Oil: It’s not just about the money

oilriginafrica

What happened in those countries outside of the Middle East in which oil was found? The countries in Africa, which collectively form the world largest oil producers after that region, for example. The top oil producing country in Africa is Nigeria which produces 2.2-million barrels a day, making fourth largest exporter of oil in the world. 

This question arose late after supper among some journalists who were in Abu Dhabi as part of the Emirates Centre for Strategic Studies and Research (ECSSR), which was celebrating its 20 anniversary. The initial question that prompted it was, ‘How did the United Arab Emirates (UAE) become such a successful nation?’

The casual response was, of course, oil money. But as Acemoglu and Robinson point out in How Nations Fail: The origins of Power, Prosperity and Poverty ‘the windfall of wealth has done little to create diversified modern economies in Saudi Arabia or Kuwait’. One of the reasons the authors give for nations failing is the lack of a diversified economy. So why did it work for the UAE? Another response was that the UAE wasn’t a nation but actually a very large – and very successful – corporation, but that dodges the question.

Abu Dhabi had changed since I was last here more than 20 years ago. It looked the same: lots of new buildings, just more of them. The driver, with the zoned-in attention of a fighter pilot, swept from the airport along the broad highways and through the empty streets to drop me at the hotel as the sun rose harsh and fast. Dawn lasts an instant here on the far edge of the Empty Quarter.

The Centre, which has the backing of the Crown Prince of Abu Dhabi, Sheikh Mohammed bib Zayed al Nahyan and who is the Centre’s president operates as a sort of microcosm of the United Arab Emirates: an efficient, fully resourced and effective corporate entity. Its mission, said Dr Jamal Sand Al-Suwaidi, director-general of the centre, is ‘to support national decision making and serve both the UAE and GCC societies’.

Al-Suwaidi emphasised that the UAE is where it is because of its ‘clear strategy and methodology’ that was amply supported by the ‘quality of the management and the thoroughness of the research of ECSSR. The think-tank has produced more than 1 000 publications, hosted more than 800 events and published more than 20 000 of research papers in the fields of politics, economy, military, security and social studies. In short, it forms part of the inclusive political institutions required to make a nation successful.

How do the oil producing nations in Africa then measure up?

Historically, the UAE grew out of what were referred to in the 1850s as the “Trucial Sheikhdoms”, the majority of which now comprise the seven entities that make up the UAE. Earlier in the 1800s, the tribal leaders of the region reached an agreement with Britain to counter the piracy that interfered with their lucrative trading routes to India and the rest of the world. In return, Britain would provide protection against land or sea invasions — and pirates. Once oil was discovered in the 1960s, first in Abu Dhabi, the leaders realised they needed to present a more united front, and formed the Trucial States Council. At the time it included Bahrain and Qatar.

In 1968, however, Britain decided it could no longer afford to provide the protection it had agreed to and in 1971 they withdrew. Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan, the ruler of Abu Dhabi gathered the Trucial States Council and attempted to form a federation. It failed; Qatar and Bahrain became independent and the regions most powerful leader (and the father of the man behind the ECSSR), the Sheikh of Abu Dhabi then persuaded his counterpart in Dubai to form a union. But first, he stipulated, they must draw up a constitution. The plan was then to invite the five other states to join them, which they did in 1971 (with Ras al-Khaimah coming to the party a few months later).

This matter of drawing up a constitution is an important point. Acemoglu and Robinson point out that in order for nations to succeed its citizens must “trust the institutions and the rule of law that these generated”. Such institutions – economic or political – they term inclusive as opposed to extractive: to be inclusive, “economic institutions must feature secure private property, an unbiased system of law, and a provision of public services that provides a level playing field in which people can exchange and contract; it also must permit the entry of new businesses”.

And here innovation is integral to success, and innovation is “made possible by economic institutions that encourage private property, uphold contracts, create a level laying field, and encourage and allow the entry of new businesses that can bring new technologies to life”.

Extractive institutions are exactly what they say they are: as Robinson put it in a debate with Paul Collier, they are, “those which are designed to extract resources and income from some people and transfer them to other people”.

