SA almost has a Budget — finance committee adopts fiscal framework, despite MK and EFF rejections
When the second iteration of the 2025 Budget came before Parliament's finance committee in April, the divisions in the Government of National Unity (GNU) were on full display. The Democratic Alliance (DA) refused to support the adoption of the fiscal framework and it only moved through the committees and then the National Assembly thanks to the support of non-GNU parties such as ActionSA.
On Wednesday, 4 June, the GNU's largest members, the African National Congress (ANC) and DA, finally found each other and the fiscal framework was passed by a vote of seven to three.
The passing of the fiscal framework is a key step in the budgeting process. This framework establishes economic policy and revenue projections and sets the overall limits to government spending. This report must be adopted within 16 days after Finance Minister Enoch Godongwana tables the Budget.
While the DA opposed the fiscal framework in Budget 2.0, Wednesday's situation was different, with both the ANC and DA supporting the measure against the opposition of the Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) and uMkhonto Wesizwe (MK) party.
Wednesday's meeting was briefly halted to find a bigger venue in Parliament to accommodate all the MPs, journalists and officials, as well as ensure it was recorded, in line with MPs' requests.
There were several comments and queries by MK party MPs, including axed finance minister Des van Rooyen and former Eskom boss Brian Molefe. At one point, Molefe said the fiscal framework should include the expanded unemployment rate (43.1%) rather than the narrow definition (32.9%), but his suggestion was shot down.
The MK and EFF also criticised the increase in the fuel levy, with Molefe describing it as 'regressive' and 'not pro-growth'. On Tuesday, the Western Cape Division of the High Court dismissed the EFF's urgent bid to block the fuel levy increase.
Issues were raised on whether the Budget was that of an austerity budget, denied by the ANC – an answer the MK party and EFF continued to reject.
It was questioned several times during the meeting whether MPs were making points simply to grandstand 'because there were cameras'.
This seemed evident when EFF MP Omphile Maotwe raised objections over a section of the report that dealt with 'not providing bailouts' to state-owned entities (SOEs), rather than 'capitalising SOEs'.
Maotwe said she was at Transnet when she claimed it had been successful under the management of fellow finance committee member Brian Molefe – the former Transnet CEO turned State Capture accused, and now a member of the MK Party on its parliamentary benches.
Next week, the National Assembly will vote on whether to adopt the fiscal framework in a sitting at the Cape Town International Convention Centre. When the fiscal framework is passed, other steps in the budgeting process include the passing of the Division of Revenue Bill and the Appropriation Bill.
During the tabling of the fiscal framework in the National Assembly in April, the ANC appeared jubilant when it was passed without the DA's support, while the DA had harsh words for the ANC and other parties who supported that version of the Budget. It's unlikely there will be such acrimony next week. DM
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Daily Maverick
an hour ago
- Daily Maverick
Right goals but poor execution hampering SA's vital National Dialogue
With inclusive economic growth, the Rainbow Nation dream is possible, but can an ANC-dominated dialogue deliver? Amid significant discord, South Africa's year-long National Dialogue began in Pretoria last week. The process aims to forge a new social compact and essentially lay the groundwork for the next phase of the country's National Development Plan. It would be a wasted opportunity if the dialogue's rocky start stymied progress towards achieving these two compelling goals. Before the launch, the dialogue's proposed large budget, lack of civil society engagement and rushed process stirred public anger. Then a public spat broke out between President Cyril Ramaphosa and former president Thabo Mbeki, when the latter felt piqued that the government and not the Preparatory Task Team — in which his foundation played a key role — was in the driving seat. Eventually, several legacy foundations, which had assumed a leadership role in preparing for the process, walked out in protest. The Democratic Alliance, the second-largest party in the Government of National Unity (GNU) after Ramaphosa's African National Congress (ANC), had also withdrawn earlier. Mbeki was the first to call for a national dialogue to be held after the May 2024 general elections, which would address corruption, service delivery failures and the systemic decay in governance. During those elections, the ANC suffered an unprecedented 17 percentage point drop in support, forcing it to establish a GNU that eventually included 10 parties. There is considerable suspicion that the dialogue is intended to resuscitate the political fortunes of the ANC before the 2026 local and 2029 national elections. Those concerns seemed validated when, instead of drawing inspiration from South Africa's widely