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21 July 2021 | Story Prof Philippe Burger | Photo Sonia Small (Kaleidoscope Studios)
Prof Philippe Burger is Pro-Vice-Chancellor (Pro-VC): Poverty, Inequality and Economic Development at the University of the Free State.

Government needs to see the private sector as a true partner, whose expertise and capital can leverage its plans

Opinion article by Prof Philippe Burger, Pro-Vice-Chancellor (Pro-VC): Poverty, Inequality and Economic Development, University of the Free State

Many South Africans watched in disbelief last week as KwaZulu-Natal and Gauteng descended into looting, chaos, and destruction after Jacob Zuma’s imprisonment. Though probably instigated by disgruntled pro-Zuma supporters, it is clear that the protests very quickly spun out of control.

In newspapers, the question was repeatedly asked: did we see the hungry poor looting for food, or the opportunistic middle-class turning up in cars and bakkies to grab big-screen TVs and fridges? While images and videos clearly show that the latter were present in large numbers, the sight of other people – including gogos – ransacking supermarkets and running off on foot with loaves of bread and bags of maize meal, point to the former. In short, if people had jobs and hope that their lives would improve, I doubt we would have seen such anarchy.

Only a matter of time before protests and unrest occurred

With official unemployment above 30% and the broad unemployment rate – which includes discouraged work-seekers – in excess of 40%, it was only a matter of time before protests and unrest occurred. Zuma’s imprisonment was surely incidental. If it hadn’t been that, something else would have triggered the chaos.

COVID-19 also aggravated the situation, with 1,4 million people losing their jobs as a result of lockdown measures. In addition, the R350 COVID-relief grant expired at the end of April, leaving many with less food on the table.

A number of people argue that, in light of what has happened, we should bring back the relief grant; government may not have much choice now, given the lingering effect of 16 months of COVID restrictions on levels of unemployment and poverty. It will simply have to rearrange its budget to do so. However, we can’t stop at grants.

Even though a grant puts a bit of food in your stomach, it does not give you hope that the future will look better than today. It’s that bleak-looking future, that sense of nothing to lose, that fuels the looting and gives unsavoury politicians leverage for their selfish interests. Contrast this behaviour with that of taxi drivers, who came out to protect malls and chase away looters. They did so because they have something to lose, a stake in the economy to protect.

Every South African has a stake in the economy

We need to ensure that every South African has a stake in the economy. That way, people will have a sense of belonging, they will have options and agency, and they will have resources to improve their lives. They will have hope that the future will look better than the present. A person with a stake in the system is unlikely to break that system. 

We therefore need to seriously reconsider our policies, speed up much-needed change, and start building a believable message of hope – hope stemming from real concern for the plight of the poor, and serious implementation of policy. To help the poor, we need to create jobs, and for that we need investment.

Analysis of economic data shows that for every percentage point rise in private investment as percentage of GDP, we lift GDP growth by a third of a percentage point. And, on average, for every percentage point that GDP grows, employment increases by 1%. In recent years, private investment has averaged a mere 12% of GDP. If we can lift it to 15%, or even to 18%, GDP can grow by an extra one or two percentage points. It might not sound much, but after a decade or two it makes a big difference.

However, for this to happen, the government will have to see the private sector as a true partner whose expertise and capital can leverage the state’s plans. With such an approach, for instance, it would not be necessary for government to own and run an airline – a private operator will fill the gap in the market with its own capital, saving government billions of rands. And the government could long ago have let the private sector play a key role in the generation of electricity, instead of resisting change and only belatedly agreeing to lift the cap on private generation capacity from 1 MW to 100 MW.

Build communities where people escape poverty and have hope

The type and location of investment is also important. Data from the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research shows that SA’s urban population will have increased to between 50 million and 52 million by 2035. This is an increase of 12 million to 14 million compared to 2018.

We must use the opportunity to build green industries. It will save money and build a better environment. In short, as a growth strategy, we need a green, urban-driven investment strategy that caters for SA’s burgeoning urban population.

That way, we can build communities where people have a stake in the economy, where they have jobs and businesses, escape poverty, and have hope that their future and that of their children will improve.

• The article was first published in Business Day


News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

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