Thinkers at home and abroad are lamenting the decline of SA’s democratic project. A stirring article by Raymond Suttner writes of “prevailing lawlessness” in which flourishes “a countervailing set of norms”. In withering criticism, CNN analyst Fareed Zakaria speaks about “a rising degree of illiberalism” in our country (and India), despite a promising start. In short, democratic norms have been upended.
As I watched the muscular engagement of the parliamentary bouncers and the EFF red berets for the umpteenth time, it struck me that what was really unravelling before our eyes was the tragic demise of a democratic institution. The fisticuffs are childish and thuggish. The real damage is the steady erosion of institutional rules, mores, values and procedures on which a new and fragile democracy depends. When parliament is rubbished as an institution, a pillar of democratic accountability crumbles. Our children might well grow up without an elevated sense of politics as duty or parliament as the representative voice of the people. We are in more trouble than we realise.
It is not only the EFF buffoons who are responsible. It is one president after the next who with a straight face tells us: “I did nothing wrong”, from the moral wreckage of Nkandla to the cringeworthy defence of Phala Phala. The symbolism of a fire pool and a couch, the common denominator a flagrant disrespect for the rules that order public conduct. The institution withers.
Even in its physical form, parliament has been dismantled by gross neglect, decades of institutional memory going up in flames. They just don’t give a damn. Collapsed roofs can be replaced, material damage repaired. Not so institutions; they are built over historical time, etched in human consciousness and functioning on the assumption that we all play by the rules. There is built-in sanction that applies to those who don’t. Except that we have long witnessed “the tyranny of the majority”, where simply by virtue of the numbers the ruling party has eroded confidence in the institution to act on defaulters. Step aside has become a complex dance move, more like fat cats on a hot tin roof.
Mimicking British parliamentary behaviour, sometimes embarrassingly so, our hysterically vocal opposition misses a crucial insight from mother country. There, there is real order and accountability. Imagine the speaker of our parliament saying something like this to the head of state: “I will not be challenged. You may be the prime minister of this country, but in this house I’m in charge. End of that.” There, parties often split on principle, as in a decision to sanction the prime minister because of a higher sense of duty to the institutional rules (such as lockdown regulations) that govern a democracy. In such contexts ministers are known to resign on principle, as a matter of conscience, or are forced out.
We are down on our knees when it comes to the survival of parliament as an expression of our democratic values. Going through the motions does not give an institution its vital meaning in the eyes of a weary public. “Point of order” has become a running joke in communities from Tyger Valley to Thohoyandou. Thuli Madonsela is correct — those using it have no idea what it means except as a blunt political instrument to derail parliamentary processes. “Honourable member” is now used in classrooms to teach with instant clarity the meaning of the word oxymoron.
I believe SA has reached the point where we need to dissolve this fractious parliament and rethink the rules of engagement. The speaker is little more than a party hack. The members lack a rudimentary grasp of parliamentary procedure. The use of bouncers to eject unruly members is doing incalculable harm to the institution; it cannot become the new norm for managing disputes. The institutional dangers of this type of behaviour need to be drummed into every political head. There must be clear and uncompromising rules for accountability. Only then can we resume (or presume) to do the people’s business.
Parliament could become one of our most powerful tools for teaching the habits of democracy to a next generation of South Africans. It could model debating skills focused on contesting ideas rather than humiliating opponents. It could introduce young people to the finer points of parliamentary procedure. It could illustrate how laws are made in a democracy. In other words, parliament could become a real live curriculum which teaches pupils and citizens how to behave, how to argue and how to be accountable to the broader public.
Some might argue that we have passed the point of no return. That a dysfunctional parliament is merely a reflection of a dysfunctional state. I disagree. A functional parliament offers a visible, televised platform from which we can restore those vital norms on which our democracy can be built. But for this to happen, we need to reset.