When reports of the ANC’s powerful
Deployment Committee (DC) charged with handling all party appointments
filtered out in December last year, opposition parties warned that this
could be the beginning of authoritarian, even Stalinist-style
government. The contents of the ANC discussion document on deployment
policy will do nothing to assuage these fears.
The document, Cadre Policy and Deployment Strategy, makes
clear that this centralisation of power is only the beginning. Indeed
the sheer ambition of its goals are so startling that it raises serious
questions about the ANC’s understanding of democracy.
The DC, appointed by the party’s national working committee on
November 30 with Jacob Zuma in the chair, was initially charged with
compiling a national list of candidates for the 1999 election and
countering “ferocious” leadership battles and jockeying for position.
Other goals included strengthening ANC control over parastatals and
NGOs. As ANC spokesman, Thabo Masebe commented then: “The time for
self-deployment is over. Every deployment will now go through the
committee, be it in national, provincial or local government.”
The first high-profile casualties were provincial premiers, Mathole
Motshega in Gauteng, and Mathews Phosa in Mpumalanga. Both had fallen
heavily from grace with the national leadership and soon found
themselves “redeployed” by the DC to political obscurity despite their
grassroots support. Premiers are now handpicked by the president and
they can only make cabinet appointments after extensive consultation
with national and provincial leaders.
According to Cadre Policy and Deployment Strategy the policy
sets out to “win hegemony” for the ANC. This means that it not only
needs “correct policies” but “correct people” in all “key centres of
power”. These centres are multiple, for the aim is to “strengthen
political and administrative control” over the national and provincial
legislatures, metropolitan councils (especially their executives) and
the civil service. In addition, it exhorts “we must strengthen our
leadership of all parastatals and statutory bodies” and “in all other
sectors of social activity, including the economy, education, science
and technology, sports, recreation, arts and culture, mass popular
organisations and mass communication”.
The ANC will carry out an audit of all positions in such power
centres, prioritise them and identify areas where the ANC is not
already dominant, says the document. ANC cadres deployed to them will
have the duty of forcing through a transformation agenda in every
institution — and of reporting back to the party on what is going on in
their institution.
Also singled out for ANC control are safety and security (ie the
police) and the “international arena” which appears to mean not only
ANC control over the diplomatic and consular service but also over
foreign scholarship programmes and the like (“making use of our
international relations to encourage placements and further
professional development of cadres”). Particular emphasis is laid on
“the mobilisation of youth and students so that they embrace our
perspective of transformation and therefore form part of the pool of
qualified cadres”. This helps one to understand the concern about
appointing “correct” vice-chancellors at universities: these are to
become the forcing houses of what Gramsci called “organic
intellectuals” capable of dictating and enforcing the ANC’s hegemony
over the new society.
All this sounds like a new Broederbond, except the aim is more
ambitious, indeed more totalitarian than that. The Broederbond, a
minority within a minority, accepted that its writ did not run in white
English-speaking institutions such as the English-medium universities,
press, churches or private schools, quite a few sports, cultural and
scientific institutions, or a whole range of other voluntary
organisations. In addition, although it was careful to maintain control
over “bantu administration” and the black universities, the Broederbond
had no ambition to penetrate the cultural or associational worlds of
groups other than white Afrikaners. But it would seem that nothing is
off limits to the ANC. It wants control over education, sport,
recreation, science, and technology in general — no university or
sporting body or scientific association will be beyond its remit.
Similarly, its control over “mass organisations” will presumably apply
to NGOs, ratepayers’ bodies, welfare bodies such as the Red Cross,
legal and business associations and perhaps churches too; nothing, at
least, is ruled out.
At the same time the Public Service Amendment Act published in April
gives the president rather than the minister concerned power over all
career matters affecting directors-general in national government —
including their appointment, discharge and transfer. At provincial
level this function has been taken away from MECs and given to the
premier, presumably with help from the DC.
What is envisaged is an exact replica of the Soviet nomenklatura, a
fact that has led some to suspect that Joel Netshitenzhe, a graduate of
Moscow’s Lenin school for party cadres, is the likely drafter of the
document. By careful manipulation of his role in the OrgBuro and the
party secretariat, Stalin was able to place his handpicked cadres in
every area of Soviet life. This provided him not only with his power
base of loyal apparatchiks but guaranteeing the organisational
totalitarianism and ideological uniformity that were the essence of
Stalinism.
Quite clearly, the ANC’s new policy derives from sources so steeped in
that tradition that they do not even realise how profoundly
undemocratic the rest of the world has long ago decided such
arrangements are. Not only is the notion of a non-partisan civil
service, basic not only to the Westminster system but to any democratic
republic, casually dispensed with here, but individual rights in
general receive scant respect. Thus the document regrets the past
period in which “there was no comprehensive and co-ordinated plan to
deploy cadres to other critical centres. This has led to a situation
where individuals deploy themselves, thus undermining the collective
mandate.”
