The late Frederik Van Zyl Slabbert, who led the official opposition in Parliament from 1979 until his resignation in 1986, was critical of my term of office in the same position.
At the time of my own resignation, years later in 2007, he suggested that my political and parliamentary style was “pure Westminster”.
The debate on what constitutes the “correct” style and approach in politics continues to this day.
It has been brought into the sharpest relief this week, here on our southern tip of Africa, by the DA’s so-called “flag burning” advertisement, more on which anon.
However, one of the best practitioners of pure and genuine Westminster politics is William Hague, an acquaintance, whose huge intelligence and wit, was insufficient to remove from office the mighty Tony Blair and his resurgent Labour Party, who won three consecutive general elections between 1997 and 2010 – the party held power for an unbroken 13 years.
Is end nigh for Tories?
Hague led the opposition Conservative Party from 1997 until 2001. He reflected this week on the walloping his party received last Thursday in the English local elections (suggesting a landslide for Labour might be in the offing in the general election later this year) and that after 14 unbroken years in office, the end is likely nigh for the Tories.
He wrote:
That is one Westminster habit it might be worth importing here: Britain does not generally extend the life of one party in government for – a maximum of one and half decades, usually, as Hague indicates, throwing out the party in power in far less time.
One of our problems here, both in reckoning on our distant past under 46 years of unbroken National Party rule (1948-1994) and now after 30 years of unbroken African National Congress rule, is that uninterrupted decades in power, whether National or African National, is not generally good news for a country’s democratic health.
Of course, there is a world of difference between the two regimes; the NP represented and was accountable to only a minority, and the ANC has a democratic legitimacy conferred on it by our embracing and all-inclusive Constitution.
Uncompetitive behaviour
But the excesses of uninterrupted and essentially unchallenged power, even mediated by elections and a multi-party Parliament, remains the same: monopolies – whether in business or in politics – lead to uncompetitive behaviour and are bad news for the consumer or the voter.
A final takeaway from the era when Hague led the Tories in the UK was that, by all accounts, every week in Parliament he was far better and sharper than Prime Minister Tony Blair during question time (a far more gladiatorial and robust affair than the tame questions, sent-in-advance, version on offer here during our president’s question time).
But it made not the slightest jot of difference beyond what commentators called the “Westminster bubble”. Hague might have impressed the parliamentary chattering classes, but for the vast swathe of voters outside the cloistered confines of the Houses of Parliament, he cut no ice and was defenestrated with ease by Blair in the 2001 general election.
Cutting through to the vast swathe of voters on the dangers of a reduced ANC making a deal with either or both the EFF and MK parties in exchange for retaining power after the 29 May election doubtless was the idea behind the DA flag burning ad.
It certainly cut through, notching apparently over one million views or hits. The controversy is around the flag being burnt in the background while a voice-over offers that the ANC will – to stay in power – form a coalition with the EFF and MK. This coalition of “violence and corruption” will destroy the country, represented by the flag, which according to the ad can only be averted and the flag restored only if “voters unite behind the DA”.
It certainly also got a lot of attention and a great deal of flack from commentators and the party’s electoral competitors. Whether the outrage is real or confected is open to question, and whether it shifts any or many votes will be answered in three weeks’ time.
Of course, in a 30-second ad, there is only – beyond graphic, even shocking, imagery so much can be communicated. And what it doesn’t explain is why the DA is the “only” party that can avert this danger is left unexplained.
Dissatisfied voters
Most voters, according to the polls, are deeply dissatisfied with the country’s condition; according to one survey over 80% of respondents think the country is heading in the wrong direction.
So, most voters know their circumstances are dire, and the party in power for three decades has a lot to answer for. But whether this makes voters switch, or depresses turnout for the ANC, essentially the same thing, will be revealed soon enough.
Beyond the controversy, perhaps confined to the bubble of social media and media commentators who strain every sinew to fault-find the official opposition, the more material question is how credible is the likelihood that if its power is imperilled, the ANC will form a “doomsday alliance” with the EFF and MK?
According to ANC staunch ally Cosatu, this is the preferred option. Last week, the trade union federation president, Zingiswa Losi, said in plain terms at a Workers’ Day rally:
This comment got far less attention than the DA 30-second ad, though its potential for country and value destruction is arguably beyond measure. “Slitting the throat of whiteness” is the preference of putative coalition partner Julius Malema. So is junking vast swathes of the constitutional compact achieved here, represented by our common flag, in 1996.
And if the current wave of disinvestments – BHP Billiton, Shell and PNB Baribas – cause concern, rest assured a veritable stampede of departures from these shores awaits us if Ms Losi’s preference is realised after 29 May. She might find that her working class constituency will – by any measure – be workless after capital and companies flee the arrival of EFF (and MK) in government.
To avoid having to coalesce with anyone else, the ANC this week unleashed its leaders on the most at-risk and volatile and often violent province, KwaZulu-Natal. Interestingly, the ANC social media account labelled the arrival in the province of its top team as “an invasion”. There was little comment and no adverse reaction to this incendiary term. How does a governing party “invade” one of the nine constituted provinces of the country?
And what on earth does this mean? Inflated language? Fair comment? Electoral hype? A call to arms?