Is being leader of the DA the most unenviable job in South Africa? 

Tony Leon had the unenviable task of not merely opposing Nelson Mandela, in terms of political capital the richest politician in the world for his one-term presidency, but also of standing opposite Thabo Mbeki at a time of socio-economic progress. 

Against the backdrop of a rising economic tide, even as something as infamous as the Arms Deal couldn’t give credence to the warnings from Leon, of course backed up by my vigilant predecessors at the IRR, that cadre deployment and race-based policies like BEE were tilling the soil for the seeds of corruption and harvest of state capture. In a portent of things to come, Leon was also, according to incorrigible critics, too right-wing and too left-wing at the same time.

For Helen Zille, it was a combination of criticism for leading her party from outside Parliament, as a mayor then as a premier, and also for being an early critic of Jacob Zuma. To perhaps an even greater extent than Leon, Zille became drenched in newsprint ink for being not left enough and not right enough. Then it was because she was simply not black enough. And against Zuma’s smiling disposition, Zille’s Germanism was sour to the ANC’s leader’s sweet.

As the party foolishly shifted its footing from the liberal legacy of non-racialism to the progressive stance of multi-racialism: an ill-fated experiment with what could be called ‘capable racism’, Zille fell into the same trap as Roelf Meyer whose failed roadshow to find a black leader for the NP reduced whatever credibility he might have gained from sitting across Cyril Ramaphosa in the constitutional negotiations. Yet, the consensus at the top of the DA, two decades into the new South Africa, was that the DA needed its own black leader. There was an awkward flirtation with Mamphela Ramphele, the hollow presidential nomination of Joe Seremane, the early bloom and blundering implosion of Lindiwe Mazibuko, and, finally, the synthetic rise of Mmusi Maimane to party leader, first in parliament in 2014, then overall in 2015.

Anointed perhaps for his skin colour, a young, impressionable Maimane bought into the lie that the DA should play and could win the ANC’s rigged race game. The party, Maimane was told, could maintain its white voters, the 1992 ‘yes’ voters who became the 1999 ‘fight back’ voters, whilst buying into the early-version ideas of critical race theory: the idea that society consists of nothing less than a concerted agenda to elevate white people and oppress black people. At first, things seemed to be going okay. Not even a fire pool could douse the flames eating away at the Zuma presidency in 2016, and the DA rose to an astounding 27% vote share nationally. However, in the 2019 election, after almost four years of Maimane as the banner man of the illiberal multi-racialism crusade in the DA, it all just became a bit much for those alienated by the experimental race-based project. For the first time in its history, the DA regressed at the polls, the FF+ being the most obvious beneficiary of the DA’s flirtation with race-based politicking.

Looking back, one feels sympathy for Maimane. He wasn’t ready for the job, but the cellophane wrapping was pierced and the microwave set on high to dash-cook him into readiness. In his leadership team, he was associated with an unwise concoction of yes-men, racialists, and the naive view that the ANC’s biggest problem was corruption, rather than the underlying diseases of race-rigged cadre-driven centralisation of state power. The attempt to racially square the non-racial circle of the DA’s history failed. It tried making Maimane too black to really accommodate non-racialism, whilst attempts to pay lip service to non-racialism made his blackness-based appeals seem disingenuous.

Maimane was replaced by John Steenhuisen who suffered from the skin condition of not pleasing the newly emboldened multi-racialists in his own party, nor the more open racialists outside it. The party’s retreat to the ideological position of non-racialism following Steenhuisen’s becoming leader was largely driven by Gwen Ngwenya, the party’s policy head at the time. Yet, predictably, Steenhuisen and Zille, on a political comeback, the newly elected federal chair of the party, the equivalent of the ANC secretary general, were identified as the main right-wingers that had recaptured the DA for alleged white interests.

