Staff Photographer
The same party may have won the election, but there has been a change in government. We have moved not from a “Thabo Mbeki government” to a “Jacob Zuma government”, but to an “ANC alliance government”. Only nine of the 28 Cabinet ministers appointed by Mbeki in April 2004 have survived — a massive turnover.
Addressing a delegation of visiting ministers from the Netherlands last week I was searching for a convenient analogy when I stumbled upon the idea of a “coalition” government — something with which the Dutch have become increasingly familiar. In contrast to the political homogeneity of Mbeki’s Cabinet, Zuma’s Cabinet is the epitome of political heterogeneity — at least in terms of the broad church of the ANC’s contemporary ideological span.
There is something there for everyone. In the United Kingdom it would be spun as a Cabinet of “all the talents”. But it is clear that there has been some serious horse-trading, along these lines: “Well, if Trevor [Manuel] is going to be minister of the national planning commission (NPC) then we want Ebrahim Patel as minister for economic development.”
Whereas Mbeki’s was with exceptions a roomful of obedient grade four school girls and boys, Zuma’s will be an unruly gaggle of adolescent grade tens. It will be a lot more fun and a lot more tricky to manage.
And so if the new president had wanted to provide himself, and all of us, with a suitably demanding test of his much-vaunted reconciliatory skills, the Cabinet that has been bequeathed to him by the complex process of negotiations betwixt the ANC’s leadership, its alliance partners and the transition team that so fervently pursued their task, provides such a test.
Consider the new arrangements for the governance of the economy. Whereas for the past 13 years Manuel has with the political cover provided by Mbeki enjoyed almost untrammelled control, now it is shared in portions as yet unquantified between the new minister of finance, Pravin Gordhan, Patel and the newly promoted Rob Davies at trade and industry — with Manuel lurking stage right.
This quartet represents the most intriguing aspect of the new administration. All four are sharp and determined men. There is enough evidence to suggest that they will forge a viable set of relationships. Yet, two broad scenarios present themselves. In the first the vision of the structural innovation is achieved: macro and micro policy are aligned as never before, reversing the false, mechanical distinction that has existed over the past decade; fiscal and monetary policy, similarly; and, thus, the macro stability that South Africa has enjoyed under Manuel’s guidance is leveraged to induce micro-growth — a shift from a “finance-driven economy to the real economy”, to use the phrase of one of the architects of the new structure.
But policy-based portfolios, such as the new economic development ministry, face an uphill battle. With neither budget nor line functions, they have to rely heavily on the soft power of persuasion. Hence, to succeed Patel will have to use not just his deep knowledge of key international policy debates, but his talents as a negotiator.
If he does he will bring his own keen sense of the real economy, and the impact of policy choices on the poor, to bear on the government as a whole. The president will be forever in his debt – as will we all.
In this scenario Manuel plays his role adeptly, quietly supporting the triumvirate below, while aligning their efforts to the cross-cutting, multisector strategies of government. He emerges as a de facto prime minister, primed for a run at the succession.
Alternatively, in the second scenario, the innovation is too complex; there is duplication and bickering; and harmful mixed-signalling from the three different ministries. Manuel is unable to stick to his role as genuine long-term planner — on the “Asian Tiger” Malaysian and Indian model — and his influence looms large, but unrequited, to the point where, deeply frustrated, he resigns, prompting further instability.
Governments around the world are perpetually searching for better, more effective ways to coordinate the making and implementation of policy. Mbeki’s model was to build capacity in the presidency, with a team known as the Policy Coordination and Advisory Service (PCAS), headed by Joel Netshitenzhe.
It never quite lived up to its promise, probably because despite its presidential provenance, it did not have the political clout to kick ass across the bureaucracies.
The ministers and especially the super-mandarins — the directors-general that head the government departments — did not take kindly to being told what to think and do. Presumably, PCAS will now be broken down and its functions divided between the two ministers in the presidency — Manuel and Collins Chabane — and much will depend on the final, detailed architecture of the Cabinet committees and clusters.
When it comes to solving difficult policy problems, there is a deeply ingrained tendency within the left to provide bureaucratic, structural solutions. The re-engineering of the Cabinet smacks of this. Moreover, it now contains an absurdly large number of ministers — six new portfolios having been added. In due course, the simple question will be: is the whole greater than the sum of its parts?