Pan Macmillan

Eight Days in September

© Frank Chikane 2012

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CHAPTER 1

After Midnight

The Removal of Mbeki

It was after midnight of Friday, 19 September 2008 – to be precise, just before 1.00 a.m. on Saturday – when the first text messages began to come through: ‘the NEC has decided to recall Mbeki as president of the country’. Another said that ANC officials had been appointed to visit Mbeki immediately, that night, to inform him of the NEC decision.

Other text messages kept coming from NEC members in Esselen Park celebrating that they had won and that Mbeki was to be removed or else expressing concern over the consequences of the NEC decision. Some text messages came from journalists who wanted more information and responses.Yet others came from concerned ANC members who were not at Esselen Park and some came from concerned South Africans.

If you monitored cyberspace during those early hours of that fateful day you could have written a prize-winning drama. This cyberspace record would have given us the totality of what happened and the feelings of those involved.

Earlier on that critical Friday, reports emanated from the meeting telling of tough debates, lasting into the early hours of Saturday morning. The voices of reason which pleaded that Mbeki be allowed to complete his term, perhaps bringing the election date forward, were drowned out by the angry voices of the night.

Even the proposal that he should be allowed a month or so to complete some of his critical commitments of state was shot down. Among these commitments was a United Nations (UN) meeting the following week to consider the Millennium Development Goals. Another was the African Diaspora Conference, scheduled for 7–10 October 2008, which would bring together African leaders on the continent and those in the Diaspora, in line with an African Union (AU) resolution. The Permanent Representatives Committee (PRC) of the AU meeting scheduled for 24 September 2008 to prepare for the Africa Diaspora Conference was also postponed.

In the end, the ngoko (‘now!’) chorus won the day.

Calls also began to come through from Mbeki’s advisers asking what they should do. Advocate Mojanku Gumbi, the president’s legal adviser, was among the first to call and we discussed what the presidency needed to do. Her second call concerned a message from the staff at Mahlamba Ndlopfu, saying that they had been asked to wake the president as a delegation from the ANC was coming to inform him about the NEC decision.

Presumably the thinking was – as a matter of courtesy – that he should learn about the decision from the party, not from the media or third parties, but we believed he should not be woken. Advocate Gumbi and I would be at Mahlamba Ndlopfu early in the morning to inform him about the impending visit. We instructed the staff accordingly and made arrangements with the ANC to send their delegation at about 9.00 a.m., by which time we thought the president would be ready to start his day.

Advocate Gumbi and I agreed that she (together with the legal unit in the presidency) would review all the legal issues related to the decision and advise how the government would handle the matter – a procedure dependent on the nature of the decision, which we would only hear officially from the delegation later that morning.

At the forefront of our thinking was how to preserve Mbeki’s legacy, particularly his African Renaissance vision and programme, his extensive attempts to end conflicts on the African continent and create the peace necessary for its development, and his leadership in the development of the New Partnership for Africa’s Development (NEPAD) and the African Peer Review Mechanism (APRM). There was also the AU project of bringing together African leaders on the continent and those in the diaspora, a project close to Mbeki’s heart. Nothing should be done to affect negatively this legacy, which no one could take away from Mbeki.

The next conversation, covering much the same ground, was with Trevor Fowler, the chief operations officer and accounting officer in the presidency, who was my second-in-command. Fowler, who had been a member of parliament and a speaker of the Gauteng Provincial Legislature for a number of years, focused on what needed to be done in relation to the executive and parliament. We agreed on several possible ways of handling the situation, which we would discuss with the president when we met him.

At about 3.30 a.m. we completed our preparations for the events that would unfold later in the day. I was due to conduct a wedding at 10.00 a.m. at my church in Naledi, Soweto, and had planned to leave Soweto at 6.00 a.m. in order to reach Mahlamba Ndlopfu at 7.00 a.m. I estimated that the mission to Pretoria would cost me four hours, which I had to make up for. Instead of retiring to bed, I went to the study to prepare for the wedding.

It was difficult to close the window on the crisis and open a new window on the wedding, but this was not the first time I had faced such a challenge in the presidency.

Emergencies arise at times when one needs to focus on a sermon or service, but as I could not be released from my calling as a pastor, I continued to serve the church irrespective of the challenges. At such times the spiritual adrenalin takes over with a special inspiration to be an even greater blessing to the church than I would have been in normal circumstances. Fortunately, I had prepared the sermon in advance and only had to clean it up. I then focused on the liturgy and order of proceedings. I also ensured that all the participants were aware of the new pressures I was subjected to. Fortunately, again, the congregation had handled emergencies like this before and simply engaged their emergency gear.

I left home at 6.00 a.m. and the first sign that something had happened during the night was newspaper headlines on the streets of Johannesburg and Pretoria: ‘Mbeki recalled’ … ‘Mbeki removed’ … ‘Shocking decision by the ANC’ … and so on. This reopened the Mbeki file in my head. The questions in my mind were: ‘How is the president likely to respond? How do we assist him as his support staff and advisers to manage this crisis? How did we come to this point? How did the ANC, as the ruling party, find itself in this situation? What were the mistakes made within the ANC? What mistakes could Mbeki have made both as president of the ANC and as president of the country? Could the situation have been managed differently?’

It was obvious that I could not answer all these questions at that moment and alone. We would require an extensive evaluation workshop to reflect on this period. Unfortunately, events of this nature do not allow for the luxury of time for reflection, as this could be construed as conspiratorial.

As I was driven along the M1 North towards Pretoria I could not stop thinking about the implications of the decision. The reality is that every event in the life of a nation or country defines what that country or its people become. Post-colonial countries where coups are part of the culture have learned that once such events are set in motion they are difficult to stop. Fortunately, no such culture has developed in either the old or the new South Africa.

But a new, worrying culture has been introduced that might come to haunt us – the culture of ruling parties recalling or removing their own presidents, purely because of intra-party dynamics rather than their performance in government. As a member of the ANC, I wondered whether this was the precedent my organisation wanted to establish. But it did and indeed it will haunt us into the future unless there is a radical change in the way the organisation conducts itself.

With regard to Mbeki, his history and the fact that he had lived his whole life for the ANC and had no life outside the party, this action felt like ‘feeding on your own’ or ending his life. What would he be without or outside the ANC? What would become of his life outside the ANC? What would South Africa be like after his removal? What would happen to the ANC? As my brain went into overdrive on these matters, I could not but conclude that South Africa would never be the same again … and neither would the ANC.

We arrived at the gates of Mahlamba Ndlopfu at exactly 7.00 a.m. thanks to the efforts of the VIP Protection Unit, which had moved me physically from Soweto to Pretoria while my brain remained in another world.

The household staff received us at the house, where, as one would expect, the mood was sombre. Concern and uncertainty were written on the faces of all those who met us but they were unable to express their fears, trained as they were to serve the president irrespective of who it was rather than engage in the political processes which affect the party or government. They were civil servants and served the president or government of the day.

Advocate Gumbi, with whom I had been in contact en route to Pretoria, followed hot on my heels. The last to arrive was Trevor Fowler. Told that the president was still resting, we suggested he be left for a while. We were ushered into the historical lounge where we had spent many hours with the president over the years, discussing government and developing strategies to manage it as effectively as we could, as well as strategising about the continent and the world. As we sat there, we knew that this meeting with Mbeki might be our last with him as the country’s president.

