Conflicts of Interest |
Publication | Helen Suzman Foundation |
Date | September 2001 |
Reporter | Patrick Laurence |
Web Link | www.hsf.org.za |
Opposition criticism of the arms deal is beginning to tell, says Patrick Laurence. The ANC is no longer so confident that the deal is safe from corruption or financially viable.
There are signs that the government has begun a
retreat from its earlier adamantine insistence that the R43.8 billion arms deal
is "fail-safe" against corruption. One of these signs comes from
President Thabo Mbeki himself. Though couched in cautious language, his
statement in late July subtly sounding a withdrawal is radically different in
tone from his January 12 declaration, which marked the opening of the government
offensive against the array of voices either opposed to the arms deal or
concerned about its possible contamination by corruption.
The government's shift is almost certainly a response to sustained criticism
from opposition parties and sections of civil society and, more particularly, to
media exposures identifying members of the ANC establishment who, to the
discomfort of the organisation, accepted favours from arms manufacturing
companies. Embarrassed by the disclosures, which named no less a person than the
chief of the South African National Defence Force, Siphiwe Nyanda, as the
recipient of two luxury vehicles at an appreciable discount from the European
Aeronautic Defence and Space Company (EADS), the ANC-led government may simply
feel the need to fall back to a more defensible position.
Another possibility, however, is that in a bid to salvage its reputation as a
government committed to the eradication of corruption, it may be preparing to
sacrifice one or two of the ANC notables who benefited from the generosity of
the arms manufacturing industry. It can hardly contemplate that manoeuvre while
maintaining its "fail-safe" stance. There is no hard evidence of an
imminent public washing of hands of those who have embarrassed the ANC. But two
names keep emerging when observers speculate on who might be jettisoned as
scapegoats: former defence minister Joe Modise and ANC Chief Whip Tony Yengeni,
whose acquisition of a state of the art 4x4 Mercedes at a generous discount from
DaimlerChrysler, which later became a component of EADS, has long been a talking
point.
In his statement to the media in late July, after he and his ministers had
completed their three-day lekgotla, Mbeki announced that the cabinet had decided
to "examine ways of tightening up regulations dealing with the probity of
officials involved especially in the negotiation of large contracts". The
arms deal - or, as government refers to it, the strategic defence package - is
the largest single deal signed by the ANC-led government and logically qualifies
for inclusion within the ambit of Mbeki's announcement.
Any doubt about whether Mbeki's statement alluded to the arms deal was removed
by his response to a question from one of the journalists at the briefing. Asked
whether the anti-corruption measures he had referred to were prompted by the
current investigation into the arms deal, Mbeki replied: "Indeed part of
what we are saying arose out of some of the allegations that are being made
around the defence acquisition. Even if the allegations (are) proved not to be
true . . . the issues that are being raised are relevant and therefore we need
to attend to them." Nothing in Mbeki's statement suggested that the issue
would no longer be relevant if the allegations proved to be true. On the
contrary, they implied that substantiation of the allegations would give them
greater relevancy.
Mbeki had earlier indirectly linked the proposed anti-corruption regulations to
the arms deal. Having stipulated that the regulations would apply to cabinet
ministers as well as government officials involved in the negotiation of
"large contracts", Mbeki told journalists: "The cabinet was of
the view that it might very well not be correct . . . where a minister who works
in a particular portfolio, leaves and then joins the private sector in an area
of that portfolio and most likely with people who got some tenders in that
sector while he/she was a minister." Several journalists deduced that Mbeki
was referring to Modise, justifiably, as the presidential remarks described the
former defence minister's position with uncanny, and perhaps deliberate,
accuracy.
Modise, who signed a contract with a German consortium for the supply of three
submarines three days before retiring and before the department of finance had
completed its affordability study, is today a businessman with links to the
armaments industry. He is the chairman of Conlog holdings, a company which has
links through its subsidiary, Logtek, with Futuristic Business Solutions (FBS),
which has been - to quote Noseweek - "awarded the logistics contracts for
virtually every programme in the defence package". FBS, which is led by
Modise's former comrade-in-arms during the struggle against apartheid, Lambert
Moloi, is in turn linked to African Defence Systems, a partial subsidiary of
Thompson CSF, the French armaments company. Thompson is a member of the
consortium that was awarded the contract to provide the SA Navy with four
corvettes.