Nigeria gained independence in 1960 and oil production started in the 1950s. Despite the enormous wealth that oil brought to the country, not much of it benefited the citizens as corruption and venery saw the money channelled into personal bank accounts. In other words, it was an extractive system. This is, however, beginning to change and it’s because the political institutions are becoming inclusive. Military dictatorship finally came to an end in 1999 — as Simon Allison says, there had been a “few other attempts [at democracy] in Nigeria’s post-colonial history” — when a core group of military officers and civilian allies, oversaw the transition from military to civilian rule. It was the culmination of a four-year process and saw Nigerians break with their British colonial heritage and adopt an American-style constitution. The country has since had held three national elections.

In the previous extractive system, for example, there would be no investigation as there currently is into the alleged $49.8-million that went “missing” from the sales of crude oil between January 2012 and July 2013, which was supposed to be remitted to the federation account by the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC). (This trend towards inclusive institutions maybe reversed, however, given the recent firing of the Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria.)

Ottoman colonialism, which by 1566 covered North Africa from Tunisia to Egypt, the entire Arabian Peninsula and Iraq, imposed highly extractive institutions. The Ottomans were succeeded by the British, and while it was still an extractive system it allowed a greater deal of independence. But most of the Middle East and North African countries after independence simply continued the extractive system; the only difference this time was that it benefited an indigenous select few. The effect of these extractive economies eventually led to the series of anti-government protests – the so-called Arab Spring – that began in Tunisia in 2011 and spread across the Middle East.

Why Nations Fail claims that the high levels prosperity in successful modern societies rests upon those nation’s political institutions. It points out that investment and innovation work to generate prosperity only if they believe their successes will not be appropriated by the powerful. This assurance, they maintain, can only come from a centralized democracy.

Inclusive institutions are those that allow sustained economic growth, technological innovation and capital accumulation. Acemoglu and Robinson state that, ‘economic institutions… are those that allow and encourage participation by the great mass of the people in economic activities that make the best use of their talents and skills and that enable individuals to make choices they wish. Innovation is crucial because talent and skill is spread throughout society and there is no way these talented skilful can flourish in an oligarchy operating a system of extractive institutions.

UAE does not qualify, strictly, as a democracy. The last elections held in 2011 involved 129 000 “selected” voters (male and female) who could vote for 20 members of the 40-member Federal National Council (FNC), an advisory assembly with very limited parliamentary powers. So, while the concentration of political power is characteristic of extractive economic institutions, the difference in the UAE is that political power is not only spread among seven members but, more importantly, it is also centralised.

And it does have a strong justice system. The Norway-based Global Network for Rights and Development (GNRD) 2013 annual International Human Rights Indicator (IHRRI) ranked the United Arab Emirates “first among Arab countries and 14th globally for respecting human rights — six points ahead of the United States (20th overall).

Abu Dhabi controls the majority of the UAE’s hydrocarbon wealth: 95% of the oil and 6% of the gas. Yet, due to a vigorous (and well-funded) economic diversification strategy non-oil and gas GDP — manufacturing industry, real estate, tourism and retail — now comprises 64% of the UAE’s total GDP. Its founder had a development vision, much of which is reflected in the establishment of the ECSSR that focused Al-Suwaidi said was on “establishing innovation and creativity” that supports the overall development of society. It is in other words, an inclusive system.

The same cannot be said for the other four top producers in Africa. Algeria is second, producing about 2.1-million barrels a day and number five in terms of world exports. It gained independence in 1962 after a bitter 12-year war against the French colonialists.

Algeria felt the rise of the Arab Spring and in 2011 President Abdelaziz Bouteflika’s government lifted the 19-year state of emergency and promised the 2012 parliamentary elections would mean a real step towards democracy. The elections, however, showed markedly low turnout but it did see the establishment of 23 new political parties and new rules that preserved 30% of the places on the candidacy lists for women (this has led to 145 women gaining seats in parliament). But overall Algeria has largely preserved the political status quo in polls and remains an extractive system.

