The arms deal: The defining spectre of our past decade in politics

The current transitional phase that’s playing out within the ANC and, by consequence, in South Africa has led me — along with most political commentators — to look both back at the past decade in politics and governance and forward to our near-term future as a country.

In doing this, it becomes immediately apparent what a significant role the 1999 arms deal has had in shaping the South African political landscape over the past nine years. What was a controversial decision at the time has extrapolated into a festering sore for the party and the country, with influences far beyond those merely accused of being involved in the corruption scandal.

At the time in 1999, many saw the arms deal as a misguided and rather hubristic attempt at showing South Africa’s stature as an African superpower. In hindsight, it seems to be borne out as exactly that, along with the sideline of lining many white-collared pockets in the process. The arms deal spent a jaw-dropping amount of money either on protecting our nation from an invading force (very unlikely) or on enabling us to play a more significant role in peacekeeping on the continent (more likely).

However, with the inabilities in defence leadership, we now have new frigates and fighter jets that aren’t cruising or flying due to maintenance and training problems, resigning the arms deal to an expensive mistake. This, though, is the backdrop of its significance in politics and governance, and the effects of those 1999 signatures will be felt for years to come yet.

The immediate aftermath of the arms deal showed the first cracks in the adulation justifiably thrown at the ANC after 1994, offering up one of the first real opportunities for opposition groups to make inroads into the ANC’s large electoral base (which remains largely unleveraged). The first allegations of misdemeanours surfaced publicly in January 1999, with Patricia de Lille’s parliamentary allegations that monies were paid into ANC coffers by frigate manufacturer Thyssen-Krupp. The public’s absorption of these allegations ran across two fault lines. The first group was the disgruntled, old-guard whites who saw it as the first shift in an inevitable slide towards the Zimbabwean fate; the second was the far left, which felt largely sidelined by capitalist government policies and already could not believe the vast sums prioritised on armaments over poverty alleviation.

The allegations allowed those negative about the new dispensation to start spreading negative sentiment about the endemic nature of corruption in the country, locally and internationally. However, it undoubtedly led to a relaxation of perceptions around corruption at lower governance (especially municipal) levels, as there was an attitude of “well, if my leaders are doing it, why can’t I?”. This laid a platform for poor local governance that remains today.

And then one comes to the party individuals themselves. The obvious starting point is the Zuma affair, with Schabir Shaik’s role in the arms deal leading to Zuma’s sacking as deputy state president by Thabo Mbeki in 2005, which has had — and will continue to have — a massive impact on this decade’s politics. There was also the Yengeni issue, where ANC chief whip Tony Yengeni was given a luxury car discount by EADS, a potential arms-deal supplier. It has become patently obvious, however, that these two were clear fall guys for the party as a whole, especially with the recent allegations drawn out of the so-called Mabandla dossier.

The arms deal also provided the platform of personal recognition for Patricia de Lille, which enabled her to form the Independent Democrats in 2003. Although not setting opposition politics alight, the ID has played an oft-important role, especially in the context of the Western Cape coalition government that held the ANC at bay in the province.

The NPA’s role of seemingly selective prosecutions with respect to those involved in the arms deal has also led to some turbulence in the constitutional separation of powers between the judiciary and governing bodies. The NPA’s alleged political interference during these matters has led to attacks on the judiciary from inside and outside the ANC, which opens it to abuse both ways and which represents a distinct threat to the perceived strength of the judiciary in South Africa.

The current transition period within the ANC can also surely find its antecedents in the rising disillusionment felt by the left around the time of the arms deal and exacerbated up until Polokwane. The 1994 victory was supposed to herald a new socialist dawn in South Africa, but here, less than five years after freedom, we had a fat-cat capitalist deal of obscene proportions with allegations of widespread graft to boot. The Freedom Charter did not provide for this challenge, and many on the left saw this as the ultimate selling-out of the struggle.

While this doesn’t explain the left’s championing of Zuma, I would argue that the left saw in him a vehicle back to the governing table, viewing him as more of an “anti-Mbeki” than a government fat cat. Perhaps most importantly, though, the arms deal definitely added to the emboldening of the left of the ANC. It provided the moral right to campaign against the policies of the day, implying that there was evidence of the ultimate sin — greedy capitalism at the expense of the poor, where that money would have undoubtedly been better spent. This was an incredibly attractive rallying call for the destitute and those living in rural poverty, and it formed a basis for the left to become emboldened enough to make various confrontational policy attacks on the government in the two years leading up to Polokwane and, ultimately, for them to sweep back to governing prominence.

Currently, the arms deal presents a unique opportunity to those within the left sections of the ANC to go after Thabo Mbeki and other leaders within the incumbent clique and bring the graft allegations against Jacob Zuma into question. Andrew Feinstein’s book After the Party illustrated an endemic, party-wide cashing-in on the arms deal, and given Mbeki’s role in overseeing the procurement process, it is not improbable that much more laundry is about to be aired.

At last Friday’s NEC meeting, a number of high-ranking ANC members, including Tokyo Sexwale, called on Mbeki to provide all the details about the arms deal, a move that could be very uncomfortable for the party as a whole. It has become clear that the arms deal now supersedes individuals; it is a beast with tentacles all through the party. It remains a cancerous sore that could have huge implications for the ANC in the next five years.

Personally, I feel that it’s important for us as a nation to go through the short-term pain of fully investigating the truth of the entire arms-deal affair, in order for us to put this period of politics and governance behind us. It will be incredibly painful and will have huge implications for the ANC and for Zuma, but we have to draw the line somewhere, and commit, as a nation, to face up to the corruption allegations of the arms deal — whether they are ultimately proved correct or not.

The arms deal has had too much influence in South African politics and while we can’t undo the decision, it’s time that we laid all the cards on the table to allow us to close the door on this poisoned chalice.