We used the opportunity to exchange notes and reflect on how we would handle the situation. As usual, Advocate Gumbi was ready with the legal complexities. As a good lawyer she always made our lives more difficult. Nothing is obvious and few things are the way they look like and the way we might want them to be. She mapped out the challenges, uncertainties and dangers of the legal route to dealing with the crisis. The risk of the country sliding from a constitutional state to one with no respect for its own Constitution and laws was staring at us.

Our deliberations were interrupted constantly by our cellphones, as one person after another voiced their shock at the decision. Some wept, some were disgusted and others wondered what had happened to their ANC. Still others were concerned about the effect of it all on Mbeki, the person. ‘Remember that he is a human being as well and must feel the pain of what had happened,’ said one caller. But we had passed that stage during the night and were more concerned now about managing the crisis in a way that would not cause pain to the people of South Africa, accepting that we could not at that stage do much about the decision of the ANC and the pain Mbeki was going to go through, except for the limited support we could give him.

The first person to make an appearance, at about 8.00 a.m., was the president’s wife, Zanele Mbeki, who was surprised that we were already in the house so early and surmised that we were there to talk about ntho tsa masiu (‘the night’s events’). We informed her that an ANC delegation was scheduled to arrive at 9.00 a.m. She was not surprised, just stared at us, shook her head and proceeded to go where she was going within the house.

Mbeki followed later. As usual he was cool and collected but was walking more slowly than usual. He took his normal seat and listened to us as we told him that ‘it had happened’. It was almost like saying sekunjalo (‘now is the time’) or sekwenzekile (‘it has happened’). As usual, one could not read his body language as he listened without emotion to the story of ntho tsa bosiu. The closest to an expression of emotions was when he repeated his belief that no true cadre of the movement (the ANC) could make a decision of that nature given the circumstances and issues involved. Not on the basis of such an obviously faulty judgement of Judge Chris Nicholson (discussed in detail in Chapter 7). For him this meant that something had gone radically wrong in the ANC and it was a cause for great concern. It was out of character and a manifestation of the first fruit of the Polokwane Project.

Mbeki repeated his view, expressed earlier in the week, that if his organisation asked him to leave office he would comply, since he saw his role as that of ‘service to the people’ rather than ‘a position’ that he needed ‘to fight for’. He had not fought for positions in the ANC before and he was not about to do so now. He re-emphasised his commitment to ensuring that the country was not destabilised by his problems with the ANC. No one should pay a price for the negative politics of the party. He was ready to meet the ANC delegation at any time. At this stage he looked like a soldier who was ready to die, if he had to, for the sake of the country; a lamb to be slaughtered for a cause.

In the hour that remained before the arrival of the delegation, the four of us passed the time discussing the changes in the movement to which Mbeki had devoted his life. He could not accept, just as he had been unable to accept at Polokwane, that there had been enormous changes in the ANC since it had assumed power as a ruling party. He still believed no genuine cadre could behave as the delegates at Polokwane had behaved or could take a decision like the one that had been taken in the early hours of that day. He believed such behaviour disqualified those responsible from remaining cadres of the ANC.

At about the time the ANC delegation was due to arrive, I had to return to Soweto to be on time for the wedding ceremony. In any case, I was not needed for that meeting as the director-general and secretary of the cabinet as this was a purely party matter. Once more the VIP Protection Unit swept me off to my destination while I ran through my sermon. The wedding went well and as usual the Lord took over and it was a great blessing to many. As a disciplined pastor I kept the politics of ntho tsa bosiu outside the wedding, although one could not miss the bewilderment of many in the audience. Some of the leaders expressed concern, when they got a chance after the service, but there was no time to discuss this matter and as a result they just prayed and left this with the Lord.

After it was over, I returned to Mahlamba Ndlopfu, informed en route that the president had met the ANC delegation consisting of comrades Kgalema Motlanthe (deputy president of the ANC) and Gwede Mantashe (the ANC secretary-general). They informed him that the party had decided to ‘recall’ him as president, and in response the president told them that he would leave as soon as his party wished him to.

It was interesting for me that the party used the concept of a ‘recall’. There were problems, though, about this concept in relation to a sitting president, since the president is elected by parliament and not the party. The concept of a ‘recall’ makes sense within the context of the ‘deployment’ policy of the ANC but could not be applied directly to a president who is elected by parliament. The language of ‘recall’ is usually used by presidents to ‘recall’ an ambassador who is appointed by the president, but could not legally be used to remove the president from office. Only parliament could remove the president, in terms of s 89 and s 102 of the Constitution. Though the concept of a ‘recall’ was an innovative one to try to remain within the law, it did not pass the test, and it left many questions in the minds of many South Africans.

Constitutionally, the president could have ignored the ‘recall’, to force the party to use the constitutional mechanisms to remove him from office, if they could achieve the voting threshold required, which was unlikely at the time. All other options would have been illegal or unconstitutional and would not only have risked destabilising the country but would have led to destabilisation. To avoid this risk, he chose to leave voluntarily. He did not want to give anyone an opportunity or be the reason for anyone to act unconstitutionally.

The president had, though, asked the ANC delegation two questions. The first concerned a constitutional way of leaving office without leaving a vacuum, as the Constitution did not provide for the resignation of the president in the way it was contemplated. The second concerned the immediate responsibilities of the president, which had to be carried out while they were mulling over these matters. The delegation promised to come back to him later that day.

On my return I found the president’s official residence full of comrades and some family members who had come either to express their support for Mbeki or just to sympathise with him. Some wept in disbelief at what had happened and others pondered why he could not be allowed to finish his term of office, as he was left with only seven months. Greeting them was as much of a challenge as doing so in a bereaved family.

Gumbi, Fowler and I retreated to the lounge again to continue with our strategic discussions and planning, joined by the president’s political adviser, Titus Mafolo, and his spokesperson, Mukoni Ratshitanga, both of whom had arrived while I was away. We returned to the subject of preparations for the announcement, meticulously putting into place procedures for dealing with the crisis. We had to banish our emotions and engage our rational sense to execute our responsibilities in a highly charged and emotive environment.

The plan unfolded as follows: firstly, once the delegation of the ANC had answered the two questions, details of how we would manage the process of the departure of the president would be formalised. Secondly, and whatever the responses of the party to the questions the president had asked, the president would meet his cabinet to inform them of his decision to resign in response to the ‘recall’ decision by the ANC. The cabinet secretariat was commanded to set the meeting up for 4 p.m. the following day, the Sunday afternoon, when it was expected that the NEC would have concluded its meeting, given that most members of the cabinet were also members of the NEC.

Thirdly, the president would inform the country about his decision. We agreed that this should be done on the Sunday evening, after the cabinet briefing. The timing for the announcement was precipitated by the demand expressed later from Esselen Park, where the NEC of the ANC was meeting, that Mbeki deliver his letter of resignation before 7.00 p.m. on Sunday. In this regard, Ratshitanga was mandated to interact with the South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC) to make the necessary arrangements. The preferred time was 7.00 p.m.

Fourthly, to ensure stability in the country, Mbeki would meet the command structures of the security forces (the South African National Defence Force [SANDF], the South African Police Services [SAPS] and the intelligence service), brief them about his decision to resign and impress upon them their professional responsibility and the imperative to ensure that there was stability, safety and security in the country. Not only did the president need to do this, he must also be seen by the nation to have done so, in order to assure the people that everything was under control and that there was no risk of instability.

