Politicians should be made to use services they inflict on us

For a while, I deemed the idea too draconian, punitive and a potential violation of their freedom of choice. But now, finally, I’m persuaded — those who run the state and make policy on behalf of all of us must be compelled to use public, as opposed to private, facilities. 

I have been mulling over this: if Shonisani Lethole had been a government minister or some other bigwig, would he have received the appalling treatment he got at Tembisa Hospital? Put differently, if the politically powerful and our bureaucrats used hospitals like Tembisa, would the institutions be allowed to fall into decay and provide the inferior service they often do? The service delivery crisis in our public sector is as old as our democracy itself, and it shows every sign of worsening. Look at Esidimeni, the personal protective equipment scandal, and now the Lethole episode.

The dire state of public facilities requires urgent intervention. Few would say the failures in the system are due purely to a lack of financial resources. Rather, the crisis has been precipitated by a lack of vision and an absence of resolute and consistent leadership. I’m convinced that at the heart of the problem is the fact that the decision makers and the implementers have long lost faith in the system they run, and will not themselves touch it with a bargepole.

Their membership of medical schemes that are beyond the reach of the majority of the population has enabled them to flee the moribund public health sector for the comparatively more efficient, humane, if expensive, private health dispensation. Same applies in the public education system, from which well-heeled staff and politicians have withdrawn their offspring, choosing to send them to private schools or the better-run fee-paying public schools. Again, both of which are unaffordable to most South Africans.

If the politically powerful  used hospitals like Tembisa , would the institutions be allowed to fall into decay?

And so, with an escape route, this post-1994 elite lacks the incentive or vested interest to find the urgent solutions required to improve the public services. Really a classic case of the chef never eating in their own restaurant because they don’t trust the food — yet expecting others to put their faith in the enterprise. So, who should be encouraged to use public facilities? Front of queue would be the leaders of government, from the president to the premiers and mayors. This would set an example for all public servants.

Then political party leaders and public representatives at all levels — all those who claim to represent the public. Also, party top honchos, such as those who sit on the ANC’s national executive committee, the EFF’s central command and the DA’s federal council. Not forgetting union chiefs. None should have a problem with such a convention as it would bring them closer to the people they purport to represent. Since 1994, these elites have mimicked the habits of their counterparts elsewhere in Africa, where political freedom came earlier. There, the political and economic upper crust, who apparently know better, get their medical care abroad, while ordinary citizens are left at the mercy of barely functioning health-care systems.

Thus, when Nigeria’s President Muhammadu Buhari needs health care, he entrusts his life to one of London’s top hospitals. Zimbabwe’s Robert Mugabe, when he needed treatment, checked himself into a Singapore hospital, where he died, leaving his people to contend with the vagaries of his rickety health system back home. For a better education than they provide for their own people, they send their offspring to universities in the US, Europe or SA. Echoes of Animal Farm everywhere.

Perhaps one day soon, our elected leaders, and others employed by the public, will tell us why they should enjoy privileges that ordinary citizens don’t — when it is they who should be at the service of the people. Now on to a different matter. We’ve been through much trauma and worry of late, what with the unheard-of devastation of Covid-19, its attendant corruption scandals, and a perilous fiscal position. We can do with a bit of good news. Last week it came in the form of the announcement that US motor giant Ford will make a multibillion-rand investment in its local operation, with a projected spinoff of thousands of jobs.

Of course, job creation is one of President Cyril Ramaphosa’s strategic objectives. In his state of the nation address two years ago, Ramaphosa talked up the need for us to support local manufacturing by buying SA-made goods. Showing off his brand-new suit made by clothing workers in Cape Town, he gushed before television cameras: “We will stimulate local demand and grow South African manufacturing by making sure the ‘Buy Local’ campaign is everywhere and ever-present.”

Since then, the campaign has been anything but “everywhere and ever-present”. When he returns for another Sona instalment this week, the president will hopefully give a report-back on a drive he touted so strongly. Let’s hear from the first citizen how many more made-in-SA suits he has bought. Not leaving out his cabinet ministers and others in his extended leadership team of premiers, mayors and so on. And while he is about it, the president may as well reveal when he will issue a directive that all state-procured cars should be SA-made.

Will we see the back of the imposing SUVs and stately saloons, foreign-made and so beloved by an officialdom that claims to support South African job creation? The government’s job-creation story must start with demonstrable confidence in locally made products, including state-owned and -subsidised vehicles, such as those made by Ford and others. If it’s about the much-loved blue lights, it surely will be a cinch to transfer those to cars made here.

Shunning local products in favour of foreign competition goes against the stated quest to tame SA’s dangerously high unemployment, exporting as it does jobs to other countries. We’ll be all ears come Thursday.