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21 March 2024 Photo SUPPLIED
Prof Anthony Turton
Prof Anthony Turton is a water expert from the University of the Free State Centre for Environmental Management.

Opinion article by Prof Anthony Turton, Centre for Environmental Management, University of Free State.


On 30 May 2008, I was a guest speaker at the 10th Africa Day Conference hosted by UNISA in Pretoria. That was the first time I asked whether South Africa could become a failed state, citing international data on water scarcity. The evidence that I cited was visually powerful, but incomplete, so uncompelling. Yet that data confirmed work we had been doing at the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research (CSIR) in the aftermath of the publication of the National Water Resource Strategy (NWRS) in 2002. The NWRS data indicated that we had reached the limit of our water resource. We were forward-looking, and therefore in need of a model that could inform us about the future.

Approaching the water barrier

I had been impressed by the work done by Malin Falkenmark, an acclaimed Swedish scientist. She worked on the “hydraulic density of population” that measures the number of people that were competing for a given unit of water. She determined that a finite limit of 2 000 people per million litres per annum was the limit of known social stability. Any country approaching that “water barrier” would become increasingly unstable, and unless dealt with by means of technological intervention, would eventually disintegrate as a functional state.

Global data was placing us in the same risk category as the Middle East, but we also had a vibrant science, engineering and technology (SET) capability – a hangover from our arms development during the sanctions era – so we could avoid a disaster. This is the origin of my interest in state failure. By ignoring these warnings, we could see growing anarchy, increased unemployment, loss of investor confidence and the eventual collapse of the economy.

As society approaches the water barrier, policy options need to change. Before we reach the water barrier, the policy is all about building infrastructure to mobilise water for economic development. After the transition to fundamental water scarcity – when 2 000 people compete for one flow unit of water – the policy must logically be about retaining social cohesion. We must learn how to do better things with the little water we have left. This means protecting our rivers while developing the technology for recycling and recovery of water from waste and the ocean. Stated simply, my model was about the ability of an organ of state to self-correct.

The Vaal River case study

To self-correct, a coherent set of decision-making processes and procedures need to be in place. Data must flow into this decision-making black box. It must be processed and interpreted to the point where it triggers a logical decision to do something. That something is complex, for it is often abstract. It is very different to what has always been done in the past, so it requires imagination and cognitive skills embedded in a team of professionals that support the decision-making elites.

The Vaal River offers a unique case study in state failure because water lettuce was unknown before 2021. This means that when it was first reported to Rand Water at 14:31 on 5 February 2021, nobody knew what to do about it. The first person to respond was Francois van Wyk, a competent environmental scientist and water quality specialist at Rand Water. Responding immediately to the image, he launched an investigation on the river itself. As this was happening, river property owners sent an e-mail to the CEO of Rand Water on 10 February. We can therefore identify two specific moments of data input into the black box of decision-making that Rand Water represents. Van Wyk submitted his first formal report to the monthly management meeting during the second week of March 2021. We know that in March 2021, Rand Water formally took note of the presence of water lettuce, reported from two different locations.

The plant in question was unknown, so there was no record of its explosive growth rate on South African rivers contaminated by sewage. The sewage had become an issue a decade earlier, culminating with the deployment of the South African Defence Force in 2019. With the perfect vision of hindsight, we now know that sewage, warm temperatures, and water lettuce equals explosive growth.

The officials became alarmed at the level of anger from society, so they started to make a series of flawed decisions. Central to that panic was the ill-advised use of Glyphosate, a highly controversial chemical not licensed for use on water lettuce in South Africa. The crisis overwhelmed the capacity of the state to respond. It was an emergency, so shortcuts were taken in the decision-making process. Assumptions were made that other entities knew more than they actually did. Relentless pressure from increasingly impatient landowners, losing business from the impenetrable raft of water lettuce, pushed the authorities over the edge. All these factors combined, resulting in the authorisation of Glyphosate on a river of national importance, but oblivious to the depth of public sensitivity over the chemical. Report 3107/1/23 from the Water Research Commission, cautioned the decision-maker on page 6 by drawing attention to known long-term impacts that are not yet understood, often caused by additives. This cautionary note lists hepatorenal risk (damage to liver and kidney), teratogenicity (mutations), tumorigenicity (tumour forming) and transgenerational risk (the probability that the next generation of people could be affected).

Time is no longer on our side

These are all serious matters requiring sober reflection and rational decision-making. We now know that the sands of time have run out. An invasive plant, unheard of in 2021, has literally overwhelmed the Vaal River in 2024. In three years, the bureaucratic processes could not avert a disaster that has the capacity to destroy the river on which 60% of the national economy and around 20 million humans depend. More importantly, what took five decades (2 650 months) to happen in Hartbeespoort Dam, occurred in just 36 months on the Vaal. And so, as we return to Malin Falkenmark and her water barrier, we can say with growing confidence, that we are destroying what little water we have left. Our inability to self-correct is accelerating the advance of the water barrier, beyond which economic development and social stability is increasingly unlikely. We are polluting the little water we have left, with a chemical that it highly contentious, yet was chosen as the last line of defence in a rapidly unfolding calamity. It was like grasping floating flotsam as the Titanic slipped under the water in the cold Atlantic Ocean.

