From the outside it looks as if South Africa's miracle is over. Jacob Zuma, the former Deputy President who was charged with rape and may soon be charged with corruption, is about to become President of the African National Congress and is likely to be the next president of South Africa. Thirteen years after the peaceful handover of power, the rainbow nation is threatened with a very nasty storm.
Here we go, say some. Here comes another Mugabe, a typical African dictator who will wreck his country. They point to the corruption charges and the rape trial where Mr Zuma said that to avoid catching HIV he showered after having sex. Archbishop Desmond Tutu described him as “someone of whom most of us would be ashamed”.
How has this happened? The answer is that the President, Thabo Mbeki, through his obsession with fighting Mr Zuma, brought it on himself. Schooled in exile when the ANC was close to the Soviet Union, Mr Mbeki was its chief spokesman. He knows all about “democratic centralism”, where decisions are made behind closed doors and announced to a grateful following. That's how he came to power. And in power he continued the practice, preaching democracy but closing down democratic space and picking only loyalists to serve him. This caused resentment among those who had stayed in South Africa and fought apartheid in the streets. Democracy has now come back to bite him.
Secondly, Mr Mbeki followed a free-market policy combined with a “black economic empowerment” programme that enriched a few blacks but left millions out in the cold. Unemployment is officially 25 per cent but the reality is probably nearer 38 per cent. Trade unions and the militants noisily point out that, despite 13 years of ANC rule, the wealth gap has not narrowed. Mr Mbeki excluded them from the inner circle but Mr Zuma now sings their song. He has become the voice of the poor masses. For them, especially the men, rape, HIV and corruption are not crucial political issues.
I first met Mr Zuma in a London pub in the 1980s when he was head of intelligence for the ANC. The pub was his suggestion. Mr Mbeki would never have met in such a place and invariably turned up late — as a way, I felt, of showing who was in charge. Mr Zuma turned up on time, bought the first round and immediately seemed at home. Jovial and amusing, he enjoys being with people, swapping stories, discussing issues. You have to remind yourself that as the intelligence boss, he must have witnessed or authorised some pretty nasty stuff during South Africa's war. Suspected spies were not left alive.
Mr Zuma was also one of the few Zulus in a leading position in the ANC. South Africa's largest ethnic group, the Zulus' main political movement under apartheid was the Inkatha Freedom Party, led by Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi. Inkatha collaborated with the apartheid Government in bitter fighting to keep the ANC out of KwaZulu-Natal province. On his return from exile after the release of Nelson Mandela, Mr Zuma was given the key role in making peace among the Zulus and bringing Chief Buthelezi into government — a task many thought impossible. He succeeded, and Chief Buthelezi's power dwindled. As premier of KwaZulu, Mr Zuma is now South Africa's leading Zulu — and more than looks the part with flashing spear and leopardskin skirt.
So should we get ready to panic in 18 months' time when South Africa's next presidential election takes place? In front of the crowds Mr Zuma is shamelessly populist, quite prepared to play on poverty's dream of instant riches. But he is not a thug. He called off the gang known as “Friends of Jacob Zuma” who used to demonstrate noisily outside the court house during the rape trial. Nor does his signature tune, Mshini Wami, “Bring me my machinegun”, a song from the liberation struggle, imply racial hatred, though it may thoroughly scare the whites. Unlike Mr Mbeki, who seems obsessed with race at times, no racial remark is recorded from Mr Zuma.
The question is whether Mr Zuma will appoint loyal but incompetent ministers or whether he will enjoy the trappings of power but appoint experienced people to run the country. His relations with Trevor Manuel, the architect of South Africa's longest-ever period of economic growth, are not good. But Mr Zuma is no socialist. He may try, in a sleazy way, to make friends with South Africa's giant companies and the multinationals, getting favours from them and giving them contracts. The Zuma list for the ANC's national executive includes some of the most corrupt people in South Africa. He will also have to repay the trade unions for their support.
Will South Africa's institutions withstand a period of populist, erratic or dictatorial rule? The country's strongest institutions are the constitution, the most liberal in the world, and the law. South Africans today are protected by stringent legal safeguards. For years the ANC was run by lawyers, including Nelson Mandela. The law sometimes gave them some protection under apartheid and even saved their lives. Mr Zuma has suggested simplistic solutions to the country's appalling crime rate: bringing back the death penalty and suspending legal aid to those charged with serious crimes. It is worrying to imagine a South Africa in which the president does not share that belief in law and institutions.
If he is charged with corruption it could be the law that blocks his bid for the presidency. But any move, political or legal, to stop Mr Zuma now will create a drastic reaction from his supporters. This will mean a deeply divided ANC and may result in a fatal split. What is certain is that by the time South Africans vote in 2009, this battle will grow from angry words in the conference hall to violence in the streets.
Richard Dowden