It would seem that at the Codesa negotiations, participants’ main focus was on pursuing their political agendas with little regard for how much these decisions would ultimately cost the country or where the money would come from.
Chapter 9 institutions? Of course, we’ll have that. Increase the number of provinces from four to nine? Yes, that too. Create a constitutional court over the appellate division? Why not? On and on it went. It was like kids in a candy store. Let’s have everything now and we’ll figure out later how to pay for all these goodies. Trouble is, we haven’t.
And so we end up with a plethora of organisations — and laws — that are not only straining South Africa’s resources but the country is crawling with bumptious bureaucrats jealously protecting their own turf or getting in each other’s way. In most cases, they don’t seem too concerned about doing their job; it is the status and the perks that come with it that matter. It also creates unlimited opportunities for “eating”.
As a result, the country is not only over-governed, but mis-governed. Too many cooks are aimlessly spoiling the broth. There seems to have been a realisation lately that South Africa may have created something of a hydra for itself. But tentative attempts to roll back the tide, as it were, have ended in failure. The genie is out of the bottle.
For instance, in September 2006 already, a multiparty ad hoc committee headed by former education minister Kader Asmal was appointed to review the role of both chapter 9 institutions and the Public Service Commission — to assess whether their constitutional and legal mandates are still suitable for the current environment, their consumption of resources could still be justified, the duplication of functions with other organs of state and whether a rationalisation of functions was not desirable.
Asmal delivered his report a year later recommending that an axe be taken to some of these holy cows. It caused a bit of a stir especially among people who suddenly saw themselves in the unemployment queue. It was quietly shelved. In 2017, as if to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the release of the report, parliament appointed another task team to advise the national assembly on the Asmal recommendations. That too seems to have gone the way of the dodo.
These organisations were ostensibly formed to “defend our democracy”. They have, instead, become employment agencies for well-connected cadres. In any case, how can they be expected to oversee the very people who gave them these cushy jobs? And, once ensconced it’s often difficult to get rid of these people should they transgress, as was illustrated by the monumental effort it took to fire disgraced former public protector Busisiwe Mkhwebane. Given appropriate structures, the people can adequately defend their democracy. No need for such costly crutches.
During his second term, president Thabo Mbeki, responding to complaints from the private sector that the country’s labour laws were too restrictive, appointed a team to look into the matter and recommend changes. He had stirred up a hornet’s nest. The unions and their communist friends were incensed — one of the reasons he was bundled out of office.
But one nettle that will have to be grasped at some point is the number of provinces. They’re too costly and largely immaterial. During the negotiations at Codesa, there were essentially two competing schools of thought for the best form of government for the country. The ANC wanted a unitary state, with everything under one umbrella controlled by the central government. The National Party, which had ruled with an iron fist from the centre for half a century, did an about-turn and argued for a federal type of government.
Following in tow were the homeland leaders, notably the IFP’s Mangosuthu Buthelezi who essentially wanted secession for KwaZulu-Natal, if you could get it. The fact is the Nats and their surrogates were wary of the overwhelming support the ANC enjoyed and surmised that a federal system would somewhat constrain its overweening influence. The upshot was the four provinces created after union were increased to nine. That, however, didn’t stop the ANC from winning and controlling the majority of the provinces.
Almost 50 cents of every rand collected by the state in taxes go into maintaining these fat cats and their cumbersome infrastructure
What we now have are nine legislatures, nine premiers each one with his or her own cabinet, their phalanx of bureaucrats and blue lights — everything multiplied by nine. And they don’t come cheap. Almost 50 cents of every rand collected by the state in taxes go into maintaining these fat cats and their cumbersome infrastructure. It means half the country’s resources are spent on these little empires whose utility to the public is negligible. According to the 2024 Budget Review, the government has allocated more than R2.8-trillion or 51.1% — more than half — of all revenue to provinces and the 257 municipalities. Of that money, R2.3-trillion went to the provinces and R531.7bn to local government.
The problem for the provinces is that, unlike municipalities for instance, they have no means of raising their own revenue, except for motor vehicle licence fees which account for a mere 3,4% of their resources. The rest comes from the national government. And it seems the money is not properly spent anyway. The review complains that municipal budgets are under tremendous pressure as a result of inefficient spending. It decries the fact that municipal councils approved salary increases of 5.4% for 2023/24, which requires the diversion of funds from critical services to pay salaries.
It then adds a constant lament: “These above-inflation increases are hard to justify, especially when productivity has been low.”
After 30 years of democracy, it is surely be time to assess the usefulness of the provinces, probably not to scrap them but to look into reducing their number. Northern Cape, for instance, has a population smaller than that of Soweto, let alone the Joburg metro. What purpose does it serve? Why create and maintain such a costly infrastructure for such a tiny population? Gauteng, on the other hand, poses a different set of questions. It is a tiny place with three big metros and the seat of national government within it. Is there any need to impose yet another expensive layer of government on top? Isn’t that overkill? Or as is often the case, we have all these overpaid apparatchiks with little to do but run around creating mischief.
The Northern Cape could ideally either be part of the Western Cape, or be combined with the Free State and North West to form a single province. Limpopo and Mpumalanga could form one province with Gauteng. The country would then end up with five provinces, which would mean less bureaucracy, more manageable — and affordable.
This idea obviously has no hope in hell to fly — no political appetite for it and just too many hands in the cookie jar. But it could be a route to creating a less unwieldy and cleaner government.
