
ANC's Ntuli, Ntshavheni take swipes at DA for boycotting National Dialogue
President Cyril Ramaphosa on Wednesday sought to address the National Dialogue impasse with the DA upfront, saying it won't be a talk-shop and is being designed to hear the voices of society, so their needs can be properly addressed.
ALSO READ: Ramaphosa says National Dialogue not 'just about talking', expects it to 'produce real results'
Mdumiseni was the first to criticise the DA's announcement in June that it would not participate in the National Dialogue because of the cost involved and because the president was not acting fairly in his disciplinary action against members of the executive.
Ntuli also said Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) leader Julius Malema was wrong to say the dialogue would be useless and a waste of money.
'It is my considered view that nobody must be allowed to stop the direction of the National Dialogue, and the country must be afforded an opportunity, from all sectors of society, to find solutions to the problems that continue to confront us.'
Outlining how the dialogue will work, Ntshavheni also took a potshot at the DA, saying there had been an overwhelming response from civil society.
'When you don't want to participate, you'll remain there alone. South Africans are eager to participate.'
With the first leg of the dialogue set to start in August, Ntshavheni said it would not be a once-off event and that the dialogue will continue in various forms and platforms for at least a year.
On Wednesday night, the Presidency announced Professor Tinyiko Maluleke and Roelf Meyer as the co-chairpersons of the eminent persons group responsible for guiding the dialogue.
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Daily Maverick
2 hours ago
- Daily Maverick
Home Affairs and my journey to a Smart ID card: A positive tale through operational challenges
In recent times, as South Africans look to the Government of National Unity for signs of progress, it's encouraging to see that at least one ministry – Home Affairs – is beginning to deliver tangible results. In particular, we are led to believe that the old green ID books are being phased out in favour of new Smart ID cards. Even as we hear that good news, government promises are met with scepticism: some in the media and many residents claim the improvements are illusory and that systemic inefficiencies persist. My recent encounter with Home Affairs offers a nuanced view, equal parts disconcerting and optimistic. Several months ago, reassured by public statements, I booked a 9am appointment online at my local branch, in George, Western Cape. Upon arrival, I was directed to a short queue of about 10 people with appointments, while a second queue – nearly 10 times as long along the sidewalk — accommodated walk-ins. I felt quite chuffed that I had booked ahead; so far, so good. At the entrance, those of us with bookings were handed a clipboard bearing a printed list. We were asked to find and cross out our names to confirm attendance. While a practical system in theory, the font was so tiny that I had genuine difficulty locating my name. My eyesight is perfectly serviceable; the issue was the microscopic print. Inside, I handed my green ID book to the official who checked his screen and returned my book to me. No, he explained, I was not yet eligible to apply for a Smart ID because I wasn't born in South Africa. But, but… the public announcements! No, my ID book and Permanent Resident certificate weren't enough — yet. He offered two choices. I could — right then and there and for a fee — apply for a new green ID book somehow different from my current one, and once with that in hand, I could then return later, maybe two months, maybe four, for the Smart ID; or I could skip that step and wait to receive a text message confirming my eligibility for the Smart ID. I chose the latter. Smooth, until… The text never arrived but I kept tabs on public updates. A few months later, the ministry announced that non-citizen Permanent Residents could now apply for the Smart ID. That's me. The online application process was smooth and straightforward — until the very last step. I was prompted to sign and enter the location where I was signing. But there was no functionality to do this electronically no matter how I hovered my cursor. I couldn't sign nor input a location. I submitted it anyway, albeit with trepidation. Rejected. I tried again. Rejected. I saved, logged out, returned hours later, and without making any changes tried once more. This time, inexplicably, my application was accepted. Within minutes, I received a confirmation email and text instructing me to bring my green ID book and Permanent Resident certificate to Home Affairs. Right as rain! Naturally, I booked a fresh appointment. I arrived at 9.45am for a 10am slot, with no sidewalk queues at all, for neither the booked nor the walk-ins. The clipboard and its impossible font size returned. Once again, I strained to locate and strike through my name. I approached the same officer from my earlier visit. He noted the time, 9.45am, and asked me to wait until 10am. I pointed out that no one else was waiting, so please… He politely insisted that I take a seat. But, I said, there's no one here, can't you help me now? No, please take a seat. So I sat a mere three metres away, watching him do absolutely nothing for the next fourteen minutes. Uh-oh. I approached his desk at 9.59am. He found my record in the system, and handed me ticket number 70, directing me to the biometrics desk. Onward. The biometrics officer was also unoccupied and signalled that I would need