The law on white-collar crime has been shaped by politicians' and fraudsters' desire to drive Mercedes-Benz cars.

Up to 1999, white-collar crime was mostly punished by South African courts in a way - as the Supreme Court of Appeal described it - "that made the game seem worth the candle".

Judges and magistrates often justified light sentences by saying white-collar crime was non-violent. They said that offenders were not true "criminals" or prison material. They often cited perpetrators' respectable histories and backgrounds as a reason to keep them out of prison.

In 1998, minimum sentences of up to 15 years were introduced by law for white-collar crimes where more than R500 000 was involved.

A steady increase in sentences followed.

Even before that, some judges said that white-collar crime had become a cancer in society, but courts still lacked a uniform heavy-handedness in handing down prison sentences for fraud.

Norm

It was only in 1999 that the Supreme Court of Appeal fixed the norm that it was up to the judiciary to crush the notion that white-collar criminals could defraud and steal, stash the money somewhere off-shore, take their light punishment and start the rest of their lives.

It was in the case of Bradley Sadler, a senior manager at NBS Corporate Bank, that they said enough was enough. Among his many other crimes, Sadler also falsified a document in exchange for a Mercedes-Benz.

He received a fine and 1 000 hours of community service in the Durban High Court, but then the KwaZulu-Natal director of public prosecutions appealed and appeal judge Robin Marais said that it was time to throw down the gauntlet to white-collar criminals.

"These are heresies and empty generalisations," he said about the excuses so often cited to keep fraudsters out of prison.

Mistake

Marais stressed that it was a mistake to think that prison was a place for violent criminals and not for people from respectable backgrounds.

He said that the courts had nothing to gain by lending credence to these (old) beliefs.

"The impression that (white-collar) crime... is not regarded by the courts as seriously beyond the pale and will probably not be visited with rigorous punishment will cause more people to be tempted to indulge in it," Marais said, before sentencing Sadler to four years in prison.

A year later another former politician, Allan Boesak, approached the Constitutional Court, saying that he would be deprived of his right to freedom if he went to prison for defrauding and stealing from the Foundation for Peace and Justice.

The Constitutional Court dismissed his application. Boesak had a fair trial, Justice Pius Langa, writing for the court, said, and there was no reason why a white-collar criminal should not go to prison.

Then came Tony Yengeni's case. Legal experts say that it is remarkable for two reasons. First, because it recognises that parliament can be defrauded, and secondly, because he received a strict sentence even though his fraud could not be measured in monetary terms.

With acknowledgements to Estelle Ellis and The Mercury.