The secretariat of the National Security Council (NSC) was instructed to arrange these meetings one after another on the Monday morning. This was the responsibility of Loyiso Jafta, head of the NSC secretariat, who had also joined the meeting at that time. He began to do so accordingly. An announcement would be made once the meetings were arranged, to ensure that there was no anxiety amongst the command structures of the security forces. Ratshitanga would take care of the media side in this regard.

Finally it was agreed that the presidency would interact with parliament to determine the best way to handle the resignation, including the way in which he would bid farewell to parliament. This discussion, which would have to take place with the speaker of the National Assembly and the chairperson of the National Council of Provinces (NCP), could only take place on the Monday. Trevor Fowler was delegated to organise and manage it.

On the international front, the minister of foreign affairs, Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, was already in New York to participate in UN annual meetings, including preparations for the president, who was due to follow. She had to deal with the immediate programmes of the president that were likely to be affected by the decision on recall, starting with the UN meetings scheduled for Monday morning.

In the midst of these discussions, a message came from the ANC NEC meeting in Esselen Park to say that the president could not continue with any of his responsibilities, particularly his international commitments. This was disturbing, to say the least, in view of the fact that he was due to be the keynote speaker at the UN Summit on Africa on the following Monday. The party determining what the president could do and not do while he was in office was a clear violation of the Constitution, including the oath of office of the president. This decision turned a party ‘recall’ of the president of the country, which in itself was problematic and a challenge constitutionally, to an act of stopping the president from executing his responsibilities.

This act brought us close to the definition of a coup d’état. The act of stopping the president from exercising his constitutional responsibilities and mandate was tantamount to ‘an illegal change of government’ – in this case, the president. As long as a president is in office, no one can stop him or her from executing his constitutional responsibilities and duties. Interestingly, there was no response (as far as I can recall) to the second question the president had put to the ANC delegation that the ANC advise about a constitutional way in which his ‘recall’ could be effected. For those of us who were outside the decision-making machinery at Esselen Park, it would seem that issues of constitutionality did not matter. What was urgent was the ‘removal’ of Mbeki ngoko, which meant that he had to be stopped immediately from continuing to act as president even before he resigned.

The president could have ignored this directive as well. But he didn’t. He took this instruction, too, in his stride, saying he would do nothing that might suggest that he wanted to remain in office against the wishes of his party. However, he had a responsibility to ensure that the transition was as smooth as possible and on this matter he was not going to relent. Stability, stability, stability – this was the priority for all who were involved in the decision-making process within government in relation to the ‘recall’ of the president.

Fortunately, and in the midst of all the madness, the ANC leadership also took the same view. In its statement, released on that Saturday, the NEC said:

our most important task as a revolutionary movement is the stability of our country … We will follow with precision all the constitutional requirements to ensure that interim arrangements are in place to ensure the smooth running of the government … we share the desire (together with the citizens of South Africa) for stability and for a peaceful and prosperous South Africa [my emphasis].

This statement by the ANC was reassuring indeed and made our efforts to manage the transition much easier. There would be no differences within the ANC on this matter irrespective of the mood of some, which was described as ‘foul’ and bordering on irrationality.

Notwithstanding this statement, and the particularly reassuring part which stated clearly that the ANC ‘will follow with precision all the constitutional requirements’, the leadership still made the decision to stop Mbeki from carrying out some of his immediate responsibilities. This was disturbing indeed. It contradicted what Mantashe had said on behalf of the NEC. Until Mbeki’s resignation took effect, he remained constitutionally bound to execute his duties. The president, however, dealt with this matter in a pragmatic way.

The decision meant that the UN had to be informed that he would not be attending the summit and a special apology conveyed to those African leaders who had already arrived in New York. This task was left to Dlamini-Zuma, who was in New York, along with other ministers, including Trevor Manuel, then minister of finance.

Another problem we faced was uncertainty about the implications for ministers and deputy ministers of the president’s resignation, for he had appointed them. Manuel had, in fact, left a letter of resignation with the presidency before travelling to the UN, in case all the ministers had to resign. Dlamini-Zuma inquired whether she was required to return but was advised to continue with her responsibilities until there was clarity about how parliament would respond to the resignation. Delegates to the UN summit and the president’s advance team thus continued with their responsibilities.

Mbeki’s absence was certainly felt in New York. As investigative journalist Joe Lauria put it in a report published in The Star on 23 September:

the shadow of Thabo Mbeki followed foreign minister Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma … as she sought to replace the experience and clout of a man who knew his way around world leaders at the annual UN General Assembly summit. There were reminders of Mbeki wherever she went on Monday.

At the round-table discussion on African development issues the Ghanaian President John Kufuor told the gathering (which included several heads of state) that

I take the chair at the invitation of the UN Secretary-General in the place of my colleague and friend, Thabo Mbeki of South Africa, who should have been here but for matters of state. We all know the role President Mbeki has been playing on the continent of Africa, and indeed on the international scene, during the past decade. He is one of the main architects of the African Union and a key initiator of … the New Partnership for African Development.

Kufuor’s statement was a powerful testament to Mbeki’s role on the continent and the international scene as he was removed from office by his own party. In line with Mbeki’s foreign policy perspectives, which were based on ANC policies, the missed opportunities occasioned by his absence were seen in terms of his work on the continent rather than only about South Africa as is clear from Lauria’s report. He continues to say, ‘Mbeki’s absence … was felt everywhere’, and his

missed meetings could spell missed opportunities for South Africa to achieve its two main goals at this General Assembly: getting aid and international support for post-agreement Zimbabwe, and blocking the Security Council’s endorsement of the International Criminal Court’s indictment of Sudan’s President Omar Bashir.

Messages came from Dlamini-Zuma to say that this was one of the most painful assignments she had had to undertake, especially having to explain the situation to African leaders who were terribly shocked by the news, feeling it was not possible that the ANC they had known and respected had taken such a decision. They could also not understand why the decision could not have been postponed until after the summit, since Mbeki was a critical part of the African project and the decision had severely disrupted the programme.

Some leaders felt the ANC should have taken them into its confidence and alerted them about the decision. They also felt strongly that the ANC should have understood that any decision about Mbeki’s attendance at the UN would affect them directly. There was a sense that, for some of these leaders, the ANC was their liberation movement as well. After all, in the years of the Frontline States, the Liberation Committee for Southern Africa, and the support the region gave to the liberation movements in the southern African region, the ANC could not take any major decisions without taking them into its confidence.

Clearly, this was not in the minds of those who were making decisions at Esselen Park. What preoccupied them was how to remove Mbeki from office rather than the international implications thereof. We learned that some comrades tried to bring this perspective into the debate but it was drowned out by the ngoko chorus.

Back at home, the atmosphere at Mahlamba Ndlopfu was like that of an African home where death has struck, with people coming and going, people wandering about, people weeping. The household staff, battling with their own emotions, had their hands full offering refreshments and food to large numbers of unexpected guests. Every sitting room or space was full of guests, with an overflow into the garden. Staff reinforcements had to be brought in from other official households to assist.

It was impossible for the president to attend to everyone who had come to express their solidarity, sympathy or frustration. He also could not take all the calls that were clogging the telephone lines, nor was he able to cope up with all the personal e-mails from friends and leaders who also expressed their sympathies and solidarity. The crisis went on into the depths of the Saturday night, turning the activity in the house into something like a night vigil.

