BARNEY MTHOMBOTHI | Ramaphosa’s lies have caught up with him

The skeletons that have been quietly rattling in the cupboard have now come out to haunt us. The country was still mulling over the implications of the Constitutional Court judgment on Phala Phala this week when an old ghost — Jacob Zuma’s interminable arms deal trial — rudely interrupted: “Hello, I’m still here!“.

It’s been 27 years — as long as Nelson Mandela spent in jail — since the scandal first saw the light of day. The Pietermaritzburg high court this week ruled that the trial should go ahead in February 2027 without any further delay. One can almost sense the frustration among the judiciary over Zuma’s ceaseless litigation. But Zuma, like a frog in the doorway that won’t go away no matter how hard you kick it, was quick to say he’ll appeal.

It’s inviting to compare the two cases. Both offences were committed by sitting presidents, and both were rebuked by the apex court. Zuma stole your taxes to build his rural palace. Ramaphosa, on the other hand, had money stolen from him. He should ideally be the victim, but no, he’s in the dock. It is the cover-up, rather than the deed, that has landed him in hot water.

The other thing that ties the two is the Houdini-like figure of Arthur Fraser. He got Zuma out of trouble and got Ramaphosa into trouble.

The court judgment against Zuma triggered a nationwide campaign to turf him out of office. His exit would signal better days. Or so we thought. With Cyril, we pause and scratch our heads, and weigh our options. Should we go with our heads or our hearts? Stick to principle or what’s politically palatable? As a friend put it: “The guy’s useless, but …”

There are no saints in this debacle, only villains. And that’s what’s befuddling the mind. The whole expanse of our politics is peopled with vultures and hyenas picking on one another’s decomposing carcasses

There’s a tentativeness this time that was absent in Zuma’s case. Because beyond that, we fear we could be staring at a yawning chasm. As one man once famously put it, the alternative could be too ghastly to contemplate.

But in a way, we’re already stuck deep in that symbol of ANC misrule, the ubiquitous pothole. The rickety edifice that is the government of national unity (GNU) could keel over and crumble. The DA, which generously handed the presidency to Ramaphosa two years ago, are now saying they owe him nothing. But that’s not what Helen Zille told us when they conferred the honour on Ramaphosa, even as the Phala Phala scandal was swirling around his head.

They led us to believe he was the barrier or bulwark between sanity and chaos. It was an unselfish or benevolent act on their part. They weren’t keen to see the country go to the dogs. Everything had to be done to prevent the ANC’s lunatic fringe, led by the uncharismatic and charmless Paul Mashatile, and spurred on by a hypocritical SACP, from inviting its fellow travellers in the EFF and MK to form a kleptocratic version of the GNU.

Cyril was their surety. And they swallowed their pride and stuck by him even as he dishonestly shortchanged and cheated them on the number of cabinet posts. They’re now in government — and loving it. But the DA seems to have adopted a more muscular approach to the Phala Phala debacle in the wake of the constitutional judgment.

But what is wrong now was wrong in the past. In the event of a vote on the matter, I guess, we should look forward to the unusual spectacle of turkeys voting for Christmas. At that point, Mrs Mashatile should, I suppose, start preparing for the delightful task of measuring the curtains at Mahlambandhlopfu.

There are no saints in this debacle, only villains. And that’s what’s befuddling the mind. The whole expanse of our politics is peopled with vultures and hyenas picking on one another’s decomposing carcasses.

The ANC’s 30-year joyride, looting, lying and bragging, has come to a sticky end. The electorate is voting with its feet

Fraser, who blew the whistle on Phala Phala, is a state capture foot soldier and a somewhat malignant figure in the country’s body politic. He’s the man who leaked the so-called spy tapes in 2009, that intimidated the NPA into dropping charges against Zuma, thus removing the hurdle that stood between him and the presidency. Fraser again came to Zuma’s rescue more than a decade later when, as correctional service commissioner — a job he was inexplicably given by Ramaphosa — he unlawfully released the former president from jail on some bogus medical parole.

The knight in shining armour riding to our rescue in this instance is one Julius Malema, a convicted felon. He’s chortling with glee because at last he’s landed a judgment he’s thrilled with. For a moment he even seems to have forgotten about the sword of Damocles hanging over his head that could eviscerate not only his political career but that of his party as well.

No crude insults and sexist or mysogynistic missiles aimed at the presiding officer this time. The man who’s spending sleepless nights trying to stay out of prison himself wants Ramaphosa in jail. He should lead the way. The chutzpah, the arrogance, yes, the hypocrisy of the man knows no bounds. Zilch self-awareness. Unfortunately, we always get played by such conmen – and we happily lap it up. Such suckers.

For Ramaphosa, his lies have finally caught up with him. For a man occupying such an honourable position, he seems strangely addicted to telling a few porkies if that’ll get him out of a tight spot. Lies are part of his political armoury, it would seem.

But such a strategy — dissembling and deception — can work only if you have enough bootlickers to caress your ego. That train has pulled out of the station. The ANC’s 30-year joyride, looting, lying and bragging, has come to a sticky end. The electorate is voting with its feet.

So there’s no option or alternative for Ramaphosa but to face the music. And let the chips fall where they may. Who knows, it could even prove a cathartic moment for the country.