President Cyril Ramaphosa and his detractors in the so-called “Progressive Caucus” sit on opposite sides of the parliamentary aisle, glaring at each other, even though they have more in common than either may care to admit. Most obviously, the President heads a rump ANC, a party regarding itself as South Africa’s liberation movement, while the mainstays of the Caucus – uMkhonto weSizwe and the Economic Freedom Fighters – claim to be the rightful heirs to that tradition.
This relationship promises an interesting dynamic in our politics, less an alternative to the path the ANC has followed than a restatement of it. This is apparent in the question of property rights.
Speaking in Parliament recently, MK party leader in the National Assembly, Dr John Hlophe, called for Section 25 of the Constitution to be amended to facilitate Expropriation without Compensation. This reflected the commitments made in the MK manifesto, and in that of the EFF too.
This should sound familiar. Arguably no issue has loomed larger and more consistently over South African politics over the past seven years than EWC and its implications. Framed in an idiom of land reform, this was hyped as the tool to deal with the “land question”, a matter with deep historical resonance. “Expropriation without Compensation” was even named “word of the year” (a misnomer, as it is a phrase) by the Pan South African Language Board.
President Ramaphosa boldly declared EWC a policy that would be relentlessly pursued, that would resolve an historical injustice and would be a catalyst for an economic quantum leap. EWC, he once declared, would turn South Africa into a “Garden of Eden”.
Our people
It was also something that South Africa’s people – or rather “our people” – demanded, according to the ANC’s narrative.
The EWC drive that kicked off at the end of 2017 pursued its aims via several avenues. The first was to amend Section 25. As amending the Constitution is always a weighty matter, and this was the first attempt to interfere with the Bill of Rights, this became a flagship of sorts. This would, in a sense, change the paradigm of property rights and the approach to landholding. And perhaps more than anything, it would send a political signal: the final reckoning with the colonial legacy was now at hand.
As the President said in May 2018: “We are going to take land and when we take land we are going to take it without compensation.”
The proposed constitutional amendment failed when the ANC was unable to marshal a two-thirds majority in December 2021, when it went before the National Assembly.
Accompanying the proposed constitutional change was, secondly, the introduction of new legislation and regulations. These included regulations to govern the work of the Valuer General, the Land Court Act and most importantly, the Expropriation Bill. Each of these was intended to increase the state’s discretion in taking property, while reducing the costs for which it would be liable in so doing.
These measures attracted considerably less attention, but were just as consequential. They may have lacked the high symbolism of a move on the Constitution, but provided the actual tools and legal infrastructure for seizing property. And as they could be pushed through with a simple parliamentary majority or through ministerial determination, the ANC was able to do so before the election. Aside from the Expropriation Bill – which awaits the President’s signature – these laws are now on the books.
Custodian
Essentially what MK and its allies are demanding is that the first element of the drive be revived. Both MK and the EFF seek to eliminate the very idea of property rights in land by vesting it all in the state as “custodian”. This has the dual attraction of placing an important source of power and patronage in the hands of the state that the Progressive Caucus hopes to inherit, and the symbolic value of signalling radicalism in depriving the putative oppressors of their property. Over the few years, this option also had the support of a number of influential figures in the ANC and in the state.
The Progressive Caucus lacks the numbers to force a constitutional amendment. Without state power it cannot move to use the various legal mechanisms that are available.
But it does have a certain power of political suasion. Its narrative has been that the GNU represents the interests of “White Monopoly Capital” – a phrase fusing the ideas of national and class-based oppression – and that the ANC has betrayed its history and forfeited the right to claim to be a liberation movement.
Accusation
For the ANC, this is likely to be a grating accusation. EWC was, after all, an issue on which President Ramaphosa staked an enormous amount of his political capital from his accession to both party and state office.
For those in the ANC sceptical of the GNU, EWC could also function as a wedge issue in the relationship, one that the Progressive Caucus will be eager to exploit. Its members will push the ANC on this. So far, the ANC has rejected (somewhat ironically) the demand. While land reform must continue, Secretary General Fikile Mbalula has said reasonably enough, a constitutional amendment is not necessary.
He has, however, not ruled out an amendment in future, though as long as the GNU holds, this is unlikely. The presence of the PAC in the GNU, holding the land portfolio, does however add a complicating dimension, especially since Minister Mzwanele Nyhontso has confirmed that he will press for a constitutional amendment.
EWC, though, is back, bringing with it the politics that has exercised such influence over the past several years, overlain on the fragile GNU arrangements.
Stresses between the market-friendly pragmatists in the GNU, and the fellow travellers who are uncommitted to such a direction, will over time push the ANC to decide on a clear direction. Ultimately this will come down to a choice between constitutionalism and economic growth, or of ideology and the heady excitement of historical nostalgia.
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