As we went deep into the night I was becoming restless, as I had a sermon to deliver the following day, the Sunday. By then everything had been taken care of except for the president’s letter of resignation, which had to be drafted carefully in the light of the constitutional challenges involved. Advocate Gumbi agreed to think about the formulation of the letter from a legal perspective and discuss it with the president. The second consideration was the president’s speech to the nation scheduled for the Sunday evening. Titus Mafolo, who normally drafted or facilitated the drafting of Mbeki’s speeches, felt that this had to be done by the president himself as it was critical. This, of course, was agreed with by Mbeki, as such important texts he produced personally.

When I left Mahlamba Ndlopfu that night, we agreed that I would return after the Sunday morning service to look at the resignation letter together with Mojanku Gumbi and Trevor Fowler, and at the draft speech with Mafolo, Gumbi, Fowler and Ratshitanga.

The night trip from Mahlamba Ndlopfu to Soweto, the second in a day, was a time of reflection about the extraordinary events of the past 24 hours or so. I wanted to focus on the sermon but my mind kept on drifting from one event to another, from one issue to another, and the implications of it all. I had to do a forced shutdown to open the window on the sermon and service for the next day.

Sunday, 21 September 2008

During the Sunday service the national crisis was only referred to when the time came for prayers and intercession. Over the years my congregation has been extremely careful not to use the church for party political matters, conscious as we are that members probably belong to many different parties. Although the congregation was aware that I was not just a member of the ANC but that I had been a member of the NEC for ten years, at no stage did I use the church to promote sectarian party politics or factional interests within the party.

It is for this reason that I have problems with comrades who use funerals to promote not only a particular party, but a faction or individual within a party. People forget that at a funeral the mourners, particularly family members, do not all belong to the same party. One can speak about the party the deceased belonged to but cannot use a funeral to promote one party against another or one individual leader against another within the same party. It is worse when leaders use a funeral to attack other leaders or parties. An extraordinary level of sensitivity is required in this regard.

In my sermons I have always distinguished between party politics and the cause of justice. My involvement in the liberation struggle was about the struggle for justice and not about a particular political party. The liberation movement (the party) was the means to an end rather than an end in itself. I was involved in the struggle to save our people from the brutal violence of the apartheid system and its crude racial policies, which treated black people as less than human. This to me was a negation of the image of God in us. Justice and righteousness were the operative words. It is for this reason that I stated in the early 1990s that if blacks took over government and oppressed whites, I would go to prison again.

For many of us in the struggle it was not about the colour of the people, the party, a group or a faction. It was also not about narrow personal interests. The brutality of the system took away any narrow personal interests, since it dealt with us as a group and not as individuals. In any case, during those days, there was no patronage, tenders or deals as there is today. In all ways blacks were excluded from the system. The struggle was about the people – the people of God who were oppressed and exploited by an evil and brutal system.

Although concern was expressed for me and for the president on this particular Sunday, the congregation stuck to the tradition of focusing on the bigger picture of peace and stability for the country, and that is what they prayed for. They also prayed that God should give me, the president and the leadership of the ANC the wisdom to avoid actions that might destabilise the country and again cause pain to the people.

In their prayers of intercession one could not miss their deep concern that the people of South Africa had suffered enough under apartheid and during the war with the regime’s security forces. As a congregation they had witnessed and experienced the pain and suffering brought about by the apartheid regime and the struggle to remove it. At the backs of their minds were the experiences of their own pastor, as well as those of other congregants and their families.

No doubt many were recalling the experiences of members of the congregation such as Abbey and Kgotso Chikane, France and Prince Ranoto, David Matsose, Tulamo and Ramodikoe Thipe, all of whom had been harassed by the security forces until they were forced into exile, some because they had been involved in combat action as part of Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK). Prince Ranoto died in exile and Tulamo Thipe lost some of his fingers in combat. An older member of the congregation, Phineas Ranoto, was detained and subjected to extreme forms of torture, while his daughter, Rebecca, was subjected to electric shocks in the bushes next to Merafe Station in Soweto to force her to give information about her brothers. The younger brother, Abbey Ranoto, also later went into exile. On one day in early 1977 the homes of almost all the young people in the church were raided and they were questioned. Some were taken away while others were beaten up to try to force them to give information about their peers suspected of being involved in the armed struggle.

There are those who continued with the struggle at home, such as Mzwakhe Mbuli, Oupa Radebe, Gen Nhlapho, and many others. There are also the unsung heroes and heroines – families who were harassed and traumatised because of their children or because they were suspected of giving refuge to children the security forces were looking for. The list is endless. And this is just from one congregation in Soweto.

After making this journey into the past, the congregation returned to the present and their prayers of intercession expressed that the nation was not ready for more pain. They sang ‘Nkosi sikelel’ iAfrika’ and ‘Morena boloka sechaba sa rona’ with a prayerful spirit and prayed for God to intervene and grant them peace. Some cried to the Lord to have mercy on the people and the nation. As this is a classical Pentecostal congregation their cries were loud and reached the highest of heavens.

At this point I was reminded of one of our theological activists who visited Nicaragua during the reversals of the gains in the struggle there. He was deeply distressed and depressed, as he felt that the experience of the people of Nicaragua was like crucifying Jesus for the second time. I felt that people had died to liberate this country and we could not afford to die again because of the party’s internal conflicts.

In their prayers the congregation committed all the leaders involved to the Lord to help them to avoid disaster for the people. At the end of the service they released me and wished me God’s blessings, wisdom and guidance as I returned to the ‘operational area’ in Mahlamba Ndlopfu. Some of them could not hold back their tears as they bade me farewell.

On our way back to Mahlamba Ndlopfu I received a call conveying another disturbing message: ‘The ANC say that they want the president’s resignation letter today, not tomorrow!’ as we had agreed with the president. Our view had been that we needed to interact with parliament before we finalised the letter, to ensure that there was a smooth transition.

The ngoko (‘now’) message made me lose my cool and I said that this could not be. The party may have the right to ‘recall’ its member from government but cannot determine when the president should submit a letter of resignation. I felt that ba leka presidente joale (‘they were testing the president’s patience to the limit’) and that ba batla ho ribitella bohloko bo a leng ho bona (‘they were poking their fingers into the gaping wound’). The president had agreed to resign and there was no need to set an unreasonable deadline for the letter of resignation or indeed set a deadline at all. Once they started dictating when the letter should be delivered, we began to slide into sinking sand, as this would change the status of the recall of the president to that of a coup d’état. The first could be considered a legitimate move for a party; the latter is a clear breach of our Constitution!

This bordered on forcing the president to resign, as if at gunpoint. Our sister country, Madagascar, had recently had just such an experience, leading to great instability. However, we were told that the mood at Esselen Park was ‘foul’ and it would be helpful if the letter was delivered before participants left the meeting. This argument did not help the situation as it suggested that people would not go until the letter was delivered. This sounded like an ultimatum. A ‘foul mood’ cannot be the reason for anyone to violate the Constitution.

My view was that the president had to be given time to think carefully through the constitutional issues involved before he wrote the letter and that the contents of the letter had to be tested against the law and the Constitution. As long as he was still president of the country he had to honour his oath by upholding, defending and respecting the Constitution as the supreme law of the Republic. I was of the view that nothing would go awry between Sunday and Monday, given the willingness of the president to resign voluntarily.

