Latest news with #politicalpower
Mail & Guardian
2 days ago
- Politics
- Mail & Guardian
MK party's power problem: The fragility of proximity politics
Former South African President Jacob Zuma speaks during a media briefing for his party uMkhonto we Sizwe (MK), on June 16, 2024, at Capital Hotel in Sandton, outside Johannesburg. (Photo by Per-) Floyd Shivambu's redeployment from the position of secretary general of the uMkhonto weSizwe (MK) party to a seat in parliament is not simply a procedural shift. It is a symbolic moment that pulls back the curtain on the inner workings of a party still constructing its identity — and, more crucially, its power logic. What this moment makes increasingly difficult to ignore is that the party's internal architecture does not yet rest on collective governance or principled leadership. It rests, quite plainly, on proximity. Proximity to the president general. Proximity to Jacob Zuma. Whether framed as discipline or realignment, Shivambu's redeployment — following a controversial trip to visit the self-proclaimed prophet, Shepherd Bushiri, who fled to his home country while out on bail for charges including fraud and rape — confirms a pattern we've seen brewing. In the MK party, political power is often determined not by mandate or merit, but by access. It is not a political machine with autonomous moving parts, but a gravitational field orbiting one figure. And this is not said to villainise the party. If anything, it emerged precisely because its founders felt other formations had drifted too far from accountability, too far from the masses, too far from the revolutionary ethics they once claimed to embody. The MK party was meant to offer something different. Perhaps even something radical. But this is where it gets complicated. If difference is defined by unwavering loyalty to one individual — regardless of title or structure — then how different is it really? Shivambu's reassignment, reportedly justified by a clause in the party's constitution prohibiting international engagements that conflict with the party line, might appear procedurally sound. However, political observers can't help but note the speed and decisiveness with which this rule was invoked — and for this individual. It's not the rule itself that tells the story. It's when and for whom the rule is enforced. We are seeing a party where key positions — secretary general, spokesperson, even senior deployees — do not enjoy stable mandates. They exist at the mercy of internal currents, shifting alliances and, perhaps most significantly, Zuma's confidence. Today you are central. Tomorrow, the centre moves without you. And this is precisely the problem with proximity politics: it is inherently fragile. When power flows through informal networks and personal bonds, it becomes difficult to institutionalise accountability, manage internal dissent and ensure consistent policy direction. You can be right and still be removed. You can be effective and still be sidelined. Because the metric is not effectiveness — it's alignment. This is why Shivambu's removal matters beyond his person. It points to a deeper reality in the MK party — that its centre of gravity is not ideological coherence or organisational structure. It is one man. And that has consequences. This is not a judgment about Zuma as an individual. It is a political concern about what happens when the centre cannot hold. The MK party's biggest challenge is not winning court cases or keeping its logo. It's this: how does a party that centralises so much power in one figure imagine itself beyond that figure? Because proximity works — for a while. It works when the central figure is present, powerful, active. But what happens when the centre can no longer hold? When the ear you once spoke into is no longer there? Zuma is not a young man, and history is filled with movements that could not survive their founders. If the MK party is to truly become the political home for a return to revolutionary ethics, then it must ask itself: can it build a structure that outlives proximity? That is the real revolutionary task. Not merely to rally around the centre but to prepare for its eventual absence. Thando Mzimela-Ntuli is the president of the National Executive Economic Collective.
