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03 July 2020 | Story Prof Francis Petersen and Motsaathebe Serekoane
Motsaathebe Serekoane,left, and Prof Francis Petersen.

The South African statue debate is back in the spotlight again, as statues deemed controversial or offensive are coming down in America and Europe during demonstrations against racism and police violence that have renewed attention on the legacy of injustices. This follows the death of George Floyd, an unarmed black man who died after a Minneapolis police officer kneeled on his neck for more than eight minutes. 

The world has witnessed the toppling of Confederate statues in San Francisco, Washington, DC, and Raleigh, North Carolina in the US, as well as a statue of slave trader Edward Colston in Bristol and the statue of slave holder Robert Milligan, which was removed from outside the Museum of London Docklands in the UK.  The statue of Paul Kruger on Church Square in Pretoria was again vandalised with red paint during a #BlackLivesMatter protest, as was the statues of Voltaire, a leading thinker and writer in France, and Hubert Lyautey, a French general and colonial administrator.

The attacks/hostilities against statues started in 2015 when the statue of Cecil John Rhodes at the University of Cape Town was torn down by students during the height of the #RhodesMustFall protest, which subsequently led to the #FeesMustFall protest that saw the statue of CR Swart at the University of the Free State being toppled a year later. 

The challenge in the South African context
The traditional definition and meaning of spaces inhabited by people (including temporarily) still renders some of the public spaces unwelcoming and excluding by virtue of their names, presence of symbols, and inscriptions. These spatial markers have a historical significance link with certain social identities or representation, and there is an increasing call for the reconfiguration of public spaces. It is argued that the symbolic landscape also requires change if a city/metro is to incorporate all its citizens and their histories into the fabric of an ‘imagined’ inclusive and just city.

The politics of symbolic representation has been at the heart of decolonisation and post-apartheid transformation. At stake in South Africa – with the historical legacy of segregation policies – is the competing and often conflicting notion of space, and the ideological notion of commemoration or memorialisation, coupled with the lack of shared collective memory and meaning of public representation. 

This calls for a pro-active approach towards the preservation and conservation of heritage resources material. In line with the National Developmental Plan 2030 (NDP 2030) – as a transforming country (with the baggage of both colonial and apartheid legacies) – the state is striving to cultivate an environment that is inclusive and socially just. The transformation of spatial milieu presupposes collective ownership and management of space, founded on the permanent and temporary participation of the 'interested and affected parties' with their multiple, varied, and even contradictory political interests. In the review of the current symbolic landscape for inclusion, it is suggested that spatial identity transformation be negotiated; the process must develop from a nexus that understands the interrelationship between space and spatial inscription through the form of street names, symbols, public art, and other forms of spatial markers.

Important to note is that symbolic power is inherent in these processes of change and includes, among other things, erasure and recognition and competing notions of spatial inscription or re-inscription. Notwithstanding the progress made to date, the following remains a challenge: reflecting on the definition and meaning of spaces that have become public; critical reflection on the role of memorabilia in the post-embedded-conflict society; the notion of preservation and conservation in the post-embedded-conflict society; reflecting on the role of memorabilia for documentation and educational ends; and finally, broadening the heritage landscape.

The politics of recognition
Five years since the #RhodesMustFall and #FeesMustFall movements, different forms of memorabilia still remain at the centre of discontent. The observation is that contemplative conversations on these diverse commemorative markers, sites, and symbols established during the colonial, apartheid, and democracy eras are becoming a threat to the country’s NDP 2030, and in particular the social cohesion project. South Africa and the rest of the world continue to struggle to situate/re-appropriate historical text in the contemporary politics of recognition. The demand for recognition in the post-conflict society is given urgency/traction by the hypothetical links between recognition, identity, and public representation. Recent literature postulates that non-recognition or misrecognition in the metros or city spatial landscape can inflict harm, be a form of oppression, or imprison someone in a false, distorted, and reduced mode of being and belonging. Despite the Ministry of Arts and Culture’s investment in transforming the heritage landscape across South Africa – from the level of policy and legislation, the establishment of new commemorative markers, and heritage institutions – the question on what to do with symbols of South African histories and how to deal with them against the backdrop of preservation and conservation in the post-embedded conflict society, remains unclear.

