In our new book, The Presidents: From Mandela to Ramaphosa, Leadership in The Age of Crisis, we present five case studies in presidential leadership based on the five post-1994 democratic era presidents of South Africa. The fifth, and current president, is facing an anxious wait to see if he can secure re-election as ANC president.
Even his allies and supporters complain, at least in private, that they regret Cyril Ramaphosa’s indecisiveness and lack of boldness befitting the urgency of South Africa’s socioeconomic predicament. Those who have known him longest are confounded by the change in his character from his days as a courageous trade union leader in the 1980s.
This abridged and edited extract from the book, which is published this week, compares Ramaphosa 1.0 (the 1980s version) with Ramaphosa 3.0 (the current president).
We believe the reason his presidential leadership character appears to be at odds with the resolute and courageous leadership he demonstrated in the 1980s lies in his challenge for the presidency of the ANC at the party’s five-yearly national conference at Nasrec, Johannesburg, in December 2017.
For Ramaphosa, his victory was a redemptive moment. By chance, I (Calland) found myself close to the front of the stage when the good news reached him. He looked up briefly and I looked into his eyes. What I saw was disbelief, followed by relief and unburdening joy.
I must confess that it was impossible not to be drawn into this rather public, yet also very private, moment. Here was a political leader who had risked a great deal — not least, his reputation — by agreeing to appear as deputy on Jacob Zuma’s winning slate five years before at the ANC’s last conference in Mangaung.
To say it was a hard-won and long-awaited triumph would be a great understatement. While his political CV is well known, it deserves recitation as the starting point for any consideration of his leadership. In the same way that you need to take account of the surrounding socioeconomic and political context, you need to consider the individual leader’s history, experience and record.
The stronger the credentials, the higher the expectations.
As a trade union leader in the 1980s, Ramaphosa was instrumental in founding both the National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) and the labour federation, Cosatu. In the early 1990s, he was elected secretary general of the ANC — the first of three former general secretaries of the NUM to fill that position (the others being Kgalema Motlanthe and Gwede Mantashe); chair of the Constitutional Assembly; and lead negotiator for the ANC.
At the end of the 1990s, he exited politics to embark on a lengthy sojourn in business. In December 2012, he announced his return to active politics with his election as deputy president of the ANC. Less than two years later, in May 2014, he was appointed deputy president of South Africa and head of the National Planning Commission by Zuma. Labour, business and government: there are few, if any, world leaders with this kind of multisectoral résumé.
Ramaphosa’s diverse career suggests that he is well placed to respond to the urgent needs of the age of crisis, with its numerous interdependent layers of systemic crises that require “system thinkers” able to see problems from all angles …
It is interesting to contrast the cautious, risk-averse approach Ramaphosa generally adopts now with his formidable political leadership prior to 1994. In the 1980s, he emerged as one of South Africa’s most important and powerful political leaders, with a well-earned reputation for being both robust and resolute.
Primarily, this was through his leadership in the union movement — first as general secretary of the NUM and then as one of the founders of Cosatu. He was known then for his decisive, brave leadership.
Halton Cheadle, one of the lawyers representing the NUM when Ramaphosa was the general secretary, told us that “Cyril was tough and decisive in negotiations — often outsmarting employer representatives. There were occasions in the negotiations to settle a strike when he took a hard line despite advice from his lawyers to the contrary. I think that this toughness is best illustrated in a Zapiro cartoon at the time in which Cyril has Oppenheimer by the balls saying, ‘Do I hear 6%’?”
“How do we put Cyril in all this mix?” asks Mandela’s former legal adviser, Fink Haysom, another of those “political attorneys” from the 1980s. “He was a client of mine at Cheadle, Thompson & Haysom. I think he was more adventurous in his union days than he is as a president. May have to do with the particular circumstances he finds himself in. But quite clearly, he displays a preference for consolidation before moving.
“He had a level of self-confidence as a trade union leader, which I don’t think he has as a president. He was known as a person who walked to the edge. He was a ‘precipice negotiator’. He was remarkably assisted by Roelf Meyer — the chemistry between them but also the ability to take the risk out of the negotiations.”
This presents Ramaphosa’s consultation predilection in a slightly sharper political light. It’s about managing people and problems, politically, and not just about finding a constructive way forward.
Meyer was Ramaphosa’s opposite number across the negotiating table during some crucial moments in South Africa’s tense transition to democracy in the early 1990s. While reports of a close friendship between the two are exaggerated, it was an intense three-month period in 1992 after the start of the final phase of constitutional negotiations that saw them build what Meyer says now has never been more than a very close “business relationship; we never went to each other’s homes, for example”.
Meyer remembers Ramaphosa as “a tough negotiator. He stuck to his guns in terms of his mandate from the ANC. At the same time, he was someone with whom one could build a trusted relationship. That is exactly what we managed to have. And he never broke his word or lost my trust.”
Meyer makes an interesting point that may help explain Ramaphosa’s presidential leadership: “The benefit of a negotiator is that you always have a principal — someone who makes the final decision. And part of the job of the negotiator is to persuade the principal. But you can negotiate knowing that there is a principal on top of you — FW [de Klerk] in my case. There’s always this buffer. Cyril had the same — he had a very close relationship with Mandela, as I did with De Klerk. It’s a wonderful interaction, a very dynamic one. The leader doesn’t have that. He or she is the ultimate repository.”
Another feature of the role of a negotiator is to secure the best possible deal for one interest-holder or stakeholder. Their mandate is singular, not multidimensional.
… Meyer likens Ramaphosa’s experience in business to his role as a negotiator. He was “chairing boards, but always had the benefit of a CEO. In a certain way, again he didn’t have to take the final decision — that’s how the corporate environment works. I sometimes have the feeling that he is missing that experience of the past.
“It is not as if he lacked the leadership, but since becoming president he has not been surrounded by strong people and that is unfortunately still the case. Maybe now that he gets more experienced in the position and surrounds himself with stronger people, his leadership will become stronger and clearer. At the beginning he really struggled, especially with uncertainty about who he could really trust.”
This history may explain Ramaphosa’s approach to presidential decision-making and leadership and his predilection for consensus-seeking processes and wider consultation. One of his long-term advisers sees this as a strength.
Speaking about Ramaphosa’s preference for consulting the ANC leadership, the source notes: “Of all my years in the ANC, [there’s] probably been more of that under his presidency than previous ones. It’s a style of leadership. It might frustrate us sometimes and we might want to see quicker progress, but there is value in waiting a bit, so that you can have these consultations.”
Richard Calland is a columnist with the Mail & Guardian, and an associate professor in public law at the University of Cape Town, where Mabel Sithole is also based, at the Nelson Mandela School of Public Governance.
The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Mail & Guardian.