CNN
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- CNN
Why ‘Good Night, and Good Luck's' 1950s story of media intimidation is eerily relevant in Trump's America
The historical echoes in 'Good Night, and Good Luck' are extraordinary. Some might even say they're eerie. On Saturday at 7pm ET, viewers around the world can see for themselves when CNN televises the blockbuster hit Broadway play starring George Clooney. The play transports viewers back to the 1950s but feels equally relevant in the 2020s with its themes of unrestrained political power, corporate timidity and journalistic integrity. Add 'Good Night, Good Luck' on CNN to your calendar: Apple / Outlook or Google The real-life drama recounted in the play took place at CBS, the same network that is currently being targeted by President Donald Trump. That's one of the reasons why the play's dialogue feels ripped from recent headlines. Clooney plays Edward R. Murrow, the iconic CBS journalist who was once dubbed 'the man who put a spine in broadcasting.' Murrow helmed 'See It Now,' a program that pioneered the new medium of television by telling in-depth stories, incorporating film clips and interviewing newsmakers at a time when other shows simply relayed the headlines. Get Reliable Sources newsletter Sign up here to receive Reliable Sources with Brian Stelter in your inbox. In the early '50s, Murrow and producing partner Fred Friendly were alarmed by what Friendly called in his 1967 memoir the 'problem of blacklisting and guilt by association.' At the time, the country was gripped by Cold War paranoia, some of it stoked by Senator Joseph McCarthy's trumped-up claims about communist infiltration of the government, Hollywood and other sectors. In a later era, McCarthy would have been accused of spreading misinformation and attacking free speech. Murrow and Friendly thought about devoting an episode to the senator and his investigations, but they wanted a dramatic way to illustrate the subject. They found it with Milo Radulovich, an Air Force reserve officer who was fired over his relatives' alleged communist views. Radulovich was a compelling, sympathetic speaker on camera, and Murrow's report on him not only stunned viewers across the country, but it also led the Air Force to reverse course. 'The Radulovich program was television's first attempt to do something about the contagion of fear that had come to be known as McCarthyism,' Friendly recalled. That's where 'Good Night, and Good Luck' begins — with a journalistic triumph that foreshadowed fierce reports about McCarthy's witch hunts and attempted retaliation by the senator and his allies. Clooney first made the project into a movie in 2005. It was adapted for the stage last year and opened on Broadway in March, this time with Clooney playing Murrow instead of Friendly. Both versions recreate Murrow's actual televised monologues and feature McCarthy's real filmed diatribes. 'The line between investigating and persecuting is a very fine one,' Murrow said in a pivotal essay about McCarthy, uttering words that could just as easily apply to Trump's campaign of retribution. A moment later, Murrow accused McCarthy of exploiting people's fears. The same charge is leveled against Trump constantly. 'This is no time for men who oppose Senator McCarthy's methods to keep silent, or for those who approve,' Murrow said, sounding just like the activists who are urging outspoken resistance to Trump's methods. In April, Trump issued an executive order directing the Justice Department to investigate Miles Taylor, a former Trump homeland security official who penned an essay and a book, 'Anonymous,' about the president's recklessness. This week Taylor spoke out about being on Trump's 'blacklist,' using the same language that defined the Red Scare of the '50s and destroyed many careers back then. 'People are afraid,' Taylor said on CNN's 'The Arena with Kasie Hunt.' He warned that staying silent, ducking from the fight, only empowers demagogues. Murrow did not duck. Other journalists had excoriated McCarthy earlier, in print and on the radio, but Murrow met the medium and the moment in 1954, demonstrating the senator's smear tactics and stirring a severe public backlash. Afterward, McCarthy targeted not just Murrow, but also the CBS network and Alcoa, the single corporate sponsor of 'See It Now.' McCarthy threatened to investigate the aluminum maker. 