Legislative framework
Whereas the NDP 2030 is advancing a social cohesion vision, section 37 of the South African Heritage Act, No 25 of 1999, protects public monuments and memorials from any form of altering, damaging, or relocation and prescribes a minimum requirement before any form of action is taken. Although the Act is advancing the protection of heritage resources, an interpretation of the Act is that it makes provision for the re-imagination, creative, and responsible review of heritage in a post-embedded conflict society, thus broadening the heritage landscape through reconfiguration discourse of re-interpretation, re-appropriation, relocation, and removal. It is a balancing act with embedded and enmeshed complexities. 

Emancipatory claim-making in the quest for spatial parity
The statue debates continue to be characterised by a polarised disposition. At the one end of the continuum are individuals who hold a strong view and advocate for the ‘cleaning’ of what is deemed painful reminders of past atrocities in the public, which is now accessible to all. On the other end of the continuum are individuals arguing for the juxtaposition model. The process of striving towards a space for equity (cf. socio-spatial justice) and inclusion – needless to say – requires the asking of some difficult questions. 

Towards the inclusion end, the argument is for spatial re-imagination that will have the courage to disrupt homogeneity and advance heterogeneity in pursuit of a spatial landscape where differences intersect, influence each other, and hybridise in pursuit of dialogic engagements and transformative output. 

The UFS and the MT Steyn statue – a transparent and consultative approach
True to the ideals of a contemporary university, which is an intellectual space that encourages new ideas, controversy, inquiry, and argument, and which challenges orthodox views, the UFS has approached the call to remove the MT Steyn statue from the Bloemfontein Campus of the university in a transparent and consultative manner, respecting the different views and perspectives. In fact, the UFS adopted an Integrated Transformation Plan (ITP) in late 2017, aiming at an institution ‘where its diverse people feel a sense of common purpose and where symbols and spaces, systems and daily practices all reflect commitment to inclusivity, openness and engagement’ – the ITP, which embodies social justice, was used as the framework for engagement on the MT Steyn statue.

The South African Constitution, which celebrates the diversity of our nation, upholds the rights of all people to freedom of speech, and specifically protects academic freedom. To shut down the right to speak or ask questions in the context of a public debate is unacceptable in a democratic society. Rude or violent behaviour rarely serves to change how people think about any particular issue – on the contrary, it polarises views and makes it harder to listen to one another. 
In this engagement process on the statue, it was important for members of the UFS community to exercise tolerance to listen, to engage with strongly divergent views, and to do so in a manner that is respectful, so that it expands the space for debate. This indeed happened through seminars, public lectures, panel discussions, radio and television interviews, and public opinion pieces. Through these engagements, four options were put forward in relation to the MT Steyn
statue:
• The statue remains as it is,
• The statue remains as it is, and the space around the statue is reconceptualised,
• The statue is relocated to another position on campus, and
• The statue is relocated off campus

Part of the engagement was a heritage impact assessment (HIA) with a public participation process. The public participation process (60 days) included the exhibition of a reflective triangular column erected in front of the statue, primarily to keep the statue topical, but it also edited the statue out of its power position if viewed from the east along the main axis from the city of Bloemfontein. Public notices and advertisements were placed in both local and national newspapers, while the family of President Steyn was kept informed of developments.

Although the call to remove the statue has challenged and re-energised a critical engagement around the purpose of a university in an unequal society – both as a site of complicity and as a potential agent for social change – the call should never be interpreted as an attack on President Steyn (the person), but rather what a 2 m tall statue represents for a changing student and staff demographic on the UFS campuses.

Honouring the legislative processes through the Free State Provincial Heritage Resources Authority, the UFS Council approved the relocation of the MT Steyn statue from the university campus to the War Museum in Bloemfontein – the ‘dignified’ dismantling of the MT Steyn statue took place on 27 June 2020. With the statue at the War Museum, Steyn’s contribution as an anti-colonialist and anti-imperialist will be fully understood by all South Africans in the context of the South African War, as portrayed by the museum.