hailed 1994 Constitution, Ramaphosa said the dialogue would draw on the 1955 Congress of the People and Freedom Charter — which underpin ANC policy. Without a solid foundation and clarity of purpose, never mind budget and structure, current prospects for the dialogue are not promising. An updated forecast from the African Futures team at the Institute for Security Studies reveals that South Africa's gross domestic product (GDP) per capita has stagnated or steadily declined since 2013, with a brief upturn in 2018. On its current growth trajectory, the country will recover to its 2013 level in 2039, implying 26 lost years. Even in a high-growth scenario, that point would, at best, be reached in 2032, some years after the next national elections. It is widely reported that South Africa has the highest unemployment and inequality rates globally. As if we are not doing badly enough, our foreign policy is among the reasons the United States has imposed 30% punitive trade tariffs on South Africa. The ANC has been in power since 1994, so cannot escape primary responsibility for this dismal state of affairs. The dialogue's goal of forging a social compact speaks to the extent of national disharmony — a situation not unique to South Africa. Instead of the unifying vision of a Rainbow Nation, the ANC has prolonged the racialised politics of the past. Policies intended to promote inclusion do so selectively and perpetuate inequality. Instead of fixing structural drivers to enable broad empowerment — such as quality education, health and access to opportunity — a host of race-based policies smother the economy. Examples are preferential procurement policies and the Employment Equity Amendment Act. This comes on top of weak implementation, lack of consequence management and widespread corruption in the government. Somewhere, the ANC has lost its way and the extent of its corruption, incompetence and internal fractures is on daily display in the media. What is left of the party's ideological core is provided by former members of its politicised armed wing, Umkhonto weSizwe, who today form the centre of resistance within the ANC to Ramaphosa. The latest example was the chief of the South African National Defence Force's calculated call for closer relations with Iran — at a time when South Africa is trying to negotiate a reduction in US tariffs. SA in search of its mojo South Africa is in search of its mojo, largely as a result of the ANC's loss of moral purpose. The party is widely expected to do badly in the forthcoming local and general elections, but is likely to remain the largest political party nationally. What happens in the ANC should therefore be of concern to all South Africans. The way forward on the dialogue's second goal is clear — draw up a follow-on National Development Plan that has the broadest political, business, labour and civil society support, thus enabling it to survive beyond the 2029 elections. That requires four steps. First, harmonising the National Planning Commission and its work with the Eminent Persons Group appointed to guide the National Dialogue. Second, undertaking a comprehensive diagnostic analysis, as was done before the current National Development Plan. Third, crafting the follow-on plan through wide consultations and expert inputs, and fourth, taking it out for public engagement, amendment and finalisation. South Africa should align its planning horizon with the third 10-year implementation plan of the African Union's Agenda 2063. Its foreign and trade policies should focus on the continent, which objectively presents the most lucrative opportunities. The dialogue's first goal is more difficult but perhaps ultimately most important. In simple terms, South Africans need to recapture the dream of the Rainbow Nation, where poor people are not black, but simply poor people and where business is not white, but simply business. Even the Chapter 9 institutions created to promote equity and justice view pronouncements on race through the lens of past injustice, which is understandable but unhelpful in the context of our development challenges. South Africa needs to pursue a common citizenship and commitment to the future. Rekindling that non-racial vision could be the dialogue's largest contribution. But racial disparities in wealth, employment and education make this challenging, especially as race-based analyses have animated ANC breakaway parties, such as the Economic Freedom Fighters and the new uMkhonto Wesizwe party. Such analysis is also entrenched in most ANC factions. This does not mean sweeping the past under the carpet. But scratch deeply enough, and most countries have a brutal past. Ours is just more recent than most. How does South Africa forge a post-apartheid future when policies that are intended to promote inclusion undermine it? The National Dialogue's two objectives are closely linked. Only sustained, inclusive economic growth will allow us to deal with the results of our divided past and ameliorate its effects. To unlock growth, the country needs all hands on deck, particularly from those with the largest stock of education, wealth and access to finance. Unfortunately, given its shaky start, they are most likely to remain on the dialogue's periphery.
