Author: Moses Khisa. PHOTO/FILE
Earlier this week, the Independent Electoral Commission (IEC) of South Africa held a two-day symposium on political funding. The symposium took place in Durban, in the Kwazulu Natal Province on the Indian Ocean shoreline. The symposium sought to take stock of lessons from the country’s recent experiences with regulating political funding, or money in politics, but also to draw from international comparative perspectives in assessing where South Africa stands and the way forward. The IEC commissioned a study done by the Human Sciences Research Council, a highly respected research organisation, to evaluate implementation of the 2018 Political Funding Act, the law regulating financing of political parties and especially electoral activities. The study’s findings presented at the symposium had some sobering conclusions.
A key headline was the low trust in the country’s political processes and South Africa’s overall democratic system. But this is not at all unique to South Africa. Globally, disillusionment with the democratic model of government, whichever way one defines or slices it, is far more pronounced today than perhaps at any one point since the late 1980s and the end of the Cold War that prompted a famous ‘The End of History’ thesis by an eminent American political scientist (a subject for another day). The failed promises of material prosperity, or more precisely of modernity, inevitably fuel anger against the ideals and principles of a democratic system. It is now a standard sleight of hand to reduce democracy to popular elections, whether credible or fraudulent, yet in reality there is far more to a democratic society and system beyond elected officials and regular elections.
South Africa is a particularly troubling case having realised political freedom, following the dramatic end of apartheid in 1994, without economic emancipation for the vast majority of Black citizens. Three decades after the monumental transition from a nefarious system of overt racial segregation, and apartheid, to full citizenship rights and the onset of electoral democracy, South Africa remains trapped in deep economic problems. Arguably, it has the world’s highest wealth and income inequality. There is affluence of the few side-by-side with the impoverishment of the many, posh neighbourhoods and poor settlements, large mansions, and many shacks. This socioeconomic situation necessarily undermines the viability and sustenance of a democratic system of government because the economically impoverished majority either exit into silence or express their voice by revolting.
Either way, it is potentially disastrous. The former robs a democratic system of its bloodline – citizens’ engagement –, which in turn means that those with the capacity to perpetuate the existing system that benefits them can have a free hand to drive things. That is, the economically privileged can use their economic muscle to control the political system in the protection of their material interest. In effect, democracy serves the rich and powerful, not the poor and voting masses. This is where political funding, especially if unregulated, becomes a direct affront on a democratic system. The bank trumps the ballot and one-person one vote becomes untenable. By contrast, if there is voice by way of revolt, violent revolution can result in dire consequences for society. Both scenarios appear to hoover menacingly on the horizon for South Africa’s socio-political landscape, unfortunately.
In Durban, the first day of the symposium on political funding had some rancorous scenes and spirited statements. There was anger and indignation, but directed at the wrong party – the IEC. Quite impressively, a calm and collected chair of the IEC firmly spoke to the moral conscience of those in a packed conference hall who expressed strong sentiments of grievance – there was value in constructive dialogue and candid civic engagement, he insisted, without turning to unruliness and rowdiness. The latter is perilous, he cautioned. Consequently, what appeared a rocky start quickly gave way to more engaging and fruitful deliberations. There were some smart and sound proposals for reforming the legal and regulatory regime for political funding in the Rainbow Nation. When I spoke, I offered some reassuring comparative reflections that placed South Africa in a broader perspective.
After listening to several presentations that assessed the state of political funding in the country, I concluded that South Africa was pursuing a far more promising democratic direction than the citizens, at least those in the room, were willing to appreciate. Things elsewhere are comparatively worse. My sense though was that South Africans can chart their own trajectory that is not a cheap parroting or slavish replication of foreign practices and templates. Democracy is a double-edged sword. It cuts both ways and can sometimes make deeper painful cuts than those on the happier side of the equation.
As a system of government, democracy is fraught and necessarily vulnerable to popular discontent and disillusionment even where the fundamental problems of the day, like economic hardships, have little to do with the theory and practice of democracy. In the main, democracy tends to be an easy punching bag, especially for populist pandering that rallies public anger without a compelling and viable alternative agenda.
Moses Khisa