Reimaging an inclusive public space faces many obstacles and challenges in engaging with existing spatial markers, differences, diversity, and cultural heterogeneity in creative and productive ways.  However, the path followed by the UFS to relocate the MT Steyn statue creates a unique opportunity for a discussion on how spatial re-interpretation can promote inclusivity and meaning of space in a sustainable manner that balances the intricacies of the past, the present, and the future. All considered, it is a difficult process; but change cannot just be for the sake of change, there should be an emancipatory claim in the quest for a just society, advancing reasoning over rage.

Opinion article by Motsaathebe Serekoane, Lecturer: Anthropology, and Prof Francis Petersen: Rector and Vice-Chancellor, University of the Free State
 

News Archive

Helen Zille delivers memorial lecture
2008-09-04

 

The annual CR Swart Memorial Lecture was recently delivered by Ms Helen Zille, leader of the Democratic Alliance (DA), on the Main Campus of the University of the Free State (UFS) in Bloemfontein. The topic was: "Opposition politics in South Africa: Past, present and future". At the lecture were, from the left: Prof. Gerhardt de Klerk, Dean: Faculty of the Humanities, Prof. Teuns Verschoor, Acting Rector of the UFS, and Ms Zille.
Photo: Stephen Collet

ADDRESS BY HELEN ZILLE
LEADER OF THE DEMOCRATIC ALLIANCE
C.R. SWART COMMEMORATIVE LECTURE
UNIVERSITY OF THE FREE STATE
BLOEMFONTEIN
THURSDAY AUGUST 28, 2008
 
Opposition politics: past, present and future
 
Introduction
 
I am honoured to be delivering the C.R. Swart Commemorative Lecture tonight, named after the University’s first Chancellor and a former State President. This lecture series started in 1968, my matric year, and 40 years on it is a great privilege for me to join a long list of distinguished speakers in addressing this forum. I am here in my capacity as the leader of the largest opposition party to speak in a lecture inaugurated to mark the establishment of a chair in political science at this university, so I presume that no disclaimers are needed when I say I will be discussing politics. In fact, the theme of my address is: “Opposition politics: past, present and future”.
 
Fourteen years after our first democratic election, we stand at a crossroads in South Africa. Many people are deeply concerned and with good reason.
 
But, despite many disturbing developments in recent months, we can still choose to take the high road to an open, opportunity society, in which we realise our rights and fulfil our obligations under the supreme law of the land: the Constitution. Alternatively, if we fail in this quest, we will take the low road to a closed, patronage-driven society.  
 
In closed societies, the rule of law and the sovereignty of the Constitution cease to count for anything. Instead, they are replaced by the rule of a cabal. What do I mean by “cabal”? It is a small, closed circle whose members aim to entrench their power and enrich themselves; an elitist faction accountable to no-one, and no law, but itself. A cabal typically justifies its self-serving actions and decisions in the name of the greater good, of which they are, of course, the sole arbiters and interpreters.
 
In closed societies, controlled by cabals, democratic rights and freedoms are systematically eroded; the space for debate and contestation is closed down, and opportunities are horded and exploited by the ruling elite to further its own interests.
 
In South Africa today we face a critical choice. It is a choice between a society in which the government sees it as its duty to protect everyone’s rights, or a government that sees its role as the selective dispenser of rights, usually on the basis of various arbitrary criteria, particularly political connections.
 
Along the high road, the law of the Constitution prevails; along the low road, the law of the jungle reigns, and might is right. Along the low road, one’s position in society is determined by one’s subordinate status to a leader or a leadership clique. Along the high road, it is protected in terms of a constitutional contract.
 
