There should be an age limit on
staying in the political arena
7 Jan 2015 | Tony Leon | Original Publication: Rand Daily Mail
CAPE Town in early January
heaves with local and foreign tourists. In euros and dollars, at least, it
ranks as perhaps the best and cheapest long-haul destination in the world.
Hence the throngs of foreigners and temporarily returning expats now in the
Mother City.
At the weekend, with matters
other than the beaches and vineyards on its members’ their minds, the ANC
gathers in Cape Town for its annual show of force. The ruling party
— in-between bad-tempered jostling with the opposition-controlled city
council — is marking its 103rd anniversary, a reminder of both its longevity
and its power, which extends everywhere except in the city in which it will be
celebrating.
Without boring readers with my
recent social calendar, I was quite struck by the fact that, in four encounters
last week, I broke bread with members of the British House of Lords holidaying
in this city. They were a politically diverse bunch, Labour, Conservative and
independent. They were united by the fact that they enjoy the Cape sun at the height
of the British winter and have a huge regard for South Africa as a place to
visit and as a beacon of both hope and unfulfilled promise.
The last of this quartet I met
served in Tony Blair’s cabinet. I asked her about the article in The Economist,
in its Christmas double issue, about her former boss, the only
Labour politician to have won win three consecutive British general elections.
He is therefore objectively the most successful member of his and her
political tribe in terms of power, if not accomplishment.
The article in question was
headlined “The loneliness of Tony Blair”, perhaps an odd citation for such a
successful politician and someone who in his political afterlife commands
megamillions of rands to speak (as he will do here at February’s mining
indaba). He also appears to do useful work in the Middle East and Africa,
and in sport, in what is called “foundational do-gooding”.
The reason for the magazine’s
description is that the former PM is “celebrated abroad and reviled at home”.
And the reason for the latter can be summed up in one word: Iraq. Or in longer
form, for having uncritically signed up his country to the regime-changing
agenda of his close friend, if political opposite, US president George W
Bush. And doing so on a false prospectus concerning (non-existent) weapons of
mass destruction in the horrible hands, allegedly, of Saddam Hussein.
The guest offered a different
explanation for the Blair’s lack of appreciation of Blair in his home country:
“He came to office so young [he he was 43 when he became prime minister] and
was still relatively young when he left 10 years later. Constructing your
afterlife at such an age is quite a challenge.”
The opposite impulse seems to
attach to local political leaders. For all that the ANC obsesses with making
national demographics the be-all and end-all of public office and appointments,
the one demographic it never measures is age.
Consider this, and apply it
across the political spectrum: South Africa is a remarkably young country with
a rather aged leadership.
Overwhelmingly, South Africans
are less than 54 years old. About 20.2% of the country is younger than 24 and
the biggest age cohort (38.7% of the population) is between 25 and 54. Fewer
than one in 10 South Africans is on the wrong side of 55 (this columnist
among them, but I gave up political leadership at 50).
Now look at our leaders:
President Jacob Zuma is 72, DA leader Helen Zille is 63 and, at the far end of
the age spectrum, IFP president-forever Mangosuthu Buthelezi is 86.
The only exception is Economic
Freedom Fighters “commander-in-chief” Julius Malema, a comparative baby at only
33. But, as I once observed, his policies are so antique that he is almost old
by association.
Not that youth is the entire
answer, but sclerotic policies are often the result of ancient ideas, the
unwillingness to consider fresh ideas or the inability to open to outside
voices.
The old cliche “old habits die
hard” has some unfortunate application in a world of ageing leaders.
Zimbabwe is an even more extreme
example of this mismatch between the ages of a population and of its
leadership. Robert Mugabe quite incredibly holds the reins of power in his 91st
year while his young country suffers from decades of his misrule.
South Africa sensibly limits
presidents’ terms but does nothing to suggest that there is a retirement age
for other political office bearers.
The perfect counterpoint to the
obsolete older leader was perhaps provided in Blair’s home country when,
in its hour of need and crisis, of the world, 1940, Winston Churchill took
over, just in time, at the age of 65. But he did not operate in the era of
24/7 news, social media and the relentless demands of today’s information
cycles and culture of openness.
I found an explanation for
politicians exceeding their expiry dates in 2006, the year before Blair
was shoe-horned out of his position by his impatient rival Gordon Brown. It was
written of Blair by the thrusting Conservative journalist and now mayor of
London Boris Johnson (today aged 50).
“It is a necessary fact of
political biology that we never know when our time is up,” he wrote.
“Long after it is obvious that
we are goners we continue to believe it is ‘our duty’ to hang on, with
cuticle-wrenching intensity, to the privileges of our post. We kid ourselves
that there is a ‘job to be finished’. In reality, we are just terrified of the
come-down. There is no day that politicians find easier to postpone than the
day of their own resignation.”
Does this warning voice from
abroad ring any bells locally?
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