Is the ANC's dominance ending?

The creation of a new political party in South Africa is the latest sign of the ANC's problems.

The formation of the Agang party in South Africa is the latest reflection of the failings of the post-1994 settlement.

Agang – Sesotho for "Let us build" – aim to capitalise on tensions highlighted by the deaths of 34 miners on strike last year. Their mantra is to restore political accountability and social justice.

Mamphela Ramphele is a potentially formidable leader of the new party. A renowned anti-apartheid activist, she was politically and romantically tied to Steve Biko and spent seven years under house arrest. Ramphele, 65, can also make a claim to economic expertise, as a former Managing Director at the World Bank.

Ramphele has already created political noise with her party – that the ANC have already expressed concerns about the party receiving funds from abroad shows that Agang are regarded as a threat.

Agang lack the infrastructure and organisational capacity to challenge for victory at next year’s elections. There was similar excitement over the Congress of the People party before the 2009 elections, but they only received 8 per cent of the vote. Still, Agang's formation remains troubling for the ANC.

Perhaps the real puzzle is why the ANC has been so dominant until now - since apartheid, their vote share has never fallen below 62 per cent. A weak and divided opposition, loyalty to the revolutionary movement and the notion that regime change could be effected within the party, as with the fall of Thabo Mbeki, explain their electoral success.

The ANC's success has not been confined to averting the feared Civil War. Rates of economic growth have been steady. Whatever the popular perception of the ANC "selling out" to neo-liberalism, South Africa boasts a more generous welfare system than comparatively sized economies, especially in childcare and pensions. Since 1994, the income of the poorest has increased, despite high levels of immigration and population growth.

Yet goodwill towards the ANC is rapidly eroding. Under Jacob Zuma’s leadership, the party’s reputation for being too close to big business has only grown. Educational standards, persistent accusations of ANC corruption - most seriously regarding a $5bn arms deal in 1999 - and draconian media laws have also added to discontent. And Mbeki’s appalling handling of the HIV / AIDS epidemic still haunts the party. No wonder striking has become endemic, costing over 6 million working days in 2011.

While Agang are attempting to exploit such anger, of more immediate concern for the ANC is the Democratic Alliance. Once regarded as essentially a party for the white middle-class, the DA have matured into a formidable operation. At the 2009 election, they increased their vote share to 17 per cent, and they gained control of the province of Western Cape. Recognising the need to broaden their appeal, in 2011 the DA selected Lindiwe Mazibuko as their first black parliamentary leader. 

The ANC will win again in 2014, but they face a more powerful political opposition than anytime since transformation. Given the corruption and complacency charges increasingly sticking to the party, it may be no bad thing.

 

Mamphela Ramphele announcing the birth of the Agang party Photograph: Getty Images

Tim Wigmore is a contributing writer to the New Statesman and the author of Second XI: Cricket In Its Outposts.

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Why orphanages are not the answer to Hurricane Matthew’s devastation

For this year’s New Statesman Christmas charity campaign, we are supporting the work of Lumos in Haiti.

Two weeks after Hurricane Matthew made landfall, I found myself driving along the Haitian coast, 40 miles north of Port-Au-Prince. The storm had barely impacted this part of the country when it hit in early October. There were a few days of rain, some felled trees, and locals complained that water ate away at the beachfront. But nothing remotely comparable to the devastation in other parts of the country.

In an odd turn of events, I found myself traveling in this relatively untouched central zone with two young American women – missionaries. “And there’s an orphanage,” one pointed out as we zoomed by. “And here’s another one too,” the other said, just on the opposite side of the road. They counted them like a memory game: remembering where they’ve popped up, their names, how many children are housed within their walls.

The young women spoke of the neglect and abuse they witnessed in some of them. No matter how “good” an orphanage might be, it simply cannot replace the love, attention, and security provided by a safe family environment. “And it doesn’t matter if the kids look OK. It doesn’t mean anything. You know it’s not right,” the younger of the two quietly says. She was a volunteer in one that cared for 50 children at the time. “Most people who live and work in Haiti don’t like the orphanage system. We keep getting them because of Americans who want to help but don’t live in Haiti.”

In the quick mile of road that we covered, they identified nine orphanages. Two of the orphanages housed less than 10 children, six averaged around 40 children. One housed over 200 children. All but one was set up in the months following the 2010 earthquake. There was a significant increase in the number of orphanages across Haiti in the next four years.

The institutionalisation of children is still the go-to response of many Western donors. US funders have a quick and relatively cheap access to Haiti, not to mention an established history of support to orphanages with nearly seven years’ investment since the earthquake. Many local actors and organisations, international NGO staff, and others in the child protection sphere share the same fear: that many new orphanages will crop up post-hurricane.

But it’s not just orphanage donors who do not understand the true impact of their interventions. Humanitarian relief workers have a gap in institutional knowledge when it comes to best practice in emergency response for this particular vulnerable group of children.

Nearly two months on from the hurricane, rain and flooding continue to hamper humanitarian relief efforts in the south of Haiti. Over 806,000 people still need urgent food assistance and 750,000 safe water, and 220,000 boys and girls remain are at risk, requiring immediate protection. But what about the virtually invisible and uncounted children in orphanages? These children cannot line up to receive the food aid at relief agency distribution centers. They cannot take advantage of child-friendly spaces or other humanitarian services.

We must find a way of reaching children in orphanages in an emergency, and bring their situations up to an acceptable standard of care. They have the right to clean water, food, medical attention, education, and safe shelter – like all other children. But therein lies the catch: orphanages cannot just be rehabilitated into perceived best options for vulnerable families. A balance must be struck to care for institutionalised children in the interim, until family tracing and reunification can occur. Simultaneously, families must be strengthened so that they do not see orphanages as the only option for their children.

We know that nine orphanages per mile does not equal a good emergency response. Housing children along an isolated strip of road segregates them from their families and communities, and violates their best interests and their human rights.

Since I visited Haiti last, Lumos, in partnership with the Haitian government and local partners, has documented over 1,400 children in 20 orphanages in the hurricane-affected South. Vulnerable families have been strengthened in efforts to avoid separation, and we are working with the government to ensure that no new children are placed in orphanages.

We are all worried that, without concerted messaging, efforts to raise awareness among donors, relief agencies, and families, the orphanage boom will happen again in Haiti. And though Haiti is susceptible to natural disaster, its families and children shouldn’t have to be. In seven years we cannot find ourselves repeating the same sorry mantra: “and there’s another orphanage, and another, and another. . .”

Jamie Vernaelde is a researcher with Lumos, based in Washington, DC. Follow her on Twitter: @jmvernaelde

This December, the New Statesman is joining with Lumos to raise money to help institutionalised children in Haiti return to family life. In the wake of Hurricane Matthew, funds are needed to help those who have become separated from their families. Please consider pledging your support at http://bit.ly/lumosns

Thanks to Lumos’s 100 per cent pledge, every penny of your donation goes straight to the programme. For more information, see: http://wearelumos.org