MIKE SILUMA | Our culture of unaccountability imperils the nation

In calmer times, the measures announced by President Cyril Ramaphosa to deal with the immigration crisis might have received broad support from South Africans. After all, who can fault a government for committing itself to tightening its borders, deporting those who break immigration laws and stamping out corruption among those responsible for protecting the integrity of the state, such as the police, border management and home affairs?

But we live in abnormal times, where citizens are taking over the state’s role of ascertaining who is rightfully in the country and who is not, and who may or may not run a tuck shop. For good measure, the civic groups behind this campaign, backed by daily street marches, have issued an ultimatum for illegal immigrants to leave South Africa by the end of this month.

Given the government’s long-standing lackadaisical approach to the immigration issue, the question is why it has failed to act decisively in the past. The problem of undocumented immigrants, abetted by our own state officials, has not erupted unexpectedly. It has long been a sore point for many, especially in the poorer sections of our society.

In his address, Ramaphosa made the obvious point that “South Africans have a right to expect a state that is effective, professional and capable of enforcing its own laws”. The government, he said, “will accordingly take action to address the expectations of our people in dealing with the challenge of violations of our immigration laws”.

He readily admitted that “there have been weaknesses” in the management of migration, together with failures of “rigorous and focused enforcement”. He mentioned corruption too. “The basic principle … is that every person within the borders of South Africa should be here legally,” he said.

The trouble seems to be that time after time we are seduced by a smooth tongue and interminable promises

Therefore, on the face of it, there appears to be a confluence of concern between the president and the likes of March and March, which is driving the protests. The question is, why has the government not acted decisively for decades? Why did it have to wait for the issue to boil over in the streets and cause much national anxiety before acknowledging its gravity?

More pertinently, why were the “weaknesses” allowed to take root? And who will be held to account?

The latter question surely speaks to a pernicious culture that has come to mark our public life — the tolerance of unaccountability among those who hold public office.

It has become the norm that instead of properly accounting for their failures and suffering the consequences, those who fall short merely have to proffer explanations and more plans. Even though their nonperformance directly impacts the welfare of the country and its people, we are prepared to give them a hearing to explain things away. That’s considered good enough.

The trouble seems to be that time after time we are seduced by a smooth tongue and interminable promises.

On Sunday night the president made fresh promises. But does the government, in its present state, have the capability to seal the infamously porous borders or identify all those who are in the country illegally? Does it even know how many there are and how many carry forged South African identity documents? With the top echelons of the police, let alone their subordinates, being exposed every day for corruption, will the service be able to carry out its designated responsibilities?

In many state of the nation addresses, promises have been made to turn the economy around and create jobs for the millions of unemployed, raising hopes that have no prospect of being fulfilled. Joblessness is regularly described, without exaggeration, as a ticking time bomb. Are our leaders perhaps waiting for the unemployed to also march in the streets — for the bomb to explode — before acting?

While we are about it, dare we ask who will account for the wastage of millions in public funds poured into the much-vaunted rapid transit system, now headed for the scrap heap in Joburg, Tshwane and eThekwini, for instance?

Also this week, we saw the leaders of Johannesburg — misnamed as a “world-class African city” — in parliament, purportedly to account to MPs for the sorry state into which they have allowed the city to degenerate. Having performed the ritual of giving explanations and making more promises to right things, they were happily released to head back to the former Golden City — where residents’ lives are made unpleasant by daily water and power cuts and potholed roads.

With the city’s finances in dire straits, they said little about mayor Dada Morero’s “bomb squad” promise. The squad’s mission, Morero said previously, was “to fix what is broken, clean what is dirty, enforce where there is lawlessness, and restore dignity to our communities”. The people of Joburg still wait.

While Joburg is often the centre of attention, it mirrors what is happening in towns big and small around the country, despite (again) many state of the province and state of the city addresses. Ask, for instance, the residents of Emfuleni, a town drowning in effluent for years.

While we are about it, dare we ask who will account for the wastage of millions in public funds poured into the much-vaunted rapid transit system, now headed for the scrap heap in Joburg, Tshwane and eThekwini, for instance?

Those who run the country at different levels seem to believe that promises and explanations can substitute for the performance and delivery the country expects and needs, and for which it pays them. Our culture of unaccountability imperils the nation. The question is, what will happen when citizens become exasperated by the never-ending promises and explanations?