'We're in for a helluva fight,' CBS president William Paley told Murrow. The two men were friends and allies, but only to a point. Paley had to juggle the sponsors, CBS-affiliated stations across the country, and government officials who controlled station licenses. In a Paley biography, 'In All His Glory,' Sally Bedell Smith observed that two key commissioners at the FCC, the federal agency in charge of licensing, were 'friends of McCarthy.' The relationship between Paley and Murrow was ultimately fractured for reasons that are portrayed in the play. Looking back at the Murrow years, historian Theodore White wrote that CBS was 'a huge corporation more vulnerable than most to government pressure and Washington reprisal.' Those exact same words could be written today, as CBS parent Paramount waits for the Trump-era FCC to approve its pending merger with Skydance Media. Billions of dollars are on the line. The merger review process has been made much more complicated by Trump's lawsuit against CBS, in which he baselessly accuses '60 Minutes' of trying to tip the scales of the 2024 election against him. While legal experts have said CBS is well-positioned to defeat the suit, Paramount has sought to strike a settlement deal with Trump instead. Inside '60 Minutes,' 'everyone thinks this lawsuit is an act of extortion, everyone,' a network correspondent told CNN. In a crossover of sorts between the '50s and today, Clooney appeared on '60 Minutes' in March to promote the new play. He invoked the parallels between McCarthyism and the present political climate. 'ABC has just settled a lawsuit with the Trump administration,' Clooney said. 'And CBS News is in the process…' There, Jon Wertheim's narration took over, as the correspondent explained Trump's lawsuit. 'We're seeing this idea of using government to scare or fine or use corporations to make journalists smaller,' Clooney said. He called it a fight 'for the ages.' Trump watched the segment, and he belittled Clooney as a 'second-rate movie 'star'.' On stage, Clooney as Murrow challenges theatergoers to consider the roles and responsibilities of both journalists and corporate bosses. Ann M. Sperber, author of a best-selling biography, 'Murrow: His Life and Times,' found that Murrow was asking himself those very questions at the dawn of the TV age. Murrow, she wrote, sketched out an essay for The Atlantic in early 1949 but never completed it. He wrote notes to himself about 'editorial control' over news, about 'Who decides,' and whether the television business will 'regard news as anything more than a saleable commodity?' Murrow wrote to himself that we 'need to argue this out before patterns become set and we all begin to see pictures of our country and the world that just aren't true.' Seventy-six years later, the arguments are as relevant and necessary today.
CNN
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- CNN
Why ‘Good Night, and Good Luck's' 1950s story of media intimidation is eerily relevant in Trump's America
The historical echoes in 'Good Night, and Good Luck' are extraordinary. Some might even say they're eerie. On Saturday at 7pm ET, viewers around the world can see for themselves when CNN televises the blockbuster hit Broadway play starring George Clooney. The play transports viewers back to the 1950s but feels equally relevant in the 2020s with its themes of unrestrained political power, corporate timidity and journalistic integrity. Add 'Good Night, Good Luck' on CNN to your calendar: Apple / Outlook or Google The real-life drama recounted in the play took place at CBS, the same network that is currently being targeted by President Donald Trump. That's one of the reasons why the play's dialogue feels ripped from recent headlines. Clooney plays Edward R. Murrow, the iconic CBS journalist who was once dubbed 'the man who put a spine in broadcasting.' Murrow helmed 'See It Now,' a program that pioneered the new medium of television by telling in-depth stories, incorporating film clips and interviewing newsmakers at a time when other shows simply relayed the headlines. Get Reliable Sources newsletter Sign up here to receive Reliable Sources with Brian Stelter in your inbox. In the early '50s, Murrow and producing partner Fred Friendly were alarmed by what Friendly called in his 1967 memoir the 'problem of blacklisting and guilt by association.' At the time, the country was gripped by Cold War paranoia, some of it stoked by Senator Joseph McCarthy's trumped-up claims about communist infiltration of the government, Hollywood and other sectors. In a later era, McCarthy would have been accused of spreading misinformation and attacking free speech. Murrow and Friendly thought about devoting an episode to the senator and his investigations, but they wanted a dramatic way to illustrate the subject. They found it with Milo Radulovich, an Air Force reserve officer who was fired over his relatives' alleged communist views. Radulovich was a compelling, sympathetic speaker on camera, and Murrow's report on him not only stunned viewers across the country, but it also led the Air Force to reverse course. 