Daily Maverick
an hour ago
- Daily Maverick
The man in the three-piece suit — imagery and identities in Mandela's leadership (Part 3)
The use of imagery is well interred within the history of the ANC. When Nelson Mandela came onto the scene, wearing smart suits, it's legitimate to read some of his identity from the clothes that he wore. This is the third in a five-part series on Mandela's leadership. Imagery has always been important in liberation movement politics and history. In the case of the South African Native National Congress (the name of the African National Congress at its inception), the question of dress was always important. Many people responded with ridicule, suggesting that ANC leaders were dressing like their masters to beg the king and his government to provide some reforms that benefited a section of the ANC. Cultural writer John Berger said that the suit emerged as the dress code of the ruling class. What one can legitimately say is that wearing the dress of the ruling class is in a sense a claim for rights which the ANC was making. Likewise, when they sang Rule Britannia, it's important to understand that the ANC was still grappling for its identity as an African organisation. But in the context of competing powers – the Afrikaner Nationalists and the British – the ANC sided with the British and played divide and rule in reverse (a phrase I owe to Professor Peter Limb, a very significant Australian historian of the South African Struggle), with a claim to British subjectivity, meaning the rights of the British men and women. Rule Britannia has such words as 'Rule Britannia, Britannia, rule the waves: Britons never, never, shall be slaves'. In other words, having the rights of the British meant one could not be a slave, one had to be treated equally. The use of imagery is well interred within the history of the ANC. When Nelson Mandela came onto the scene, a man who was very self-conscious about his dress, wearing smart suits and similar attire, it's legitimate to read some of his identity from the clothes that he wore. (On dress and other cultural representations, see Raymond Suttner 'Periodisation, cultural construction and representation of ANC masculinities through dress, gesture and Indian Nationalist influence': Historia 2009, vol. 54, n.1, pp. 51-91). From early in his life Mandela was very conscious of who he was in relation to others – his identity or identities and the imagery that he deployed to reflect these. Given the pre-eminence in leadership that Mandela attained in later life, how he was perceived could have real material effects on the success of the often-fragile transition to democracy. It could impact on the state of conflict, whether or not the violence would increase or be reduced and ultimately eliminated. In the eyes of many white people, Mandela was a dangerous man who threatened their wellbeing, or this idea of Mandela was conjured up to scare the followers of certain organisations. To secure peace Mandela and the ANC had to counter that. On the side of very many black people, Mandela was admired for representing implacable opposition to apartheid domination, manifested through his unrepentant stance in court, after being the founding commander of uMkhonto weSizwe (MK). (This is, of course a perception that is being challenged by a new generation and some commentators who see Mandela as having 'gone soft' and actually having compromised the freedom for which he had fought, a claim that does not stand up against the evidence. This and negotiations need thorough probing, especially examining the tactical and strategic objectives at stake). After 1990, following the release of his comrades, return of exiles and the unbanning of organisations, but also earlier, from prison, Mandela took actions aimed at unblocking the stalemate that had developed between the apartheid regime and the forces of liberation. These were manifested in various agreements but Mandela then, and indeed throughout his life, also deployed symbolic gestures, ways of being, ways of self-representation that communicated messages about what he exemplified. Insofar as he was the primary figure in the leadership of the ANC and many looked to him to give a lead, what he did and how he appeared often mattered as much for the success of steps forward as what was contained in organisational decisions. It used to be wrong, in the organisational self-understanding and practices of the ANC and the SACP, for an individual to loom larger than the organisation, but it was a fact that Mandela may well, at certain times, have enjoyed substantially greater popularity than the ANC itself. In fact, this was largely a result of the ANC's campaigning. It had decided to galvanise international solidarity around Mandela as a leading political prisoner. Conscious of the place he occupied in the international pressure it faced, in 1985 the apartheid regime offered him conditional release, requiring him to renounce violence. But he rejected the offer, making it clear that he and the ANC had not sought violence but responded to the