That is what the British jurist Sir Henry Maine meant when he wrote about the progression in modern civilisation, “from status to contract”. In the ancient world individuals were generally trapped in an immutable power hierarchy, bound by birth and tradition to groups that determined their social status and limited their choices and actions. In the modern one, individuals become autonomous beings free to make contracts and associations with whomever they please. A key role of governments in such societies is to extend opportunities so that more and more people can use their freedom, to improve their lives and achieve any position on the basis of hard work and ability, not the circumstances of their birth.
 
In my view, the single most important task of opposition parties going into the future is to ensure that we progress from status to contract; that we follow the high road to a constitutional society in which we all protect and promote each other’s rights to be the best we can be, individually and collectively.
 
Opposition in the past: keeping minorities involved in politics
 
Ten years ago, my predecessor as Leader of the Democratic Alliance, Tony Leon, addressed this forum on the subject of “The place and role of opposition politics and parties in South Africa”.
 
In fact, when he gave this lecture in 1998, the Democratic Alliance did not exist. The Democratic Party (DP), which he then led, was small. In the first democratic election of 1994, it won just 1.7% of the vote, and managed to gain only seven seats in the 400-seat National Assembly.
 
The DP attracted much less support than the other opposition parties. In that election, the National Party (NP) obtained 20.5% of the vote, and the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) took nearly 11%.
 
When Tony Leon spoke here in 1998, he said: “…I have set the interim goal for my party to become the second party of South Africa’s political realm. Not that we will forever be satisfied with the position. But one step at a time”.
 
It is notoriously difficult for opposition parties to make progress in countries that emerge from liberation struggles; the party of liberation symbolises the hopes and aspirations -- the very identity -- of oppressed people. In this context, opposition parties struggle to establish their legitimacy and right to exist. Where opposition does survive, it is often on the basis of competing group-based nationalisms, rather than on alternative visions and policies for the future of that society. It is no wonder that opposition in emerging democracies so often withers and dies. Trapped in minority group politics, associated with an old order, robbed of legitimacy, its supporters retreat and either seek association with the new patronage-based system or simply withdraw from the process altogether, thereby entrenching single party dominance controlled by the ruling elite of the majority group.
 
This could so easily have been South Africa’s fate: a governing party espousing one brand of racial nationalism versus an opposition espousing another brand of racial nationalism, permanently trapped in a dwindling opposition role because of demographics. A situation where the majority cabal was immune from the Constitution’s checks and balances to prevent power abuse, simply relying on racial mobilisation and solidarity to entrench their power, irrespective of performance. In fact, this still remains a risk to South Africa’s future unless we can win support for an alternative vision.
 
The dead-end of contesting racial nationalisms was the fate South Africa had to avoid if our Constitution was to mean anything. That is why it was critical for our predecessor party to attain the provisional but crucial goal of becoming the major alternative to the ANC. We did so in 1999 on a very modest component of the vote -- just 9.5% -- but a five fold increase over the election five years earlier. In 2004, the Democratic Alliance (DA), the party born from the merger of the New National Party (NNP) and the DP, added to these gains, securing 12.5% of all votes cast.
 
In large part, this growth was achieved by marshalling and consolidating the support of minority voters. Realistically, given South Africa’s history, and a liberation struggle lasting many decades, it was not feasible for an opposition movement to attract significant numbers of majority voters so early in our democracy. We had to face that reality. As Tony Leon remarked in his C.R. Swart lecture, “to remain effective, opposition parties need to consolidate support among their key constituencies, albeit minority ones -- for the time being”. This was necessary to ensure that minority constituencies did not withdraw from politics or public participation, as they have done in all failed democracies.
 
In societies that have undergone a transition from minority rule, and where there is a great diversity of races, classes, and ethnicities, one of the first symptoms of democratic failure is when minorities pull out of public life. The big shift that must occur if complex plural societies are to become constitutional democracies, is that all citizens, whether they associate themselves with minorities or majorities, must understand and claim their rights, and in particular, must respect and defend each others’ rights. 
 
Majority groups, who can dominate political systems by their weight of numbers, understandably take longer to embrace constitutionalism than minorities, who often know instinctively that the Constitution and the rule of law are their only armour against power abuse and arbitrary action by representatives of majority groups.
 