to wait until my number 70 was formally called. Dutifully as ever, I sat in one of the many empty chairs not 10 metres from his desk. Sure enough, two minutes later, number 70. I provided fingerprints and a signature; into the booth for a photo. Done within five minutes. He told me to wait again until my number 70 came up for verification. Within minutes, I was seated with a new officer. Wow, this is now going very well. She asked to take my fingerprints. I pointed across the room to the biometrics chap and said I had just come from there so all was well. No, she said, I must verify that you are you. I can only presume that this was a precaution to ensure I hadn't changed identities in the 20m walk and four-minute wait. Okay, fine. The scan of my fingerprints produced an amber status, not green, not red. She asked me to try again. This time it turned red. I was sent back to redo the biometrics. The entire process was repeated, and once again I was instructed to wait until my number 70 was called. Operational challenges, as it is said. I found a seat close to the same officer, who had by then stepped away, possibly for a tea break. Twenty minutes later, she returned and number 70 was called. Again: amber, then red! She called over her manager and explained the issue. The manager authorised an override with her fingerprint. Then the officer used her own fingerprint to regain access to her computer. Bureaucratic ballet done and dusted. The officer now asked for my original Permanent Resident certificate. I handed it over, protected from wear and tear in the plastic sleeve I store it in. She asked if I had the original. I said yes, that's it, in your hand. With nary a glance, she made copies of both my certificate and ID book. As she reviewed my online application. I braced myself for a rejection or at least a request to sign, thinking back to the signature I'd never been able to provide online. She said not a word and must have used my signature from the biometrics officer. No issue, all in order. She informed me that I'd receive a notification in about six months to collect my Smart ID. It could be sooner, she added, but delays were likely given the newness of the system. Within the hour, I received confirmation of the day's progress via text and email. Pretty good. Weeks, not months And then — who needs six months? Less than five weeks later, I received a text and email telling me that my card was ready. One said my 'replacement ID', the other said 'ID reissue', but I pretended not to be concerned about the slight difference and the absence of the word 'Smart' that Home Affairs has so loudly proclaimed. Another 10am appointment, another tiny font, immediately at the reception chap's counter. Looked at his computer, gave me a number and sent me upstairs for ID collections. Up I go, into a smaller room with desks for three agents. I was second in the queue, and within five minutes I was at the desk of the only agent working, the very same one who weeks before couldn't verify my fingerprints downstairs. Up here, with a different fingerprint scanner, I figured this was going to be easy. No such luck. Several attempts. My fingerprints were not accepted. It seems that though fingerprints don't age, scanning machines can't handle old man skin — that's mine. She escorts me downstairs to a counter to await someone to override the system. Fifteen minutes later, my excitement drained by my impatience, along comes a young agent who slowly makes things happen; logging into the computer at that desk took another five minutes. But then it happened — I signed in a few places, he copied a few documents, and my Smart ID was in my hand! All good! But not fully the end of the story. As he handed me my old green ID book, he said I should keep it in a safe place. I said I'd rather just throw it away. No, he repeated, keep it in a safe place. Once at home I read the letter from Home Affairs that accompanied the card. It said, and I quote: '… and replaces the green barcoded identity document which should be handed in at the Department of Home Affairs when issued with a Smart ID Card'. But wait, the agent just gave it to me, told me to safeguard it, what's a guy to do now? Just smile. On the card itself is printed 'Date of Issue 30 May 2025'. That was a mere two weeks after my application was accepted, not the six months I was warned about, thank you. But if it was issued on 30 May, why did it take three weeks to tell me it was ready for collection? Just asking for a friend. So I now am relishing the last round of a rousing ride — an experience at once off-putting and ultimately positive. While much remains to be improved, my cautious optimism remains intact. Perhaps this is what progress looks like in South Africa: slow, uneven, but moving forward nonetheless. DM


Daily Maverick
3 hours ago
- Daily Maverick
eThekwini taken to court for ‘possum' stance on Durban beach sewage crisis
