Living in the shadow of an authoritarian state

James Myburgh has shown the alarming extent to which power within the ANC has been concentrated in the hands of the national leadership, and the control the party exercises over the state. We are probably witnessing the consolidation of the loose coalition of the early 1990s into an authoritarian one-party state. The revival of the doctrine of democratic centralism suggests that some ANC leaders aspire to create such a state. Many of them have long admired the USSR, China and Cuba, and the years in which they had to operate clandestinely have deeply marked them. There is also unconcealed dislike of liberal political ideas and institutions within the party, and the role of liberals in the anti-apartheid struggle is ignored. The ANC proclaims solidarity with blacks elsewhere, similar to the pan-German and pan-Slavic ‘tribal nationalisms’ to which Hitler and Stalin owed so much. This may explain why it doesn’t criticise dictatorships elsewhere in Africa. The party extends this solidarity to the third world, which similarly exonerates dictatorship in Cuba, Asia and the Middle East. The ANC’s handling of HIV/Aids suggests a tendency to subordinate science to ideology, and its declaration that the main cause of Aids is poverty is reminiscent of Lysenkoism, which decreed that scientific principles were socially determined. The concentration of power in the ANC leadership has undermined what Steven Friedman called the ‘loud diversity’ within the alliance. This has disturbing implications for the future of democracy. The consequences of centralisation of power include voter apathy, a lack of interest in political leaders, and the declining popularity of the ANC’s national leadership (Mbeki’s popularity in opinion polls is lower than that of his party). It is not surprising that voters’ enthusiasm for politics has declined, but it is worrying because apathy is an incubator for authoritarianism. The rigid list PR system encourages centralised control of political parties, and as the government has rejected any modification of it, this tendency will be maintained at least for the next election.

James Myburgh has shown in his article on page 34 (Focus 30, Floor crossing adds new muscle to ANC) the alarming extent to which power within the African National Congress (ANC) has become concentrated in the hands of its national leadership and the direct control that the party exercises over the state. I doubt that we are headed towards a Stalinist-style dictatorship that uses terror as an instrument of control (if that is what Myburgh implies; he is not explicit). But we are probably witnessing the consolidation of the loose coalition that emerged in the early 1990s into an authoritarian one-party state.

The revival of the doctrine of democratic centralism and its institutionalisation suggest that some ANC leaders aspire to create such a state. This aspiration is expressed unambiguously. We are sometimes reluctant to take the language political leaders use at face value, perhaps dismissing it as nostalgic rhetoric. But the language is unambiguous. Along with the use of the military term "deploy" to describe the appointment of a party official to a government position, democratic centralism implies a chain of command rather than an interactive association. And that is within the officer class!

Of course leaders cannot simply will a political regime into existence. But if we do not end up in an authoritarian state, it will be because socio-economic and political conditions, including possible resistance within the ANC, among its allies, and within civil society, are unpropitious for such an outcome, not because important leaders don't want to go there.

There are several long-standing dispositions towards autocratic rule in the party and among the social groups supporting it. A number of prominent ANC leaders have long admired the Soviet Union, Communist China and Cuba. Moreover, echoing the history of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, the ANC was forced, after it was banned, to operate as a clandestine party for three decades. The experience deeply marked the exiled leadership. There is unconcealed dislike of liberal political ideas and institutions within the ANC. The mainstream of current political discourse either neglects or denigrates liberal South African parties, past and present. A total eclipse has been cast over the anti-apartheid struggle of the Liberal Party. The Democratic Party is represented as a legacy of apartheid. The legitimacy of its role as opposition is dismissed. This hostility might be attributed to long-standing ideological differences between liberals and communists, though the history of their relationship is both less polarized and more complex than current thinking in the ANC would suggest.

Echoing a substantial body of public opinion, the ANC proclaims solidarity with blacks elsewhere, solidarity which transcends the limits of the nation state. This solidarity resembles pan-German and pan-Slavic "tribal nationalisms". Hitler and Stalin respectively owed more to these pan movements than any other ideology or movement in the view of Hannah Arendt, the classical theorist of totalitarian movements. This solidarity may explain the absence of criticism by the ANC of dictatorships elsewhere in Africa. An extension of this solidarity to the "third world" similarly exonerates dictatorship in Cuba, Asia and the Middle East. However it doesn't explain why an African leader of the calibre of Ethiopian Prime Minister Meles Zenawi doesn't appear on the ANC's radar screen.

The non-debate on HIV/Aids suggests that there is a disposition in the ANC to subordinate scientific policy to ideological considerations. In the assumption that the main determinant of Aids is poverty, the ANC resurrects the principles of Lysenkoism, which decreed that scientific principles were socially determined. This doctrine had disastrous consequences for agriculture in the USSR during the 1930s and China in the late 1950s. But aside from these, Lysenkoism had a devastating consequence for freedom of expression, providing the shibboleth for distinguishing between orthodox and unorthodox ideas.

The concentration of power in the ANC leadership has undermined the "loud diversity" (in Steven Friedman's phrase) within the alliance. The high level of popular activism during the 1980s was a major force in ending apartheid. But the United Democratic Front (UDF) and Congress of South African Trade Unions (Cosatu) that gave force to this activism were subsequently leached of their activist potentiality through the incorporation or marginalisation of many leaders.

This was an understandable but by no means inevitable consequence of the transition to democratic government in a society with so many issues still burning. It is disturbing because the most effective countervailing force against authoritarianism lies in the strength that popular movements like the UDF built up in their struggle against apartheid.

Some of the consequences are evident in Lawrence Schlemmer's survey of voter choices (Focus 29, 2003). First is voter apathy. The biggest trend in party support since March 1999 was the increase in "won't voters" from 3 per cent to 12 per cent. Second is the lack of interest in political leaders: 28 per cent expressed no interest, and the largest support for a political leader was 37,1 per cent cast for the retired former president Nelson Mandela. Between them the leaders of all parties managed to get only 35 per cent!

Third was the declining popularity of the national leadership of the ANC. Mbeki came out below the popularity of his party, an experience shared only by Marthinus van Schalkwyk, leader of the moribund New National Party. Even Stanley Mogoba, the indifferent leader of the minuscule PAC was more popular than his party. Schlemmer's survey of the popularity of ministers and provincial premiers reveals a similar decline in the popularity of leaders. Finance Minister Trevor Manuel, UDF veteran and the most popular minister, was judged most popular leader by only 1,7 per cent of the adults polled, and came a poor second to Ngoako Ramathlodi, premier of the impoverished Limpopo province, and largely unknown outside it. The most powerful member of Mbeki's Cabinet, Essop Pahad, did not win enough support to get onto the list.

It is not surprising that voters' enthusiasm for politics and its practitioners have declined after a decade of heightened political activism. But it is worrying, for apathy and indifference are incubators for authoritarianism.

The rigid list system like the one in South Africa encourages centralized control over parties. The government rejected any modification of the electoral system earlier this year, so this tendency will be maintained at least for the next election.