My advice was: ‘Do not do it. Take your time, allow for proper consultations with lawyers and parliament and then finalise the letter.’ I asked the official to communicate my view to the president.

En route to Mahlamba Ndlopfu, thinking hard about these matters, I received a call informing me that the president wished us to comply with the deadline. He repeated that he did not want it to be thought that he wished to remain in his position for a day longer than his party wanted him to. If it was ngoko we must do it ngoko! He was determined not to give anyone the opportunity to destabilise the country, as some were bent on doing.

To meet this deadline we had to work hard to ensure that the letter was delivered before 7.00 p.m. to the speaker of parliament, Baleka Mbete, who was also the chairperson of the ANC, and was at Esselen Park together with the president of the ANC, Jacob Zuma.

Many people do not understand why the president gave in so easily and volunteered to resign. Some feel that, in doing so, he let them down. Others felt strongly that the president had not given the country an opportunity to test the constitutionality of a party ‘recall’ of the president of the country, who was elected by parliament. Yet many others were ready to resist or campaign against his removal but were disarmed by the president’s decision to comply with the decision of the party.

In fact, in the interests of peace in the country the president had very few options that had no possibility of undesirable or unpredictable outcomes. If he had chosen not to resign, the country would have been plunged into a crisis of enormous proportions, as there was no constitutional provision for the party to do what it wanted to do except through parliament. Other options were equally risky and could not be considered. One was the ‘orange revolution’ method used to unseat governments in some Eastern European countries, an option that would have required the mobilisation of the masses and would have entailed considerable risk, as the people would have been deeply divided.

In addition, we had classified information that suggested refusal might have resulted in some resorting to foolish and desperate methods which, too, could have threatened the stability of the country. At this point there were a considerable number of comrades, both within and outside government, who were engaged in activities that could have easily sent them to jail, but the decision was that this was not the route we should go, as it would have deepened the crisis.

As I thought over all these matters, I was reminded of the words of an elderly member of my congregation who, angry at the events that had taken place at Polokwane, came to me during the ‘peace be with you’ liturgical moment and shook me, asking, ‘Mfundisi, what have you done with our organisation? How could you allow this to happen?’ She is tall and heavy and could have just pushed me over, as I had not expected her to go beyond the liturgical handshake to actually shaking me up. Some members of the church who witnessed this act were surprised but continued with the liturgy activity of sharing ‘peace’ with others.

Because it was in the middle of the service I could not answer her or respond. I just said, ‘Let’s find time to talk.’ When we did find time she expressed her shock and disgust about what had happened in Polokwane in the presence of the leadership – the unbecoming behaviour of the delegates, the rudeness, the vulgarity, and so on – which she said was totally uncharacteristic of the ANC she has known and been a part of for many years. A few weeks later she came back to me and said that perhaps the Polokwane decision had to happen after all; that perhaps the Lord had allowed it to save us from people who might have resorted to violence, which could have destabilised the country. I was struck by the fact that this gogo (‘granny’), relying purely on her spirituality and politics rather than intelligence information, understood so well the implications of what could have happened if a different option had been pursued.

Interestingly, the media did not examine the options that were open to the president and what their possible consequences were. There was no serious analytical work, as the focus was on his removal from the office, statements justifying his removal, his response, the resignation of his ministers, and about his successor. It was almost as if the media was happy over the outcome of the NEC deliberations. It was what they also wanted.

The one thing many commentators and analysts missed was the dangerous blurring of lines between party and state. The party made a decision to recall the president and the president responded as a disciplined cadre of the ANC who would not defy his party. The challenges of the use of the concept of a recall have already been dealt with but are worth reiterating. A party can recall a member who is deployed but no one can recall a president, as he or she is elected by parliament. If there was an agreement between the president and his party, then the president had to translate the agreement into reality in a constitutional way.

This could only be done through parliament, which was why Mbeki and we believed this should be dealt with on the Monday, when the parliamentary leadership would be in office. Both the executive and parliament needed their lawyers to put their heads together to map out the best legal and constitutional route to effect the process. Given that this was not a coup d’état, this should not have been a problem.

The question we had to deal with was: does the president have to prepare two letters, one to the party and one to parliament? The answer was no, he was only obliged to tender his resignation to parliament. The fact that a party had decided to recall its member could not be a basis for the speaker to act until there was an official communication either from the party or from the president, and any such communication would require the speaker to consult with parliament and secure its decision. This is where the lines became blurred. Even though the speaker (who was Baleka Mbete), in her capacity as national chairperson of the party, had chaired the meeting at which the decision was made, she could not demand the letter of resignation in her capacity as speaker. Nor could she set deadlines for the president. In the circumstances the president could have ignored the demand and a crisis might have ensued.

Thank God that Mbeki, in his magnanimity, ignored these technicalities and had the letter delivered on time to the speaker at Esselen Park. The downside of this approach is that the country was denied the possibility and opportunity of testing the ‘recall’ approach and its constitutionality through public debates, parliamentary processes and even the courts. It left a precedent the country may not want to have. But Mbeki would argue that it was the best way to save the country then, and he also did not want be the subject of such a debate.

During the afternoon President Mbeki had held an emergency cabinet meeting at the Union Buildings, for which the NEC, which had not completed its agenda, had to adjourn to give NEC members, who were also members of the national executive of the country, an opportunity to attend. The mood was sombre, with some cabinet members fighting back tears. Some were angry, some numb, others expressionless, and a few managed to present awkward jolly faces. Deputy President Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka decided that if the president resigned she would also resign. A number of ministers and deputy ministers also decided to resign, some of them as a matter of principle and for others on procedural grounds, because it was the president who had appointed them.

After the meeting President Mbeki returned to Mahlamba Ndlopfu to finalise his letter of resignation, addressed not to the ANC but to the parliament that had elected him. The letter served to inform parliament that he had decided to ‘resign’ his position ‘as president of the country, effective upon receiving your advice that parliament has finalised this matter’ (my emphasis). He left it to parliament to decide on the date on which his resignation would become effective. The intention was to give parliament and the executive time to consult and agree on the procedures to be followed, as was the tradition in terms of the cooperative relationship between the two arms of government.

Once the couriers had left for Esselen Park with the letter, we turned our attention to the draft of the president’s speech to the nation, scheduled for 7.00 p.m. As was his habit, he drafted the speech and asked us to read it, proofread it and respond to it. On this occasion we made few suggestions – it was his speech.

By this stage the special lounge at Mahlamba Ndlopfu had become a command centre from which we monitored the progress of the couriers and helped with the preparations for the president’s address while the communications, protocol and security teams worked on the logistics with the SABC studio in Pretoria, Tshwane, for the live address. As the letter was delivered, the president addressed the nation and the world:

Fellow South Africans, I have no doubt that you are aware of the announcement made yesterday by the National Executive Committee of the ANC with regard to the position of the President of the Republic.

Accordingly, I would like to take this opportunity to inform the nation that today I handed a letter to the Speaker of the National Assembly, the Honourable Baleka Mbete, to tender my resignation from the high position of President of the Republic of South Africa, effective from the day that will be determined by the National Assembly [my emphasis].

I have been a loyal member of the African National Congress for 52 years. I remain a member of the ANC and therefore respect its decisions. It is for this reason that I have taken the decision to resign as President of the Republic, following the decision of the National Executive Committee of the ANC.

