and given the general distrust in legal processes and in members of the judiciary amongst many voters, arguments about the essential undemocratic nature of judicial review may well have some traction amongst ordinary voters who may not realise that the judiciary – for better or for worse – can (at the moment, at least) probably be trusted far more than can the politicians for whom we vote out of a sense of nostalgia for a better time (that might never have been) and out of a fear of a return to white domination and oppression.

So when the Young Communist League issues a statement demanding that judges become accountable to “the people”, one may take it slightly more seriously than one would normally have done.  The statement makes for fun reading, so I quote a sizable part of it here:

We have recently called for the transformation of the judiciary as part of our National Lekgotla resolutions and have stated strongly that our judges are not perfect and that since they are human; they are bound to err, to be biased and influenced by various social and political ambiances… [W]e have found it to be our revolutionary duty to highlight that the members of the judiciary must in exercising their duty understand and respect the political authority of the legislature and the executive; as the powers vested in them are mandated and legitimised by members of society through a democratic process enshrined in our constitution.

We have called for a judiciary system that is accountable to the people and that we will campaign for amendments in the Constitution for the judiciary to be subjected to popular and democratic elections. If the judiciary, like the other branches of government serves the public, then the public must determine who should serve in such offices at all levels of the judiciary.

There are judgements that necessitate that the judiciary be transformed as they leave much to taste relating to transformation of our state and society; it cannot be normal that the courts serve as stumbling blocks of transformation and hide under the protection of the media. The judiciary is not immune from public scrutiny and its independence should never be elevated above the other branches
of government which are democratically elected by the people and are accountable to the people.

Unfortunately the young comrades did not provide any examples of specific judgments of, say, the Constitutional Court, which might have left “much to taste” and which might have acted as a stumbling block to transformation (however defined). Perhaps it has in mind the Mazibuko judgment (which I had previously criticised) where the Constitutional Court endorsed the “pay-as-you-go” water policies of the City of Johannesburg – despite the fact that section 27(1)(b) of the Constitution guarantees for everyone the right of access to water.

But that policy was implemented, as I said, by the democratically elected City Council of Johannesburg (run by the ANC, who is in alliance with the Communist Party) in line with the water policies of the democratically elected national government (a government in which Communist Party serves and whose perks – including long stays in the Mount Nelson and revolutionary free travel to Cuba – its leader seems to enjoy rather a lot). It is therefore unclear how the election of judges would make such judgments more “transformed”. The case nicely illustrates that the problem is not the judges at all, but rather the neo-liberal policies of the very government in which the Communists continue to serve and continue to benefit from.

The problem is that the voters have actually elected this government who has implemented these anti-transformation policies. One can never trust the bloody voters to do the right thing, ne? What is needed, so it seems, is to take a leaf out of the book of Berthold Brecht, and demand that the electorate be replaced. In his poem, The Solution, Brecht mocked an unnamed Communist regime’s pretensions to being democratic in the following manner: “After the uprising of the 17th June/ The Secretary of the Writers Union/ Had leaflets distributed in the Stalinallee/ Stating that the people/ Had forfeited the confidence of the government/ And could win it back only/ By redoubled efforts./ Would it not be easier/ In that case for the government/ To dissolve the people/ And elect another?”

Perhaps the young comrades also did not realise that in a constitutional state (in which the judiciary is required to interpret and enforce the Constitution and thus to check the power of the other branches of government to ensure that those branches do not abuse their power or infringe on the rights of citizens), elected judges would be superfluous. Why have another elected branch of government if that branch is going to do no more than confirm the policies (like the neo-liberal policies around the pay-as-you-go supply of water) devised by the other elected branches of the state.

But, to be fair, at first glance I did not realise how brilliant this plan might turn out to be. As the young comrades pointed out, the problem with judges is that “they are bound to err, to be biased and influenced by various social and political ambiances”.

Goodness, I for one would not want to have any case about the constitutionality of an act by the President heard by judges influenced by various social and political “ambiances”. That is why the election of judges might turn out to be a brilliant idea. After all, at present the other branches of government are staffed by elected officials and we all know that they never err, that they are never biased and that they would never think of being influenced by social or political “ambiences”. No one who has ever attended a debate in the National Assembly would be able to deny that these elected representatives are always impeccable objective and diligent and that their decisions are always correct and never influenced by the wrong kind of “ambiences”.