attacks of the apartheid regime. His standing had political effects. How Mandela conducted himself had more significant consequences in many ways than decisions of conferences and National Executive Committees in the period after his release. Mandela was conscious of the need to bear himself and represent himself in a manner that was inclusive and reinforced a peace process. In many ways there was a break with the Mandela of before, especially the man who went to prison. But in many respects the identities and imagery associated with him earlier were not erased but would periodically reappear when required, as when he felt betrayed by the primary negotiating party, the apartheid regime. Radicalism, as we saw in this and other instances, does not mean lack of flexibility. Early life Throughout Mandela's early life until after he arrived in Johannesburg, he was very conscious of what he was destined to be, not what he considered as existentially desirable or undesirable for himself or in a human being more generally. This was because he was 'destined' to become a counsellor to the future Thembu King, Sabata Dalindyebo. In consequence of this responsibility, the regent had often told Mandela that it was not for him 'to spend your life mining the white man's gold, never knowing how to write your name'. Shortly after his initiation ceremony, he was driven by the regent to attend the Clarkebury Boarding Institute in the district of Engcobo. For the first time at Clarkebury Mandela encountered a Western, non-African environment. He understood his life to be governed by his lineage, what he owed in respect to people like the regent, what was expected of him and the respect owed to him by virtue of his own position. But Clarkebury was not run on this basis: 'At Clarkebury… I quickly realised that I had to make my way on the basis of my ability, not my heritage. Most of my classmates could outrun me on the playing field and out-think me in the classroom and I had a good deal of catching up to do.' Despite his attempts to meet the criteria for excellence at Clarkebury, he remained psychologically and socially located in a manner that displaced individual agency, for Mandela's life had been preordained: 'I never thought it possible for a boy from the countryside to rival them in their worldliness. Yet I did not envy them. Even as I left Clarkebury, I was still, at heart, a Thembu, and I was proud to think and act like one. My roots were my destiny, and I believed that I would become a counsellor to the Thembu king, as my guardian wanted. My horizons did not extend beyond Thembuland and I believed that to be a Thembu was the most enviable thing in the world.' (My emphasis). Healdtown In 1937, at the age of 19, Mandela joined Justice, the regent's son, at Healdtown in Fort Beaufort. Like Clarkebury, Healdtown was a Methodist mission school. The principal, Dr Arthur Wellington, claimed to be a descendant of the Duke of Wellington who had saved civilisation 'for Europe and you, the Natives'. Mandela joined others in applauding, 'each of us profoundly grateful that a descendant of the great Duke of Wellington would take the trouble to educate natives such as ourselves'. Mandela's pride in being Thembu was not seen to be incompatible with aspiring to British subjectivity, an aspiration that was common to the early bearers of African political thinking in the Cape and even later in the ANC (Raymond Suttner, 'African nationalism' in Peter Vale, Lawrence Hamilton and Estelle Prinsloo (eds), South African intellectual traditions, (UKZN Press, 2014), 125, 129-132). The 'educated Englishman was our model; what we aspired to be were 'black Englishmen', as we were sometimes derisively called. We were taught – and believed – that the best ideas were English ideas, the best government was English government and the best men were Englishmen.' At Healdtown, Mandela mixed with Africans from a range of backgrounds and started to develop a cautious sense that he was part of something wider than the Thembu people, an African consciousness, though this was limited. When Mandela and Justice fled to the Rand to escape forced marriages, Mandela's consciousness was still primarily that of a Thembu, not even an African. The 1950s: Peaceful struggle but preparation for illegality and war During the 1940s a new radical current of thinking emerged under the leadership of the ANC Youth League (YL) and Mandela, although a relative political novice, became part of this. It is interesting to note that radical though they may have been and critical of their predecessors, the dress code of the YL was formal and by no means represented the type of associations that later generations of radicalism would have with casual or military dress. The Youth League dressed very much like their predecessors, with the exception of top hats and bow ties. In fact, some of these individuals like Mandela, especially when he qualified as an attorney, paid considerable attention to their appearance and the suits they wore. Ellen Khuzwayo writes: 'I remember the glamorous Nelson Mandela of those