Durban municipal leaders will come under renewed legal pressure this week to devise a more ambitious and 'credible' action plan to resolve a long-standing sewage management crisis that has led to widespread pollution of local rivers and repeated closures of tourist beaches. The civil court case over eThekwini's sewage management crisis, to be heard over two days in the Durban High Court from 24 to 25 July, is the culmination of separate legal actions brought by the DA and ActionSA more than two years ago. The two party actions have now been joined into a single case to determine whether the City has responded reasonably to resolve the crisis and to also consider new measures, including the appointment of an independent administrator to supervise the City's wastewater management and remediation plans. While the City has largely blamed the crisis on the devastating flood events of April and May 2022 and limited budgets to repair the damage, the DA argues that the crisis is the direct result of years of failure and neglect in maintaining and upgrading infrastructure to cope with sewage flows generated by nearly four million city residents. In heads of argument prepared by legal counsel Max du Plessis SC, Toni Palmer and Ruchir Naidoo, the DA alleges that the city leadership is 'playing possum' and resorted to 'opportunistic' excuses by denying culpability for the crisis. Noting that the city's Water and Sanitation department had been presented with United Nations awards in 2007 and 2011 for 'world-class' sanitation and service delivery, the DA counsel recalled that problems were evident before the floods. For example, the City tried to blame water hyacinth for beach closures in December 2021, when the true reason was high levels of E. coli sewage bacteria being pumped into the Umgeni River from dysfunctional sewage treatment works. 'The question eThekwini studiously avoids in explaining its position in these proceedings is what happened between 2007 and now, to take this award-winning system to its present state? Plainly the infrastructure did not age or break overnight. 'Had eThekwini intended seriously to dispute the averment that it had underprioritised its wastewater infrastructure in the past decade, it would have done so by disclosing the amounts, its plans and confirming the adequacy of its budgetary allocations during this time. eThekwini's answering affidavit is entirely mum on this.' But the City's counsel charge that the DA case is big on complaints but short on practical solutions. They say the party has deliberately downplayed relevant factors such as the unprecedented floods and major financial constraints facing the city. 'The impact of the floods has been so significant that the eThekwini Municipality will now have to effectively rebuild damaged and destroyed infrastructure.' The City further argues that it is being asked to 'achieve the impossible', also indicating that full rehabilitation of sewage infrastructure could extend over 25 years. Hastening the rehabilitation timeline would require diverting funds from other priorities such as housing, health or electricity. 'How much money and manpower can legitimately be moved away from housing to the (sewage) repair infrastructure? Does a new clinic get placed on hold until the repair work is undertaken. These are questions that the Democratic Alliance simply ignores…' But the DA denies this, stating: 'This case is about finding practical ways to end the sewerage crisis, while respecting that eThekwini, while floundering and excuse-prone, is nonetheless the local executive authority.' In the absence of political will and the City's failure to develop 'meaningful plans' to resolve the problems, court intervention was needed to craft a legal solution. 'This is relief which is forward-looking, meaningful and within this Court's powers to grant in order to resolve the true dispute between the parties: that is, securing compliance with environmental legislation in the interests of eThekwini residents and visitors and putting an end to continuing violation of human rights in contravention of the Constitution. 'The DA has not approached the Court to tell eThekwini that it knows better how to resolve the problem. It has not sought to dictate to eThekwini how it should prioritise spending of public money. It has not sought to dictate to eThekwini how to comply with the law. It has not sought to force a plan upon eThekwini, or bind its hands in developing such a plan.' Rather, it was seeking to ensure that eThekwini produced a 'proper' action plan rather than elastic wish-lists. 'The (current eThekwini action plan) is not a plan at all, but an aspirational wish-list, the timelines for which are not deadlines, but mere suggestions, which will be revised and pushed back in order to accommodate them being ongoingly missed by eThekwini.' The party further says that eThekwini strongly opposed any court supervision. 'Instead, it remains stuck in history, blaming its ageing infrastructure and limited budget as reasons to excuse it from complying with its constitutional and legal obligations… The law has been violated by the sewerage crisis for which eThekwini is responsible, and this must be recognised and declared by the Court.' Speaking ahead of the court case, DA provincial spokesperson Dean Macpherson said his party had offered to drop the case and reach an out-of-court settlement, but this had been refused. Therefore, his party had no alternative but to approach the courts because neither the provincial or national government had demonstrated a willingness to compel eThekwini to rectify the problems. 'We get no victory from dragging eThekwini and government departments to court to do their jobs and it should not be up to a political party to do this.' In heads of argument prepared by advocates Vinay Naidoo SC, Immanuel Veerasamy and Minikazi Mtati, the City estimates that it will cost R4.5-billion to rehabilitate wastewater treatment infrastructure and a further R1.6-billion to maintain this network thereafter. City officials argue that it is also unaffordable to protect all sewage pump stations from vandals and copper wire thieves as it would cost R900-million per year to provide on-site security guards at all 273 pump stations in the city. As a result, on-site security was only provided at certain 'higher risk' stations. 'The Democratic Alliance would have the court focus on water and sanitation obligations imposed on the municipality to the exclusion of all other obligations… A full reading of the eThekwini Municipality's answering affidavit and the DA's complaints demonstrates that the problems are being attended to, just not with the expediency which the DA would want the municipality to do.' DM