Who would not want to take their chances in court with an elected judge – as long as that elected judge demonstrates the high degree of objectivity, and the unfailing ability always to make the correct decision, for which our members of Parliament are so well known (give or take a hundred or so Travelgate crooks).

I only have one question: how are we going to protect these elected judges from exposure to social and political “ambiances”? Oh, of course, we only need to lock them up where they can be kept safe from the corrupting influences of the Sowetan and the Mail & Guardian and ETV News to keep them safe from such dangerous influences. Then we can wheel them out whenever a show trial, I mean a constitutional decision, demands it. That will leave plenty of time for the well-connected to loot the state and to spend their money on worthwhile projects – like champagne drinking appreciation classes, visits to drug mule girlfriends in foreign prisons and attending revolutionary parties organised by Kenny Kunene or the intellectual heirs of Brett Kebble.

PS: Apologies for the frivolous nature of this post. I just could not resist it.

Mixed signals on the review of our courts

The government yesterday sent mixed signals about its previously announced intention to “review” the decisions of the Constitutional Court when it released a “discussion document” which (laudably) affirmed its respect for the independence of the judiciary and the notion of the separation of powers, but (worryingly) seemed to question the wisdom of retaining a distinctly adversarial system of judicial review.

This antagonism towards an adversarial kind of judicial review seems to be focused primarily on cases where the courts were not enforcing social and economic rights and where the judicial review of government action would signal a failure on the part of the judiciary to “co-operate” with the other arms of government in pursuit of (unnamed) constitutional values or goals.

Speaking at a media briefing yesterday, Minister of Justice Jeff Radebe announced the release of a discussion document on the transformation of the judicial system and the role of the judiciary in a developmental state (Pdf document) to frame a “national dialogue” on this programme of “further transformation”. These documents are conceptually incoherent and its authors seem to be confused, as it tries to marry a consensual model of separation of powers with a model that retains (some form of) judicial review for an independent judiciary. One cannot have both a consensual model of separation of powers and an independent judiciary that acts as a true check on the exercise of power by the other branches of government. Suggesting that one can, is at best misinformed and at worst misleading.

This conceptual confusion probably flows from the fact that the government of the day is retreating slightly from its position taken in November last year about the need for a serious review of Constitutional Court decisions. This retreat might have been caused by the public outcry about the perceived intention of the government to interfere with the powers of the courts to review and set aside acts by the other branches of government.

It might also be animated by the sinking realisation that both the proposed review of the Constitutional Court and any possible amendments to its powers will be impossible to implement. After all, who will actually be able to peruse all the documents before the Constitutional Court in every single case ever heard by that court to make a sensible assessment of its performance? And in the absence of such a wide ranging perusal of all relevant documents, any review of the Court will be nonsensical and meaningless as it will not tell us anything about whether the court fulfilled its mandate (or whether it was, for example, hampered in its task by the tardiness of the lawyers who appeared before it or the dismal quality of the papers before it).

The discussion document talks about a need for “further transformation of the judicial system”, but fails to indicate what such further transformation would be aimed at or how it might look. The review clearly does not relate to the current package of constitutional amendments and laws before Parliament aimed at streamlining the courts and enhancing the powers of the Chief Justice. This is because the Minister stated that the current reforms will be finalised before the review is actually concluded. It is therefore unclear what “further transformation” (over and above the current package of amendments and Bills) is envisaged by the government. However, answering questions at the media briefing yesterday Minister Radebe refused to rule out further amendments to the Constitution, suggesting that the government is keeping its options open and that the outcome of this review will depend on which faction in the cabinet gets the upper hand.

In the discussion document and in the speech delivered by the Minister at the media briefing, the government re-affirmed the longstanding commitment of the ANC towards the respect for human rights. The Minister also stated that the envisaged further transformation of the judiciary is underpinned by the separation of powers and an independent judiciary.

Arguing that the values contained in the Constitution – including that of an independent judiciary and the rule of law (but significantly not including the supremacy of the Constitution and judicial review) – are also the values that the ANC has consistently stood and fought for, the Minister stated that the ANC-led government would defend these values at all cost. The Minister recognised that the judiciary had an important role to play in transforming the state and society and in safeguarding and protecting the Constitution and its values through its “constitutionally entrenched judicial authority”.

