The late, troubled South African pop diva Brenda Fassie once remarked: “If Mama Winnie Mandela can be called Mother of the Nation, I want to be the Girlfriend of the Nation.” Now President Jacob Zuma risks being remembered as Father of the Nation, but for all the wrong reasons.
The President has taken a contradictory approach since the revelation that he has sired his 20th (recorded) child – yet another one out of polygamous wedlock. First, he issued a belligerent statement saying this was his private business. Then, as (black) public opinion turned against him, he apologised.
As President, Zuma already seemed lacklustre and directionless. Today he is the butt of ribald jokes, a lame duck barely one year into office.
Politicians everywhere claim the perks of high office, but the moment they are exposed for any misdemeanour, they insist on being treated as “an ordinary citizen”. So what is “the public interest” regarding public figures?
In South Africa, we are fortunate in not yet having Rupert Murdoch as a local newspaper proprietor. Thus political reporting here is not confined to paparazzi crawling through the undergrowth to snap a minister with his pants down. Murdoch’s tabloids define the public interest as anything that sells newspapers: hence the cult of celebrity and triumph of Murdiocrity.
This is significantly different from stories that inform us of what we need to know as voters: corrupt officials, criminal arms deals – or ministers who lecture “ordinary citizens” to do one thing while themselves living by entirely different standards which they wish to keep secret.
Of course, there are hotly contested overlaps. Bill Clinton spent years of his presidency bogged down with investigations into his liaison with a White House intern. This led to farcical quibbling over what constitutes “sex”. On the other hand, there has been no official investigation into whether his successor, George W Bush, consistently lied and manipulated evidence to justify his invasion of Iraq, with the loss of many thousands of lives.
At the time of Clinton’s Monica Lewinsky woes, it was remarked that he embodied an old rural American adage (to be said with a deep Southern drawl): he’s a hard dawg to keep on the porch. Jacob Zuma’s proliferating spouses are also experiencing this difficulty.
However, in the case of Zuma, there is a clear public interest factor. How on earth can he afford the upkeep of 20 (known) children?
Zuma’s legal woes began when he was Vice-President, precisely because he could not finance his own lifestyle. As was revealed in graphic detail in court, a shady businessman called Shabir Shaik paid large sums for most of Zuma’s daily living expenses – he even paid his outstanding ANC membership fees. Significantly, Shaik also paid sizeable amounts for the education of Zuma’s already numerous children at expensive schools. Shaik ruthlessly sought to cash in on this financial dependency and was subsequently imprisoned.
Today Zuma has a presidential salary. Yet benefactors continue to pay for celebrations and additions to his fabulously costly new rural homestead. So it is utterly legitimate to ask: who currently pays the school fees for all the President’s children – and if not Zuma, what do the “sponsors” expect in return?
Many African National Congress leaders now live ostentatiously beyond their formal means. But if journalists ask about who pays the piper, these public figures cry: we’re ordinary citizens entitled to our privacy.
In Zuma’s case, his begetting of offspring to almost biblical proportions has other ramifications. This even led to the proposed judge in his rape trial having to recuse himself – as the judge’s own sister had produced a son by Zuma.
As president, it cannot be good when his personal behaviour dominates headlines and becomes a national joke. Was it of public interest that Boris Yeltsin, when Russian President, was frequently a fall-down drunk? Is it of public interest if Italian Prime Minister Silvio Belusconi makes off-the-cuff pro-fascist remarks, cracks racist jokes or cavorts with teenage girls and hookers? You bet.
In these matters, the ultimate benchmark was set by the first great modern war correspondent, William Howard Russell, The Times correspondent during the Crimean War. He wrote a series of devastating scoops, particularly exposing the inept leadership of the effete English aristocrats leading the British troops. “Sir”, roared one of these generals, “I do not like what you write about.”
Russell’s reply is immortal and still applies. “Then sir,” he retorted, “I suggest that you do not do what I write about”.
