Mandela in Randfontein, South Africa, November 1993. Photograph: Getty Images
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Mandela's power has come: The ANC's challenges in government

While the ANC has spent years bravely resisting apartheid, it has no experience of government. Sarah Baxter assesses the problems facing Nelson Mandela in power.

“The goal of our struggle is in sight, we are now ending one journey and starting another.”

Nelson Mandela, FNB stadium

For 82 years, the ANC has endured banning orders, expulsions, torture and jailings. It has operated in exile and underground. It has organised passive resistance and waged the armed struggle. It has barely had time to learn the skills of legal opposition, let alone government. But, as the votes are being counted in South Africa, it is preparing for power.

Many South Africans have been talking about their fears for the future. Bombs, destabilisation, economic chaos and violence. No sooner did the threat from Inkatha recede, than the terrorist white right has swung into operation. But none of this can detract from the sheer exuberance felt by South Africans who have been able to vote for the first time. For me, Shadrik Moloi, 45, who is illiterate and scratches a living pointing out parking spaces to motorists, put these pre-election nerves in perspective. He told a newspaper in Johannesburg: “My fear is that I won't know how to make my vote. I think I will not know how to make my cross on the paper.” I hope he succeeded.

For now, the vote is all that matters. There are no more whites—only parliaments; and no more tricameral chambers for Indians and coloureds. Everyone has the vote, including Shadrik Maloi. At the Johannesburg Stock Exchange last week, Mandela promised that the years of mass action were over. “It was the action of a community which had no basic rights in this country and no vote. We have now got the vote.” The long-awaited “day of liberation” has arrived, and the years of government are about to begin.

Mandela has not had to prove that he is a statesman. That much was obvious from the day he left prison. But he has conducted the election campaign faultlessly. Wherever he has spoken, in the remote parts of South Africa as well as its urban ghettoes, he has reached out not only to the rapt audiences before him, but to the wider world beyond. He has not been too dignified to poke fun at his opponents, but he has spoken at all times of the national interest.

Could his biggest fear be his own mortality? He has been oddly emphatic in his last campaign speeches that “as long as I live”, white farmers, business people, the money markets and ethnic minorities have nothing to fear. But he is 75. He has survived the brutality of apartheid and has seen it crumble in his lifetime. That is already a remarkable achievement. In due course, the business of government will pass to a future generation.

It is one of the distortions of apartheid that there is a missing generation of leaders, dating from the 1960s, when the ANC was banned. The leader of the ANC in exile, Oliver Tambo, is dead, and many of Mandela's old comrades are near or past retirement age, although they, too, remain active: Walter Sisulu, Joe Slovo, Joe Modise and Ahmed Kathrada. Recognising people's fears about the succession, Kathrada emphasised at a rally in the Asian township of Lenasia last week that there was a “wealth of leadership” in the ANC. Generations to come would be guided by ANC policy, he said. But party discipline is not what it was during the years of jail and exile. Activists have had different experiences of opposition politics; and none of them (whites excepted) has had the vote, let alone power before.

The two frontrunners for the post of deputy president, Thabo Mbeki and Cyril Ramaphosa (if they are not displaced by Chief Buthelezi in the interests of “national unity”), have very different backgrounds. Mbeki, 51, the party's national chairman, went into exile as a teenager in 1961 and spent years representing the ANC abroad. Ramaphosa, 41, the ANC's general secretary, who formed the National Union of Mineworkers and led it into the Council of South African Trade Unions (Cosatu), belongs to the new generation of ANC leaders, who learned their politics in the 1970s and 1980s as students in the black consciousness movement and as trade unionists and community activists in the United Democratic Front (UDF). There has been a great debate over whose experience has been more valuable: Mbeki, with his knowledge of life abroad and different regimes; and Ramaphosa, with his negotiating skills and practical experience of modern South Africa.

Tokyo Sexwale, 40, who is likely to be regional premier of South Africa's hub, the Pretoria-Witwatersrand-Vereeniging region, straddles the gap between the old and new guard. He was a black consciousness activist who went into exile in 1975, spent time in the Soviet Union and was jailed for 13 years in Robben Island on his return. He was recently voted South Africa's sexiest politician—not just because of his name—and is capable of charming township militants in Soweto and liberal whites in Johannesburg. Although he was compromised by the discovery of men found beaten in the basement of the ANC's regional office, he has managed to avoid the blame settling on him.

Many other up-and-coming leaders, who are destined for high office, are even younger: Trevor Manuel, 37, the ANC's head of economic policy; Jay Moosa, 36, ex-general secretary of the UDF. Between them, they have led strikes, organised mass action, conducted negotiations and have been detained. But, like everyone else in the ANC, they have no experience of office.

