In the final analysis democracy rests
on countervailing power able to check tendencies toward authoritarian
domination. The best counter is undoubtedly the presence of a strong
opposition party that can guard against the erosion of the autonomy of
democratic institutions and can replace a governing party that has
outstayed its welcome. The development of an opposition has
traditionally been associated with the rise of a middle class. By
contrast, the transitions to democracy of the past two decades has been
associated with the role of trade unions. Generally unions have
assisted in hastening the departure of authoritarian regimes, but have
been less successful in helping to sustain a competitive
democracy.
Taiwan bears out the approach, which emphasises broad-based
socio-economic development as a prerequisite for the maintenance of
democracy. An assertive, independent middle class and the narrowing of
economic inequalities to the lowest in the semi-industrialised world
formed the background to the country’s steady progress away from a
quasi-Leninist party-state through a dominant-party system to the
approximation of a competitive, liberal democracy. However, as Malaysia
and Singapore demonstrate, socio-economic development does not generate
an inexorable movement towards democracy. While the middle class in
Malaysia during the 1970s and 1980s increased by half, the democratic
system deteriorated to a point where domination rather than democracy
is being consolidated. The main reasons are the dependence of the Malay
middle class on the state and the lack of international incentives
rewarding democracy. Such incentives have spurred the Taiwanese in
their quest for diplomatic recognition. In Singapore the one-party
state is maintained despite the absence of a fundamental need for it on
the part of any fraction of the bourgeoisie or middle class. The
government’s criticism of “Western-style” democracy shows the
importance of the leadership variable in the process that leads to the
bedding down of a democracy.
In the past decade here has a strong focus on pacts between leading
class actors in the transition to a democracy. It is suggested that the
mode of transition to a large extent shapes the type of democracy that
is subsequently established. Taiwan illustrates the point that the
prospects for a competitive system are best when a democracy is the
result of transition through government-led transformation. South
Africa, however, can be considered as a potentially contrary case. The
Government of National Unity that flowed from the political pact
between the ANC and National Party fell apart sooner than most
observers expected.
Our argument is that it is not so much the mode of transition but the
realignment of forces after a new democratic government has established
itself in office that determines kind of democracy a society will have.
Pacts that made the transition possible are not necessarily the same as
those that sustain a new government; they are merely the means towards
institutionalising a democracy. Whether they emerge or hold depends
largely on whether socio-economic conditions are such that a fragile
democracy can take root and grow. The countries on South Africa’s
border vividly demonstrate that without vigorous economic growth
producing rising per capita incomes it is unlikely that the
socio-economic conditions would arise where democratic structures will
be effective.
Just before the transition started in 1990 South Africa had a per
capita GNP of US$ 2,290, which groups it with the upper-middle-income
Latin American countries and an Eastern European country like Hungary.
At a superficial glance it looks well within the per capita zone where
transitions to democracy could be expected. However, if one focuses on
the disenfranchised, namely the African population, one found a per
capita income of only US$ 670, that is far below the economic zone
where democratic transitions are likely, and the virtual absence of a
property owning middle class. There were in South Africa two
communities — a white community well above that economic zone and an
African community well below it.
In these unpropitious conditions there are two pacts to consider: the
first was between the white and black political elites, based on a
white and a black dominant party respectively, to make possible the
founding of a democracy. After the elections this was replaced by a
second pact, between an African elite and the downtrodden African
masses. It has two projects: to establish an African middle class
mainly through the occupancy of senior positions in the civil service
and state contracts to African suppliers, and to entrench a black
labour aristocracy. The pre-April 1994 pact and the post-April 1994
pact are quite different and it was not possible to predict purely on
the basis of the first pact what type of democracy was to be expected.
What was predictable was that big business would quickly switch from
the erstwhile dominant party to meet the demands of the new one. It is
sponsoring the enrichment of a small African elite, accepting labour
legislation that only the bigger companies can afford and is not
opposing affirmative action.
