Mathews Phosa: A Legacy of Leadership and Change

“Like the five presidents I have served, I have won and lost in my political career. Like them, I have utilised and squandered opportunities. Like most of them, I pray for a country in which all South Africans, black and white, will thrive. I will continue to work for a better life for all.”

This excerpt from Dr Mathews Phosa’s new book, Witness to Power: A Political Memoir, is a compelling introduction to what is being lauded as a candid look into this influential man’s journey through the many dramatic and often turbulent changes in political power that have characterised much of South Africa’s recent history.

Described as a “gripping story of underground activities, military operations, negotiations, political conflict and intrigue,” Phosa’s book reveals “new and fascinating insights into the ruling party and its leaders by an ANC elder who worked with them all.”

Even before reading this book, however, it’s obvious from only the briefest look at Mathews Phosa’s career, that he was always an exceptional man destined for influence and power.

Born in Mbombela township in Nelspruit, Mathews was raised by his grandfather in rural (what was then) Northern Transvaal near Mokopane (formerly Potgietersrus). He qualified as a lawyer against all odds, studying law at the University of the North, and raised more than a few eyebrows when he opened the first black-owned legal practice in Nelspruit in 1981.

A short four years later, however, he was forced into exile after becoming involved in underground activities with the Black Consciousness Movement, the UDF and the ANC. He underwent military training in East Germany, and later became the regional commander of uMkhonto weSizwe in Mozambique.

Interestingly, it was here that Mathews first served under Jacob Zuma as an MK field commander. This relationship no doubt planted the seeds that led to being given the role of treasurer-general of the ANC – a position he held from 2007 to 2012 - when Zuma became the party’s president.

Later, however, he became a vocal critic of Zuma, believing that the establishment of the MK party was the wrong decision. 

"You cannot be a president of a movement for 10 years then turn your back against it,” he said. “What are you trying to say? What message are you sending to young people? That you were not serious when you became president of the country, when people said you must unite the ANC, because now you are dividing it? I hold no grudge against him, but I don’t think he took the best decision of his life."

When the ANC was unbanned in 1990, Mathews was one of the first party members to return to South Africa and was instrumental in negotiations with the National Party government.

He went on to play a key part in transition initiatives like CODESA and became the head of the ANC’s legal department. His role was characterised by fierce debates with the then minister of law and order, Hernus Kriel, over issues such as the joint investigation by the South African Police and the ANC into the death of Chris Hani.

In 1994, newly elected president Nelson Mandela, with whom Phosa already had a strong relationship, appointed him premier of Mpumalanga, a position he held until 1999. He was also a member of the ANC’s National Executive Committee.

President Mandela’s successor, Thabo Mbeki, was not as big a fan, and pushed Phosa to the sidelines following what were proven to be false accusations that he was involved in a ‘plot’ to overthrow the president. He once again gained presidential favour under Cyril Ramaphosa, however (with whom he studied law at university in the 1970s) when he played a key advisory role in the Phala Phala controversy that threatened to end his presidency.

Phosa’s long and distinguished legal and political career is testimony to his unshakeable belief in the ideals of justice, equality, and empowerment. Both in the business and political arenas, he has served as a mentor to many young leaders and today, although no longer as active in politics as he once was, his passion for good governance and social justice are a constant inspiration.

Perhaps this is one of the reasons why, despite being a loyal member of the ANC and serving under no fewer than five of its presidents, Phosa pulls no punches when it comes to his feelings about the party’s fall from grace and declining popularity in recent years.

In his book, he describes his Damascus moment as coming in February 2017 when the DA proposed that parliament observe a minute of silence to commemorate the deaths of 94 people in the Life Esidimeni tragedy.

Speaker Baleka Mbete refused.

“I came to the realisation that the ANC that refused the motion was not the party I grew up in, and certainly not the party that campaigned on the slogan ‘A better life for all’,” he said.

Phosa believes “young people have no faith in democracy or politicians, because we fail to deliver basic services.”

“Perhaps when MPs take an oath, they should put a sticker on their foreheads, ‘thou shall not steal’,” he said. “How do you explain it when the auditor-general says R46 billion is unaccounted for? It is money that is gone – gone to the hands of people you have put in trust.”

At the age of 72, Mathews Phosa remains a respected and influential figure. He is often invited to speak at business forums, political conferences, and other public events, and is frequently outspokenly vocal about the need for improved leadership within the ANC and the government.

Outside of politics, Dr. Phosa has served on various boards as chairman, vice-chairman or board member, including the University of South Africa, Afrikaanse Handelsinstituut, Special Olympics South Africa, Value Logistics, EOH (Pty) Ltd, SA Golden Leaf, and Hans Merensky Holdings.

He is also an accomplished poet, and has published two volumes of poetry: Deur die oog van ’n naald  (Through the eye of a needle) and Chants of Freedom.

Phosa often received harsh criticism for his well-known love of the Afrikaans language (one of the nine that he speaks) – and also for employing white people in his businesses. And yet Afrikaans proved an integral part of his time in exile in Mozambique.

At the time, President Samora Machel told him that his intelligence people were struggling to understand intercepted South African information because it was in Afrikaans. Phosa then developed a course in Afrikaans for Mozambican officials, taught classes in it, and distributed Afrikaans books among schools.

“Of all my tasks in exile, this was one of the most enjoyable,” he writes. “Not only did I contribute to the Mozambican intelligence community but also to the export of Afrikaans to a neighbouring state. I expanded my own knowledge, learning new nuances through the study material we smuggled into the country, and was able to keep the language on my tongue and practice it daily.

“I am not ashamed to say this period deepened my love of the beautiful Afrikaans language and contributed to my writing in it.”

Dr Phosa, sir, we both love the Afrikaans language, and I am both proud and humbled to have this in common with you. I also share the dream you express in your book, when you ask the question, “Is there space for a new party that can mobilise the support of the new generation of educated, ambitious, entrepreneurial voters who yearn for honest, effective, and inclusive government?”

Time will tell.