The upside of accountability

Five years ago, after President Cyril Ramaphosa came into office on the back of an agenda of reform, the country moved into full-scale commission mode.

The systematic dismantling of key institutions that had become epicentres of corruption and incompetence had created a public governance and accountability crisis. The list of affected institutions was extensive and included strategically important organizations like Sars, Eskom, Transnet, the PIC, the NPA and SAA.

Each had a horror story to share, and the depth of the destruction was such that the prospects of recovery seemed remote.

The ordinary course of action – firing the incompetent and corrupt, and hoping for the best – could not be expected to solve the problem, particularly if deployment remained the prevailing practice.

The establishment of the various commissions inquiry – motivated by different reasons but united in the common purpose of trying to unravel the patterns of destruction – created an additional layer of insight into the affairs of the organisations.

The Nugent Commission of Inquiry, which focused on Sars, enabled us to watch a live case study of how to move an organisation from world-class standing to despair in a few years. The revelation of the complicity of state actors and private enterprises like Bain to undermine the state once again highlighted the fact that endemic corruption transcends both public and private institutions.

When the Mpati Commission of Inquiry started exploring the shenanigans at the Public Investment Corporation (PIC), the fragile nature of governance systems and the risks associated with the centralisation of power and the absence of accountability were all laid bare. While the motivation behind the inquiry may have been guided by shaky convictions of some politicians like Bantu Holomisa, the insights gathered through the process proved illuminating for all of us.

The all-encompassing mandate of the Zondo Commission of Inquiry, whose genesis may have been the question of how influential the Gupta family had become, ended up revealing extraordinary insights into the scale of malfeasance throughout the state.

The expansion of the commission’s mandate beyond tracing the tentacles of the Guptas in the state to something much broader was an accident of nefarious intentions but ultimately useful outcomes.

In the expanded scope, we were introduced to the remarkably unique business model of the Bosasa empire, the farce that once passed for governance at SAA and the remarkably lavish lifestyles of characters like Edwin Sodi and Norma Gigaba.

Out into the open …

The fundamental difference between the public inquiries and what had occurred before was the reduction in the scope to hide for those meant to act on findings and recommendations.

While various internal and parliamentary inquiries into Eskom had been undertaken before, nothing materialised after the processes were completed. The Sars internal inquiries conducted by KPMG and Advocate Muzi Sikhakhane only had follow-up actions due to the need to weaponise them against some targets, rather than reflect a drive to implement recommendations out of principle.

The Nugent, Mpati and Zondo commissions put the spotlight back onto the political principals; back on to those who must follow up on the recommendations.

Since then, the progress in addressing key issues identified has been a mixed bag.

Shine reclaimed

At Sars, the comprehensive commitment to implementation has resulted in a major turnaround for the institution.

This week, as it announced record collections on the eve of the beginning of Commissioner Edward Kieswetter’s last year in office, it left a distinct impression of an organisation whose quest to reclaim past glories and competencies, is almost complete.

The denouncing of the KPMG and Sikhakhane reports, together with the reparations made to victims of the rogue unit fallacy and the reinstatement of employees savagely sidelined by the Moyane guillotine, illustrated a commitment to accountability that is rarely seen in public institutions.

PIC isn’t there yet

In a similar vein, the PIC recently reached a settlement with Ayo relating to the most contentious investment that was debated at the Mpati Commission.

After a spirited crusade against the establishment and enemies both real and imagined during the commission’s hearings, Dr Iqbal Survé finally yielded to reality and reached a settlement of R619 million with the PIC.

While this is a shadow of the initial R4.3 billion investment made in 2017, it does come with some additional powers for the PIC – including guarantees on board representation.

Disturbingly however, in the aftermath of the abandoned litigation and the eventual settlement, both Ayo and the PIC laboured under the impression that they could keep the conditions of the settlement confidential.

The idea that a settlement process that was initiated by a public inquiry could actually be kept secret leaves one wondering about the wisdom of the PIC’s decision-makers.

The reason such follow-ups are important once commissions have concluded is that lingering reputational issues that emerge can eventually be addressed.

At the Mpati Commission, the tension and hostilities between Bantu Holomisa and Harith, made their way through almost-privileged parliamentary utterances and legal processes going all the way to the Constitutional Court.

The problem for Harith is that the Mpati commission had recommended follow-up actions rather than making decisive judgments on the allegations against the company. Since then, its primary currency – its reputation – has been the subject of eternal scepticism across the industry.

Its own fate was not assisted by the involvement in the SAA deal, the granular details of which remain remarkably oblique. This week, the forensic probe that was requested by the Mpati Commission concluded that the allegations of Holomisa, which have already been found spurious legally, are equally baseless forensically.

Accountability loop

The importance of these developments is that they close the accountability loop so prevalent in many state institutions, where matters are abandoned as soon as the public glare fades away.

While these may be good stories to tell, it is equally telling that none of the perpetrators across the various institutions have been successfully prosecuted.

The case of Jonas Makwakwa – whose predilection for unexplained cash deposits when he was an employee at Sars – remains a glaring illustration of the persistent accountability gaps that exist across the state.

The Nulane investment case involving the lieutenants of the Gupta empire is rapidly disintegrating in the hands of the NPA. Its continued lethargy on the Steinhoff case is acutely embarrassing when foreign law enforcement agencies are seen to be moving much faster and more diligently in holding former Steinhoff CEO Markus Jooste accountable.

While one may be tempted to call for a comprehensive inquiry into the capacity and capability gaps in law enforcement, it will also become important for the country to eventually wean itself off its reliance on commissions to get people to do the jobs they are paid handsomely to execute.

But until then, the ability of prosecutions agencies to step up, which has been less than impressive and has escalated the national trust deficit, will remain the most obvious failure of the project to address the country’s governance and accountability crisis.