“I’m pretty sure that the President will want to meet with JZ after this.”

This throwaway comment from one of axed Deputy President Jacob Zuma’s strongest backers, following his court appearance in Durban last week, was made in response to questions about the proposed meetings between Zuma and President Thabo Mbeki to seek reconciliation.

But it is also, perhaps, one of the clearest indications of how Zuma’s campaign — to stay afloat politically and secure the highest office in the country and the ruling party — has been managed thus far and how it is set to unfold.

Zuma’s campaign has been marked by several distinct features. He has maintained party discipline and protocol while leaving the mobilisation, the political toe-to-toe battles and the shows of force on the street to his supporters. The effect? While he presents impeccable party credentials, his people go to war on his behalf.

Since the investigation into his financial adviser Schabir Shaik began — the probe which led to Shaik’s conviction on corruption charges and Zuma’s subsequent axing over his “generally corrupt relationship” with Shaik — Zuma has been at pains not to fall foul of ANC protocol.

Throughout the media blizzard which has descended upon him, Zuma has maintained the image of the loyal and disciplined cadre, the true-blue ANC activist who acts only on instruction; who maintains organisational discipline; who refuses to talk out of school; the wronged revolutionary awaiting his time to speak out against his unnamed accusers.

At the same time he has presented himself as the humble man; the poor, uneducated activist who comes from nothing; the friend of the impoverished; the brother of the worker.

It has been easy, and strategically astute, for Zuma to do so. Behind the scenes — in trade union congresses, in ANC structures, on the streets and in the media — his supporters have been busy with the grunt work.

By the time the ANC held its National General Council in Tshwane in June, the Zuma lobby was ready to show its hand. As Zuma sat stony-faced, listening to ANC secretary-general Kgalema Motlanthe read out what amounted to his political requiem, most observers believed Msholozi was finished.

But hours after Motlanthe’s address, the tables had been turned. Seven of the nine ANC regions demanded that his “resignation” from ANC office be rejected and that he be reinstated as party deputy president.

The work had been done behind the scenes and any hope Mbeki held of Zuma quietly accepting his fate had been dashed.

By then the forces backing Zuma had become fearsome in nature. Apart from the seven ANC provinces, the SACP, Cosatu and its affiliates, Sanco and the ANC and SACP youth structures had all thrown their weight behind him. So too had the “independent” youth formation — Cosas and Sansco — and the ANC Women’s League followed suit. The ANC’s National Executive Committee, once the preserve of Mbeki and those close to him, is now a divided house, with similar tensions gradually starting to show even at National Working Committee level.

Since then Zuma’s backers have lobbied and mobilised relentlessly, putting together the Cosatu defence fund and later the Friends of Jacob Zuma Trust. The Trust, chaired by Durban businessman Don Mkhwanazi, has proved to be highly effective in fundraising and logistics, and Mkhwanazi played host to the alliance leadership at the night vigil on the eve of Zuma’s court appearance.

The Trust also provided the corporate touches — marquees, transport, T-shirts and public address system — which, taken with Zuma’s Presidential Protection Unit security team and fleet of luxury black vehicles, helps build the image of a presidential campaign in the making.

The whispering campaign of a conspiracy against Zuma, started by Schabir Shaik’s spin doctors, has also gained momentum, with Cosatu, SACP and ANC leaders now saying publicly that which was once said only in private.

Leaders like the SACP’s Blade Nzimande and ANC Youth League’s Fikile Mbalula now speak openly of a conspiracy against Zuma and equate his political and legal survival with the defence of the revolution.

In recent weeks Zuma has also started to up the pitch of his rhetoric, using the ambiguities and metaphors for which he is famous to goad his opponents while remaining within the bounds of acceptable ANC speak.

The first indication of this came at the launch of the ANC’s local government election campaign in Durban, where he called on members to strengthen the party to ensure their chosen leader of the future inherited a muscular party.

Calling on them to blame “the individual who you think has done something wrong” and not the ANC, he has preached party unity while hitting back.

This trend has escalated. Speaking to Vaal University of Technology students, Zuma’s comments were clearly aimed at exploiting Mbeki’s weakness on the HIV/Aids issue.

“I will be making a mistake if I don’t raise this issue with you,” Zuma said. “The disease is there. You can’t run from it.”

Read, too, his commentary on “academic politicians” — again a dig at Mbeki: “Don’t become an academic leader who, when asked a question by the people, is forced to turn to his briefcase before giving an answer.”

Despite the pointed comments, he also played it safe in terms of the battle on the streets.

“I will be misleading you if I don’t speak out against it [the burning of Mbeki T-shirts]. In whatever we do, we do not undermine the ANC. We cannot act in a way to warrant criticism from our enemies.”

Expect more massive street protests, marches and mobilisation by his supporters come Zuma’s November court appearances. They, and Zuma, are only too aware that when his High Court trial starts in earnest next July, his capacity to take up public platforms will be severely curtailed by time and legal constraints.

With acknowledgements to Paddy Harper and the Sunday Times.