Daily Maverick
3 hours ago
- Daily Maverick
The challenge of cohesion: Lessons from Singapore for South Africa's diverse tapestry
From 24 to 26 June 2025 I attended the International Conference for Cohesive Societies (ICCS) in Singapore, a global gathering of policymakers, civil society leaders and thinkers committed to the idea that diversity, if carefully nurtured, can be a nation's greatest strength. Held in a city-state widely recognised for its success in managing multiculturalism, the conference offered profound insights, not only into global best practices, but also into the quiet struggles and aspirations of nations grappling with identity, cohesion and belonging. The address by His Excellency Tharman Shanmugaratnam, the president of Singapore, was particularly arresting. He spoke of diverse nations as being like quilts, composed of many distinct patches, each representing a different community, sewn together to create something both beautiful and meaningful. Yet, he cautioned, when storms rage, be they economic, political or social, the quilt may fray, its seams come apart, its integrity tested. Perhaps, he mused, we must begin to weave new cloth, stronger, more resilient, where the threads of our many identities are not merely stitched side by side, but entwined in a shared fabric of common purpose. It was a metaphor that struck deep, not just for its elegance, but for its resonance with the South African condition. South Africa, too, is a patchwork nation. We are black, white, coloured, Indian and many other shades in between. We are Zulu, Xhosa, Afrikaans, English, Tswana, Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, Christian, African traditionalist and secular. Our diversity is immense. It is beautiful. But it is also the source of some of our deepest tensions. The fundamental question we face is this: Are we, first and foremost, South Africans, a single people forged in shared destiny, or are we, still, primarily members of our separate communities who just happen to coexist within the same borders? Put another way, are we one nation regardless of race and culture, or are we still proud white, black, coloured and Indian South Africans, united, working together to forge a nation for all that live in it? The central challenge of our democratic project This is not merely a question of semantics. It is the central challenge of our democratic project. The Freedom Charter's enduring promise that 'South Africa belongs to all who live in it, united in our diversity,' is an aspiration that has yet to be realised. In Singapore, I observed a nation that has answered this question with quiet determination. Rather than erasing cultural identity, it has built systems, policies and symbols that reinforce shared citizenship while celebrating difference. Civic identity takes precedence, but not at the expense of personal heritage. They have found, in many ways, a formula for unity without uniformity. For South Africa, the road is more complex. Our history is more painful, our inequalities more entrenched, our wounds more recent. Yet that does not absolve us from the responsibility to forge a stronger social compact, one in which we weave new cloth rather than simply mending the old quilt. What might that cloth look like? It would be woven from threads of shared values, non-racialism, mutual respect, ubuntu and justice. It would draw strength from the fibres of local languages, customs, histories and rituals, but bind them into a fabric of common purpose. It would move us beyond coexistence into co-creation. Beyond tolerance into solidarity. Importantly, this new cloth does not require us to shed our cultural identities. Rather, it asks that we bring them to the loom, consciously, willingly and in the spirit of building something that transcends each of us individually. In this way, we do not become less coloured, less African, less Indian, less white — we become more South African together. Of course, weaving new fabric requires leadership, trust and a willingness to act with moral courage. It demands that we interrogate our education system, our media, our political discourse and our civic rituals. Difficult questions It means asking difficult questions: Why do so many still feel excluded from the national story? Why do young people in townships and suburbs grow up worlds apart? Why do we default to racial categories rather than civic ones? At the conference, I saw nations grappling with these same questions, each in their own context. Yet the most successful examples, Singapore among them, demonstrated one truth repeatedly: cohesion is not an accidental by-product of democracy. It is a deliberate act of national imagination and political will. For South Africa, the time has come to reimagine our social fabric. The old quilt, stitched together in 1994, was a powerful start. But it has been weathered by time, torn by inequality, frayed by neglect. Now, we must begin to weave anew. Let us not be afraid to dream of a cloth that is stronger, more resilient, more inclusive. A cloth where every thread matters, but where what binds us is even stronger than what differentiates us. A cloth we can call South Africa, not as a collection of patches, but as a single, purposeful, living nation. DM