'The Radulovich program was television's first attempt to do something about the contagion of fear that had come to be known as McCarthyism,' Friendly recalled. That's where 'Good Night, and Good Luck' begins — with a journalistic triumph that foreshadowed fierce reports about McCarthy's witch hunts and attempted retaliation by the senator and his allies. Clooney first made the project into a movie in 2005. It was adapted for the stage last year and opened on Broadway in March, this time with Clooney playing Murrow instead of Friendly. Both versions recreate Murrow's actual televised monologues and feature McCarthy's real filmed diatribes. 'The line between investigating and persecuting is a very fine one,' Murrow said in a pivotal essay about McCarthy, uttering words that could just as easily apply to Trump's campaign of retribution. A moment later, Murrow accused McCarthy of exploiting people's fears. The same charge is leveled against Trump constantly. 'This is no time for men who oppose Senator McCarthy's methods to keep silent, or for those who approve,' Murrow said, sounding just like the activists who are urging outspoken resistance to Trump's methods. In April, Trump issued an executive order directing the Justice Department to investigate Miles Taylor, a former Trump homeland security official who penned an essay and a book, 'Anonymous,' about the president's recklessness. This week Taylor spoke out about being on Trump's 'blacklist,' using the same language that defined the Red Scare of the '50s and destroyed many careers back then. 'People are afraid,' Taylor said on CNN's 'The Arena with Kasie Hunt.' He warned that staying silent, ducking from the fight, only empowers demagogues. Murrow did not duck. Other journalists had excoriated McCarthy earlier, in print and on the radio, but Murrow met the medium and the moment in 1954, demonstrating the senator's smear tactics and stirring a severe public backlash. Afterward, McCarthy targeted not just Murrow, but also the CBS network and Alcoa, the single corporate sponsor of 'See It Now.' McCarthy threatened to investigate the aluminum maker. 'We're in for a helluva fight,' CBS president William Paley told Murrow. The two men were friends and allies, but only to a point. Paley had to juggle the sponsors, CBS-affiliated stations across the country, and government officials who controlled station licenses. In a Paley biography, 'In All His Glory,' Sally Bedell Smith observed that two key commissioners at the FCC, the federal agency in charge of licensing, were 'friends of McCarthy.' The relationship between Paley and Murrow was ultimately fractured for reasons that are portrayed in the play. Looking back at the Murrow years, historian Theodore White wrote that CBS was 'a huge corporation more vulnerable than most to government pressure and Washington reprisal.' Those exact same words could be written today, as CBS parent Paramount waits for the Trump-era FCC to approve its pending merger with Skydance Media. Billions of dollars are on the line. The merger review process has been made much more complicated by Trump's lawsuit against CBS, in which he baselessly accuses '60 Minutes' of trying to tip the scales of the 2024 election against him. While legal experts have said CBS is well-positioned to defeat the suit, Paramount has sought to strike a settlement deal with Trump instead. Inside '60 Minutes,' 'everyone thinks this lawsuit is an act of extortion, everyone,' a network correspondent told CNN. In a crossover of sorts between the '50s and today, Clooney appeared on '60 Minutes' in March to promote the new play. He invoked the parallels between McCarthyism and the present political climate. 'ABC has just settled a lawsuit with the Trump administration,' Clooney said. 'And CBS News is in the process…' There, Jon Wertheim's narration took over, as the correspondent explained Trump's lawsuit. 'We're seeing this idea of using government to scare or fine or use corporations to make journalists smaller,' Clooney said. He called it a fight 'for the ages.' Trump watched the segment, and he belittled Clooney as a 'second-rate movie 'star'.' On stage, Clooney as Murrow challenges theatergoers to consider the roles and responsibilities of both journalists and corporate bosses. Ann M. Sperber, author of a best-selling biography, 'Murrow: His Life and Times,' found that Murrow was asking himself those very questions at the dawn of the TV age. Murrow, she wrote, sketched out an essay for The Atlantic in early 1949 but never completed it. He wrote notes to himself about 'editorial control' over news, about 'Who decides,' and whether the television business will 'regard news as anything more than a saleable commodity?' Murrow wrote to himself that we 'need to argue this out before patterns become set and we all begin to see pictures of our country and the world that just aren't true.' Seventy-six years later, the arguments are as relevant and necessary today.