The ANC, however, has a “plan” for government. It is so proud of its plan, otherwise known as the Reconstruction and Development Programme (RDP), and refers to it so frequently, that when I first arrived in South Africa it sounded disturbingly Stalinist. Hadn't the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe had enough failed “five-year plans”? Mandela has been brandishing the ANC's “plan” as though it were the trump card of the entire elections. “We have a plan Mr de Klerk, where is your plan?” he never stops asking the National Party leader. Far from being a Stalinist document, however, the purpose of the plan is to provide hope and reassurance. To Mandela, it is proof that the ANC is fit to govern. It has a “plan”, if not a record in office. It gives him confidence that the ANC can meet its promises.

The National Party has been busily trying to demolish the RDP, drawing on the tactics of the British Conservative Party. Advised by Mrs Thatcher's PR man, Sir Tim Bell, it has “costed” the programme and concluded that it will lead to higher taxes. But Mandela has gone out of his way to soothe the business community. “The economy of our country must be based on sound market principles,” he assured the Johannesburg Stock Exchange last week. “If you look at our programme, there is not a single sentence about nationalisation. There is not a single sentence that is communist, as our detractors claim.” The all-white traders said he left them feeling “mildly bullish”.

While many elements in the ANC remain militant, there is a key generation of young activists, who were radicalised in the 1970s and 1980s, but would now describe themselves as moderate, who are moving into positions of power and influence behind the scenes. Some will be civil servants and advisers to the new regime, whose task will be to ensure that the transition to a multi-racial society goes smoothly; others have already taken up business and management jobs in the multi-national corporations that used to shut out non-whites. They have now been catapulted into senior positions—the new South Africa will be a young society—but they are also pragmatists. Frank Meintjies, 35, a former journalist on I community newspaper in Natal and ex-information officer for Cosatu, has just been appointed to the eight-member council of the Independent Broadcasting Authority, charged with awarding new franchises for television and radio. “People on the left are talking about more managers,” he says, “and that denotes a key mental shift. We used to talk a lot about leadership, which was a fuzzier term that had more to do with platform oratory.” He is worried, however, that in the student movement, the UDF and other collective organisations in which people like him cut their teeth, “there was never any clarity about power and responsibility. One or two People would emerge as leaders because they were more combative. In the past, it was easy to make excuses for mistakes.”

Yacoub Abba Omar, 33, who joined Umkhonto WeSizwe in the 1980s and spent several years in exile before the ANC was unbanned, is now head of communications for Armscor, the acquisition agency for South Africa's defence forces. “Previously, the head of communications would have concentrated on making sure things did not get in the press and promoting the South African arms industry overseas. It is my job to ensure that the industry works in as transparent a way as possible and that it is accountable to elected and appointed officials.” He says firmly that there is little money to be saved from defence cuts, contrary to the claims of many leading ANC figures. In the short term, spending may even rise, as former ANC and PAC cadres are merged with the existing South African defence forces.

Ismail Momoniat, 36, is a member of the ANC's department of economic planning. He, too, is one of the party's new realists. “The collapse of the Eastern bloc has left a huge vacuum for lots of people, but it has meant there is no debate about whether you have the market system or not. You have to send the right signals to the financial markets.” The ANC, he says, will have little choice but to adopt the National Party's existing budget for the year 1994-95. There will be different spending priorities, but the over-all economic framework will remain the same. “We can't launch into big public investments in year one,” he says. Already, the department of economic planning is keeping a wary eye on the spending commitments made by voluble politicians, just like the Treasury or any western finance ministry.

So “responsible” is the ANC determined to be in office that May Hermanus, 33, a former National Union of Mineworkers official and safety engineer, who was headhunted by Samancor, the South African Manganese Corporation, suspects that large employers will end up closer to the trade unions than the government. “I think the Labour movement is going to hit its head against an ANC government,” she predicts. She regards the moratorium on

Strikes called for by the ANC in the run-up to the elections, when civil servants and hospital workers in the homelands began to take industrial action, as a sign of trouble to come. “I don't think the workers are going to stick it for long.”

Hermanus, who was classified as “coloured” by the apartheid regime, says, “My whole life has changed in the past ten years. I can walk the streets, go into cinemas and restaurants and work for a company like Semancor and feel I have something to offer. It's my country, my place and I have a role to play.” But, she adds, “It's scary. I don't feel powerful. I feel insecure and worried. This is the crunch. After all these years of arguing about things, we're actually going to have to make the changes work.”

Nelson Mandela has shown few signs of pre-election jitters, but he, too, must sometimes feel powerless and small. It was horribly clear as guns rang out around the FNB stadium in Johannesburg that he is respected, but not always obeyed. He was furious, warning that the ANC's security guards would be answerable to him for allowing weapons past the gates, and reminding “criminal elements” in the ANC that gun control was a main plank of party policy. None of the “comrades” will have paid any attention.

