As he faced mounting criticism for his apparent overreliance on lengthy and costly commissions of inquiry – often viewed as a substitute for timely and decisive action – President Cyril Ramaphosa once again attracted public scrutiny after announcing the establishment of yet another commission in response to explosive allegations made by KZN provincial commissioner, Lt-Gen Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi.
Seeking to allay growing public concern, the president defended his administration’s approach by citing the multibillion-rand clawbacks achieved through the various commissions he has instituted since assuming office.
He further pointed to the structural reforms implemented at the South African Revenue Service following the recommendations of the Nugent commission as evidence that these inquiries are not mere exercises in delay, but can yield lasting institutional improvements and accountability. Nevertheless, critics remain unconvinced, arguing that commissions have too often served as a means to defer action rather than to enforce it.
While Ramaphosa may crow about the billions of rand recovered by the state through the work of the various commissions of inquiry initiated under his watch, his narrative remains conspicuously incomplete and off the mark. Notably absent is any substantive acknowledgment of the far greater sum – conservatively estimated to run into hundreds of billions – that was looted through the systemic corruption of the state capture era, much of which remains unrecovered and, in many cases, beyond the effective reach of SA’s legal and prosecutorial jurisdiction. A significant portion of these illicit gains have been laundered offshore, shielded by opaque international financial networks and protected in jurisdictions uncooperative with local authorities.
Moreover, the true cost to the South African economy transcends mere rand value. Losses include the theft of intellectual property and strategic capabilities at state-owned entities such as Denel; vast opportunity costs arising from the diversion of public funds away from critical developmental and infrastructure projects; and the erosion of social benefits that could have accrued to the broader population had resources been properly allocated. Perhaps most damaging of all is the profound and lasting collapse of public trust in government institutions, particularly in the criminal justice system and law enforcement agencies – an erosion that continues to undermine efforts at renewal and reform.
The Zondo commission’s report sharply criticised parliament for its failure to hold the executive accountable – failures that enabled state capture. Yet, when a parliamentary committee attempts to exercise its oversight mandate over higher education minister Nobuhle Nkabane, who blatantly ignored its summons, the president appeared indecisive and rudderless until he was ultimately compelled to act – only after she had brazenly shown South Africans a litany of middle fingers.
It would not be unreasonable to suggest that, in his attempt to deflect legitimate criticism of commissions from an increasingly disillusioned and fatigued public, Ramaphosa ended up missing the forest for the trees – focusing on selective successes while overlooking the broader systemic failures that continue to plague the state.
In so doing, Ramaphosa comes across as aloof and disinterested to addressing the legitimate growing public unease with government’s failed promises. On various occasions, Ramaphosa proclaimed his administration and party’s commitment to ensure consequence management against those fingered for corruption.
Yet, to date, a beleaguered National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) – still finding its feet after years of institutional decay – has struggled to deliver meaningful prosecutorial success in the wake of the state capture revelations. Hampered by a police service facing its own crisis of credibility, particularly in light of mounting claims of infiltration by its head implicating its highest ranks, the NPA has thus far failed to hold to account the key architects of grand corruption. Many of those implicated in the looting of the state continue to roam free, their impunity casting a long shadow over the administration’s claims of accountability and justice.
This glaring absence of consequences has led many South Africans to recoil in frustration, increasingly viewing our democratic project as one teetering on the edge of tragicomedy.
How else can one rationally explain the spectacle of a member of parliament – criminally charged and currently standing trial – being allowed to address the National Assembly, using that very platform to champion the supposed virtues of conduct that forms the basis of the corruption charges he faces at Transnet?
The absurdity is further compounded by the spectacle of an impeached former senior judge – himself removed from office for gross misconduct – standing in parliament as leader of the opposition and labelling the sitting president a corrupt man. Such scenes are not only deeply ironic; they are a betrayal of the democratic ideals for which so many struggled and sacrificed.
Put bluntly, in light of the prevailing national mood, Ramaphosa and his cabinet appear to inhabit an alternative reality – one that exists in a parallel moral and legal universe, increasingly detached from the lived experiences and frustrations of ordinary South Africans.
For as long as senior executives and politicians implicated in state capture corruption at corporations – including Asea Brown Boveri, Bain & Company, Bell Pottinger, Bosasa, China Railway Rolling Stock Corporation, Deloitte, Gupta Inc., Hitachi, KPMG, McKinsey, Nedbank, Regiments, SAP, Standard & Chartered, and Tegeta Exploration & Resources – alongside their local enablers, remain unaccountable or enjoy the corporate privilege of non-prosecution agreements for their roles in facilitating systemic looting across state owned enterprises, Ramaphosa’s assertions of successful outcomes arising from the various commissions of inquiry will continue to ring hollow.
The failure to prosecute and hold these corporate actors to account underscores the selective nature of justice in the post-Zondo era.
Meanwhile, whistle-blowers – the individuals who risked everything to expose malfeasance – remain largely abandoned. Some are forced to live in exile, while others and their families continue to endure profound personal and financial hardship as a direct consequence of their courageous acts.
This glaring imbalance between the impunity of the powerful and the suffering of the principled not only undermines the legitimacy of the commissions’ findings but also calls into question the sincerity of government’s commitment to ethical governance and systemic reform.
I derive no joy from saying this, but for as long as we have what breathes, walks, and quacks like a criminal enterprise masquerading as a criminal justice system, all talk of renewal, reform, and ethical leadership under Ramaphosa’s administration is little more than hollow rhetoric – an elaborate performance staged to placate a weary populace while the machinery of corruption grinds on unabated, shielded by inertia, impunity, and institutional complicity.
One could forgive Ramaphosa for imagining that instituting costly commissions of inquiry per se are a panacea for our ailing democratic order – which finds itself in even deeper turmoil – when in fact this nation is crying for decisive action by him.
Yet, this nation cannot absolve him for his wilful blindness and alarming tone-deafness in the face of mounting criminality, injustice and institutional decay.
- Khaas is founder and chairperson of Public Interest SA
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