CNN
4 days ago
- Politics
- CNN
Analysis: Who holds the cards in Trump vs. Musk? Trump, but …
It remains to be seen whether President Donald Trump and Elon Musk can patch things up after their ugly break-up this week – as many around them are hoping. But as their feud devolved into highly personal attacks on Thursday, one of the most interesting facets was this: Musk leaned in on a potential power struggle. He didn't just criticize Trump or his agenda bill that Republicans are trying to enact; he talked about unseating Republicans who voted for that 'disgusting abomination.' He mused about forming a third party. He suggested Trump needed him – claiming Trump would have lost in 2024 without his support. He repeatedly played up X posts suggesting people would have to choose between him and Trump – and sent a not-subtle warning to those who might choose wrongly. 'Oh and some food for thought as they ponder this question: Trump has 3.5 years left as President, but I will be around for 40+ years,' Musk wrote on his social media platform. In other words: Make sure you think long and hard about what you do next, because you could live to regret it. So assuming for the moment that this feud continues, who holds the cards? There is no question that, if truly forced to choose, the vast majority of Republican powerbrokers would choose Trump. But it's not quite so simple. Vice President JD Vance, after hours of somewhat conspicuous silence Thursday, eventually came down firmly in Trump's corner (in case there was any doubt) – albeit without criticizing Musk. Other Trump allies who aren't fond of Musk and his influence seemed to seize on the opportunity to try and excommunicate him – in Steve Bannon's case, somewhat literally, as he suggested Trump should deport the South African-born Musk, who's now a US citizen. Musk — the wealthiest man in the world — is a relative newcomer to politics, having only really joined the conservative movement less than a year ago (after the assassination attempt against Trump in Butler, Pennsylvania). Trump, by contrast, often seems to have an almost cult-like influence over his side of the political divide, transforming the GOP into one that's much more about loyalty to him than any particular set of ideals or principles. The president often flip-flops – Musk on Thursday noted Trump was once a professed deficit hawk just like him – and the base often flips right alongside him. When Trump says something baseless or false (like that the 2020 election was stolen) much of his party internalizes it and rallies around it. This is Trump's party, full stop. But when it comes to how much this feud could matter, it's not quite as simple as who picks what side. Musk retains real influence, and that's why we're seeing many Republicans resist that binary choice. A persistent rift with Musk would force Republicans to reckon with some uneasy dynamics. Musk's overall popularity has clearly taken a hit as the Department of Government Efficiency has fallen out of favor. And he's definitely not as popular as Trump is on the right. Musk's personal politics and tech-world background always made this a somewhat uneasy marriage with Trump, and the president's agenda bill has unearthed some of those tensions. But Musk has retained significant Republican support even as the DOGE effort has struggled. In fact, his stature eclipses most Republicans not named Trump or Vance. An April Reuters/Ipsos poll, for instance, showed 54% of Republicans had a 'very favorable' opinion of Trump, and 50% said the same of Trump's vice president. But Musk wasn't far behind, at 43%. He was well ahead of other Trump administration figures like Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth (33%) and then-national security adviser Michael Waltz (18%). Similarly, a more recent Marquette University Law School poll showed Musk's 'very favorable' number among all Americans (22%) coming up just shy of Trump (25%) and matching Vance. And that's even after the polling decline of DOGE. Musk's DOGE work has also remained quite popular in GOP circles. An April New York Times/Siena College poll showed 63% of Republicans and 70% of Trump voters said they 'strongly support' the cuts made by Musk and DOGE. The flip side is that even if Republicans really like Musk – in numbers that aren't that far from Trump's own – that doesn't mean their devotion to him is comparable. It's possible to really like two people but clearly like one of them more. And there have been signs that Republicans don't necessarily want more of Musk. Polling from Quinnipiac University in early April, for example, showed while 71% of Republicans said he had about the right amount of power to make decisions in the Trump administration, just 8% thought he had too little. And all of this is before the rift with Trump. Toss on a few days or weeks of potential missives from the president, and it's likely Musk's numbers among Republicans would crater. But that's not the same as saying a rift between these two billionaires wouldn't matter. Musk not only has retained plenty of goodwill from Republicans of late, but he wields immense influence via his personal fortune and ownership of perhaps the preeminent social media platform for politics, X. We've seen before that Musk can drive support for initiatives he likes and torpedo things he doesn't. He has used his control of X's moderation policies and algorithm to boost his own posts and at times silence his critics, as the Washington Post noted Thursday. And he's proven plenty willing and able to seed unsubstantiated theories about his political opponents, as he did Thursday with his posts linking Trump to Jeffrey Epstein. Toss on top of that the wealth that Musk has proven increasingly willing to deploy on politics (i.e. potential primary challengers) and his promise to be a force for decades to come, and it's not an easy call to disown him. We'll see if Musk and Trump intend to force that choice on the Republican Party.