But, when, as seems certain, he is inaugurated as President of South Africa on 10 May, he will not be alone. There are many others in the ANC who share his ideals of peaceful and steady transition towards a multi-racial society. According to the constitution, he will have to lead a government of national unity, that includes members of the opposition par-ties, until the next election in five years' time. And, for the first time in his life, he will have the power of the state behind instead of against him. The time has come.

Jeremy Corbyn. Photo: Getty
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Lexit: the EU is a neoliberal project, so let's do something different when we leave it

Brexit affords the British left a historic opportunity for a decisive break with EU market liberalism.

The Brexit vote to leave the European Union has many parents, but "Lexit" – the argument for exiting the EU from the left – remains an orphan. A third of Labour voters backed Leave, but they did so without any significant leadership from the Labour Party. Left-of-centre votes proved decisive in determining the outcome of a referendum that was otherwise framed, shaped, and presented almost exclusively by the right. A proper left discussion of the issues has been, if not entirely absent, then decidedly marginal – part of a more general malaise when it comes to developing left alternatives that has begun to be corrected only recently, under Jeremy Corbyn and John McDonnell.

Ceding Brexit to the right was very nearly the most serious strategic mistake by the British left since the ‘70s. Under successive leaders Labour became so incorporated into the ideology of Europeanism as to preclude any clear-eyed critical analysis of the actually existing EU as a regulatory and trade regime pursuing deep economic integration. The same political journey that carried Labour into its technocratic embrace of the EU also resulted in the abandonment of any form of distinctive economics separate from the orthodoxies of market liberalism.

It’s been astounding to witness so many left-wingers, in meltdown over Brexit, resort to parroting liberal economics. Thus we hear that factor mobility isn’t about labour arbitrage, that public services aren’t under pressure, that we must prioritise foreign direct investment and trade. It’s little wonder Labour became so detached from its base. Such claims do not match the lived experience of ordinary people in regions of the country devastated by deindustrialisation and disinvestment.

Nor should concerns about wage stagnation and bargaining power be met with finger-wagging accusations of racism, as if the manner in which capitalism pits workers against each other hasn’t long been understood. Instead, we should be offering real solutions – including a willingness to rethink capital mobility and trade. This places us in direct conflict with the constitutionalised neoliberalism of the EU.

Only the political savvy of the leadership has enabled Labour to recover from its disastrous positioning post-referendum. Incredibly, what seemed an unbeatable electoral bloc around Theresa May has been deftly prized apart in the course of an extraordinary General Election campaign. To consolidate the political project they have initiated, Corbyn and McDonnell must now follow through with a truly radical economic programme. The place to look for inspiration is precisely the range of instruments and policy options discouraged or outright forbidden by the EU.

A neoliberal project

The fact that right-wing arguments for Leave predominated during the referendum says far more about today’s left than it does about the European Union. There has been a great deal of myth-making concerning the latter –much of it funded, directly or indirectly, by the EU itself.

From its inception, the EU has been a top-down project driven by political and administrative elites, "a protected sphere", in the judgment of the late Peter Mair, "in which policy-making can evade the constraints imposed by representative democracy". To complain about the EU’s "democratic deficit" is to have misunderstood its purpose. The main thrust of European economic policy has been to extend and deepen the market through liberalisation, privatisation, and flexiblisation, subordinating employment and social protection to goals of low inflation, debt reduction, and increased competitiveness.

Prospects for Keynesian reflationary policies, or even for pan-European economic planning – never great – soon gave way to more Hayekian conceptions. Hayek’s original insight, in The Economic Conditions of Interstate Federalism, was that free movement of capital, goods, and labour – a "single market" – among a federation of nations would severely and necessarily restrict the economic policy space available to individual members. Pro-European socialists, whose aim had been to acquire new supranational options for the regulation of capital, found themselves surrendering the tools they already possessed at home. The national road to socialism, or even to social democracy, was closed.

The direction of travel has been singular and unrelenting. To take one example, workers’ rights – a supposed EU strength – are steadily being eroded, as can be seen in landmark judgments by the European Court of Justice (ECJ) in the Viking and Laval cases, among others. In both instances, workers attempting to strike in protest at plans to replace workers from one EU country with lower-wage workers from another, were told their right to strike could not infringe upon the "four freedoms" – free movement of capital, labour, goods, and services – established by the treaties.

More broadly, on trade, financial regulation, state aid, government purchasing, public service delivery, and more, any attempt to create a different kind of economy from inside the EU has largely been forestalled by competition policy or single market regulation.

A new political economy

Given that the UK will soon be escaping the EU, what opportunities might this afford? Three policy directions immediately stand out: public ownership, industrial strategy, and procurement. In each case, EU regulation previously stood in the way of promising left strategies. In each case, the political and economic returns from bold departures from neoliberal orthodoxy after Brexit could be substantial.