Note the almost military discipline: individuals should not “deploy
themselves”. Instead there must be “a system of supervision and
decision-direction . . . put in place to ensure that our army of cadres
discharges their responsibilities in accordance with decisions which
the movement has made”. The document looks back to the ANC’s 1985 cadre
policy: “a revolutionary must be ready to serve in any capacity”;
cadres must receive “ideological, moral, academic, military and
cultural education”; and “the political performance of cadres and a
thorough knowledge of everyone’s work ability and personal life should
guide placement and promotions”. It was normal at that time for “our
cadreship” to seek the movement’s permission as to whom they might
marry — or divorce.
There is, too, a direct threat to the autonomy and integrity of the
institutions to which cadres are deployed. What happens when a job in
the civil service, a parastatal, a statutory body, the media or the
police gets advertised? How is deployment to work then? Will there be a
secret nod to the selection committee? Or will some individuals be
forced to withdraw? Will the official ANC nominee be publicly or only
privately known? Will merit play any part at all? Although the document
says that “we should have respect for the internal processes of the
structures and institutions we are part of”, the requirement that
cadres report back to the ANC on the internal workings of these
institutions is alarming — not only for the obvious breaches of
confidentiality and loyalty this must lead to, but for the image of the
political surveillance that it evokes.
The document considers the possibility that the ANC might restrict
itself, like a normal political party, merely to choosing its election
candidates (though even then a process of consultation with “the
comrades” is assumed to be necessary before anyone takes a job), but
this “laissez faire” attitude is brutally dismissed. To argue for this
“would be tantamount to adopting a triumphalist position that we
achieved all the goals of the National Democratic Revolution in 1994.”
(Note here the reappearance of the NDR, of which we heard nothing
during the election.)
Several other points warrant attention. First, which party are we
talking about? The national Deployment Committee includes Jacob Zuma,
Nkosazana Zuma and Zola Skweiyiya (all SACP members originally,
whatever their status now) plus Sam Shilowa (SACP), Blade Nzimande
(SACP secretary general) and Thenjiwe Mthintoso (SACP), leaving only
two members (Max Sisulu and Mendi Msimang, the ANC Treasurer-General)
whose SACP connections are unknown.
Jacob Zuma says he “never asks who is a member of the SACP. The only
thing I know is that they’re all members of the ANC,” but this is
disingenuous. Comrade Zuma will be perfectly aware of who is Party and
who is not. Doubtless, the committee exists to do Mbeki’s will,
extending central control not only over provincial premiers and top
civil servants but over a huge array of posts beyond. But it looks as
if the SACP has been cut in with a predominant say in the distribution
of patronage — which is what the DC is all about. Mbeki is not a man to
be unconscious of the significance of that and one can only conclude
that either he wishes to strengthen the SACP or that he is offering the
Party the rewards of patronage in order to seduce it into agreeing to
the abandonment of its policies. Time alone will tell.
Jacob Zuma pooh-poohs such fears. “People always try to find something
sinister. Actually the committee is just a helping hand. Cadres can
come to us for help if they need jobs. Otherwise they can just decide
for themselves”, he says. “We would never undermine provincial
structures — indeed, we often refer people back to their provincial
deployment committees. And of course we can’t deploy people to the
private sector. Mac Maharaj and Joe Modise found their commercial jobs
for themselves. Of course, the private sector could ask the committee
to find an ANC cadre for them but that would have to be their
initiative.” Jacob Zuma confirmed, on the other hand, that ex-ministers
such as Sibusiso Bengu and Alfred Nzo, were being deployed by the
committee.
And did we not hear that Cyril Ramaphosa had been “deployed” to the
private sector? Since everyone, by definition, lives in a province, how
can provincial autonomy be truly respected? And what about the
inevitable political jobbery over tenders, contracts, permits, licences
and subordinate appointments that is bound to be part of such a system?
Above all the idea of a political party acting as an all-encompassing
personnel agency means a politicisation and central control of
institutions, appointments and individuals that is incompatible with a
pluralist democracy.
Pervading the document is a feeling that, if at all possible, everyone
ought to belong to or agree with the ANC and a basic discomfort with
the thought that some people may frankly disagree. The whole style is
antipathetic to individual rights: youth and students whom the ANC
wishes to recruit, for example, are not to be individually persuaded of
the beneficence of ANC policies. Rather they must be “mobilised” to
“embrace our perspectives of transformation”. We hear how cadres must
everywhere become “organisers who must ensure that the policies and
programmes of transformation are carried out” even where “there are
people who don’t share our vision”.
The one hopeful sign in the whole document is the admission that
redeployment is not too popular with the rank-and-file, being “often
met with resistance and seen as a demotion or punishment”. The document
is intended to clarify the policy for the recalcitrant for, like other
“discussion” papers emanating from the ANC national working party, its
contents are not really up for discussion at all: it concludes by
baldly announcing what policy already is.
The document draws up a hierarchy of those to be deployed, starting
with “experienced and loyal cadres” and ending, at the bottom of the
food chain, with “fellow nationals who may be apolitical but who are
democratically-minded”. By definition such fellow nationals are likely
to find “experienced and loyal cadres” preferred over them in
undemocratic fashion while fellow nationals who are not, in the ANC’s
view “democratically minded” are clearly fit only for the outer
darkness.