The rest of the speech was in the form of a last report to the nation, covering the vision, principles and values that had guided the ANC during the struggle and that were, among others, the ‘life-long lessons’ cadres of the movement learned. Mbeki informed them that

… wherever we are and whatever we do we should ensure that our actions contribute to the attainment of a free and just society, the upliftment of all our people, and the development of a South Africa that belongs to all who live in it.

He went on to say:

Indeed, the work we have done in pursuit of the vision and principles of our liberation movement has at all times been based on the age-old values of Ubuntu, of selflessness, sacrifice and service in a manner that ensures that the interests of the people take precedence over our desires as individuals.

I truly believe that the governments in which I have been privileged to serve have acted and worked in the true spirit of these important values.

In the speech he also alluded to Judge Nicholson’s judgment, which had precipitated the decision to remove him from office, stating that ‘since the attainment of our freedom’ the government had ‘acted consistently to respect and defend the independence of the judiciary’ rather than ‘act in a manner that would have had a negative impact on its work’. Even when government had to publicly express ‘views contrary to that of the judiciary’, it had done so ‘mindful of the need to protect its integrity’.

Consistent with this practice, I would like to restate the position of Cabinet on the inferences made by the Honourable Judge Chris Nicholson that the President and Cabinet have interfered in the work of the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA).

Again I would like to state this categorically that we have never done this, and therefore never compromised the right of the National Prosecuting Authority to decide whom it wished to prosecute or not to prosecute.

This applies equally to the painful matter relating to the court proceedings against the President of the ANC, Comrade Jacob Zuma. More generally, I would like to assure the nation that our successive governments since 1994 have never acted in any manner intended wilfully to violate the Constitution and the law.

We have always sought to respect the solemn Oath of Office each one of us made in front of the Chief Justice and other judges, and have always been conscious of the fact that the legal order that governs our country was achieved through the sacrifices made by countless numbers of our people, which include death. In this context it is most unfortunate that gratuitous suggestions have been made seeking to impugn the integrity of those of us who have been privileged to serve in our country’s National Executive.

Although I was a member of the team that had worked on the speech, as I listened to him speaking it struck me that the ANC seemed to have made no attempt to hear the president’s side of the story; no attempt to apply the audi alteram partem (hear the other side) principle or the basic rules of justice. This left the president to defend himself in the public sphere rather than in a proper forum of the organisation. While Judge Nicholson’s inferences would be dismissed by the Supreme Court of Appeal (SCA), the ANC’s dismissal of the president was never reversed nor was there any intention to reverse it. In any case, the Nicholson judgement was simply an excuse for other interests.

The president returned to Mahlamba Ndlopfu and found us together with some of his close members of cabinet and some ANC leaders in the famous lounge, reminiscing about the unbelievable events of the past 24 or so hours and comparing them with Mbeki’s illustrious career as deputy president and president of the country over a period of about fifteen years. Although there were challenges and controversial issues such as the HIV and AIDS debate which, some believe, marred his presidency, the unprecedented 24 hours had nothing to do with that. Instead, they were a culmination of a vicious and debilitating internal strife within the ANC, centred on the removal of Zuma from his position as deputy president of the country and the charges of corruption preferred against him.

Mbeki’s illustrious service to the people of South Africa, the African continent and the rest of the world did not matter. Of all the commendable things Mbeki did during his presidency, what loomed highest was his African Renaissance vision, which had already taken root with programmes such as NEPAD and the APRM. No one – not even his worst enemies – would be able to take this away from him.

The public statement of the president brought his presidency to an unexpected and dramatic end. It felt like the light had just been switched off, bringing to an end a fast-paced exciting movie which had ended in a tragedy. It left one feeling empty and depressed, continually asking the question of how this could have happened.

With hindsight those who sat in that lounge reminiscing about the past 24 hours were like the disciples of Jesus Christ after his crucifixion. ‘He was a prophet,’ they said, ‘powerful in word and deed before God and all the people … they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem’ us. Of course, Mbeki is not Jesus Christ, but that gathering in that famous lounge just after the president announced his resignation brought these thoughts about his disciples to me. I was able to understand better what they went through.

Mbeki entered the room and we all stood up in respect, congratulated him for the address to the nation and then took our seats again. We talked into the night and I then made my fourth trip back to Soweto in a period of only 48 hours.

CHAPTER 2

The Aftermath

Managing Mbeki’s Resignation

Monday, 22 September 2008

On the Monday morning I had an appointment I could not change. I was scheduled to speak at a workshop on Zimbabwe, organised by the Lutheran World Federation at a conference centre in Benoni. It involved representatives of churches in South Africa and Zimbabwe and members of civil society from both countries. The focus was on what the churches could do to assist Zimbabwe, following the signing of the Global Political Agreement (GPA) more than a week earlier.

For the conference organisers life had to go on irrespective of the unfolding events in South Africa – they were determined that, in the interests of the people of Zimbabwe, nothing should be allowed to overshadow the progress being made. Others who held a contrary view on the developments still felt that the meeting was important to maintain the momentum for the resolution of the crisis. Whatever the differences in perspectives, both groups agreed on one thing: the worrying developments in South Africa should not derail them from the course of finding peace in Zimbabwe.

For me it was more awkward to honour this invitation, in the light of the unfolding events which affected me directly and required my urgent attention, especially because of the meetings with the security entities given that I was the secretary of the National Security Council. On the other hand, it was a godsend, giving me an opportunity to critically reflect on and contrast the situation in Zimbabwe with that in South Africa. I shared with the workshop participants the challenges we were facing, the risks attendant on them and how easy it was for a very stable and promising country to be destabilised to a state where everyone loses control of events. Zimbabwe, the subject of that meeting, was a living example of this tragedy.

Although conditions in Zimbabwe were different, the two countries had much to learn from each other. What was incredible, though, was the fact that a president had just been forced to resign but the participants were able to continue with their workshop without any hindrance. This gave them a sense of comfort that it is possible, even in the face of the worst crisis, to maintain stability and peace while seeking solutions.

One of the lessons we learned from the historical experiences of the two countries was that in a country which has come through war or political conflict, no negotiated settlement will ever be perfect and equally satisfactory to all the contending or interested parties. One need only look at the 1980 and 1994 settlement agreements in Zimbabwe and South Africa respectively. Secondly, where leaders focus more on their personal political interests or ambitions, narrow party interests or external interests (such as those of the major superpowers) instead of the interests of the people (the common good across party lines), the conflict is bound to worsen rather than abate.

The lesson from the unfolding events in South Africa was that leaders who care about their people are always ready to be sacrificed if that will save the country. Here national interest takes precedence over personal interests. Unfortunately, this is not the trend internationally and that is why we have intractable wars and conflicts.

I then presented the GPA, its logic and the compromises made to reach the agreement. I also had to deal with public and media perceptions and perspectives which had no bearing on the reality and content of the agreement, and the need for wise and strategic leadership to make the agreement a success. There were radical differences during the question and answer session, but at the end most of the participants agreed that there was no other agreement (without compromises) that could be used to help normalise the situation in Zimbabwe other than the GPA.

While I was at the workshop, at the Union Buildings the president was meeting, as planned, with the command structures of the security establishment – the defence force, the police and the intelligence services – to brief them about his decision to resign and his expectation of them to act professionally, as well as ensure that there was stability and security for all South Africans. The media was invited for photo opportunities to ensure that the public knew about these developments. Pictures of the president and the command structures of the security forces bidding farewell sent a very positive signal in terms of the security of the state and the stability of the country. It assured the public that the transition from Mbeki to the next president would be managed in a peaceful manner.

