The thrall in which the Zondo commission held us may have eased somewhat since it kicked off last year and had us on the edge of our seats with daily revelations of how deep and insidious the state capture project under Jacob Zuma was. But over the past week it became clear once again why the commission is so critical in holding those responsible to account.
Let us begin with the testimony of Zuma’s former intelligence chiefs Mo Shaik and Gibson Njenje, who, as far back as 2011, were booted out of their posts after they recommended an investigation of the potential threat to national security posed by Zuma’s friends, the Gupta family.
What made Shaik’s testimony particularly poignant is that his relationship with Zuma spanned decades and he was once among the former president’s top advisers.
"There came a point in his administration where he could not even separate in his mind the personal relationship with the Guptas with his responsibilities as the head of the national executive, with all its constitutional requirements," Shaik said.
He revealed that Zuma’s relationship with the Guptas ran deeper than previously thought — his son Duduzane had not only been employed by the Guptas, but had also lived with the family when he was studying in India.
Shaik described how Zuma stonewalled a probe into the Guptas recommended by top intelligence officials, who feared the family posed a risk to national security. Not only did they have before-the-fact knowledge of cabinet appointments, there were suspicions that their company Shiva Uranium was receiving funding from Iran.
Danger of becoming a pariah nation
Shaik told the commission that at the time, the US was engaged in negotiations with Iran that led to the 2015 deal limiting Tehran’s nuclear ambitions. He said he was approached by the US ambassador who expressed concern about possible Iran-Shiva links.
"The consequences for SA would have been enormous. We would have been seen to be going rogue, in violation of multinational agreements. There would be an enormous financial consequence if sanctions were extended to SA," Shaik told the commission.
This could explain the sudden illness that led to Zuma cancelling his second appearance
But Zuma wasn’t having it. He stopped the probe in its tracks and sought to ship Shaik and two senior intelligence officers off to ambassador posts abroad.
When it was the turn of the former minister of international relations & co-operation, Maite Nkoana-Mashabane, who is now minister in the presidency for women, to appear before Justice Raymond Zondo, she left many confounded that she is still in the government. That’s how bad her stumbling attempts were at explaining why she recommended the man at the centre of the Waterkloof air base scandal, Bruce Koloane, be appointed ambassador to the Netherlands.
As the Zondo commission nears its end — it is due to finish on February 29 2020 — some wonder if there would be any value in extending its term. Lawson Naidoo, director of the Council for the Advancement of the SA Constitution, says Zondo will probably request an extension. If he does, he should explain what he would do with the extra time. "We need to start seeing the end of the road somewhere," Naidoo says.
True enough, but the commission’s efforts so far have been invaluable in laying the groundwork for the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) to begin acting on state capture.
Last week, Hermione Cronje, head of the unit tasked with state capture prosecutions, said the NPA was "mining" the data and evidence presented to Zondo and that it would ensure those "at the highest level" were held to account.
This could explain the sudden illness that led to Zuma cancelling his second appearance before the commission, and the sudden withdrawal from proceedings of Lucky Montana, former head of the Passenger Rail Agency of SA. And the former commissioner of the SA Revenue Service, Tom Moyane, is unlikely to follow through with his request to cross-examine public enterprises minister Pravin Gordhan if it means he would have to put his side of the story on record under oath.
While the commission might appear to be a lengthy, costly therapy session for a nation traumatised by a decade of rot and destruction, its true value is likely to be seen when the NPA begins its reckoning.
It is going to be explosive.
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