Unless a government understands that its role is to protect rights, not dispense rights, and unless a government understands that the institutions of state must remain independent of the ruling party, (and indeed limit the power of the ruling party), power abuse becomes inevitable. Power abuse, once it starts also increases exponentially. Being a member of a demographic majority offers no protection against power abuse by a small leadership cabal. Once power abuse has begun, it quickly becomes irreversible. Ask the majority of Shona-speaking people in Zimbabwe. They may have turned a blind eye to the massacre of the Ndebele in the 1980s because they assumed that the government would never turn on them. They were wrong.
 
The point about the indivisibility of rights and the irreversibility of power abuse was most famously made by the Lutheran Pastor, Martin Niemöller, who was imprisoned and narrowly escaped execution by the Nazis. He is most famous for his statement on the indivisibility of rights. He wrote:
 
First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and by then there was no-one left to speak.
 
It is still difficult for many South Africans to envisage a South Africa where we speak up for each others’ rights. It is still usually accepted, for example, that Afrikaners have a duty, alone, to promote and protect their language and culture. This is a fundamental fallacy. Everyone must protect each others’ language and cultural rights (among all other rights) because these are constitutional rights, and constitutional rights are indivisible. 
 
Indeed, the most crucial role for the opposition in South Africa is to become the party for all the people who wish to claim their own rights, and protect the rights of others. This seems like such an obvious point but it is generally misunderstood. I was speaking about our vision to a film-producer the other day, who happens to be black, and he said to me: “Helen, I wish you would say these things for my people”. I said: “I say these things for everyone. The Constitution is there for everyone. When I speak about defending and claiming rights and preventing power abuse, I do not only speak for people who look like me”. It is at times like this that I realise what a long road we must still travel before the assumptions of constitutionalism become internalised in our society. And the role of the opposition is to lead that long march.
 
Opposition in the present: creating a party for all the people
 
How best do we do this? There is only one way in politics and that is to mobilise support, to build a party that is seen as a viable and credible alternative for all South Africans; a party that can win elections and demonstrate open, accountable government in practice, and implement policy solutions that yield better results in improving the lives of all South Africans. That is what we have been trying to achieve in Cape Town and the other local authorities that we govern, and I know the results are starting to show.
 
Holding regular elections does not automatically mean a country can call itself a democracy. The true test of a democracy is whether power can change hands peacefully through the ballot box. If voters return the same party to power every election, irrespective of its performance, or if a dominant party refuses to accept defeat in an election, believing it has a divine right to rule, then checks and balances on power abuse become meaningless. Indeed power abuse becomes inevitable.
 
To prevent this, the DA must be able to challenge the ANC for power.  Defeating the ANC for its own sake is not the issue.   The point is to take South Africa out of the dead end of race mobilisation and contestation, to a real choice between alternative policies to create a better life for all.
 
This sounds obvious, but it is a monumental challenge.
 
It is far easier to demonstrate this in practice where we can win elections. But for the most part we have to build our base by doing an excellent job in our role as official opposition.
 
Far too many South Africans are still embarrassed by the concept and practice of a tough, muscular opposition. They believe in the politics of ingratiation -- as if this will achieve better results. It may make you popular with those in power, but it rarely changes anything. It is, as someone once said, like feeding steaks to a crocodile in the hope that it will become a vegetarian.
 
The role of the parliamentary opposition is to ask the difficult questions; to expose corruption and mismanagement; to hold government to account; to think ahead and to present alternatives on all policy issues.
 
Opposition in the future: defending the Constitution
 
However, the most important task of the opposition in South Africa today is to provide a rallying point for all those who understand that defending the Constitution is the greatest political imperative our country faces.
 
In the early- to mid-1990s, South Africa’s major challenge was to bring together political rivals, after decades of conflict, to negotiate a way in which a complex, plural society could live together in peace, without group domination and power abuse. Getting historical adversaries around a table, exchanging words and ideas rather than gunfire, was a remarkable achievement.
 