However, it is not as clear from the Minister’s speech as it should be that the ANC-led government’s continued commitment to the separation of powers and an independent judiciary includes a continued commitment to the principle of the supremacy of the Constitution and the powers of the courts to review and declare invalid not only those provisions of legislation which are in conflict with the Constitution, but also those actions by the executive which infringe on human rights, are not authorised by law or fail to comply with the requirements of rationality and non-arbitrariness which are inherent in a system based on respect for the Rule of Law.

In fact, it is clear that the government is at best uneasy with the notion of an independent Constitutional Court that acts as a vigorous but necessary check on the other branches of government. It would prefer a court that works with government to achieve a common goal – rather than a court that vigorously and in an “activist” manner checks the powers of the other two branches of government and embarrasses the legislature and especially the executive by sometimes declaring some of their actions unconstitutional and invalid.

Judges, suggested Minister Radebe, must exercise their power of judicial review “with great circumspection”. The three branches of the state, claimed Minister Radebe, “are co-equal partners entrusted with distinct constitutional powers in their quest to realise the ideals of a democratic South Africa”. Whether this would mean that one branch – the judiciary – would retain the necessary power to trump the other branches when those branches failed to act in compliance with the Constitution or ordinary law (and hence would retain the power to declare invalid unconstitutional laws and unlawful and unconstitutional acts by the President and other members of the executive), is not as clear from this statement as it should have been.

To be fair, the discussion document affirms that the modern concept of constitutionalism rests on two main pillars:

First, the existence of certain limitations imposed on the state, particularly in its relations with citizens, based on certain clearly defined sets of core values. Secondly, the existence of a clearly defined mechanism for ensuring that limitations on the government are legally enforceable. In this broad sense, constitutionalism has a certain core, irreducible and possible minimum content of values with a well-defined process and procedural mechanisms to hold government accountable.

As the discussion further notes, there are some debate about the degree to which judges should be empowered to “interfere” with the decisions of the other branches of government:

Striking a balance between policy and law becomes necessary in the current times where courts are increasingly placed in a situation where they have to pronounce on matters of public policy. The interface between the courts’ power of judicial review and the policy terrain that is the purview of the Executive and the Legislature becomes even more delicate in the South African situation where the Constitution enshrines a justiciable Bill of Rights. It is in this context, in particular in the interpretation of the socioeconomic rights in the Bill of Rights, that judicial power should, by necessity, be vested in a mechanism independent of the legislative and executive powers of the government, with adequate guarantees to insulate it from political and other influences.

The government seems to have realised that – as a matter of practical politics and constitutional design – it will not be possible at present to address its unhappiness with the courts who strike this balance differently than the government would have wanted them to, as the government will not be able to reduce the powers of the courts to review and set aside unconstitutional or other unlawful acts by the legislature and the executive.

Instead, there are passages in the document which suggest that the government is hoping that it will be able to water down the independence of the judiciary by creating mechanisms that will help to break down the strict separation between the judiciary on the one hand and the other two branches of government on the other. The conceptual incoherence comes to the fore in these passages which, quite frankly, I find rather frightening. This is because the passages suggests a fundamental lack of understanding and/or respect for the separation of powers and the system of checks and balances in a constitutional democracy. The document thus makes the following extraordinary claim:

The importance of the legislative, executive and judicial branches of the state to cooperate and act interdependently in exercising their distinctive constitutional obligations for the common good of the country cannot be over-emphasised. Government must function as an integrated, singular unit in pursuit of the vision set out in the Constitution. Formidable state machinery, acting in unison, is a requisite to overcome the colonial and apartheid legacy of inequality, and the deprivation of the majority of our people. The principle of separation of powers envisages a system of mutual co-existence and interdependence by all three branches of the state.

Of course, if the three branches were to act in complete unison as an integrated singular unit “for the common good” (a common good defined by those politicians who happen to be in power), it would be difficult to see how one branch of that government would consistently declare invalid the acts of the other branches of the government with which it works in unison. At best the branches will debate the constitutional issues at stake beforehand and the two political branches will alter course to ensure compliance with the Constitution. At worst the two political branches will be able to prevail politically on the judiciary to re-interpret the provisions of the Constitution to give the legislature and executive more leeway to do as they please.

