South African democracy is approaching its thirtieth year but is perceived to be rapidly reaching a tipping point. Many reasons are put forward to account for this troubling situation, set against a backdrop of increasing inequalities and a not-so-better life for all. At the top of the list are uncontrollable corruption occurring under the ANC, hardened attitudes by the white minority that continues to hog wealth and the so-called ‘democracy deficit’.
This deficit can manifest in various ways, such as limited citizen participation, lack of transparency, insufficient protection of civil liberties or shortcomings in the responsiveness of state institutions to the needs and preferences of the population. In the South African context, the democratic deficit rears its ugly head in all these situations, primarily characterised by limited citizen participation and an unresponsive state to the needs of the black majority.
The main reason for this occurrence stems from the ANC’s transitioning into becoming what Aubrey Matshiqi calls “an ally of coloniality”. Coloniality refers to the persistence of colonial power structures and relationships in the post-colonial era. Therefore, Matshiqi argues that the ANC is complicit in maintaining these structures by prioritising the interests of whites over those of black people.
Essentially, the mishandling of freedom by the ANC has ushered in an era of disorder, particularly concerning the political aspirations of the black majority.
Often portrayed as a good sign of a maturing democracy, the mushrooming of clueless and directionless political parties is the epitome of this disorder as they present themselves as a better alternative. These parties are a symptom of the deeper problems facing the country and also contribute to the confusion and disillusionment of the public, further hindering the articulation of black people’s needs. This makes it more challenging to address the systemic inequalities and injustices that continue to plague South African society.
But also, the disorderliness has left acres of space for civil society, such as Afriforum, OUTA, Freedom Under Law and Solidariteit Unie, as well as champions of white politics in the DA and the Vryheidsfront Plus. While the role of civil society and white-led political parties is acknowledged, it is necessary to caution that these developments could further polarise South African society. Their dominance of democratic spaces complicates the goal of creating a truly united and equitable society that is free of internal colonialism.
In a number of his works, Mahmood Mamdani has elaborated on the complexities of civil society and its entanglements with whiteness in a series of influential works. He argues that civil society, often presented as a progressive force for social change, can be complicit in perpetuating racial hierarchies and marginalising marginalised communities. In his book ‘Citizen and Subject: Contemporary Africa and the Legacy of Late Colonialism’, he contends that the colonial legacy of indirect rule shaped civil society in Africa and this created a bifurcated political order.
Mamdani argues that this bifurcated civil society has perpetuated racial hierarchies, as the Western-style civil society has largely been dominated by the educated elite, often from privileged backgrounds. This elite, Mamdani argues, has been more focused on protecting its own interests and assimilating into Western norms than on addressing the needs of marginalised communities.His views resonate with those of Frantz Fanon decades earlier.The backlash against civil society in the Global South these obvious tensions.
In ‘Define and Rule: Native as Political Subject’, Mamdani argues that civil society organisations often prioritise Western-style democracy and human rights over genuine African concerns and that they have been reluctant to challenge the underlying structures of power that perpetuate inequality. This is the case of white civil society groups and white parties in South Africa. They are fervent defenders of white interests and have been accused of trying to reverse the gains of the anti-apartheid struggle.
All civil society has often been employed to sideline and exclude the black majority and has been tardy in tackling the vestiges of colonialism and apartheid. This is unsurprising, considering that they get their funding from external sources that do not necessarily have a full appreciation of the needs of South Africa’s black majority.
Black groups that are purported to be more equipped to promote black interests have either crumbled or been subsumed by the grandeur of capitalism. The most prominent examples in this regard are traditional, black-focused civic organisations, including COSATU SANCO and the South African Council of Churches. Organisations like Abahlali BaseMjondolo are left to fight a fierce battle on their own against the lack of socioeconomic rights in South Africa, while others are fuelling corruption under state capitalism.
COSATU was once a powerful force in South African politics but has been weakened in recent years by internal divisions and the insidious influence of business interests (trade union capitalism). This has led to a situation where COSATU is no longer able to effectively represent the interests of its members, many of whom are black South African workers. The decline of COSATU’s influence and its entanglement in the ANC’s village politics has created an unpleasant vacuum, a veritable ‘no man’s land’.
In 1991, Snuki Zikalala observed that trade union leadership found itself “involved in ANC, SACP, PAC, AZAPO, Inkatha and Nationalist Party politics more than in the trade unions”. He lamented that this overlap in leadership would compromise the independence of trade unions. That is exactly what has happened in the last thirty years: trade unionists crossed the political bridge to warm the hard parliamentary benches, dose-off in cabinet meetings and occupy executive positions. This situation reached an unprecedented peak after they sang their lungs out in the lead-up to the Polokwane conference.