Third is Angola — one of Africa’s richest countries — with 1.9-million barrels per day pegging them at seventh in the world, yet a third of Angolans exist on les than $2 a day. Angola gained independence in 1975 and since 1979 has been ruled by José Eduardo dos Santos.

An example of how an extractive system works, say Acemoglu and Robinson, would be to look at the daughter of Angola’s president Isabel dos Santos, who according to Forbes, is “the wealthiest woman in Africa”. Forbes also claims, “every major Angolan investment held by dos Santos stems either from taking a chunk of a company that wants to do business in the country or from a stroke of the president’s pen that cut her into the action”. That stifles innovation.

Libya, which gained independence in 1951, produces 1.7-million barrels per day and exports about 1.2m of that. It comes in at fourth. It is currently engaged in a destructive civil war, which started in 2011 – part of the Arab Spring – after the overthrow of Muammar Gaddafi, who had ruled the country for 42 years. It remains mired in conflict. And, finally, in fifth position is Egypt, producing 680 000 barrels per day. It gained independence in 1922.

South Africa is 10th on the list of African oil-producing countries (roughly 191 000 barrels of oil every day). We inherited an extractive system (20% [whites] took resources and income from 80% [blacks]) and its slow to come around. The constitution has been challenged and the rule of law flaunted in numerous cases. On top of that we have cut back on important research and development that is required to increase our international competitiveness in science and innovation, The goal of raising R&D spending to 1% of gross domestic product (GDP) by 2010 was not been achieved and according to the National Survey of Research and Experimental Development 2009-2010, we invested only R21-billion (US$2.3 billion) in R&D over that period. This equals 0.87% of GDP in 2009-10. Not only that, but this was the third consecutive year that research funding as a percentage of GDP had dropped: 0.93% in 2007-08 and 09.2% in 2008-09. It is doubtful that we will meet our target of 2% GDP spending on research by 2018.

Think tanks are not a luxury. They are a prerequisite if a nation is to “adopt a strategic approach to forward planning” and be able to provide support to government decision-making processes.

As Robinson points out, nations locked into extractive institutions are not there for reasons of stupidity or ignorance. It is, they say, about the “conflict of interest of people who control power as politicians or as leaders or business leaders or whatever of the country, are having their preferred policies imposed on society, even if it’s not good for society”.

Organisations, such as the ECSSR — and locally the sadly now defunct Institute of Democracy in Africa (Idasa) — provide input into the political and economic institutions of governance, from training government cadres, to organizing seminars and creating the avenues for dialogue among decision making bodies. In addition it provides extensive and intensive analysis of local, regional and international events that potentially may affect the UAE. And where political institutions are inclusive, this sort of research is incorporated into the vision for the nation, rather than simply providing lip service — another extractive forum — for entrenched rulers.

Robinson goes on to say that leaders who rely on extractive systems are best termed “political losers” – leaders that are only interested in their own bottom line. “Many of the fundamental transformative technologies and many of the institutional changes that unleash economic growth throughout history have come together with changes that weaken the political power of rulers. And that’s why they’ve been resisted by rulers.” And that’s why we have to guard against political losers holding power.

[This first appeared in Daily Maverick http://bit.ly/1lEwegw]

The Underdog

Every dog has his day. So too the underdog. And its day may be done. You’d be hard-pressed to find the underdog in the empty national stadiums watched either by people worried their season ticket was an ‘I-told-you-it’s-a-waste-of-money’ prediction come true or corporate guests who can’t tell the difference between a drum majorette’s bum and a rugby ball; you might just possibly have a sniff of the underdog in school teams on a cold Saturday morning with the mothers screaming like butcher dogs in heat and the fathers trying not to cry behind their Oakley’s.

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Like most the myths that shape our lives, the underdog has been impounded by Hollywood, nabbed while limping home from a good thrashing, filling the air with the bark of ‘If we’d just run that line and if we’d had just kicked that touch and if we’d just fielded that sitter…’. The underdog is now an endangered cock-and-bone nameless stray condemned to exist triumphant only in the silver slippery world of cinema.