This vision of the three branches all working as an integrated whole towards a common goal (defined by the political party in government) therefore seems to be at odds with a modern notion of a separation of powers in a constitutional state in which the courts retain the power vigorously to check the power of the other two branches of government. The document quotes from a chapter in a Canadian Law Commission Report entitled “Interdependence not independence: Institutional and administrative dimensions of judicial independence”, written by Richard Simeon to support its view. Simeon argues for the need for interdependence and the collegiality of effort for the effective coordination and consolidation of programmes of the state towards a common vision. With reference to the American Constitution (but not in line with the South African jurisprudence) Simeon makes the claim that no clear lines can be drawn between the branches of government:

The doctrine of separation of powers is often invoked to justify the institutional independence of the Judiciary. But sometimes forgotten is the other core of the principle of the US Constitution, checks and balances. The American constitutional design does not envision the three branches as existing in splendid isolation from each other. Rather, tyranny is avoided by having each branch check and balance each other – in other words to be interdependent. The relationship among them is indeed ‘indelibly political’. A blend, as a US judge puts it, of ‘separateness, but interdependence, autonomy, but reciprocity’. At any time there is a dialogue, or negotiation with the other branches about… budget, jurisdiction, size, procedures, and administration.

What the document fails to say is that the chapter from which it quotes was written by a political scientists (and not a judge or a lawyer) and that the author introduced his remarks by saying that he was talking as someone concerned with public administration, a person who believed that the constitution was not of much help in any discussion about the relationship between the branches of government. It also does not mention that this view flies in the face of the view taken by the Canadian Supreme Court (which is indeed staffed by real judges, not political scientists) in the Reference re Remuneration of Judges of the Provincial Court (P.E.I.) judgement, a case in which that court made the following statement directly at odds with the views expressed by the discussion document:

under no circumstances is it permissible for the judiciary — not only collectively through representative organizations, but also as individuals — to engage in negotiations over remuneration with the executive or representatives of the legislature. Any such negotiations would be fundamentally at odds with judicial independence. … The prohibition on negotiations therefore does not preclude expressions of concern or representations by chief justices and chief judges, and organizations that represent judges, to governments regarding the adequacy of judicial remuneration….

What is at issue here is the character of the relationships between the legislature and the executive on the one hand, and the judiciary on the other. These relationships should be depoliticized. When I say that those relationships are depoliticized, I do not mean to deny that they are political in the sense that court decisions (both constitutional and non-constitutional) often have political implications, and that the statutes which courts adjudicate upon emerge from the political process. What I mean instead is the legislature and executive cannot, and cannot appear to, exert political pressure on the judiciary, and conversely, that members of the judiciary should exercise reserve in speaking out publicly on issues of general public policy that are or have the potential to come before the courts, that are the subject of political debate, and which do not relate to the proper administration of justice.

In the light of the above the proposal in the document regarding the closer co-operation between branches and the need for the branches to engage with one another in order to co-ordinate its activities so that it can operate as a single unit, is deeply troubling. The following proposal is therefore a non-starter and any judge – including the Chief Justice – who values judicial independence should reject it out of hand. The document namely proposes that one aim of any review would be to facilitate:

the establishment of mechanisms for the three branches of state to engage in regular debates to manage their interface within the context of the separation of powers in pursuit of a common transformative goal that is geared to benefit society at large.

Of course these proposals are not only conceptually incoherent, and in conflict with the understanding given to the separation of powers by judges and lawyers in other modern democracies, they are also doubly problematic in a country like South Africa with a one party dominant democracy in which the legislature and the executive (as well as the institution tasked with appointing judges) are dominated by one political party and where there is little chance that another party will take control of these branches of government or of the JSC in the medium to long term. In a one party dominant democracy, a proposal for the creation of mechanisms to allow for “debates” between the three branches of government, is a proposal to infuse party political concerns into the relationship between the three branches of government.

While the decisions of judges cannot be divorced from politics and while many judicial decisions will have political consequences, the infusion of party politics in the relationship between the legislature and executive on the one hand and the judiciary on the other will render a fatal blow to the principles of respect for the separation of powers and the independence of the judiciary as it will lead to an inevitable exertion of political pressure on the judiciary – as the Canadian Supreme Court warned so clearly.

The question that arises from this discussion document is the following: will the leadership of the judiciary go along with the proposals to infuse party politics into the relationship between the three branches of government or will they resist and fight for their independence and for their constitutionally conferred power to check the other two branches of government?