The National
5 days ago
- Business
- The National
Elon Musk's departure proves no one lasts long in the spotlight beside Donald Trump
Last year, the world's richest man, Elon Musk, lavished hundreds of millions of dollars on the presidential campaign of then-candidate Donald Trump, in a transparent effort to translate his vast wealth into personal political power. After Mr Trump returned to the White House, with Mr Musk in tow, it seemed that was indeed happening. Mr Musk was such a regular fixture in the White House that there was even silly talk of a co-presidency. But now the billionaire is gone, unlikely ever to return to the Washington halls of power. In truth, Mr Musk's tenure at the " Department of Government Efficiency" could have been better at its purported tax-cutting mission. Its goal, Mr Musk boasted in the lead-up to the election, was to save the federal government $2 trillion, though he later revised that figure to $1tn. Yet despite pulling out chainsaws on stage and gloating over the mass sackings of eminent, respectable and dedicated public servants, not to mention the gutting of crucial public and human service programmes, he barely made a dent in the federal budget. The most charitable calculation of the actual 'savings' incurred to date is around $175 billion, though Doge has published evidence purported to substantiate less than half of this. Mr Musk seems especially proud of the de facto shuttering of the US Agency for International Development and the elimination of many of its key humanitarian programmes. Although Secretary of State Marco Rubio spent much of last week denying that anyone has died because of the elimination of these crucial programmes, some experts think that the only real question is only whether these deaths, in only a few weeks, must be counted in the thousands, tens of thousands, or hundreds of thousands. Journalists and Democratic lawmakers have pointed out specific cases, such as individually named orphaned children in rural Africa who were depending for survival on HIV medicine that was suddenly yanked away by the world's richest man. They're now verifiably and needlessly dead. Despite pulling out chainsaws on stage and gloating over the mass sackings of public servants, Mr Musk barely made a dent in the federal budget There are many other examples. But, as one Republican Senator, Joni Ernst, told constituents worried about their own health care last week: "Well, we are all going to die." That's as true of an impoverished African orphan as anyone else, from the point of view of a millionaire US senator or billionaire venture capitalist. Apart from the decimation of programmes and mass dismissal of public servants, Mr Musk's tenure provided the public with a close look at his lifestyle. It is inspiring to those who think people ought to have more children. He has been energetically promoting large families, in both theory and in practice. He has denied reports from The New York Times that he regularly consumed illegal drugs and amphetamines like Adderall. It might be unfair to speculate that as he was reshaping US government, Mr Musk was frequently in an altered state of consciousness. But we do know that Mr Musk and his crew had, with minimal oversight, access to the most sensitive data on not just public employees and the government, but taxpayers and the general public. The fate of this data is unknown. An even more troubling reality is that his activities were unsupervised, unconfirmed and unvetted. He had no security clearance, or even a security clearance investigation. Mr Musk's Washington adventure illustrates exactly why the founders of the American republic insisted the Senate needed to confirm all senior appointees. This has become an increasingly marginalised procedure, but the wisdom of this check has been amply illustrated by the Musk-Trump transactional relationship. While the two still praise each other, the actual chasm between them grows ever wider. Mr Musk has been increasingly vocal in condemning the " big, beautiful budget bill" that the Republican-dominated Senate is trying to pass at Mr Trump's behest. The billionaire says it is the antithesis of everything he was trying to do, since it may greatly increase the federal budget. He could never say any such thing if he were still connected to the White House. Mr Trump increasingly had little time for his billionaire former buddy. You could see it coming from the very outset. The administration could not contain two alpha males, and Washington was never going to be big enough for both of them. The only surprise is that Mr Musk lasted as long as he did. No one lasts too long in the spotlight next to Mr Trump.