Blame it on television and sloppy sponsorship and gambling-addicted fanatics with access to too many cell phones. Blame it on the Me Decades of the ‘70s and ‘80s; blame the swamp-slurping Goldman Sachs muppets of the 21st Century. Blame bloated sports administrators who can describe every business class lounge in every city that has a stadium but couldn’t tell you the captain’s name of their national team. Blame your spouse. Blame the cat. Blame the referee.

But don’t blame the athletes.

Sir Sebastian Coe, one of the members of that all male club of sub-four minute milers (the women’s record is still 12 seconds off from a sub-four), told journalist Gary Smith that the members had ‘bond among us…which Lady Macbeth describes as a sickness: ambition and the pursuit of excellence’. That’s the true definition of an athlete.

The founding member of the club Sir Roger Bannister said, ‘I think the four-minute mile has been overrated. After all, it’s only a time. The essence of athletics is racing against an opponent rather than a clock.’ He was right: 46 days later, the Australian, John Landy joined the club, besting Bannister’s time by one second.

Bannister was not an underdog when he broke the four-minute mile barrier in May 1954. He was a determined athlete—and a medical doctor—who trained a paltry three times a week but he knew what the human body was capable of and he knew what he could achieve. Three months later, at the 1954 Commonwealth Games, he was the underdog when he finally ran against John Landy in what the media billed as ‘the miracle mile’. It was the first time they’d met on the track. Landy led from the start only to be passed by Bannister in the final straight.

But being an underdog does not mean winning against a supposedly superior foe. That happens all the time. The allure of underdog, the thing that elicits a primordial growling and rumbling, that distant howl resonating with recognition and redemption, the thing for which myths are made rests on a single premise: honour.

We don’t just want our underdog to win. We don’t even care if they don’t win. Sure, we want them to win—but only with honour. That’s why there are no underdogs in top league football: you’ve just got crap teams and good teams. Occasionally a crap team will win and the usual shit will be thrown around about referees and diving and other matters of foul play. Or some one will get fired and some one bought and another sold.

Boxing? All boxers are underdogs so they don’t figure. Boxing’s a bewitching sport made mad, however, by men of feral cunning and rapine viciousness who never enter the ring except to hoist their boxer aloft in victory or haul him off the canvass in defeat. The only time anyone vaguely resembling an underdog got into a real boxing match was when Jake La Motta whipped Sugar Ray Leonard in their second meeting. But La Motta was not a honourable man: a great fighter but not an underdog. Martin Scorsese and Robert de Niro portrayed that perfectly in Raging Bull. As the critic Pauline Kael said, Jake was a champ and a bum.

Cricket? Ever since Hansie Cronje praised the Lord, passed the ball and opened another Caribbean bank account, it’s been hard to watch any ‘underdog’ team triumph and not shudder, and feel the faint lick of some venal lounge lizard’s tongue tickling your neck.

Horse racing has the outsider—not to be confused with the underdog. The outsider is usually a horse with an iffy pedigree and, according to the New York Times study on horse racing in the United States, trainers that pump the horses full of ‘chemicals that bulk up pigs and cattle before slaughter, cobra venom, Viagra, blood-doping agents, stimulants and cancer drugs’. And that’s just for the training sessions. No need to mention the owners or the anorexic, drug-fuelled jockeys.

The great and true stories of boxing and horseracing were the first to be ensnared by Hollywood, from Raging Bull to Seabiscuit. And to be fair, Seabiscuit was a true underdog, in every way. But, as the poet said, that was in another country, and besides the horse is dead. But Hollywood did what it does best and re-mythologised the underdog in Rocky, Million Dollar Baby and National Velvet. And if the movie ratings are to be believed, they will continue to do so.

Rugby. Now, that has all the ritual and reverence, all the fanaticism and murky fury and clarity required of myth. Rugby fans proudly support the underdog—there’s no room to mention that the underdog is perhaps now no more than a mangy mutt barking in the darker recesses of their brain.