Modise has emerged as a businessman poised to exploit the opportunities for
enrichment in the Coega project, an ambitious scheme to develop a deep-water
port at Coega, about 20km from Port Elizabeth, and an industrialised development
zone (IDZ) around it. His connection with the Coega project is twofold. When he
signed the submarine deal in mid-1999, he revived (unrealised) hopes that Coega
would attract international investors. Since then a company in which he figures
as chairman and shareholder, Khuthele Projects, has been awarded a contract to
conduct an integrated transportation study for Coega. Thus, once again, Modise
in his new role emerges as, at the least, a potential beneficiary of a decision
that he took while the political head of a powerful ministry.
Ray Hartle, communications manager of the Coega Development Corporation (CDC),
has attempted to clear Modise of suspicions of skulduggery. He accuses those who
question the probity of the Modise connection - most notably Colm Allan, of the
Public Service Accountability Monitor (PSAM) at Rhodes University - of being
disingenuous. He states that Modise acquired shares in, and became chairman of,
Khuthele Projects only after it was awarded the contract. He gives no dates and
seems to rely heavily on broad ex-cathedra statements about the established
procedures of tendering.
But, even assuming that his chronology is accurate, it is possible that Khuthele
Projects was awarded the contract because the CDC knew that Modise was going to
invest in it. The chairman of CDC is Moss Ngoasheng, immediate past economic
adviser to Mbeki and thus a man who moved in the same upper ANC circles as
Modise. Raenette Taljaard, Democratic Alliance (DA) spokesperson on the arms
deal, is not satisfied with Hartle's explanation. She has written to Auditor
General Shauket Fakie asking him to investigate suspected irregularities
relating to Coega. The questionable practices include reports that the CDC does
not have the legally-required IDZ operator permit, which it should have applied
for as part of "a competitive tendering process". Taljaard's letter
specifically asks Fakie to scrutinise the roles of Modise and Ngoasheng in the
Coega project. Fakie, whose office is one of the three state agencies involved
in the arms deal probe, states in his reply: "I believe the issue of the
Coega Development Corporation would probably require a special investigation of
its own. I am busy seeking legal opinion as to whether I have the legal mandate
to look into Coega's affairs."
Even if Coega is discounted pending further investigation, the nexus between
Modise in his post-political entrepreneurial identity and the armaments industry
seems irrefutable. Modise's dismissal of those who expose the links and ask
questions about them as the peddlers of "lies and gossip" comes across
as defensive bluster. He fits the description of an ex-minister who has moved
into an area as an entrepreneur where he was active as a minister. That area is
now frequented by people who benefited from tenders awarded while he was in
government. United Democratic Front leader Bantu Holomisa minces no words as he
points an accusing finger at Modise: "He is benefiting, his company is
benefiting and his associates are benefiting."
If Modise is a potential sacrificial candidate as the ANC-led government seeks
to dissociate itself from the suspected malfeasance of public office bearers,
Yengeni is another. According to a front-page report in the Sunday Independent,
Yengeni is the butt of bitter jokes about "4x4" leaders in ANC ranks
at branch level and among former Umkhonto we Sizwe foot soldiers. During the
debate on the motion of confidence in the Speaker, Frene Ginwala, in June,
Holomisa memorably described him as one of those who said "Viva!" on
Saturday and took a 4x4 on Monday. Yengeni is feeling the heat, judging by the
full-page advertisements he took out in selected newspapers in July setting out
how he acquired a luxury ML 4x4 Mercedes Benz in 1998 at a generous discount
from DaimlerChrysler Aerospace.
Two arguments are central to his attempted self-exoneration: his contentions
that the discount was a routine one, no different from those offered to the
ordinary public by vehicle manufacturers, and that it was nowhere near the
reported 47 per cent of the purchase price as the vehicle had been damaged. If
the vehicle was indeed damaged, it is not clear why Yengeni did not say so
before. His advertisement does not explain why he waited more than four months
before stating his case. Nor does it explain why, specifically, he did not offer
a full exposition of how he acquired the vehicle when the matter was raised in
Parliament and when he was invited to do so before the parliamentary ethics
committee, instead of opting merely to declare his innocence. His explanation
does not refute the initial report in the Sunday Times that, at the least, he
had free use of the vehicle for seven months before he started to pay for it.
Nor does his explanation convincingly disprove allegations that he only entered
into a finance agreement when his acquisition of a car normally valued at,
according to his own reckoning, R314,000, became a talking point in
parliamentary corridors. Yengeni's advertisement provoked another round of
awkward questions about whether he paid for the advertisements himself or
whether a benefactor or benefactors paid for them.
