Commentators say Justice Minister Penuell Maduna's decision to not make himself available for reselection as a cabinet minister makes him the first high-profile victim of the Zuma affair. In fact, he is by no means the first; he is just the latest.

The allegations that Deputy President Jacob Zuma became embroiled in corruption charges facing Durban businessman Schabir Shaik form only a small part of the broader calamity now known popularly as "the arms deal".

Even the most fleeting examination of the history of this R40bn arms procurement exercise reveals that it has cut a swathe of devastation through public institutions with all the delicacy of an average tropical cyclone. It has torn through such illustrious institutions as the office of the auditor-general, the office of the public protector and the national directorate of public prosecutions and has now hit the justice department .

Parliament's standing committee on public accounts, once one of the most dynamic oversight committees in Parliament, has been deserted by its chairman and key members from both government and the opposition.

This is not even to mention the effect the arms deal has had on the personal reputations of a huge range of people, from Shaik to several highly regarded MPs, Scorpions boss Bulelani Ngcuka, and Zuma. Fairly or unfairly, the office of the auditor-general stands charged with producing a report on the procurement exercise that did not sufficiently call those responsible for its many shortcomings to account.

The public protector, whose constitutional function is even more explicitly to expose corruption than the auditorgeneral, stands similarly charged.

The national directorate of public prosecutions has been weakened by charges that it has developed a "Hollywood style" of investigating crimes and that it allowed it to be known that Zuma was being investigated, but then was ultimately unable to bring charges.

The justice department has also been weakened, obviously by the decision of its minister to throw in the towel, but also seemingly by a lack of public support from the presidency.

And the office of the presidency has been weakened by a perception that President Thabo Mbeki lacks a decisive edge, and has failed to halt the squabbling in his own cabinet effectively.

Why did this happen? Simply because the arms deal is so controversial and the procurement process so procedurally flawed that it has placed all the actors in the drama in a dilemma. Either they support the party, further their own careers and turn a blind eye to the obvious problems with this fabulously expensive and morally dubious exercise, or they act according to their consciences and thereby necessarily infuriate and frustrate powerful interests within the ruling party.

The process is rather similar to the old adage that tough cases make bad law. Acts of ambiguous probity anywhere within government stress all the institutions of government that are affected by their passing. Otherwise honourable people are forced to make impossible choices between their own futures and the integrity of the institutions they run.

Most often they attempt to cut a middle path, in an obvious but most often feeble attempt to satisfy both sides.

So, just to take a single example, Auditor-General Shauket Fakie had a choice about whether to criticise or condemn the fact that the former head of procurement for the South African National Defence Force, Chippy Shaik, did not rec use himself properly when decisions were made allocating parts of the arms deal contract to his brother's company.

In the end, what emerged was a report that simply pointed out this fact, with minimal comment. But it failed to go on to make the obvious recommendation that this part of the contract should have been cancelled and put out to tender again.

There are many other examples where there has been a recognition of procedural or even moral failings, but where these failings have not been acted on decisively . Yet, as so often transpires, a failure to act escalates the problem until the initiative is lost. Then, when action is forced, the response is potentially doomed before it starts because it is seen as a defensive act.

So it may yet prove in the "Zuma saga" with the establishment of the Hefer commission , which is curiously aimed at asking questions about the actions of the accusers rather than of the accused.

The establishment of a commission is, in a formal sense, usually aimed at providing a structured setting in which to adjudicate a claim, and the Hefer commission is no exception. But from a political perspective, this particular commission starts work from a difficult premise. It must surely have been established to cauterise an increasingly dangerous fractiousness threatening to cause insurmountable rifts between senior cabinet members.

This is the real significance of Maduna's decision to bow out; it demonstrates there is truth to the obvious suspicion that the "Zuma saga" is causing the cabinet to misfire. Yet, it is just a fact of life that commissions often do not do much more than confirm existing suspicions .

The Hefer commission may make some astounding discoveries, and it is to be hoped that it will declare unequivocally who is lying and who is telling the truth. But much more is needed if the newly established institutions of SA's democracy are to be re-established as worthy of public trust.

This is not impossible. It is heartening that after initially refusing to have anything to do with the Zuma saga, public protector Lawrence Mushwana has decided to investigate claims that Zuma breached the Executive Ethics Code.

The key here is to do what the initial investigations did not do: grasp the nettle. Every weak report creates less public confidence, which creates an ever-increasing cycle of failure. Every strong report does the opposite. The key is to have leadership that recognises and appreciates the difference.

With acknowledgements to Tim Cohen and the Business Day.