years. The beautiful white silk scarf he wore round his neck stands out in my mind to this day. Walter Max Sisulu, on the other hand, was a hardy down-to-earth man with practical clothing – typically a heavy coat and stout boots. Looking back, the third member of their trio, Oliver Tambo, acted as something of a balance with his middle-of-the road clothes!' This was a period when dress clearly served as a signifier of specific identities, notably masculinities. It was a time when gangsterism was rife in the townships and the main gangs were always distinguished not only by their daring law-breaking, but their flashy clothing. The 1950s was an era that comprised lawyers in suits, defendants in many court cases, volunteers who engaged in mass democratic campaigns collecting demands for what later became the Freedom Charter, just one of a number of mass activities of the time. In some ways, the Fifties, which are generally portrayed as struggling legally and nonviolently, were an interregnum between nonviolent, peaceful activities and the formal adoption of armed struggle by the ANC in 1961. In this period the imagery around Mandela as a boxer, a sport in which he engaged with considerable discipline, prefigured his later becoming a fighter of a different type. The image of Mandela as a boxer coexisted with his wearing a suit as a conventional lawyer. It also resonated with his militant image. Letsau Nelson Diale, recruited to the ANC while working as a waiter, read the newspapers: 'The people I worked with said: 'This young man is very clever.' They asked me: 'What's in the Rand Daily Mail?' I told them: 'Mandela is coming to court.' They said: 'He will beat the hell out of the boers. He is going to beat them.'' Here we see this image directly translated in the minds of ordinary waiters and patrons into violent action against the apartheid regime ('the boers'). Mandela: Black man in a white man's court In the first of Mandela's cases, after the banning of the ANC, where he was charged with incitement, having been underground for 17 months, he appeared in Thembu attire. This was at once an assertion of his lineage, deriving from a long line of warrior-leaders, and a declaration of the alien character of the white man's (for it was an almost exclusively male) judiciary. The imagery associated with his dress was used to deny the power and authority of the alien court. He tells the court of the bygone days when men were warriors fighting for their people and their land. He asserts what often tends to be submerged by an overarching African nationalism, his identity as a Thembu. He shows that he was a person with multiple identities, suppressed under apartheid. Mandela took this defiance into court proceedings, where he challenged the right of the court to preside over the case, in applying laws that he, as a black person, had no part in making. It was Mandela the lawyer and also the revolutionary speaking. It was more radical than delegitimising the apartheid state for Mandela refused to recognise the right of a key state institution – the judiciary – to hear his case. Dancing for freedom vs dancing as threat: The toyi-toyi of Mandela and Zuma In the post-1976 period the toyi-toyi emerged as a dance accompanying militant and military action. When Mandela was released from prison, it was a time where many ANC cadres were geared for war and felt disappointment at the onset of negotiations. As indicated earlier, many had not been adequately briefed on this changed direction, for they had been instructed to prepare for insurrection. One of the manifestations of the militaristic orientation then prevailing was the toyi-toyi. The dance was accompanied by aggressive chants with words exhorting people to hit and shoot the enemy. Mandela entered the groups who were dancing with his distinctive 'shuffle dance', smiling to all South Africans, affirming and evoking inclusivity, reaching out and unthreatening, as was the case with military exhortations. Jacob Zuma also deployed the toyi-toyi, notably in his rape trial, but it was very different. Zuma's demeanour was aggressive (then as it is now). After emerging from court Zuma would sing his 'favourite song' – Umshini wam/Bring me my machine gun. Singing about machine guns was itself at one level a manifestation of male power over women, a symbolic representation of the power of the gun – a phallic symbol. The firing of the gun is a well-known representation of ejaculation. In effect the song was a re-enactment of a rape (that the court found did not take place). Unlike Mandela's toyi-toyi-ing, Zuma's was threatening. Mandela's legacy of peace Mandela's gestures were never random and ad hoc. He knew that how he represented himself and how he was understood by others was important, bearing symbolic importance. He did not want a civil war. Whites had to be reassured, while simultaneously having his base constituency among oppressed black people understand that what he wanted to do would lead to political freedom. Graça Machel remarks: 'He knew exactly the way he wanted to come out, but also