Even more remarkable though was the end result. We reached a consensus settlement, forged rather than forced, that did away with the sovereignty of Parliament, so open to abuse by a parliamentary majority able to pass any law it likes irrespective of its effects on others. We understood that being in a majority does not necessarily mean being right or being just; that power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. So we replaced the sovereignty of Parliament with the sovereignty of the Constitution, requiring that a majority party’s decisions be tested against a Bill of Rights, with a Constitutional Court and a range of other mechanisms to prevent the abuse of power by a ruling majority. This was the essence of the revolutionary change that came to South Africa in the mid-1990s. It often seems as though the new ruling majority has not internalised the significance of this shift.
 
Of course, the Constitution, although it is internationally admired, was the product of compromise. As such, it is neither perfect nor pristine. But it is a good deal better than it might have been; and, again this attests to the crucial role of opposition in providing alternatives with sufficient muscle to force compromise.
 
One of the crucial moments in our constitutional negotiations came when both the National Party and the ANC proposed that the ten constitutional court judges should be appointed by the President and his cabinet. The Chief Justice, too, would be appointed directly by the President. If this had happened, it would have meant the ruling party effectively handpicking its own judges, rendering the most important safeguard of our rights subject to political manipulation by the ruling party.  
 
It was sustained opposition by a few negotiators, led by Tony Leon that saw this proposal jettisoned. The Democratic Party tabled a series of amendments – the effect of which was to create a Judicial Service Commission (JSC), whose members, comprising representatives from government, parliament, the judiciary, the legal profession and academia, would recommend judges for appointment by the President. The Judicial Service Commission was established in terms of Section 178 of the Constitution.
 
The creation of a Judicial Service Commission was by no means an ideal solution, but as a mechanism for judicial appointments, it is infinitely preferable to the model of direct political appointments so favoured by majority parties.
 
From the moment the Constitution was adopted, it became the opposition’s duty to defend it.  
 
When I spoke on a related theme at the University of the Witwatersrand, a student raised the following point:
 
“When people are living in poverty, they aren’t interested in constitutions.  They are interested in houses and jobs and services.  Constitutions and laws have no significance for them”.
 
This is a profound question, and my answer is this.  You cannot eat the law but you cannot have enough food for everybody unless there is law.  You cannot live in the Constitution but you will never have good housing for all unless there is a good Constitution.  Jobs and services for the poor will never come unless there is the rule of the law.
 
The rule of the law protects everyone but especially the poor and the weak.  In the jungle, the weak must always submit to the strong.  The dominant lion walks wherever he wants and everyone else must get out of his way.  That is the law of the jungle.  In constitutional human society, the weak have the same rights as the strong.  When the traffic light is red, the billionaire in his BMW must stop; when the light is green, the beggar on his bicycle may pass through.  That is the rule of the law. It has implications for every transaction in society.
 
The Constitution protects all of our liberties and guarantees equal rights for all, weak and strong, rich and poor.  The rule of just law is not some sort of ornament, not an embellishment on our civilisation:  it is the bedrock of our civilization.  Without the rule of law, we could never have developed our commerce, science, technology and art.  Without it, we would not have brick houses or clean running water in our homes or sewage works or electricity or flour mills and bakeries.
 
That is why it is so important to defend the Constitution.
 
To be sure, there are aspects of the Constitution we would like to change, but constitutional change should never be entered into lightly because of the importance of constitutionalism.
 
There is another reason why we should tread carefully, and that is because the ascendant faction in the ANC, grouped around the party president, Jacob Zuma, understands that it is the Constitution that stands in the way of absolute power. It is the Constitution that makes everyone equal before the law and limits power abuse. And there are increasing signs that Zuma’s faction does not like these limitations. There are very disturbing indications that he and his supporters increasingly regard the Constitution as a nuisance to be swatted away like an irritating fly.
 
