It is a case of every man, woman or party for themselves, and the country buckles in the absence of joined-up government, writes Tony Leon.

In Zbig, a new and fascinating biography of the late hardline US National Security Advisor, Zbigniew Brzezinski, Edward Luce writes, “figures in senior [government] roles have no time to replenish their stock of intellectual capital; their job is to spend it.”

Our local rulers, though, appear bankrupt of ideas, money or concrete actions to head off the perfect storm engulfing SA right now. Past inactions, in fact, crowd out current options; cosmetics mask the craters of grim realities, and sermonising substitutes for strategy in many instances.

Take the basic architecture of the state itself, the government of national unity (GNU). The end of June marked its first anniversary, though this was largely a joyless affair with the two main parties in it trading insults and sniping at each other to offset blame for its singular lack of achievement on the two cardinal issues which commanded its formation: boosting the economic growth rate and reducing unemployment via attracting investment and stabilising the ship of state.

Way back in 1756, Voltaire offered the witty observation of the Holy Roman Empire that it “was neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire”.

Missing in action

Applying this diagnostic to the local GNU we could perhaps conclude that it is not in the true sense a unified government of the national interest at all.

It is trite to note that three basic functions of the state – and thus government – are to maintain law and order to protect its citizens, provide security to defend against external threats and deliver public services. On this tryptich, our government is missing in action or worse.

Most readers know and experience the realities of the essence of state failure, from the staggering murder and violent crime rate to the looming disaster of the tariff war now unleashed by the White House against the country, and the absence of concrete action-ready countermeasures to mitigate this.

The collapsed infrastructure of most major and lesser municipalities speaks for itself, and the causes for the rot are easier to locate than to remediate.

Still, even shock-proofed South Africans might have been taken aback by the Sunday Times tally that no fewer than 148 local government officials have been murdered since 2018, with a surge since 2021. Archly, the municipal trade union, Samwu, linked dysfunction to assassination: “It stated that corruption and violence in municipalities are closely connected to the collapse of service delivery.”

We are led 

Since a significant number of these killings were in the combustible KwaZulu-Natal (KZN) province, the link between absent and effective law enforcement on the one hand and a functioning state on the other was recently exposed by its top police officer.

Provincial SAPS commissioner Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi went public recently with incendiary claims that the police minister, Senzo Mchunu, some judicial officers and law enforcement bodies were colluding with organised crime bosses. Mchunu has since been placed on gardening leave, yet another minister temporarily appointed in his place, and yet another commission of enquiry appointed to investigate. We are led.

There might not be much effective governance, but we certainly have a lot of government. This past weekend, the ANC NEC concluded that while its major governing partner, the DA, was guilty of “theatrics”, it would not (yet) be expelled from government. Though the antidote to state dysfunction, the ruling party advises, is to add yet more parties to the already overstuffed GNU.

The DA, on the other hand, has apparently made a different calculation. Since the ANC has yet to operationalise the “statement of intent” duly signed by both parties 14 months ago, it will simply carry on performing its ministerial tasks, and hope that the uptick in its polling fortunes translates next year to winning a lot of new municipalities. And this in turn will set the party up to run the ANC very close in the 2029 general election.

Ironically, had the ANC bothered to tie all parties in the GNU to an agreed programme of governance, the DA’s room for manoeuvre and differentiation would have been curbed. But, since the same agreement requires – effectively – concurrence between the ANC and DA on such a programme, this in turn would have diluted the “national democratic revolution” and its domestic (BEE, cadre deployment etc) and foreign (anti-Western) policy pillars. Instead, it is a case of every man, woman or party for themselves, and the country buckles in the absence of joined-up government.

A political mistake 

DA leader John Steenhuisen made bold on 26 June to issue a 48-hour ultimatum after President Cyril Ramaphosa fired deputy minister Andrew Whitfield. He advised that “grave consequences” would follow what he termed “one of the greatest political mistakes in modern South African history”.

Having demanded in exchange the ministerial scalps of all ANC ministers implicated in corruption (which in one fell swoop would have achieved the long-sought reduction in Cabinet size), he settled for just one and a half heads: axed minister Nobhule Nkabane (though who achieved her decapitation is contested) and a paid holiday for Mchunu.

Many critics have lashed Steenhuisen for serial humiliations meted out to his party by an overbearing ANC, which seems to treat its governing partner as more irritant than essential prop for ANC rule.

Others point to the problem of unmet demands, equivalent to Chekov’s gun when the Russian playwright apparently said, “One must never place a loaded gun on the stage if it isn’t going to go off.”

But we can’t determine from here the effect of the DA staying its hand, pocketing its dignity and biting its tongue (on some matters) and even losing a frontline spokeswoman in the process. If its participation in GNU reaps electoral reward, opens hitherto reluctant voters to give the party consideration, then serial humiliations and disappearing red lines might be a small down payment for future success. But this too is pregnant with many “what ifs” and potential hazards.

One DA spokesperson uninhibited by the party from giving full vent to a fundamental division in the disunified government is trade and industry spokesman, Toby Chance.

Ironically having removed the DA from any role in the DTIC since axing Whitfield, the DA can now go full oppositional on the burning matter of the Trump tariffs and our inability (unlike tiny neighbouring Lesotho for example) to carve out any softer deals with Washington.

The aptly named Chance took one when he told the Financial Times on Tuesday: “We have these tariffs now because the two critical government departments that could have made a difference – trade and international relations – have been missing in action.”

Little difference 

Rather spectacularly, the international relations minister, Ronald Lamola , whose expensive and unled Washington embassy is apparently nowhere in sight as SA is in the fight of its life, advised that the five-month absence of an ambassador made no difference to the outcome of trade talks.

Translated this could mean that ambassadorial functions are more ornamental than essential. Perhaps recall them all and pocket the savings to send to National Treasury to pay the uncosted bill for the strung together relief measures announced by trade and industry minister Parks Tau.

Meantime back at the ranch as the saying goes, between accusations of “theatrics”, missing in action governance, unmet threats, strategies that work not just wish lists for the future are current orders of the day.

A GNU which promised both economic growth and a reduction of unemployment is about to witness, post-tariffs, a severe dwindling of the former and aggravation of the latter. That is the clear and future danger which risks engulfing all parties.

Time to spend some political capital on addressing this.