Where there is mass demand for redress and empowerment there is little
to prompt black voters to vote for opposition parties, a sentiment
which the dominant party, of course, encourages. Thus the vital
elements of democracy — genuine competition and uncertainty in
electoral outcomes — are removed. The process of entrenching dominance
is underpinned by the steady elimination of the dividing line between
the ruling party and the state, so that the ruling party comes to be
seen as the state rather than the temporary government. This in turn
steadily erodes the capacity of any class or ethnic group to retain a
sufficient degree of autonomy to develop a party that could form the
basis of a competitive system. The dominant party’s sheer preponderance
of political power leads to unilateral, and even arbitrary,
decision-making that undermines the integrity of democratic
institutions, particularly that of the legislature and its ability to
check the executive. Finally, the ruling party abuses the advantages of
incumbency and the state media to get re-elected time and again.
The key is that in less advanced and highly unequal societies, a
capitalist state has great difficulty establishing any real autonomy
from the capitalist interests on which it is dependent for investment
decisions. Forced to maintain friendly relations with the business
sector that it long considered an enemy, the dominant party is
compelled to shed its radical populism at an early stage. To be able to
“afford” this fateful compromise the party establishes a mass base
which encapsulates and captures all the popular sectors. It does offer
concessions, particularly to organised labour, but the price for labour
is its political emasculation. This attracts big business to the ruling
party for as long as the integrative coalition provides stability. In
societies with deep ethnic divisions, such as South Africa and
Malaysia, this popular base is at the same time a racial or ethnic one.
While ethnic or racial solidarity provides no clear basis for political
action in a capitalist system premised on competitiveness, a party is
increasingly forced to rely on ethnic or racial appeals, particularly
when both growth and redistribution are modest. Given the superiority
of appeals to identity over appeals to class, an alternation in
government is much more unlikely in South Africa and Malaysia than in
Mexico or Taiwan.
For quite some time the ANC will have to live with the economic
domination of whites and of the corporate world by a few large
companies controlled by whites. As a result of sanctions the share of
multinationals in the economy has been disproportionally reduced. That
means there cannot be the Malaysian pattern of redistribution: in the
period 1971-90 the Malay share of equity increased to 20 per cent while
the foreign share of equity dropped from 62 to 25 per cent. The liberal
macroeconomics of the 1990s puts severe limits on government
intervention in the private sector or on using state corporations to
expand the share of African equity holding.
Compared to the dominant parties in Mexico, Malaysia and Taiwan, the
ANC’s success in establishing itself as a coalition that transcends
both ethnic groups and classes has been much more modest. Its project
of building a “rainbow nation” in which everyone can find a place
remains vague and riddled with contradictions. Severe budget
constraints and an inefficient civil service make it unlikely that its
2-3 per cent electoral support among whites will improve. While the ANC
has done well to keep populist tendencies in check, its leadership is
showing growing irritation with what it terms reactionary elements of
the old regime. It is directed at the press and white-led opposition
parties for their lack of support for “nation-building” and constant
criticism.
As a result the ANC has increasingly abandoned its 1994 election
appeal of non-racism for an explicit call to African solidarity.
While mocking the “Mickey Mouse white parties”, Mandela calls on all
predominantly black parties to unite. The superior pressure of the
black middle class and labour aristocracy in this racial alliance
ensures that their interests take precedence at the expense of the
non-unionised and unemployed blacks. This is taking place particularly
in two areas. The unionised work force enjoys a degree of statutory
protection — in certain areas of labour legislation approaching that of
Scandinavian countries. Such policies make it very difficult for the
large army of unemployed to get into the labour market. Furthermore,
with very little job creation in the economy the competition for
employment between whites and blacks will increasingly take on a
zero-sum quality. This stands in sharp contrast to Malaysia, where
despite preferential policies favouring Malays, labour force growth in
the manufacturing sector has been high enough also to absorb Chinese as
well as Malay entrants. Finally, any policy that interferes too much
with the competitiveness of firms will have a negative impact on the
balance of payments.