More questions lie ahead: if he paid for them, the estimated cost of R250,000
raises the question of how he could afford to spend more than half his annual
salary of just over R400,000 when, by his own admission, he was still paying off
the 4x4 and, in all probability, the house he purchased in Cape Town in 1996. If
he did not, who gave or lent him the money and why? After an initial and, some
would add, thunderous silence, during which the ANC denied that it had paid for
the ads, Yengeni opted for an imprecise answer - "friends", he
replied, before relapsing into stonewalling mode. Another question was put to
him: while he had attempted to explain his acquisition of the 4x4, why did he
remain silent about the Mercedes cars also acquired by his wife and his
expatriate Congolese woman friend? In the meantime, the riposte to his
advertisement from Douglas Gibson, DA chief whip, went unanswered. Responding to
Yengeni's claim that the discount he received was a standard discount available
to the public, Gibson asked what member of the public qualified for a discount
from an arms manufacturer? Gibson also commented on Yengeni's statement that as
chairman of the parliamentary portfolio committee on defence - a post he held in
1998 - he had not been in a position to influence the arms deal. If that was so,
Yengeni and his committee had "totally abrogated their oversight
function" on behalf of taxpayers, Gibson said.
Dealing with the argument that the procurement of weapons for the arms deal was
so complicated a process that no one individual was able to determine what
should be acquired, at what cost and from whom, Noseweek makes a pertinent
point. "EADS . . . didn't rely on one (individual). They offered
inducements to a whole spectrum of people who were jointly in a position to
influence the outcome." Yengeni apart, beneficiaries include Nyanda,
Armscor chairman Ron Haywood, Llew Swan, co-chairperson with "Chippy"
Shaik of the strategic offers committee, and Vivan Pillay, who led the team
negotiating the industrial offsets with arms manufacturers tendering for
contracts.
The DA's Taljaard attaches particular importance to Pillay's acceptance of the
discount, presumably because he was in better position to influence decisions
than most, if not all, of his co-recipients of EADS' generosity. But Shaik is
arguably just as important a figure. As chairman of the arms procurement
committee he was strategically situated to nudge the process towards one company
rather than another. His neutrality has already been questioned in Parliament's
standing committee on public accounts (Scopa) and in the media. Those questions
arise from the award of sub-contracts to African Defence Systems (ADS), of which
his brother Shabir Shaik is a director. Chippy Shaik says that he recused
himself when his brother's company was involved. The Mail & Guardian,
however, has published extracts from minutes of a meeting relating to the combat
suite for the corvettes ordered by the South African navy, an issue in which ADS
had an interest. The minutes show that, far from recusing himself, Shaik chaired
the meeting and participated in the discussions. The decision went in favour of
Detexis, a sister company of ADS, at the expense of the original preferred
bidder, the Cape Town firm CCII. All of which means that Shaik, like Modise,
might be an embarrassment to the government and its assurance that the
procurement process was "fail-safe" against malfeasance.
For the moment, though, the spotlight is on Yengeni. The ANC national
executive's appointment of a special 22-member committee to oversee party
activities in Parliament indicates that Yengeni may have lost the confidence of
the national leadership. Gibson sees it as a simultaneous "motion of
no-confidence in the government chief whip and a power grab by the
executive".
If it is another move to centralise power at the expense of Yengeni, there is an
element of irony. Yengeni cracked the party whip to bring ANC members on Scopa
back into line. Since then they have put party political interests ahead of
their obligation to taxpayers to act as independent watchdogs over government
expenditure on the arms deal. In a move which has Stalinist undertones, they
have even rewritten the fourteenth Scopa report. It now supports the ANC's line
that the committee did not agree to a multi-agency investigation into the arms
deal that included the special investigating unit (SIU) then still headed by
Judge Willem Heath.
Ironically, too, the newly appointed head of the SIU, Willie Hofmeyr, has mooted
the need in South Africa for the legal equivalent of the Hong Kong Ordinance of
1970. The ordinance states government officials, past and present, who maintain
a standard of living which is above that commensurate with their "official
emoluments" shall be guilty of an offence unless they can provide a
satisfactory explanation. That Hofmeyr should place this option on the table as
the multi-agency investigation into the arms deal comes to a close is unlikely
to be coincidental. He is also the head of the Asset Forfeiture Unit and the
deputy director of the National Directorate for Public Prosecutions. He may be
hinting that some people who were involved in the arms deal owe the public an
explanation and that future government ministers or officials who live above
their means should be obliged to explain how they acquired their wealth.
