OBITUARY: James Selfe found common ground where others couldn’t resist conflict

James Selfe was born in Cape Town in 1955 and died peacefully on Tuesday afternoon at his home in the city of his birth surrounded by his family.

The son of a diplomat, he was sent to boarding school at Bishops at the age of 10. The experience shaped him: the casual brutality of the place toughened and wounded him in equal measure but it was there that his interest in politics was first nurtured. He joined the Progressive Party on his 18th birthday in 1973, won himself a degree in politics from the University of Cape Town and in 1978 filled a vacancy in the party’s research department. For 43 unbroken years he served the people of his country as a champion of the liberal way.

James was a proper party man and those of us who belong to that strange sub-set of humanity loved him for it.

He did everything one could do in a party, from knocking on doors to running the show as the chair of its Federal Council in which capacity he negotiated the party’s many coalition agreements — a skill that will be missed into the future.

He was also an outstanding MP with an astonishing array of political talents. He could write a leaflet, a press release, a speech, a policy document, an organisational plan, a legal brief, a set of regulations, a piece of legislation and a party constitution. And he had an almost-unique ability to render in one sitting perfectly formed paragraphs in coherent succession — all in beautifully crafted cursive handwriting.

James’ liberalism was of the sort that begins with an appreciation for the goodness in people. He liked to use the phrase, “individuals are the touchstone of value”.

This was a personal commitment before an ideological one: the patience and kindness for which he is so widely remembered can be sourced to a deeply held belief in humankind’s capacity for goodness.

The authenticity of his attachment to liberal ideals explains also his imperviousness to fashion, peer pressure and social contagion: the left never provoked in him a shift to the right, and the right never compelled him to move left. He knew who he was.

His values explain too his abiding passion for prison reform and prisoner rehabilitation an interest first sparked by accompanying Helen Suzman on her prison visits. James was a member of parliament’s portfolio committee on correctional services from 1994 until his retirement. In the latter part of his career he was offered his pick of portfolios and spurned the more prestigious in favour of correctional services. Where, in a country brutalised by violent crime and wracked by all manner of catastrophe, will we find another public servant as passionate about second chances for the people we most revile?

But James will most be remembered for his prosecution of the DA’s “lawfare” strategy. It was borne of a belief that SA’s constitution could only serve its purpose — to protect individual rights and nurture a democratic state — if it were used to full effect. And use it he did.

There are too many cases to list here, but some are seminal, like the “Spy Tapes” case, which paved the way for the prosecution of Jacob Zuma on corruption charges; the setting aside of Menzi Simelane’s appointment as head of the National Prosecuting Authority, thus limiting irrational executive power and ensuring parliament is properly able to debate motions of no confidence in the president.

James Selfe was a fundamentally good man, marked by his intelligence and humour, work ethic, kindness and loyalty and his ability to disagree with grace and civility. What stands out is the encouragement and support he gave countless young members of staff and budding politicians. Always generous with his time and wisdom, he was never too grand to lend a hand to those less important than he.

In the end, the sustained pressure of politics took its toll on his health. I wasn’t alone in exhorting him to resign as chair of the Federal Council much earlier than he did. He deserved a more relaxed final lap as a revered elder statesman. But it wasn’t in him to let go until ill health left him no choice. His final years were spent battling multiple systems atrophy, a rare — and fatal — neurological condition.

For all that he achieved in politics, James’ legacy is crowned not by his work, but by the three daughters on whom he doted, and the loving marriage he shared with his wife, Sheila — the true mark of greatness.

My friend James was able to preserve his principles, prosecute his politics without compromising civility, and find common ground where others couldn’t resist conflict. With less than a week to go before a general election in which no party is likely to win a majority for the first time since James was elected to parliament in 1994, perhaps SA’s leaders should honour him by heeding his example.

• Ryan Coetzee is the DA's former chief political strategist