Johannesburg - Lechesa Tsenoli wore the stricken expression of an air traffic controller whose radar screen had gone blank. It was the afternoon of Wednesday, November 19, and the Deputy Speaker of Parliament watched helplessly as hands clutching white sheets of paper sprouted from the blocs of MPs on both sides of the aisle.
The DA was bringing a motion of censure against President Jacob Zuma and the House was on edge.
A forest of arms waved at him, demanding his attention. They multiplied as his eyes darted from side to side, desperately trying to keep track. He needed to acknowledge them in turn.
He needed to be scrupulously fair, recognising them in the order in which they had been raised, but it was becoming impossible to tell who was first. If he failed to act fairly he would invite howls of indignation from the offended parties, accusing him, again, of bias.
It was the second filibuster in a week – and a previously arcane parliamentary tactic was suddenly trending on Twitter.
It has been a strange parliamentary year and Tsenoli might have been reminded – as the presiding officer who has shouldered more than his fair share of time in the hot seat – of the Chinese curse, “may you live in interesting times”.
By Thursday, when the National Assembly held a special sitting to deal with the unfinished business of punishing Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) MPs for their part in the “pay back the money” incident of August 21, Tsenoli was like a goalkeeper who no longer knew where he was standing in relation to his goals, glancing anxiously over his shoulder instead of facing the threat in front of him.
First he fielded a barrage of points of order arising from a claim by the chairman of the committee that a decision not to call Speaker Baleka Mbete as a witness in the matter had been unanimous.
The other parties represented on the committee disputed this version of events, but Tsenoli held that the committee chairman, Lemias Mashile (ANC), was entitled to put forward any version he chose. Those who disagreed could say so when it was their turn to speak.
In countless points of order, the EFF asked whether Mashile was presenting a summary of the committee’s report – in which case he should do so accurately – or the views of the ANC.
Tsenoli seemed unsure.
Then, when it seemed a vote on the ANC’s motion that the committee’s findings be adopted could no longer be delayed, EFF chief whip Floyd Shivambu proposed an amendment to the motion. Given the nod by Tsenoli, he quoted the entire EFF submission to the committee, and the public protector and Special Investigating Unit’s reports on Nkandla – among them about 700 pages.
Eventually, Deputy Home Affairs Minister Fatima Chohan said he’d been given at least five chances to say what his proposed amendment was. It was clear he didn’t have one.
Three and a half hours into what should have been a debate of just under 80 minutes, Science and Technology Minister Naledi Pandor had had enough.
“Deputy Speaker, you are now confronted by the consequences of not allowing the procedures of the House to be pursued, and they should be in terms of the rules,” she thundered.
She had hit the nail on the head.
After months of relentless pressure, accusations of bias and unprecedented scenes of riot police entering Parliament, Tsenoli was buckling under the strain.
He was overcompensating, trying so hard to seem neutral that he could hardly make a ruling without second-guessing himself.
He should have been able to slap Shivambu down in minutes, but his authority had deserted him. Quite possibly he will pay the price for this performance, which clearly angered senior ANC figures, but this would be unfair.
He is a victim of a bigger phenomenon, that pointed out by Pandor. Tsenoli felt the need to overcompensate because he was aware the rules had been bent and only fastidious fairness stood any chance of averting an implosion of order.
Unfortunately, as he discovered, once authority has evaporated it is almost impossible to recover.
One blatant example of selective application of the rules was, on the day the Nkandla report was to be adopted, Mbete’s attempt to forestall a DA filibuster by trying to limit the time for the proposing of motions.
She insisted she could do this on the basis of the rules. In the face of heated opposition, she surrendered.
But the most glaring instance is Zuma’s refusal to appear in Parliament to answer questions. The rules require that he do so once a quarter, but he has done so only once this year.
On Thursday, Tsenoli faced the unenviable task of trying to uphold “decorum”, chastising MPs for relatively minor infringements, while everyone knew the president was guilty of a much more serious breach – ignoring Parliament’s authority altogether.
Tsenoli sat like the naked emperor in his personal chamber of horrors because Parliament has been stripped of its authority. No display of overzealous fairness will bring it back. This has been, without question, Parliament’s annus horribilis.
“Have a bad Christmas,” one EFF MP was heard to wish his colleagues as the party trooped out of the National Assembly after the sanctions on its members had been adopted.
Independent Media