We’re often lectured, nay patronised, that appointing members of the executive is the sole prerogative of the president. But what is to be done if the president does not exercise his powers in the public interest? If uppermost in everything he does is to serve the selfish interests of his party?
We have right now the unseemly spectacle of a finance minister limping from one crisis to another, who’s turned the budgetary process into a laughing stock. What is a solemn occasion, the central aspect of government, where the public gets to know about the state of the economy and how the government intends to spend their money — which is frankly more important than the vaunted state of the nation address — has become a comedy of errors, a train wreck and a foul-up of monumental proportions.
And yet President Cyril Ramaphosa says finance minister Enoch Godongwana is still the right man to look after the public purse and that he would take yet another stab, a historic third attempt, at presenting the budget on May 21. How many budgets must he mess up before he can qualify to be fired? Ramaphosa and a few of his party diehards are probably the only ones who think Godongwana is doing a decent enough job to retain his confidence. Godongwana is the archetypical dead man walking, and should be put out of his misery. If he has any scrap of integrity in his bone, he should fall on his sword — or be fired.
More than ever before, the country needs stability — at least in the management of its finances
But maybe one can understand Ramaphosa’s reluctance to part with his crown jewel. The ANC is shorn of talent. Ramaphosa heads the least skilled or accomplished top structure since the party came to power, and probably in all of its history. The quality of talent at his disposal compared to the people in Nelson Mandela or Thabo Mbeki’s cabinets are like chalk and cheese.
A party that elects a characterless and charmless empty suit like Paul Mashatile as its deputy leader, and possible president of the country, is really scraping the bottom of the barrel. Which is probably why he’d manufacture an assassination attempt on his life to enhance his nonexistent reputation. And so the cupboard is bare. The struggle unfortunately is about singing and dancing — and demanding. Not about arcane matters such as budgets and finances, or the nitty gritty of governance. People get to be good only at what they regularly do.
But Godongwana, who can hardly be described as the brightest crayon in the box, was never Ramaphosa’s first preference. It was only after the two incumbents he coaxed out of retirement — Nhlanhla Nene and Tito Mboweni — had resigned that he turned to Godongwana. Even then, his appointment was greeted with amazement from certain quarters.
We’re now implored to look kindly at Godongwana’s predicament because, unlike his predecessors, he’s operating in a completely different environment. But who doesn’t know that? If they know the situation has changed, why do they behave as if it hasn’t?
Ramaphosa keeps saying the public should not be alarmed about the shambolic process because such things happen even in mature democracies. Some comfort. But in such countries the parties have set rules of engagement and they stick by them. Here the ANC, despite its electoral setback, wants to continue hogging all the power, to behave as though they’re still lords of all they survey. The budget fiasco is a manifestation of such intransigence. Now they’re roping in the two-cent parties to perpetuate the fantasy.
But in fact Ramaphosa can find the ideal candidate if he were to cast his net wider, to look beyond the confines of his own party. He should follow the example of his hero. Mandela did not only form a coalition government, amid howls of protests from within his party, he also retained Derek Keys, a senior member of the National Party, as finance minister. And after FW de Klerk suddenly led his party out of the GNU in a huff, Mandela didn’t turn to a member of his party, but to Chris Liebenberg, a banker. And the skies didn’t fall. It was a hard-nosed decision by Mandela. He was merely playing the situation, so to speak.
The reality was that the ANC had no experience in government, let alone in running the finances of a first-class economy. And also, international markets and other important players, who had until then regarded the ANC as nothing but a communist-inspired terrorist organisation bent on nationalising everything, were apprehensive, if not alarmed, and would be watching hawk-like every step his government took. It was therefore in Mandela's gift to win the confidence of both friend and foe if the country were to get the support it needed to build a growing economy. It was only after Liebenberg resigned, two years after the ANC came to power, that Mandela anointed Trevor Manuel, another surprise appointment who turned out to be the real deal. The almost seamless transition and stability that the country enjoyed justified Mandela’s decision.
We’re arguably in a similar, if not a more precarious, situation now than in 1994. The economy is in a rut with more people out of work and getting poorer. Ramaphosa’s rickety GNU has become a snake pit with his cabinet constantly engaged in indecorous public squabbling. But more significantly, unlike in 1994 when everybody wanted to see us succeed, the international environment has become decidedly hostile, with our main trading partner seemingly determined to use its overweening power to teach us a lesson. More than ever before, the country needs stability — at least in the management of its finances. Someone with integrity is required at the helm. Godongwana has lost all credibility.
It’s hard to see any competent candidates in the top echelon of the ANC — anybody who at the very least could be an improvement on Godongwana. It may therefore be time for Ramaphosa to look outside his party to replace a finance minister who’s become a burden, if not an embarrassment, to the country. His communist allies will obviously balk at the idea of an outside appointment. But what has the SACP done for the country anyway? It may not be an opposition politician if the fear is that they could use the position to advance their own prospects. Ramaphosa could look outside parliament — to someone in business, the financial services, universities and even civil society. South Africa has some smart people of all colours who can do an excellent job.
Come on, Mr President. Grasp the nettle. Use your famed prerogative.
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