While not banned outright by EU law, public ownership is severely discouraged and disadvantaged by it. ECJ interpretation of Article 106 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (TFEU) has steadily eroded public ownership options. "The ECJ", argues law professor Danny Nicol, "appears to have constructed a one-way street in favour of private-sector provision: nationalised services are prima facie suspect and must be analysed for their necessity". Sure enough, the EU has been a significant driver of privatisation, functioning like a ratchet. It’s much easier for a member state to pursue the liberalisation of sectors than to secure their (re)nationalisation. Article 59 (TFEU) specifically allows the European Council and Parliament to liberalise services. Since the ‘80s, there have been single market programmes in energy, transport, postal services, telecommunications, education, and health.

Britain has long been an extreme outlier on privatisation, responsible for 40 per cent of the total assets privatised across the OECD between 1980 and 1996. Today, however, increasing inequality, poverty, environmental degradation and the general sense of an impoverished public sphere are leading to growing calls for renewed public ownership (albeit in new, more democratic forms). Soon to be free of EU constraints, it’s time to explore an expanded and fundamentally reimagined UK public sector.

Next, Britain’s industrial production has been virtually flat since the late 1990s, with a yawning trade deficit in industrial goods. Any serious industrial strategy to address the structural weaknesses of UK manufacturing will rely on "state aid" – the nurturing of a next generation of companies through grants, interest and tax relief, guarantees, government holdings, and the provision of goods and services on a preferential basis.

Article 107 TFEU allows for state aid only if it is compatible with the internal market and does not distort competition, laying out the specific circumstances in which it could be lawful. Whether or not state aid meets these criteria is at the sole discretion of the Commission – and courts in member states are obligated to enforce the commission’s decisions. The Commission has adopted an approach that considers, among other things, the existence of market failure, the effectiveness of other options, and the impact on the market and competition, thereby allowing state aid only in exceptional circumstances.

For many parts of the UK, the challenges of industrial decline remain starkly present – entire communities are thrown on the scrap heap, with all the associated capital and carbon costs and wasted lives. It’s high time the left returned to the possibilities inherent in a proactive industrial strategy. A true community-sustaining industrial strategy would consist of the deliberate direction of capital to sectors, localities, and regions, so as to balance out market trends and prevent communities from falling into decay, while also ensuring the investment in research and development necessary to maintain a highly productive economy. Policy, in this vision, would function to re-deploy infrastructure, production facilities, and workers left unemployed because of a shutdown or increased automation.

In some cases, this might mean assistance to workers or localities to buy up facilities and keep them running under worker or community ownership. In other cases it might involve re-training workers for new skills and re-fitting facilities. A regional approach might help launch new enterprises that would eventually be spun off as worker or local community-owned firms, supporting the development of strong and vibrant network economies, perhaps on the basis of a Green New Deal. All of this will be possible post-Brexit, under a Corbyn government.

Lastly, there is procurement. Under EU law, explicitly linking public procurement to local entities or social needs is difficult. The ECJ has ruled that, even if there is no specific legislation, procurement activity must "comply with the fundamental rules of the Treaty, in particular the principle of non-discrimination on grounds of nationality". This means that all procurement contracts must be open to all bidders across the EU, and public authorities must advertise contracts widely in other EU countries. In 2004, the European Parliament and Council issued two directives establishing the criteria governing such contracts: "lowest price only" and "most economically advantageous tender".

Unleashed from EU constraints, there are major opportunities for targeting large-scale public procurement to rebuild and transform communities, cities, and regions. The vision behind the celebrated Preston Model of community wealth building – inspired by the work of our own organisation, The Democracy Collaborative, in Cleveland, Ohio – leverages public procurement and the stabilising power of place-based anchor institutions (governments, hospitals, universities) to support rooted, participatory, democratic local economies built around multipliers. In this way, public funds can be made to do "double duty"; anchoring jobs and building community wealth, reversing long-term economic decline. This suggests the viability of a very different economic approach and potential for a winning political coalition, building support for a new socialist economics from the ground up.

With the prospect of a Corbyn government now tantalisingly close, it’s imperative that Labour reconciles its policy objectives in the Brexit negotiations with its plans for a radical economic transformation and redistribution of power and wealth. Only by pursuing strategies capable of re-establishing broad control over the national economy can Labour hope to manage the coming period of pain and dislocation following Brexit. Based on new institutions and approaches and the centrality of ownership and control, democracy, and participation, we should be busy assembling the tools and strategies that will allow departure from the EU to open up new political-economic horizons in Britain and bring about the profound transformation the country so desperately wants and needs.

Joe Guinan is executive director of the Next System Project at The Democracy Collaborative. Thomas M. Hanna is research director at The Democracy Collaborative.

This is an extract from a longer essay which appears in the inaugural edition of the IPPR Progressive Review.

 

 

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