In my address to the workshop I used the developments at the Union Buildings to illustrate the commitment of the leadership to a stable transition. After my session at the workshop I hastily returned to the Union Buildings to manage the transitional processes.

Earlier in the day our staff made contact with the staff in parliament to work on the constitutional and legal issues arising out of the intention of the president to resign, the timing of the resignation and procedures to be followed. While we were doing this, the president received a letter from the speaker informing him of parliament’s decision that his resignation would be ‘effective from Thursday the 25 September 2008’ and that the new president would be elected at 11.00 a.m. the same day. The speaker did not consult the president about this matter and he had no advance warning of the letter or the contents thereof as we would have expected. (Unfortunately, despite repeated attempts to acquire a copy of the letter in question, I was unable to secure the document.)

Later we learned that the speaker had issued a note on the ‘parliamentary process to deal with the resignation, of the president of the Republic of South Africa and related matters’. The speaker announced the resignation of the president in the National Assembly by reading the president’s letter of resignation, and the chief whip of the majority party thereupon moved a motion without notice to the effect ‘that the President’s resignation will take effect on Thursday, 25 September 2008’. As there was an objection to the motion being moved without notice, the chief whip gave notice with the view to moving the motion the following day.

With hindsight, it is interesting that except for the Azanian People’s Organisation (AZAPO), no other party in parliament raised constitutional issues related to this resignation. AZAPO believed that the ANC’s decision undermined the office of the president and the legitimacy of the president having been elected by parliament. Moeletsi Mbeki, the brother of the president who often differed from him politically, was more vocal about this matter as an analyst. His view was that the ANC did not follow the Constitution in dealing with the matter of removal of the president from office. He thought the ANC should have lodged a complaint against the president in parliament, based on the Nicholson judgment. Parliament would have investigated the matter and a decision would have been taken in terms of the Constitution. He expressed a serious concern that ‘if they [the ANC] … continue to follow the path of not following the constitution then they are going to lead this country to a civil war’.

Whatever the case, parliament chose to deal with the matter as just a matter of moving a motion to determine the date when the resignation would take effect, followed by a letter to the president informing him about the date. Again, like the media, the political parties in parliament (except AZAPO) seemed to be ready to close their eyes to the constitutional issues, as they were happy to see Mbeki leaving as president. Self-interest weighed heavily against the interests of preserving our constitutional democracy. Their definition of ‘truth’ and ‘justice’ depends on whether or not an issue favours their position or interest rather than in itself.

There were complications occasioned by the formulation of the letter from the speaker of the National Assembly. ‘Effective from Thursday’ would mean that he ceased to be president at midnight on the Wednesday, creating a vacuum for the eleven hours until the new president was sworn in. An attempt to interact with parliament in this regard was met with a clear message from the speaker’s office: ‘The contents of the letter are final and will not be changed or amended’ to address the concerns that had been raised. This was strange, as there was no legal or constitutional basis for the speaker’s office or even parliament to dictate the date, time and terms of the voluntary resignation of the president. On this matter they had no authority. To be precise, the response of parliament also bordered on violating the Constitution, since the speaker and her office were acting on behalf of parliament.

At this point, given the atmosphere generated by the decision of the NEC of the ANC, I realised that cooperation between parliament and the executive had been thrown out of the window because the same players at party level were in the leadership of parliament. The lines between parliament and party were again blurred and parliament was used as if it were a representative of the ruling party rather than elected representatives of the people. Indeed, the party ‘foul mood’ in Esselen Park, in Gauteng, was transferred into parliament in Cape Town, in the Western Cape.

This stance put the executive in a difficult position: to find its way without the involvement of parliament. This was extraordinary and could not be done in our democracy or any normal democracy. The team from the presidency used its normal contacts within parliament, developed over many years, to continue working together below the radar of the politics of the day as we had to prepare for the swearing in of the president.

The letter from parliament generated further activity in the presidency – it gave the president very little time in which to take his leave of those who had served with him and worked for him. The president asked me, as secretary to the cabinet, to convene the last cabinet meeting in the late afternoon on the Wednesday, so he could bid farewell to his colleagues. The president also wanted to bid farewell to parliament but this was not to be, given the attitude displayed by the office of the speaker of the National Assembly – yet another instance of party issues being confused with parliamentary matters. The finality of the letter from the speaker seemed to be intended to close any possibility of the president addressing parliament to bid its members farewell.

The fact is that it was not parliament which decided on Mbeki’s resignation nor were there any constitutional or legal impediments which could be used to bar the president from addressing parliament about his decision to resign. In terms of s 84(d) of the Constitution, which gives him the power to summon parliament to an extraordinary sitting, the president could have asked the presiding officers in parliament – that is, the speaker of the National Assembly and the chairperson of the National Council of Provinces (NCP) – to convene a joint sitting of the two houses to announce his resignation in parliament, rather than hand over a letter of resignation to the speaker.

His address to the nation about his resignation, which he delivered on Sunday evening, could have been presented in parliament at a time of his choosing and this could have given him the opportunity to bid farewell in a more appropriate manner. The pressure for him to deliver the letter on Sunday evening could have been intended to close off this possibility. Once he delivered his letter to the speaker, he put himself at the mercy of the speaker and the door to a parliamentary farewell was closed.

Mbeki’s view would be that if he had exercised his right in the way in which the Constitution allowed, he could have created a further crisis which could have led to instability in the country. Once more he opted to avoid such a crisis, and the presidency decided not to raise any further questions about this matter. History will have it that Mbeki was denied the opportunity to say farewell to parliament based on matters that had nothing to do with parliament, governance or national interest.

Another problem was that we needed to organise a farewell function for the staff and associated institutions in the presidency, but there was no possibility of doing this before the president’s resignation took effect on the Thursday morning, as too many complex issues had yet to be dealt with. The function would have to be held on the Friday, when his presidency would have been terminated, and this would require consultation with the new president. As the ANC had already announced that they had nominated the then minister in the presidency, Kgalema Motlanthe, for the post of the president, I consulted him about our dilemma. He graciously said he did not foresee any problems and plans went ahead for the function.

I also had to deploy the relevant staff in Cape Town to prepare for the swearing in of the new president following his election on the Thursday morning. The swearing in ceremony was fixed for 2.00 p.m. Since the deputy president and some ministers had resigned in response to the decision to remove Mbeki, we also had to arrange for the swearing in of a new deputy president and new ministers and deputy ministers, and Friday afternoon was chosen for this purpose.

The resignations were controversial. Some resigned as a matter of principle as they felt that the removal of the president was both unjust and unacceptable and they wished to express their solidarity with him. Others resigned because they believed they were serving at the pleasure of the president and could not remain in office if the president who appointed them was removed. Section 102(2) of the Constitution provides that where a vote of no confidence in the president is passed, both he or she and the members of the cabinet and any deputy ministers ‘must resign’. This was clearly not the situation here. There was no ‘vote of no confidence’ in the president, and the ministers and deputy ministers could stay in office and continue with their work.

Another situation, dealt with by s 94 of the Constitution, relates to the ‘continuation of cabinet’ after elections, which obliges ministers to leave office once a new president is sworn in. This, too, had no bearing on the situation we were facing, which was unique and not anticipated by the constitution-makers. The section of the Constitution we relied on was the one dealing with an acting president in the case of a vacancy (s 90[1]), which leaves cabinet in place.