We can also say that at precisely 14:31 on 5 February 2021, the state failed in the water sector, because it was unable to respond to a risk that had never been encountered before. The take-home message is that we need to wake up, because it is in nobody’s interest to live in a failing state. If water lettuce, feeding on sewage, can cause so much damage, then what about the pathogens also thriving in that same water? How long can we continue to discharge untreated sewage into our rivers and expect no public health risks?

Time is no longer on our side. The rate of change now exceeds the capacity of our decision-making processes to cope. The dominoes are falling. Let’s think out of the box and stop the flow of sewage into our rivers in the first place. Now that’s a radical thought indeed. 

News Archive

Media: ANC can learn a lesson from Moshoeshoe
2006-05-20


27/05/2006 20:32 - (SA) 
ANC can learn a lesson from Moshoeshoe
ON 2004, the University of the Free State turned 100 years old. As part of its centenary celebrations, the idea of the Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture was mooted as part of another idea: to promote the study of the meaning of Moshoeshoe.

This lecture comes at a critical point in South Africa's still-new democracy. There are indications that the value of public engagement that Moshoeshoe prized highly through his lipitso [community gatherings], and now also a prized feature in our democracy, may be under serious threat. It is for this reason that I would like to dedicate this lecture to all those in our country and elsewhere who daily or weekly, or however frequently, have had the courage to express their considered opinions on pressing matters facing our society. They may be columnists, editors, commentators, artists of all kinds, academics and writers of letters to the editor, non-violent protesters with their placards and cartoonists who put a mirror in front of our eyes.

There is a remarkable story of how Moshoeshoe dealt with Mzilikazi, the aggressor who attacked Thaba Bosiu and failed. So when Mzilikazi retreated from Thaba Bosiu with a bruised ego after failing to take over the mountain, Moshoeshoe, in an unexpected turn of events, sent him cattle to return home bruised but grateful for the generosity of a victorious target of his aggression. At least he would not starve along the way. It was a devastating act of magnanimity which signalled a phenomenal role change.

"If only you had asked," Moshoeshoe seemed to be saying, "I could have given you some cattle. Have them anyway."

It was impossible for Mzilikazi not to have felt ashamed. At the same time, he could still present himself to his people as one who was so feared that even in defeat he was given cattle. At any rate, he never returned.

I look at our situation in South Africa and find that the wisdom of Moshoeshoe's method produced one of the defining moments that led to South Africa's momentous transition to democracy. Part of Nelson Mandela's legacy is precisely this: what I have called counter-intuitive leadership and the immense possibilities it offers for re-imagining whole societies.

A number of events in the past 12 months have made me wonder whether we are faced with a new situation that may have arisen. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and highly committed South Africans across the class, racial and cultural spectrum 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. It must have something to do with an accumulation of events that convey the sense of impending implosion. It is the sense that events are spiralling out of control and no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a handle on things.

I should mention the one event that has dominated the national scene continuously for many months now. It is, of course, the trying events around the recent trial and acquittal of Jacob Zuma. The aftermath continues to dominate the news and public discourse. What, really, have we learnt or are learning from it all? It is probably too early to tell. Yet the drama seems far from over, promising to keep us all without relief, and in a state of anguish. It seems poised to reveal more faultlines in our national life than answers and solutions.

We need a mechanism that will affirm the different positions of the contestants validating their honesty in a way that will give the public confidence that real solutions are possible. It is this kind of openness, which never comes easily, that leads to breakthrough solutions, of the kind Moshoeshoe's wisdom symbolises.

Who will take this courageous step? What is clear is that a complex democracy like South Africa's cannot survive a single authority. Only multiple authorities within a constitutional framework have a real chance. I want to press this matter further.

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 become "the opposition". In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there was no longer a single [overwhelmingly] dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of change. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than ones that seek to prevent it. 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 currently is 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 itself in different articulations of itself, which then contend for social influence.

In this way, the vision never really dies, it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. If the resulting versions are what is called "the opposition" that should not be such a bad thing - unless we want to invent another name for it. The image of flying ants going off to start other similar settlements is not so inappropriate.

I do not wish to suggest that the nuptial flights of the alliance partners are about to occur: only that it is a mark of leadership foresight to anticipate them conceptually. Any political movement that has visions of itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few 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 1990s. 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. It is not a time for repeating old platitudes. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed up to the adoption or our Constitution?

Morena Moshoeshoe faced similarly formative challenges. He seems to have been a great listener. No problem was too insignificant that it could not be addressed. He seems to have networked actively across the spectrum of society. He seems to have kept a close eye on the world beyond Lesotho, forming strong friendships and alliances, weighing his options constantly. He seems to have had patience and forbearance. He had tons of data before him before he could propose the unexpected. He tells us across the years that moments of renewal demand no less.

  • This is an editied version of the inaugural Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture presented by Univeristy of Cape Town vice-chancellor Professor Ndebele at the University of the Free State on Thursday. Perspectives on Leadership Challenges In South Africa

 

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