A much-publicised ‘black exodus’ saw the end of Maimane’s leadership. His departure was followed by that of Herman Mashaba, Phumzile van Damme, Mbali Ntuli, John Moodey, and others. However, for some reason, the ‘white exodus’ happening at the same time received mysteriously little coverage. One hardly heard of the departures or resignations of Paul Boughey, Athol Trollip or Michael Beaumont and a handful of others as being indicative of some race-collective unhappiness with the party post-Maimane. Perhaps this might have illustrated the fact that the changing of leadership was an issue of party direction, rather than racial displacement. But whoever might have been holding their breath for objective reporting on this – well, my condolences to their surviving loved ones.

Yet, the perception had momentum: the DA had turned its back on black people and was collapsing. The loss of support in 2019 dumped the party into something of a PTSD mental state. Funders were pulling funding, angry over the clear wastage of their contributions to a support-losing election campaign, and under pressure from the popular perception that the DA was imploding. The resulting financial shock treatment to the party saw three rounds of staff layoffs, a massive blow to party morale. In a very real sense, Steenhuisen’s job as leader, with the 2021 local government elections and the 2024 national and provincial elections looming, was arguably a worse position than any that his predecessors had to face – politically, financially, ideologically. And yet, sympathy wasn’t in notable supply.

Taken against this background, the result of 2024, growing by a painful 1% point from 2019, was quite an achievement for Steenhuisen – especially given the new threats to the DA’s support from ASA, though this ended up less consequential, and the PA, whose 4 000% growth from 2019 to 2024 was one of the remarkable achievements of the 2024 campaign. In view of his having set as the pillars of his leadership mission the exclusion of a “doomsday coalition” of the ANC-MK-EFF type, the founding of a multi-party pre-election bloc, and the leading of his party into a coalition government at national level, it is striking how negative the judgement on Steenhuisen’s leadership of the DA has been.

Now, unquestionably, he has made mistakes – and I’m not talking here about the grave sins of a facial expression or an off-colour joke on a podcast. The two mistakes that have most damaged the DA leader have been mistakes not of overall strategy where he is three for three in terms of political objectives, but the mundane and oft-underestimated issue of party management.

Firstly, there’s been the question of his own ministerial staff, after his appointment as the GNU’s minister for agriculture. This has received ample news coverage, though limited political analysis of at least intended objectivity. There are real political consequences for Steenhuisen, and by implication for the DA, in this mistake.

Secondly, there is the issue that has simmered in the DA since the GNU’s founding, particularly in the party’s parliamentary caucus, over the decision to promote to cabinet what has been described to me as “only Steenhuisen loyalists”. Whatever their individual merits, the six DA cabinet ministers are close allies of the DA leader.

Leon Schreiber at home affairs has served as Steenhuisen’s de facto co-chief of staff since being appointed the leader’s chief strategic advisor. Siviwe Gwarube at basic education was previously the DA caucus chief whip appointed by Steenhuisen. The role of a party chief whip has been described as many things, yet it is a truth acknowledged in parliamentary democracies the world over that there are few relationships as crucial as that between party leader and chief whip, the latter being responsible for party discipline and keeping the caucus leader informed of sentiment amongst MPs.

Dean MacPherson is perceived as a provincial long-time ally of Steenhuisen. They are both from KwaZulu-Natal, and Dion George, having led Steenhuisen’s opposition on finance matters, the most important shadow cabinet portfolio, is similarly close to the leader. Solly Malatsi, minister for communications and digital technologies, was appointed party spokesman under Steenhuisen in 2022, serving in that role until joining cabinet.

Now, it is critical to point out that none of these ministers have given any reason over the last 100 days to indicate that they are not up to their jobs. In fact, on the whole, as evidenced by recent SRF polling on public satisfaction with the DA’s performance in government, there is every reason to mark their time in charge of their respective portfolio rather positively. Yet, with the appointment of his own ministerial team, and joined in cabinet by close party allies, Steenhuisen has missed two crucial opportunities to use party management to his advantage.