In December 2006 Zuma said: “The ANC is more important than even the Constitution of the country”. That same month he pronounced: “Once you begin to feel you are above the ANC, you are in trouble”. Disturbingly, these remarks suggest an allegiance to “the higher law of the party”. In other words, what the party decides is superior to the rule of law. This usually refers to the will of the small cabal that controls the party which believes it has a monopoly on truth, insight and morality. Despite the disastrous legacy of this doctrine across the world, it has captured the fevered imagination of many; hence, Zuma’s fanciful claim that that “the ANC will rule South Africa until Jesus comes again”.
 
The higher law of the party is what a privileged group of individuals invoke when their narrow interests come into conflict with the Constitution. The higher law of the party leaves little room for opposition, both from within the ruling party or from opposition parties.
 
Speaking in Umtata last year, Zuma argued the country shouldn’t have opposition parties simply because there have to be opposition parties. This statement goes against one of the founding provisons of the Constitution, which notes that the Republic of South Africa is a “soveriegn, democratic state, founded on...a multiparty system of democratic government, to ensure accountability, responsiveness and openess”.
 
In fact, Zuma went further and said that opposition parties had no right to exist if they could not formulate better policies than the ruling party. Needless to say, according to Mr Zuma, the ANC has the right to decide whose policies are better. “If the ANC has the best policies”, he asked, “what is the problem?” “If everyone supports the ANC, then there is no problem. That is except if you want a debate at a university’s debating society, because no one has proposed better policies than us.”  
 
Of course, Zuma’s disregard for the Constitution is also motivated by personal factors. He faces a corruption trial and if he is found guilty and given a sentence of more than 12 months it will prevent his becoming the next President. His supporters are determined to make sure that does not happen, and they too have been making ominous sounds, profoundly at odds with our constitutional order.
 
On 16 June, the President of the ANC Youth League, Julius Malema said, “We are prepared to take up arms and kill for Zuma”.  On 21 June, Young Communist League national secretary, Buti Manamela promised that if Zuma did not become President, “there will be hell to pay”. 
 
Meanwhile, the ANC Secretary-General, Gwede Mantashe, told an ANC Youth League conference earlier this year that investigations against the Judge-President of the Cape High Court, John Hlophe, were “psychological preparation of society so that when the Constitutional Court judges pounce on our president we should be ready at that point in time”. He also said, “Our revolution is in danger; we must declare to defend it to the end.” Later he confirmed he was concerned about “counter-revolutionary forces”, including, in his view, the Constitutional Court, the United Democratic Movement, the IFP and the DA.
 
Taken together, these statements appear to form part of a strategy to smear and diminish the Constitutional Court because it threatens to uphold the rule of the law in the Zuma trial and so block his ascent to the state presidency.
 
Zuma’s backers are willing to subvert the institutions of the Constitution for the benefit of the ruling party. There is nothing unique about this. Almost every liberation movement has done the same thing after attaining power. Liberation movements make very bad democratic governments for one key reason: liberation struggles are about attaining power. Constitutional democracy is about limiting power. And no liberation movement seems willing to accept that.
 
 
The ANC like so many other liberation movements that try to become political parties, believes it has the monopoly on morality and a divine right to rule.  The quest for absolute power makes internal conflict for positions of power inevitable and vicious, and the ruling cabal then seeks to eliminate challenges to its control from within and without. It begins to use the instruments of the Constitution, not only against the opposition, but against challengers it faces inside its own party.
 
That is what we are seeing now: power-hungry individuals pretending they exemplify the liberation struggle, and invoking it to justify the seizure of constitutional instruments that are actually supposed to limit their power.
 
What is the role of the opposition in this case?  To summarise: our role is deceptively simple to describe but exceptionally difficult to fulfil. We must convince more and more South Africans that it is in their interests to protect the Constitution from the ruling party’s abuse of power. It is to persuade people that being in a demographic majority will not protect them from the consequences of power abuse by an increasingly small cabal that seeks to project its interests as the interests of a majority, and uses race mobilisation to disguise its real intentions. Our role is to offer real policy alternatives that provide real opportunities for all who are prepared to use them to improve their lives, in a society where there is a link between effort and reward. It is to win elections where we can, and to demonstrate our policies in action. We must be a catalyst that brings together all those who understand that limits on power are essential for the welfare of the people, so that South Africa can become a sustainable democracy with a growing economy.
 
