GHALEB CACHALIA: Pravin Gordhan tributes overlook deeply mixed legacy

When I heard of the passing of Pravin Gordhan, as I sat in my study, I reached instinctively for the Daily Telegraph’s Book of Obituaries and was struck by the erudition of Hugh Massingberd, who took over the Telegraph’s obituary pages about 40 years ago. 

Anthony Howard, the British journalist, broadcaster, writer and editor of the New Statesman, The Listener and deputy editor of The Observer, remarked that Massingberd revolutionised everything with his “sharp, waspish, fluent and encoded” pieces — “a far cry from the previous columns, in which some would only write well of the dead”. 

And so, on to the departed Pravin Jamnadas Gordhan — chemist, communist, anti-apartheid activist, plotter, king of cabals, minister of finance (twice removed) and overseer of our moribund state-owned companies. He was appointed in 1993 to the panel of chairpersons on the planning committee of the multiparty negotiation process and was commissioner of the SA Revenue Service (Sars) from 1999 to 2009. 

It was in the latter capacity that I first encountered Gordhan when I was co-head of the Monitor Consultancy in SA, where we were commissioned to assist in the turnaround of Sars. He proved to be a decisive, dour, determined and informed client. The edifice he built speaks for itself.

During his tenure as finance minister he was generally perceived as a safe pair of hands and served dutifully until his firing by then president Jacob Zuma. His reputation, honed thereafter, was built on his criticism of Zuma, ostensibly leading the fightback against state capture from within the ANC.  His testimony before the Zondo state capture commission squarely implicated Zuma and put a value of the cost of state capture to SA at R500bn. Since then 1,438 people have been specifically implicated, but some seven years later prosecutions have been few and far between.

Amid this tepid response, rampant corruption and mismanagement at Transnet and Eskom continued under Gordhan’s watch, and his role in the attempted sale of SAA came under significant scrutiny. 

Zondo’s recommendations included the establishment of a committee to oversee the presidency; the prioritisation of a constituency-based electoral system to enhance accountability; the institution of a system to monitor cabinet efficacy; a changing of the rules regarding government appointments; and the appointment of opposition party members as committee chairs. 

Only the latter has been implemented, occasioned by a calamitous fall in the ANC’s electoral fortunes, rather than by any particular proactive move championed by the ANC government, of which Gordhan was a key member — some say most favoured — under Ramaphosa’s regime. 

The spate of hagiographic paeans that followed Gordhan’s death have paid considerable attention to qualities elevating the man to a position of some sainthood. But few, if any, bar the predictably venomous and crass diatribes from the EFF and its fellow travellers, which warrant dismissal, allude to his secretive and controlling nature.

Equally, criticism of his performance in his first term as finance minister between 2009 and 2014, when government expenditure ballooned and the debt-to-GDP ratio — hitherto under control — shot up to above 40%, has been muted. Add to this the deterioration of almost all state-owned companies on Gordhan’s watch and you have the making of a paradoxical legacy. 

SA rarely deals deftly with paradox, be it the inconsistencies and anomalies of Mangosuthu Buthelezi or Winnie Mandela, let alone those of Madiba. It would perhaps be wise and fitting to dissect contributions dispassionately. Alas, the various needs in a young democracy to beatify struggle icons persists.

Mercifully, the pigeons always have the last say when it comes to statues — metaphorically and otherwise. In the absence of balance, in a (30-year-old) post-liberation scenario, we may have to rely on the pigeons in the absence of a Massingberd. 

• Cachalia is a former DA MP and public enterprises spokesperson.