![]() |
Former South African deputy president Jacob Zuma (right) is led into a Nairobi hotel by general manager Clive Webster, shortly after his arrival for a private visit to Kenya in July, 2001. | When he fired Jacob Zuma as deputy president recently, South African President Thabo Mbeki chose his words carefully in explaining his action on a man who had for many years been his most loyal political protege.
Mbeki said that although he still had "very high esteem in the person of Mr Zuma," he was compelled to relieve him of his job because he had come to the conclusion that "circumstances dictate that, in the interest of the honourable deputy president, the government, our young democratic system and our country, it would be best to relieve Hon Jacob Zuma of his responsibility as deputy president of the Republic of South Africa and member of the Cabinet."
Not that he had committed a crime or was accused of plotting to overthrow Mbeki's government, but Zumas sin was said to be the company he kept.
He had bad company and paid the ultimate price for it political death.
The problems started when his close friend, Schabir Shaik, who was described by the South African Press as the financial adviser to the fallen politician, was convicted for fraud, bribery and other forms of corruption, and sentenced to 15 years' jail.
'Pair generally corrupt'
The court said that although there was nothing to directly link Zuma to Shaiks shady multi-million-dollar deals, there were indications that the pair "was generally corrupt."
Shaik, a flamboyant former freedom fighter with the African National Congress (ANC), who turned businessman and international wheeler-dealer in the murky but highly lucrative world of defence and arms trade, enjoyed extremely cordial relations with Zuma.
Long before Shaiks conviction and Zumas sacking, it was believed in South Africas corridors of power that any deal Shaik wanted he got it, thanks to his association with the deputy president.
The straw that broke the back of the camel that Shaik had been riding and minting millions of rand in the process, revolved around a French arms company that was trying to clinch a multi-billion-rand defence contract with the South African Defence Forces (SADF).
It was later leaked that Shaik had negotiated a sweetheart deal with the French firm in which he and the deputy president were to be put on an annual retainer of millions of rand if it went through.
But things did not go according to plan and, instead of clinching the deal, he found himself before Mr Justice Hillary Squires.
As the trial went on, Zuma kept pleading his innocence and declaring that he would not resign just because his associate had been arraigned in court.
True to his political form, he accused the media and "political enemies" of trying to hound him out of office for "no good reason."
Zuma, 63, is a very popular politician, especially among the South African youth, and more so in his Kwa-Zulu Natal home turf. He is credited with having brokered peace between rivals ANC and the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) of Mangosuthu Buthelezi.
He also had the backing of the countrys umbrella labour organisation, the Confederation of South African Trade Unions, or Cosatu, not to mention a groundswell of support from within the ruling party.
Some of his supporters in Cosatu cautioned Mbeki against taking any action on him, claiming that "sinister forces out to prevent Zuma from succeeding Mbeki as president in 2009 had framed him."
But this did not stop the president from firing his political ally when he believed it was in the national interest to do so.
The Zuma saga is not the only example of how seriously the Pretoria government takes corruption.
In April, 20 MPs were charged with making fraudulent travel claims. If convicted, they could be heavily fined and lose their seats.
Mbeki's bold action should be a wake-up call to other African leaders faced with the dilemma of dealing with corrupt Cabinet ministers.
Take, for instance, the situation in Kenya. Several ministers and other senior government officials have had their names or those of business associates mentioned adversely in corruption investigations.
Kenyans have called for the resignation of such officials, but President Kibaki has not been particularly forthcoming in dealing with his lieutenants in such circumstances.
It must have been particularly disheartening for many of them when a minister who had been embroiled in a dubious tax-exemption deal and was being pressurised to resign, pontificated: "When I met the President, he asked me what this hullabaloo was all about and wanted to know whose goat I had eaten"
Of course, the minister just like others whose names had been mentioned adversely is still in office.
In neighbouring Uganda, President Yoweri Museveni has not been forthcoming either. Senior officials of his government as well as some members of his family have had their names mentioned in corrupt deals.
But Museveni, who a few years ago appeared to be one of the more inspirational new-generation African leaders, has taken little, if any, action against those close to him who have been linked to shady deals.
With claims that M7, as Ugandans fondly refer to their leader, is trying to manipulate the system to go for a third, and possibly life, term, he appears more and more like a man from the endangered old-generation African leaders.
The Danish government recently stopped all aid to Malawi in reaction to the increasing "high-level corruption and political intolerance" by the government. Charge d'affaires Finn Skadkaer Pedersen said "a weak administration" in Malawi since 1995 had made it difficult to implement development programmes.
Stories and well-documented cases of high-level corruption abound in Africa. However, instead of many leaders taking the beast head on the Mbeki style, they either pretend it does not exist in their backyard or acknowledge its presence and then simply shoo it away to another spot on the compound.
Recent studies show that corruption is costing the continent an average of $145 billion a year, increasing the cost of goods by as much as 20 per cent and deterring international investment as well as preventing local economic development.
Unless African leaders are willing to deal with the scourge by taking bold steps to send a loud and clear message that no one is indispensable, the continental will continue to sink deeper in poverty and under-development.
As World Bank president Paul Wolfowitz said the other day, Mbeki dismissed his deputy not because he had been convicted of corruption, but because his closest financial adviser had been.
The bottom line here is political responsibility whether or not there is legal responsibility.
Speaking at a Corporate Council on Africa banquet on June 23, the World Bank chief introduced another dimension to the issue of graft in Africa: "Let's hold a mirror up to ourselves and remember that every corrupt transaction has two parties a corruptee and a corruptor.
"And if the African people and their leaders are stepping up to the challenge of dealing with the corruptee, those of us in the developed world have the responsibility to address corruptors as well to help African countries, as the Nigerians are seeking to do now, to recover some of the stolen wealth that is sitting in bank accounts where it doesn't belong."
Nothing could sum up the tragedy better than Mr Wolfowitzs words. But what became of the Government's much-touted hunt for stolen billions stashed in foreign bank accounts?
|