A tsunami. That’s how former Cosatu general-secretary Zwelinzima described Jacob Zuma’s rise to the top leadership of the ANC and, eventually, to that of government and the state.
Many years later, long after Zuma had been kicked out of government and subsequently expelled from the ANC, we are still discovering the extent of destruction this tsunami left behind.
This weekend Cosatu — the trade union federation Vavi led as general-secretary for almost 15-years — celebrated its 40th anniversary.
The once giant trade union movement, whose political influence extended so wide and deep that there was a time when no major decision could be taken without its voice being heard, celebrates this milestone as a shadow of itself.
Generous estimates put the federation’s membership figure at around 1.6-million — a huge climbdown from the close to 3-million membership the trade union movement used to brag about in its heydays.
Most of the current members are drawn from the public sector as Cosatu’s original base — the industrial unions — have either collapsed or have shred members due to job losses, de-industrialisation and the economy’s growing reliance on the services and informal sectors which tend to create short-term and insecure jobs.
As if this is not enough as a crisis for Cosatu, the country’s labour movement has been going through a period of sustained and rapid fragmentation with many of the sectors Cosatu unions used to dominate now seeing the birth of independent unions and splinter federations.
Vavi himself, the man who more than most became the face of Cosatu for much of the post-1994 era, finds himself now leading a rival SA Federation of Trade Unions (Saftu).
Much of this fragmentation can be directly traced back to the Zuma tsunami Vavi spoke about.
To jog the memories of those who may have forgotten, Cosatu and its affiliates played an active and a leading role in Zuma’s rise to power.
So much so that, once victory was obtained, a number of the federation’s leaders ended up holding influential positions in the ANC National Executive Committee, the national cabinet as well as in various provincial administrations.
But when Vavi and others in Cosatu tried to use this influence to infuse a more “radical” shift in the Zuma government policies, Zuma and his associates reacted by sowing divisions within the federation — eventually causing the expulsion of Numsa and half a dozen other affiliates.
Cosatu was gutted, the labour movement as a whole became fragmented and weak to a point where it has now largely become irrelevant outside of the public sector.
The tsunami had struck and, as Cosatu members gathered in Soweto this weekend for the 40th anniversary, none of their leaders can guarantee them that federation would be around for another decade — not to mention another 40 years.
It is not only organised labour, however, that continues to suffer the devastating consequences of the tsunami.
We see the results everywhere — in the quality of political leadership and technocrats running the national administration, provinces and municipalities.
While it would be ahistorical to claim that the pre-tsunami era wasn’t fraught with its own set of problems, we cannot pretend as if the situation has not now deteriorated to crisis levels.
One of the areas that were hardest hit was the country’s justice, crime prevention and security cluster and it is no surprise that it is in the news for all the wrong reasons these days.
We saw the country’s intelligence services go through turmoil as their leadership was chopped and changed depending on the head of state’s whims.
The end result? A weakened state security community that could not even be relied upon to do basic vetting and security clearance timeously for people being appointed in sensitive civil service positions.
Systems that were built to serve as high walls to prevent the possible infiltration of the police and other state agencies by people with criminal intents were demolished.
Hence most of us today find ourselves asking, as we watch the jaw-dropping testimonies being given at the Madlanga Commission as well as the parliamentary ad-hoc committee, how did we end up here?
The answer is staring us in the face. State institutions, especially in the security services, were hollowed out of talent and dedicated staff — leaving them weak and in the hands of individuals with nefarious intentions.
It should not surprise us, therefore, that in a metropolitan municipality like Ekurhuleni, a senior cop had no problem helping a private security company, run by someone with a criminal record and numerous other brushes with the law, access the use of blue lights which, by law, are reserved for the police.
Nor should we be surprised by the audacity of a convicted felon to try and capture the office of the country’s police minister through paying cash to one of the minister’s alleged associates in the hope that this would result in him being shielded from prosecutions.
All of this is possible mostly because the tsunami destroyed much of the institutions that were supposed to protect us.
The question is: Where do we begin to rebuild?
The Herald