The ANC will be forced to straddle seemingly impossible contradictions
in its attempts to reconcile the majority and minorities. Apart from
the “broad church” and populist character of the party there are two
other factors to take into account. The ANC’s dominance of the
political system is heavily qualified by forces outside the area of
formal politics which it does not control, such as organised business,
the international financial community, and the courts whose benches are
still staffed by whites. Although weak, the minority parties have put
up stiff fights in the areas of health and education policy. The result
is compromises that increasingly strain the coherence of the party,
without really threatening to split it. As in the case of Malaysia,
another deeply divided society, dominant-party rule of South Africa has
give rise to a “syncretic state”. This is a state with a remarkable
ability to combine a mix of ideological approaches, allowing the
leadership to blur the lines between state and society. Thus South
Africa has seen a bewildering mix of clashing commitments: colour-blind
merit and affirmative action rules of ethnic preferment, non-racism and
Africanisation, free market acceptance and tight regulation of the
labour market, state patronage for African contractors and
near-monopolies for large white-controlled corporations, and so
on.
Largely to contain the pressures which managing the syncretic state
produces, the ANC leadership has tended to concentrate as much power as
possible in its own hands both in its control of the party and at
governmental level. The party hierarchy has tried to impose its choice
on virtually every leadership vacancy or intra-party feud at the
provincial level. At the same time central government has refused to
share any power with the provinces by devolving a meaningful measure of
discretion in the vital areas of policing, health care and education.
While this route will, for the present, yield success at the polls, the
costs will be increasing organisational decay of the party and racial
polarisation. It could put South Africa on the same road as Zimbabwe
where dominance and corruption have produced such cynicism and apathy
that elections are a travesty of democracy.
Three responses towards one-party domination have emerged in the ranks
of liberal democrats. The first is the expectation in classic liberal
mould that race-based voting which ensures ANC dominance is a temporary
phenomenon. Voters are expected to become policy and issue oriented as
they pursue their different material aspirations and shed their racial
or ethnic concerns. In a recent statement, the chairman of the largest
conglomerate, Anglo American Corporation, expressed the view that too
many critics are “pessimistic” about the democratic prospects of South
Africa. He believes there to be sufficient democratic checks and
balances, while the development of a market economy will bring about a
political realignment with both the ruling party and opposition “more
accurately reflecting values and interests”.
Our evidence is that such an expectation is not realistic. As in the
case of the Malays and the Afrikaners in pre-1994 South Africa, the
state explicitly favours black South Africans. Ethnic patronage in the
form of favouritism in bureaucratic appointments and state contracts
awarded to businessmen produces a state-sponsored middle class whose
commitment to the dominant party outweighs that to a neutral state or
the need for opposition politics. South Africa’s electoral system
enables the black elite to mobilise the mass of blacks behind it, a
task made easier by the known fact that wealth is still concentrated
among whites and that the system does not offer rewards for racial
moderation. While this is the case election results are likely to
continue to resemble a racial census.
The second interpretation, which is favoured by Steven Friedman, is to
put South Africa in the category of liberal democracies, although it
concedes that minority parties are quite possibly doomed by racial
cleavages to remain so. This interpretation employs a dichotomy: either
dominance is achieved by partly or wholly undemocratic means as in
Mexico and Singapore; or dominance is an expression of the will of the
electorate and the success of the dominant party in appealing to it.
Putting South Africa in the second category, he sees ANC dominance as a
democratic achievement. But Friedman implicitly argues that South
Africa’s classification as a liberal democracy will only hold if the
ANC maintains an “internal pluralism”. It must allow every faction in
the party to win at least some battles and keep its hold over the
greater part of civil society, a part that is proving fractious and
difficult to control. At the same time South Africa must sustain an
“external pluralism” of opposition parties able to represent
significant constituencies.