the way he addressed the people from the beginning, sending the message of what he thought was the best way to save lives in the country, to bring reconciliation.' Many people have remarked on the stolid, sometimes tedious way in which Mandela delivered his speeches. This, he told Richard Stengel, was deliberate in that he wanted to impress upon people that he was serious and could be relied upon and did not resort to rhetoric in order to please. (Nelson Mandela: Portrait of an Extraordinary Man. 2012, page 51). At the same time, in this period, some of what had been part of Mandela's private self became part of his public persona. In Fatima Meer's biography of Mandela, one sees the tenderness towards his children (Higher Than Hope: The Authorised Biography of Nelson Mandela, 1990). One of the features of Mandela as president and retired president has been his obviously unaffected love and gentleness towards children. What we see here is how aspects of his personality that had been submerged under the tough image of guerrilla leader and uncompromising triallist became foregrounded in the context of his changed life conditions. The Mandela who was imprisoned was remembered as a dignified yet angry man. The Mandela who emerged had become sober and evoked gravitas. He would often smile, yet the angry Mandela had not disappeared and could re-emerge where conditions made that necessary. On occasions where he felt betrayed by the last apartheid president, FW de Klerk, Mandela's anger would rise to the surface. In general, however, when we review the imagery surrounding Mandela, we see, as suggested earlier, a series of journeys, where he constantly changes, but without abandoning everything that he has been before. Even in his last days he remained attached to his Thembu identity and was buried near his place of birth. The Mandela who found peace for the country also found peace with himself as a man. DM
The South African
an hour ago
- The South African
Ian Cameron, DA MPs injured in brutal ‘targeted' attack
Ian Cameron injured in smash and grab. Images via X: @iancameron23 Police Portfolio Committee Chairperson Ian Cameron has recounted a horrific smash and grab he experienced alongside two fellow Democratic Alliance (DA) MPs in Cape Town's Philippi township. The trio – which includes Lisa Schickerling and Nicholas Gotsell – were ambushed after visiting a nearby SAPS training academy. IAN CAMERON AND OTHER DA MPS INJURED IN CAPE TOWN SMASH AND GRAB On Tuesday, 19 August, Ian Cameron and fellow DA MPs Lisa Schickerling and Nicholas Gotsell escaped a smash-and-grab after conducting official duties. ADVERTISEMENT The trio were returning from a surprise inspection of the SAPS Philippi Training Academy when their vehicle was ambushed. A group of unknown suspects broke the window of their car with bricks and brutally assaulted Cameron and his colleagues. The quick-thinking Police Portfolio Committee Chairperson retaliated with his own firearm, firing shots at the suspects. A bloodied Cameron suffered broken teeth and required facial stitches. His colleagues sustained minor head and neck injuries. Ian Cameron believes that it was a targeted attack on himself. He posted on his X account: 'This was a serious and deliberate attack, and it underscores the risks faced during oversight work. But incidents like this will not deter us. We remain determined to carry out our responsibility to ensure accountability and safety. ADVERTISEMENT According to authorities, the motive for the attack is not yet known. 'OUT OF CONTROL CRIME' The DA condemned the attack, calling on police to increase their presence in high-crime areas. The party's Chief Whip, George Michalakis, told IOL: 'This incident is a portrayal of the out-of-control crime that South Africans face daily. No one is exempt from it. 'We again call on the Minister of Police to properly resource SAPS in crime-ridden areas such as Philippi.' Ian Cameron is lucky to be alive after a horrific smash and grab. Image via X: @iancameron23 Parliament also denounced the criminal attack. 'The Presiding Officers express deep concern, noting that such shocking acts of criminality not only endanger the lives of elected representatives and members of the public but also undermine Parliament's constitutional duty to hold organs of state accountable through oversight', read its statement. HELEN ZILLE'S NARROW ESCAPE Ian Cameron isn't the only DA member to fall victim to a brutal attack. In 2003, Helen Zille narrowly escaped death when her Corsa was shot at in an attempted hijacking in Khayelitsha. At the time of the attack, Helen was driving home one evening after doing constituency work in the informal settlement. The bullet struck the back of her car seat, with Helen claiming that the springs of the cushion likely shielded her. DO YOU THINK IAN CAMERON'S SMASH AND GRAB WAS A RANDOM OR TARGETED ATTACK? Let us know by leaving a comment below, or send a WhatsApp to 060 011 021 1. Subscribe to The South African website's newsletters and follow us on WhatsApp, Facebook, X, and Bluesky for the latest news.