In the medium term, as the consequences of the ANC’s assault on the Constitution are felt more widely, the remarks I am making tonight will seem obvious. But unless we hear them and act on them now, it could be too late. This is why the DA’s goal is to realign politics and re-shape the configuration of political parties, drawing a clear line between those who believe in constitutionalism and those who do not.
 
This realignment will not hinge on opposition parties alone, since it is not just opposition parties that care about the Constitution. There are many in the ANC who want to defend the Constitution and who are appalled by the growing trend of anti-constitutionalism in their own party. But it will take them a long time to make the essential break because allegiance to a liberation movement becomes part of one’s identity and the bonds are strong.
 
It is therefore vital to form a coalition of opposition parties which understands our joint responsibility to defend the Constitution, to offer hope to voters and bring them out in large numbers in next year’s election. I and my party have been working hard behind the scenes to secure this outcome.
 
In truth, the response to this call has been limited. One opposition leader remarked that such a coalition is a bad idea because we shouldn’t gang up on the ANC. I was muted in my response to this statement because it is not appropriate for opposition parties, at this crucial juncture, to waste time and resources fighting each other. But I thought, at minimum, I had to point out how truly ludicrous it is to suggest that an attempt to curb the power of a party that already has a 74% majority in Parliament amounts to “ganging up”. This kind of response demonstrates to me that, despite all that has happened, some parties still have not fathomed what the role of opposition is in South Africa today.
 
I suspect that the real reason for this lukewarm response is that the leaders of individual parties do not wish to abdicate their own fiefdoms. After all, it is easier – and far less risky – to defend a dunghill than it is to move a mountain.
 
Whatever happens at the 2009 election, we must strive to prevent the ANC from attaining a two-thirds majority because this is the essential minimum required to protect the Constitution, and prevent a shrinking cabal entrenching itself in power.  If we can do this, we will prevent South Africa from going down the well-trodden path of centralisation, cronyism, corruption and criminalisation that has been the lot of many failed states on our continent that could not make the transition from a liberation struggle to a stable constitutional democracy.  
 
Apart from our role as opposition, we must build on our record in government. We started this process by winning power in Cape Town in 2006 and in other local authorities, primarily in the Western Cape. We need to build on this base in 2009, by winning the Western Cape and showing what aligned co-operative governance can achieve between a provincial administration and local authorities. We are determined that people should experience what difference open, opportunity-driven governance makes in their lives. An opposition victory in at least one province will also help the ANC to get used to losing elections, so that we do not face the spectre of a Kenya or a Zimbabwe, where the so-called liberation parties refused to accept defeat at the polls, and used political blackmail and threats of violence to stay in power.   When that happens, it is clear that constitutional democracy has failed.
 
As Tony Leon put it in 1998, it is one step at a time. If we achieve our goals in 2009, the next target is the local elections of 2011, when we must aim to win power, alone or in coalitions, in major metropolitan areas throughout South Africa. If we succeed in doing this, and with the chaos in the ANC predictably continuing as the power-mongers continue their internal struggle with the constitutionalists, the stage will be set for a fundamental realignment of politics to bring together all those who understand that respect for the rule of law and the Constitution, is the only thing that will prevent the implosion occurring in Zimbabwe today.
 
I have no doubt that by that time, the disastrous consequences of Zuma’s doctrine of the “higher law of the party” will be far more obvious to many more people and an ANC loss at the polls will be a realistic prospect by 2014.
 
The ANC can be dislodged from power. The Constitution can prevail. It depends on us. We can learn through our own bitter experience, or we can use the opportunity of learning from the experience of others, and apply the relevant lessons to our own situation. It is my role, and the role of my party, to ensure that there is no South African who can one day say: “I did not know. Why didn’t anyone warn us?” We have to make the choices crystal clear. We are and we will keep on doing so. But then it is over to every citizen, to register as a voter, to go out on election day, and to make that crucial choice. After all, in a democracy, people get the government they deserve.
 

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