Xolisa Phillip: ‘I was the mystery MP who complained to Madonsela’

WHEN the Constitutional Court delivered its Nkandla judgment last month, a “mystery MP”, who had filed a complaint about the spending debacle with the public protector’s office four years ago, punched the air.

In 2012, former DA national spokeswoman and erstwhile leader of the official opposition in parliament Lindiwe Mazibuko wrote to public protector Thuli Madonsela twice, urging her to probe whether President Jacob Zuma’s family had benefited unduly from upgrades being undertaken at the president’s Nkandla homestead.

Although she was not the only South African concerned about the unfolding scandal to approach the public protector, she was an MP and her correspondence allowed Madonsela’s office to carry out its full constitutional duty to investigate the executive.

In Madonsela’s Secure in Comfort report, Mazibuko and legal expert Pierre de Vos are named, but in the Constitutional Court judgment, she is cited only as a “member of parliament”.

“I didn’t watch the whole judgment, as I was working. I read the entire ruling the next day,” Mazibuko says.

“My immediate reaction to it was relief, but I was also disappointed, because it took the Constitutional Court to state the obvious.

“I punched the air . . . I was the mysterious MP, but we should not care about being named. And it wasn’t all my own effort – that ‘mystery MP’ was a team of 15 to 20 people in my office at the time who drafted letters and documents, and worked tirelessly to bring this issue to light.”

For years, the DA had fought hard for the establishment of a presidential committee made up of party leaders in parliament, but to no avail, she says. The Nkandla fiasco has underscored how difficult it is to hold the president to account in the absence of a dedicated committee responsible for this task.

Issues relating to the president are dealt with on an ad hoc basis, which limits the scope of what parliament can do, as there are no real mechanisms to discipline the head of state.

“You can set up committees, institute motions of no confidence and start probes in the ethics committee. However, all those steps are like pieces of a puzzle, because ultimately, the only tools you have are section 89 and section 102(2) [of the constitution] to remove him from office,” Mazibuko explains.

But parliament does not need a court ruling to impeach a president. “It has the power to conduct its own investigations, but ultimately, it’s a political decision.”

The other crucial aspect of the judgment, says Mazibuko, is that it now provides clarity on the separation of powers. “When you express outrage and the ANC justifies unlawful actions, you think to yourself, ‘perhaps I’ve missed something intellectually’.

“After seven years, you also begin to question your own sanity when something seems so clear, but the governing party insists otherwise,” she says. “When the court clarified the simple principle of remedial action, and that its implementation can never be considered optional, otherwise it has no force, hearing those words was absurdly comforting.”

The DA brought its first parliamentary motion of no confidence in 2012, alongside eight opposition parties.

“It was to show that there were ANC MPs who were fed up with Zuma’s leadership, even if it was only one or two. This was particularly apparent with the secrecy bill,” Mazibuko says.

She isn’t sure whether the DA’s move to impeach Zuma within days of the Constitutional Court’s ruling was premature.

“It’s hard to say whether or not it was premature when you’re on the sidelines. Such decisions are taken behind closed doors,” she says.

“But I know what I would have done. Perhaps, it would have been better to move together with the other opposition parties.”

She finds it astounding that many careers in the ANC have been sacrificed because of the scale of the cover-up.

“I had lodged many complaints before as a parliamentary backbencher, but Nkandla may have been my first as the leader of the official opposition in the house.

“I had been in the position for just over a year when I first wrote to the public protector. Not in a million years did I think Nkandla would drag on for as long as it did,” Mazibuko says. “We had turned to the courts before in other cases and lodged complaints with the South African Human Rights Commission. So, Nkandla, in essence, was not our first rodeo.

“When it came to the other cases, rulings came back quickly, but the real battle was compliance.”

But Nkandla is the first case in which there was so much fake reporting by government officials to avoid compliance, she adds.

What made things worse, was that this was happening while construction was taking place at the president’s home.

“I exited active politics in 2014, which was a conscious decision, and I’ve been out of SA for a while. I did not expect the acrimonious nature in which Nkandla was handled,” says Mazibuko, who now divides her time between South Africa and the US.

“When you work in parliament, you spend a lot of time with MPs from opposing parties and you collaborate across the political divide.

“MPs do a lot of work together behind the scenes. You reserve the fights for the National Assembly debate floor. But this (Nkandla) was the exception, not the norm.

“In those days, we had an outstanding speaker in Max Sisulu, as well as an outstanding leader of government business in Deputy President Kgalema Motlanthe,” she says.

Mazibuko notes that the public protector was created by the constitution and is accountable to parliament – which went to such extraordinary lengths to attack Madonsela in the issue.

“This is the first time it has gone to such extraordinary lengths to shield the executive. This was out of character for parliament and destructive to its reputation,” she says.

Although it’s been two years since she bowed out of the political scene, Mazibuko has not ruled out making a comeback. “Politics can be taxing and it’s easy to lose sight of why you’re in office; that’s why I left.

“I want to come back, but I want to do this when I know I have ideas that can take SA forward. I am capacitating myself, building contacts and making allies.

“I miss the cut-and-thrust of parliament. At the same time, I am loving reconnecting with my sense of purpose.”

When Helen Zille resigned as party leader, Mazibuko had to decide whether she would come back to South Africa and join the leadership contest.

“It’s important to note, though, that it’s not up to me – people have to elect me. I also thought about running for Johannesburg mayoral candidate, but it was not the right time.”

Although Mazibuko and others triggered the public protector’s Nkandla probe, it was her one-time political nemesis, EFF leader Julius Malema, who finished the job.

“There was plenty of bad blood between me and Julius when he was in the ANC . . . But they say a week is a long time in parliament, so five years is very, very long,” she says.

“He’s a different person . . . and so am I. I have no ill will towards him. We disagree on policy. That said, he did a great job with this case.”

Mazibuko is registered to vote in Durban North, “my old constituency” – she has checked with the IEC.

She is worried about the IEC’s difficulties in ascertaining the addresses of voters, as this is the first time there have been concerns about the commission’s readiness to hold an election.

“I worry about the implications for the youth and women – the biggest groups which have registered to vote. However, I am told that there is enough time for the IEC to rectify the situation. Circumstances permitting, I will vote in Durban North come August 3,” Mazibuko says.