When Ronald Reagan appointed James Baker as his chief of staff over Ed Meese, it was not only a surprise that angered Reagan’s conservative inner circle within the Republican Party, but it was also a shrewd display of party management. Nothing isolates as cruelly as leadership, and Reagan drew into the highest position of his White House staff not only someone from a different wing of the party, but also someone from a previously antagonistic camp.  Baker, after all, had led the campaign of George H.W. Bush in the race for the 1980 Republican nomination. The decision to appoint Baker could have gone horribly wrong – Baker could have been a saboteur rather than becoming, as he did, one of the most impressive and consequential chiefs of staff the White House has ever seen. Reagan and his battleaxe of a wife, Nancy, read Baker right and saw in him a team player.

In the appointment of his own ministerial office team, Steenhuisen’s biggest error wasn’t the ones he’d picked in critical roles like chief of staff, but the ones he hadn’t. Much has been said of the qualifications of Steenhuisen’s team, and, to be frank, most of it has been nonsense. As anyone from the political world could tell you, it is by no means formal qualifications that enable someone to be an effective operative for a minister. Having worked with some folks chosen to be in Steenhuisen’s team, their formal appointments having been rather cynically and politically sabotaged in blatant attempts by ANC interests to weaken the DA leader’s position, I can vouch for the collective skills present in the team, even if these are uncodified by appropriate certification.

Yet, the DA has a raft of loyal and effective staff and representatives who could have stepped into the role of something like chief of staff with aplomb – and with repercussions on a political level. Had Steenhuisen appreciated the underlying political capital to be earned from appointing his staff, he would have been well-advised to find his own James Baker. In contrast, and in addition to the perception that he’d appointed favourites to join him in cabinet, Steenhuisen has risked further isolation from a party that he must now lead, alongside his full-time ministerial job.

Steenhuisen would now incur great damage were he to act to remove any cabinet colleague. There is nothing he can do to reverse any error in promoting from within his perceived inner circle. The appointment of a second group of ministerial staff is under way, with some key positive indications of lessons having been learnt. Steenhuisen has also appointed George Michalakis to step into the caucus chief whip position – a good appointment. Yet, the risk Steenhuisen cannot ignore is the question of his own ability to lead and keep united his parliamentary party – and how his isolation could damage his leadership and complicate the DA’s smooth political functioning in Parliament and the GNU. Rumours of concerns over Steenhuisen’s performance so far as a minister would do well to be channeled into support for the party leader. Whatever his critics might think, Steenhuisen’s success at this stage is the party’s own.

There is no denying that the DA’s least visible cabinet member has been the party’s leader. This has, of course, largely been the result of deliberate sabotage by highly-placed civil servants clearly loyal to the ANC. Yet, it has also been the result of the avoidable isolation Steenhuisen has imposed on himself. The party would do well to ensure its leader is well-equipped and well-supported as he recovers from a rocky start. 

Steenhuisen’s position is not terminal, yet he risks a fatal erosion of his position, to the detriment of his party, were he not to gain his ministerial footing. Yet, he cannot allow the issue of party management to slip from his radar. His caucus needs to see him give direction and his chief whip needs to know that feedback from the caucus will be taken seriously and acted on. Failing these, Steenhuisen’s relationships with his MPs will deteriorate, leading to disunity and grudge matches. Besides the management of his parliamentary caucus, Steenhuisen would be wise to have proactive scouting going on from his ministerial team for opportunities to empower a few operatives from outside his wing of the DA.

The current DA leader, while no longer leader of the opposition, is facing the type of challenges that make even the intense pressures on his predecessors look quite tame. 

Not only is he facing his own mix of all the nonsense that got thrown at everyone from Leon to Maimane, not only must he labour full-time to become a successful minister in an important portfolio, Steenhuisen also faces the most serious party-management risks since the NNP’s huffy departure from the DA, to go and die in the arms of the ANC. 

An unmanaged party risks enraging and empowering the butchers. Steenhuisen urgently needs quite a few Bakers.

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Hermann Pretorius studied law and opera before entering politics and, latterly, joining the IRR as an analyst. He is presently the IRR’s Head of Strategic Communication. He describes himself as a Protestant, landless, Anglophilic, Afrikaans classical liberal.