Many opposition politicians assume, and some leaders in civil society fear, that
the multi-agency investigation into the arms deal may be less than thorough or
perhaps even part of an official cover-up. Perhaps their misgivings are not
totally warranted. They do not take account of the integrity of people such as
Hofmeyr or the possibility that the investigation may have acquired a momentum
of its own which the men at the top cannot control, even if they wanted too. The
investigators may have unearthed evidence that they cannot or will not hide. The
ANC's political leaders may be preparing public opinion for a few shocks when
their findings are published and for the sacrifice of a few scapegoats.
The public hearings on the arms deal, held under the auspices of the Public
Protector Selby Baqwa, were widely interpreted as a public relations exercise
aimed at restoring national confidence in the arms procurement process. Thus the
first witness, Vice Admiral Robert Simpson of the SA Navy, defended the
controversial idea that counter-trade or offset defence and industrial
investments would pay for the arms deal. Simpson even praised Modise as an
"outstanding visionary" who was responsible for promoting the
controversial notion of offsets.
But the same public hearings were the forum for admissions that increased rather
than decreased scepticism over the arms deal. Roland White, a former senior
official in the department of finance now working for the World Bank in
Washington, admitted that the calculations on which the cost-escalation formulas
were based might have been insufficiently researched. When it was put to him
that "no research" had been done on the formulas, he replied: "In
my personal opinion, your view is probably a fair one." That contradicted
government assurances that the deal would not impose too severe a burden on the
fiscus, assurances that rested in part on the improbable assumption that offsets
worth R104 billion would accrue to South Africa from the arms deal and generate
65,000 jobs.
Terry Crawford-Browne, of Economists Allied for Arms Reduction, highlighted the
improbability of the assumption on which offset hopes rested in his submission
to the hearing. It implied, wrote Crawford-Browne, that the way to generate
wealth was to spend vast sums on sophisticated weaponry. If that was so, the
solution to Third World poverty was for those countries to spend their meagre
resources on arms, a manifestly absurd thesis.
White's admission removed a lynch-pin from the carefully assembled government
propaganda exercise justifying the arms expenditure, even though he tried to
qualify it later. Warnings had been issued before about the danger of sharply
escalating costs. The affordability report by the department of finance said:
"The sums involved are extremely large; they involve fixed contractual
commitments extending over long periods with high breakage costs . . ."
Unhappily for government the affordability report contained a disturbing
scenario of a declining rand and, consequently, a rising arms bill. It forecast
that the rand-dollar exchange rate would be R9.6 to the dollar in 2002-4 and
that it would reach R22.8 by 2017. On the hoped for counter-trade investments
the report came to a sombre conclusion: they could not be guaranteed. As early
as September 1999 the Auditor General reached a similar conclusion in his
special review: "All bidders with whom contracts have been finalised had to
sign performance guarantees as regards their NIP (National Industrial
Participation) commitments. I am of the opinion that the guarantees . . . may be
inadequate to ensure delivery of the NIP commitments."
In selling the arms package to the electorate, government spokemen chose to
ignore the warnings contained in the affordability report and, instead, to
stress the supposed advantages of the offset investments. The Institute for a
Democratic South Africa criticised it for this in its review of the arms deal
published in May.
Until recently government was supremely confident of the viability of the deal.
It also believed that it was "fail-safe" against corruption at the
level of primary contracts between its arms procurement committee and the arms
manufacturers. Its confidence verged on arrogance, which rubbed off onto the ANC
in Parliament. Scopa's records of the time its members spent studying the
relevant arms deal documents show that Andries Nel, one of the new members
appointed after the January 2001 reshuffling of ANC representatives, did not
bother to examine the records at all. Another new ANC representative, Vincent
Smith, who is co-head of the ANC study group on Scopa, spent a mere 25 minutes
skim-reading a few pages of the huge pile of documentation.
There are signs that ANC confidence may be waning. Replying to a question from
Taljaard in Parliament, Mbeki's acknowledged that government fully recognises
the "risks identified in the affordability report". He also implicitly
admitted that the first four to five years of the contract could be financially
negative. The government appears to have begun preparing defensive lines beyond
contingency plans to phase in the costs to avoid too heavy a burden in any one
year and, if necessary, to cancel the second and third tranches of the contract
to buy fighter aircraft. Where former deputy defence minister Ronnie Kasrils
once asserted that South Africa does not have to choose between guns and butter
because it can afford both, government spokesmen no longer indulge in that kind
of extravagant boasting.
With acknowledgement to the Patrick Laurence and The Helen Suzman Foundation.