The ANC was concerned about the resignations and called on the ministers and deputy ministers not to resign, to ensure stability in government, and meetings were arranged to persuade them to stay in office. A few changed their minds but the rest, who had already submitted their resignations, remained adamant. Some of those who resigned felt it would be better for the new president to reappoint them rather than to inherit them from his predecessor. Not unexpectedly, the controversy escalated, with some within the ANC accusing Mbeki of encouraging resignations en masse in solidarity with him, an accusation denied by Mbeki and all those involved or affected.

An unprecedented situation

Although Kgalema Motlanthe was already in the presidency, he could not assume the responsibilities of president until he was sworn in; and since Deputy President Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka had resigned, she could not help us as her resignation took effect on the day Mbeki ceased to be president. Thus we found ourselves in a situation where we had a president whose task was all but impossible because he had been informed that he could not continue with some of his presidential responsibilities – a violation of our Constitution. On the other hand, we had a nominated president who was also not in a position to perform any presidential tasks until he was duly elected and sworn-in in terms of the Constitution.

This created an unprecedented situation where, as the most senior professional public servant, I had to assume completely unexpected responsibilities. Most importantly, I had to manage the exit of President Mbeki at the same time as I managed the entry of President Motlanthe, an extraordinary and emotionally taxing task. I had to help the man I believed had done so well for the country and for the African continent to leave office in circumstances I believed to be totally unjustifiable. But as the head of the presidency (a civil servant) and secretary of the cabinet, I had to manage this change as professionally as I could, which required me to be neutral and objective.

As the most senior professional public servant I had to take responsibility once the political principals, the office bearers, were unable to execute their responsibilities, or if there was political paralysis of some kind. I also had to plan the procedures relating to the swearing in of the new president and to serve him loyally, whatever my personal views. Fortunately I had no problems with Comrade Kgalema Motlanthe. In fact, I personally believed he was the best person available at the time and, as deputy president of the ANC, was the natural choice.

All this notwithstanding, it was still emotionally very taxing to manage the transition. During the week I relied heavily on my faith, on my commitment to peace in the country and on my professional understanding of the nature of the state and the role of the secretary of the cabinet. It was also a week in which I appreciated my adrenalin glands, which kept me going as I managed this difficult situation.

Managing the interregnum

Fowler impressed on me the need to address the hiatus on the Thursday morning occasioned by the letter from parliament. This did not surprise me as Fowler had worked in parliament before and was sensitive to parliamentary issues.

Those of us who spent more time working in the presidency tended to focus more on what the president and or the executive of government was doing or should do. Fowler argued strongly that the hiatus in which we found ourselves required the cabinet secretary to take responsibility for the transitional processes. Initially I brushed off his argument, feeling that he was exaggerating my role. My modesty in this case did not help. It later became clear to me that I had no choice but to take that responsibility.

Tuesday, 23 September 2008

‘Black man you are on your own’, Steve Biko famously said, and by Tuesday morning it had become clear to me that apart from the dedicated team that worked with me within the presidency I was indeed, like Biko’s black man, very much on my own! Although the president had the constitutional right to exercise his powers up to and including the last second of his presidency, he chose to be cautious and was hesitant about making decisions on matters that affected him directly during his last days in office. He was also hesitant about making decisions or expressing opinions on matters which went beyond the currency of his office, except where it was absolutely necessary. Besides the party having put limitations on what he could do, this was a matter of integrity.

Motlanthe, on the other hand, had no constitutional powers at all until he was sworn in. Some among us (especially within the party) believed that Jacob Zuma, as president of the ruling party, should take responsibility for government. But this, too, would be unconstitutional and another challenge invoked by mixing government with party. Those who believed that the president of the ANC had the authority to take over presidential powers and lead the country had no respect for the Constitution.

There were moments during this waiting period when I felt that there was a cabinet outside the actual cabinet; that decisions were being made elsewhere and it was being expected that the secretary of the cabinet would execute them. But this I could not do. Actions which required a cabinet decision had to be made either by the president or by cabinet and I could act only once the real cabinet had made its decision.

Every decision I had to make suddenly had implications way beyond the presidency and government. The risks were huge. But the decisions had to be made for the sake of the country and the integrity of the state.

In an effort to address Fowler’s concern about the possible hiatus on Thursday, we looked at various options the Constitution gave us. Section 90 of the Constitution states:

… during a vacancy in the office of President, an office-bearer in the order below acts as President:

(a)  The Deputy President.

(b)  A Minister designated by the President.

(c)  A Minister designated by the other members of the Cabinet.

(d)  The Speaker, until the National Assembly designates one of its other members.

The first option was not applicable, since the deputy president had resigned or submitted her letter of resignation. With regard to s 90(b) we agreed that it might be questionable for the president to designate one of his ministers to act as president beyond the currency of his office, although some felt that this could be done because removal from office does not reverse decisions made during the presidential term. We felt s 90(c) was a safer option. Accordingly, arrangements were made for the ministers to be enabled to act in terms of this section to designate one of their own to act as president from midnight on the Wednesday when Mbeki’s resignation would take effect. The minister of communications, Ivy Matsepe-Cassaburi, was designated acting president at a meeting chaired by the outgoing president.

Interestingly, this was the responsibility of the executive rather than that of parliament, which is why it did not make sense for parliament to determine the time at which the resignation of the president should take effect, without consulting the executive. Unfortunately, given the politics of the day, this was done without thought to the consequences beyond mere parliamentary considerations. One should say, though, that the note of the speaker, dated 22 September 2008, did not see any crisis, as it clearly states that ‘there will be no need to have a person acting as President pending the election’. In my view this statement was incorrect. One could not have a vacuum for eleven hours before a new president was elected and sworn in.

The next problem was the swearing in of the new president, which was the responsibility of the executive and the judiciary and had to be arranged through consultation between these two arms of the state.

Once the president is sworn in he or she becomes the responsibility of the executive, in particular the secretary of the cabinet and director-general in the presidency. Consequently, the presidency and other affected departments had to work together to manage the transitional processes relating to security, accommodation, support staff, and many other issues.

Packing up

It was reported that the suggestion that Mbeki be given two weeks to a month to complete his work and prepare for his departure was shot down at Esselen Park. His departure had to be ngoko! As a result, he had no chance to go to Cape Town and clear his office or the official residence at Genadendal. Given the uncertainty about what would happen after midnight on the Wednesday, staff at Genadendal were instructed to pack his and Mrs Mbeki’s personal belongings and arrange for their transportation to Gauteng.

For the staff who had to carry out this instruction it felt like there had been a coup d’état, especially because they were not taken into confidence about the details of what was happening. Was the president packing hastily and running away? Was he forced to leave? Was he safe where he was? What was going to happen next, including to the staff at the relevant official households?

Once his term of office ended Mbeki could not be flown by the air force without the permission of his successor, so one of the first issues I had to deal with when I met President Motlanthe after he had been sworn in was to get permission from him for the air force to fly the former president to Cape Town to deal with his personal belongs. Again, President Motlanthe was very gracious, saying he had not known the former president needed his permission.

By the time permission was obtained Mrs Mbeki had done everything possible to move out of Genadendal and, in the end, Mbeki never returned either to Genadendal or to his offices at Tuynhuys, feeling it inappropriate to do so once the new president was in office.

 

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