Zikalala, who is now a potent batsman in ANC factional politics, also accurately predicted that “once a political party makes a mistake, the trade union or federation will be afraid to openly criticise the political party.” His concern was that COSATU and its affiliates would be “compelled ‘for unity’s sake’ to follow an unendorsed line without consulting the workers”. Now, this jeopardises COSATU’s credibility as a representative body of workers and hinders its ability to hold the ANC accountable.
In the early days of the democratic dispensation, COSATU was the main leader of public discourses and no public matter or policy would pass without its razor-sharp criticism and scrutiny. At the same time, the trade union body was extremely reflective about all situations and also critiqued itself. The brain drain to the state and ANC politics means that COSATU was deprived of this sharpness and leadership. It now faces the wrath of the masses together with its bedroom partner, the ANC.
In the early years of the democratic era, COSATU emerged as a powerful voice in public discourse, and no public matter or policy would pass without its razor-sharp criticism and scrutiny. Simultaneously, the trade union body was extremely reflective about all situations and also critiqued itself. However, the brain drain to the state and the ANC’s political machinery has robbed COSATU of its critical edge and leadership. Now, it faces the wrath of disillusioned masses together with its bedroom partner, the ANC.
COSATU was never scared to plunge into the deepest side of the pool by not only questioning but also raising critical questions about its role in South African society. It was reflective, engaging and confrontational about many issues, from the country’s economic policy to VAT. In the 1990s, the ANC decided to pursue an economic strategy, the Growth, Employment and Redistribution (GEAR) Strategy of 1996, which was a more orthodox neoliberal framework characterised by market fundamentalism.
COSATU contended that GEAR was a clear example of policy driven by panic due to “pressure from the amorphous market” and further alleged that “there is a concerted attempt to impose capital’s agenda on society as the only feasible alternative to social and economic transformation”. With GEAR, it meant that South Africa had adopted a ‘low road’ approach to fulfilling its human rights obligations, relying on market forces to ensure long-term food security, for example, while simultaneously implementing a short-term social safety net to support vulnerable populations.
Rationalising this situation, COSATU bemoaned that “Since the elections, the Alliance has never sat down to systematically look at the challenges of the transition and formulate a strategy, and the role of our various formations in that strategy.” It went further, “Nor was this done for those in parliament, government, various formations outside of government and the state sector. No programme was formulated for engagement of the masses.” Thabo Mbeki and the ANC were very sensitive to this criticism, which was necessary by all accounts to keep them on their toes and accountable.
Mbeki once chided, “Again an insulting inference is made that, for some reason which, if I may speak frankly, your comrades in the ANC do not understand and resent most intensely, the ANC no longer represents the interests of the masses of the people.” He complained that the ANC, as the “proud leader of our liberation movement” was being accused of “having transformed itself into a virtual enemy of the people.” Today, it is interesting that Mbeki, like Jacob Zuma, castigates the ANC but excludes himself.
Nonetheless, the voice of COSATU was necessary for the country’s body politic as it consistently proved how South Africa, as per the critique by Naomi Klein, stood “as a living testament to what happens when economic reform is severed from political transformation”. Mbeki’s frustration with the commandeering leftist voice escalated at the 10th SACP Congress in 1998, where he strongly criticised their remarks, interpreting them as insinuating that “the progressive traditions of our movement are represented by forces outside the ANC”.
COSATU’s voice is sorely missed in the shaping of public discourses in South Africa; embarrassing situations like the killing of black workers in Marikana could have been avoided. Deepening poverty as a result of economic engineering that oppresses millions would not have gone unchecked. COSATU understood its role very well, as it once pointed out that transformation required the development of innovative strategies to effectively address the challenges and demands of the new era.
COSATU then anticipated its downfall for its lack of foresight: “It [would] be a sad day for trade unionism if COSATU was to become a sweetheart federation.” Probably, it has gone worse than that today since it is quiet in the face of injustices that continue unabated.
If the ANC loses power in a few months or later, COSATU and its affiliates could also fall, potentially joining the ANC in the annals of history as organisations that failed to fully capitalise on the limited political gains made by black South Africans. COSATU and affiliates have no clear strategy against a very complex economy and dwindling membership.
Notwithstanding the claims of some current pretenders to the throne, a stronger voice akin to yesteryear COSATU is needed to address the effects of a democracy deficit on the broader South African society and to raise the black voice again. The little political gains attained by the black majority are quickly evaporating without a black voice in public discourses.
Siya yi banga le economy!