The basis of Friedman’s cautious optimism, then, is that political
competition is the central issue for liberal democracy and that South
Africa has such competition. The trouble with this approach is its
sharp distinction between democratic and authoritarian politics when in
fact there is a continuum of possibilities. One cannot make sense of
the Taiwanese experience over the past decade without thinking of
movement along a continuum in a liberal democratic direction. Nor can
one explore South African issues without taking into account that
democratic practices are not yet well enough established to use the
notion of competition without some qualifications. For instance, the
white-led opposition parties were prevented from campaigning in black
townships where the ANC swept the floor in the 1994 election. If this
happens again the notion of competition will be severely compromised. A
dichotomous approach also does not take into account that matters could
get worse by degrees (as happened in South Africa after 1960) as well
as better by degrees.
More importantly Friedman relies too much on the model of dominant
parties in advanced industrialised societies such as Sweden, Italy and
Japan where the socio-economic conditions for democratic competition
are much better realised and where there are no deep ethnic cleavages
which correspond with socio-economic inequalities. Also the dominant
parties in these cases did not originate in a crisis that gripped the
entire society but more mildly when the opportunity arose for
fundamentally reshaping political alignments.
The third interpretation is favoured by Heribert Adam and elaborated
in the study Comrades in Business: post-liberation politics in South
Africa (Tafelberg, 1997) that he co-authored with Kogila Moodley and
Frederik Van Zyl Slabbert. The central thrust is to see South Africa as
an increasingly homogeneous society while the ANC is depicted as an
upper-middle-income country version of a social democratic party in
government, but one severely compromised by its dependence on business.
It argues that the ANC is the only party that can guarantee democracy
and stabilise the new order.
This study is in rather sharp contrast with our interpretation and
concerns. While recognising the stabilising capacity of a dominant
party we see equal, if not greater, dangers in its rule. We believe
that dominant parties may both reflect and cause suppression of
political competition. On the one hand there is the behaviour of the
electorate which returns the same party again and again to a position
of dominance; on the other hand there is the ability of a dominant
party to close out opposition in a number of possible ways. The latter
include entrenching permanent minorities, eroding the conditions for
competition by muzzling or intimidating the press, taking
administrative action against opponents, allowing or encouraging no-go
areas during election campaigns (as happened on a wide scale in 1994)
and stealing elections.
Comrades in Business latches onto corporatism as some kind of panacea
to the uneven and polarising distribution of income, but the authors’
interpretation becomes a roller coaster of contradictory moods and
perspectives. A calmer perspective on South Africa’s future is needed,
one that focuses on higher economic growth and broader-based
development as prerequisites for democratic consolidation. It is
important not to overlook historical continuities amid all the policy
fanfares of the dominant party. In 1990, John Kane-Berman, director of
the South African Institute of Race Relations, which published an
exhaustive annual survey of life under apartheid, stated that in the
preceding 15 to 20 years the country had undergone a “silent
revolution”. Urban blacks undramatically but purposefully not only
broke down much of apartheid, but also advanced their position through
their own efforts of organisation. They did the latter despite the
relative absence of government intervention on their behalf and even
government curbs. Unrealistic campaign promises by the dominant party
have stifled some of the remarkable efforts of the poor to take their
fate in their own hands.
The second point to make is that nothing suggests that the potential
South African growth rate is high. It will take time to eliminate the
lag between the development of its human capital and its relatively
sophisticated physical capital. Conflicts over claims to current output
are high with a consequent adverse impact on savings and investment.
The state’s ability to support private enterprise without appropriate
infrastructure is limited, and is not helped by the ANC’s frequent
opting for complicated, rather than the simplest possible programmes
and procedures.
To question the ability of the ANC to manage both the state apparatus
and intra-ethnic conflict is not to subscribe to the “racist assumption
that blacks in charge will fail sooner or later. Rather it is to assert
the limits of managerial expertise presently available in government
and to make the point that a certain type of “strong man” politics,
characteristic of developing countries, serves to vitiate rather than
build up, developmental capacity. On the positive side of the South
African balance sheet are declining fertility and slowing population
growth which, with a given economic growth rate means rising living
standards. It will be through the steady efforts of millions of South
Africans that economic growth and democracy will be slowly realised. In
many areas it will be despite, rather than because of, the policies of
the dominant party.