Publication: Sunday Times
Issued:
Date: 2006-07-16
Reporter: Paddy Harper
Reporter:
The
T-shirt-and-song campaign that has turned the ANC’s deputy president into a
national icon has created a superficial but militant and dangerous support base,
writes Paddy Harper
For the first time in ANC history, the most recognisable party icon is not its
president, but, rather, a leader battling to stay out of jail
Around the middle of last year, ANC members did something
very un-ANC. Faced with the prospect of ANC deputy president Jacob Zuma being
stripped of his party post as well as his deputy presidency of the country, they
issued, on the eve of the party’s National General Council, a series of T-shirts
emblazoned with Zuma’s face and proclaiming that he was “innocent until proven
guilty”.
Until then, such T-shirts had traditionally been part of the ANC
mainstream, commemorating the lives of party heroes or organisational milestones
and endorsed by the party leadership. Party disciplinary codes had helped
reinforce this: at an event like the NGC only official ANC paraphernalia is
permitted.
The T-shirts, produced by the ANC Youth League and the party’s
eThekwini region, were an instant hit: by the second day of the NGC delegate
after delegate was wearing the “rogue” shirts as ANC regions stood up to reject
Zuma’s forced “resignation” from ANC structures.
Almost in the wink of an
eye a long-standing tradition had been turned on its head. And what is arguably
the most effective branding exercise in contemporary South African history had
begun. Now, little over a year later, the Zuma brand has been firmly etched into
the national psyche.
What began as an act of protest in defence of a
leader facing a possible 15 years in jail for corruption has gained massive
momentum. The country, KwaZulu-Natal and Gauteng in particular, is awash with
Zuma merchandise. T-shirts in all manner of styles are on the streets with
messages ranging from “all shall be equal before the law” to “100% Zuluboy” to
“Zuma for president”. Whereas in the beginning they were distributed free by
Zuma supporters, wanting to keep his name on the nation’s lips, now they are a
lucrative money-spinner for both independent entrepreneurs and organisations
wanting to raise funds for Zuma. Shirts which were thrown out of car windows to
the crowds outside the Durban Magistrate’s Court for Zuma’s early appearances
now fetch between R50 and R80 a pop.
In the run-up to the March local
government elections, an ANC mainstream desperate to consolidate its hold on
KwaZulu-Natal and other provinces, used Zuma’s image on shirts to exhort voters
to both register and vote ANC. The implication was clearly; there were concerns
that the marginalisation of Zuma would cause a drop in ANC support.
But
the Zuma branding is not confined to T-shirts.
His every appearance in
court has been marked by posters proclaiming his innocence and talking up a
conspiracy against him by some in the ANC leadership.
More aggressive
posters have proclaimed Zuma’s presidential ambitions as his support base has
become emboldened and demanded everything from keeping him out of jail to his
forcing his way into the highest offices of the ruling party and the
country.
South Africa’s eyes have not been the only target of the
pro-Zuma campaign. Songs proclaiming support for Zuma abound, from My president
to Away with the capitalist agenda, while the struggle song Awuleth’umshini
wami, allegedly Zuma’s favourite, repeatedly assaults the ears.
This
year’s Absa Cup in Durban saw the Chiefs and Pirates faithful roaring the now
indelible lyrics, led from the field by a marching band sponsored by the
eThekwini Municipality.
Zuma supporters have recorded the man himself
singing the song, and it is only a matter of time until this version is released
on CD. When it is, it is likely to sell more quickly than almost any song in
South African history, and whoever secures the copyright might become extremely
wealthy literally overnight.
The Zuma brand has also taken off in the
virtual realm. The Friends of Jacob Trust website has become the first stop for
those wanting to send “messages of support” to their leader. So vitriolic are
the attacks there on Mbeki and other ANC leaders that Zuma is under increasing
pressure from party bosses to have the site closed down.
Last year,
according to Zuma’s “office”, he registered a web domain, JacobZuma.com, for
future use.
Thus far it contains only links to a media and administration
setup, but there are ambitious plans to use it to build on the pro-Zuma
campaign.
Media institutions too have helped make the Zuma brand a
success. His every word and appearance is news.
This is something the
Zuma camp cleverly makes use of. While his every public appearance is
characterised by verbal attacks on the media (along with intellectuals and
political analysts), Zuma’s backers are quick to ensure that the media are
there, and there in numbers, every time the man opens his mouth.
His
appearance at the most obscure or far-flung event draws journalists like flies:
Zuma’s attendance of the graduation of Xhosa initiates in Qumbu, in the Eastern
Cape, last Saturday was a case in point. Roads more suitable for donkeys than
cars did not stop a massive media contingent descending on the ceremony, hanging
on every word and movement Zuma made while being kept at bay by bodyguards who
did their utmost to make life difficult.
The collective effect of the
Zuma campaign is that for the first time in the ANC’s history, the most
recognisable party icon is not its president but, rather, a leader who is
battling to stay out of jail.
It is the ultimate celebration of the
anti-hero: the endorsement of a man accused of a package of crimes, ranging from
rape to corruption, at the expense of the party’s leadership.
Not since
Nelson Mandela has an ANC figure dominated the national consciousness to such an
extent, eclipsing both the presidential image and that of the spear and shield.
Ironically, while Mandela captured all that was honourable and good in
the ANC, Zuma’s icon is that of the anti-hero, the political Ned Kelly, a man
forced outside but who will not remain in the political wilderness.
There
are certain things that have made this campaign so successful and, for the ANC,
so dangerous.
The first is the whispering campaign proclaiming that Zuma
has either been set up or is guilty of lesser acts of corruption than his peers
in the ANC who have not been prosecuted. This campaign has been highly
effective, with massive numbers of South Africans buying the conspiracy
theory.
It is no longer a campaign of whispers: Zuma backers from
national to branch level are out there daily selling the theory to the rank and
file, who in the main now subscribe to it especially in Kwa-Zulu Natal and
Gauteng.
The hustling on the ground by Zuma’s supporters in the ANC, the
youth league and outside its ranks, has worked. Despite the ugly behaviour of
the “burn the bitch” brigade at Zuma’s Johannesburg High Court appearances,
ordinary people still believe in Zuma and his innocence, particularly after his
acquittal on rape charges.
His visit last week to Mthatha, in the Eastern
Cape, saw masses of female supporters, young and old, turn out, despite his
having publicly admitted to having had unprotected sex with the HIV-positive
family friend.
The combination of the branding campaign and the
political work in ANC and alliance structures has created a formidable machine
which will transform itself from a means of keeping him out of jail to a fully
fledged presidential campaign.
There is a potential down side for the
Zuma camp and the ANC leadership more broadly to having run such a pop
campaign. Supporters do not attend Zuma events to hear what he has to say
they are there to hear him sing.
Last
weekend, and his address at the Youth Day celebrations in Durban in June, were
marked by hecklers calling on him to sing Awuleth’umshini wami rather than
continue with the most significant speech he has delivered since being fired by
Mbeki last June.
Such a support base, generated not by content but by
form, tends to be unblinkingly loyal, but is built not on commitment to ideas
but to the catchy sound bite; to the T-shirt, not the policy
document.
This is a movement based not on party discipline and doctrine,
but on the defiance of authority, the support of the outcast, the worship of the
anti-hero.
This is not a movement of ideas, but one where consumer
culture meets ethnic nationalism and backdoor
morality.
This creates the most
chilling challenge for the government and the ANC: what will happen on the streets if Zuma, whose popularity is at an
all-time high, is convicted on corruption charges?
With acknowledgements to Paddy Harper and Sunday Times.