They will tell you proudly and loudly that topdogs such as the Stormers pay their scrumhalf the equivalent of the ‘entire salary of the Cheetahs team’. They will tell you that the Cheetahs’ players turn up ‘110%’ for every game (maths not being a requirement for underdog believers). They will cheer for Argentina’s Pumas. They will tell you, as if speaking of their school mates, that the Pumas are a bunch of electricians, motor mechanics and café owners that get together after work, buy their own kit, pay their own airfares and play bruising, ‘real’ rugby.

The underdog believer yelled with delight at the Italian Azzurri, even before Nick Mallet made them into a team. When the Azzurri beat France by one point in the 2011 Six Nations —the first time in 31 encounters—their supporters told the les bleus fans that if they wanted to run with the underdogs they’d have to lift their legs high.

There’s a bone always gnawed over during this tail wagging: filthy lucre. The dog in the litter always picked up, the runt, is the one that can’t be sold. The one that can’t be bought. It’s not part of the mythology that the athlete born with a silver Nike on his foot can be the underdog. The underdog is one of us, the kid who struggles to make the U13 team, the adolescent hungering to run on with the First XV, the young man dreaming of donning his country’s colours.

But way back in the ‘80s high schools in the US sports management types started their culling. Kids were getting the message: if you don’t have megabuck potential, don’t even try out for the college team. Sport was no longer an extra-curricular activity: it was a career choice. The talented and goofy guys, who may have made sport fun to watch, went skateboarding or surfing or created digital games (where they always won). That’s a short way off from happening in South Africa. (I know, it’s not happening at your child’s school, and neither are the first team taking steroids.)

And so we follow the money trail and it leads back to… television. As Roone Arledge, who when he ran American Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) Sports in the ‘70s, told US Sports Illustrated’s Steve Rushin in 1995, ‘everything is magnified by television’. He would know. He’s the man who stuck a microphone in a dead zebra so viewers could hear what it sounded like being chomped by a lion. He’s the man who pioneered the instant replay in the ‘60s—and television sport was never the same again.

With that television magnification came the munificence of advertising. Wodges of splonga. When ABC bought the rights to broadcast the Mexico City Olympics in 1968, it cost $3-million. Eight years later the 1976 Montreal Olympics cost R25-million. The same escalation was happening in professional sport, as players became commodities to be bartered and exchanged, usually for huge sums of money. Teams became franchises with more marketing and branding staff on the team than players.

And we sucked it up. We installed DStv, not for the educational channels for our kids to watch, but for the six or seven or nine channels of 24-hour sport. Re-runs. Hand-held videos of unintelligible fishing competitions filmed on drab grey dam water with incoherent commentators. Black and white documentaries of boxing tournaments in dodgy halls between equally dubious fighters. Golfing play-0ffs at three a.m. in the morning. Mind-numbing views through camcorders mounted on ugly, shiny insect-like vehicles showing the backside of a similar vehicle travelling at 300kmph down a swath of asphalt.

And, of course, football and rugby and cricket. TV gives us a chance to watch the underdog, without having really to support him—like buying a ticket and showing up at the game. This is where myth was deflected, overtaken and even altered. In what some one once called ‘the boom bard bombardment board’ — television. With it, the original myth was fractured.

Consider the Cheetahs of the Free State Rugby Union—excuse me, the ‘Toyota’ Cheetahs. In the heart and bones of its supporters there is no more magnificent team. This is the underdog who not only is triumphant but whose triumph—and defeat—is cloaked with honour, whose players are the archetype honourable warriors. These are local boys made good. Who cares that Ashley Johnson comes from Wynberg or that Kabamba Floors is from Oudsthoorn. To the underdog believer, they are of the same ilk as Heinrich Brussouw and Adriaan Strauss. The Cheetahs don’t have draw-card foreign players past their sell-by date. Some may say they simply can’t afford them. Others will say that’s not their game. But as the song goes, ‘the truth bites and stings’ and both sides will come out bleeding and itchy.

That’s what happened to supporters watching the Cheetahs—the underdogs—in their SuperRugby 15 game against the Crusaders on Saturday. With a weak front row, the Cheetahs scrum was crushed. It was not a pretty sight for those of us who still refer to Os du Randt as ‘Sir’—and those less impressed call ‘god’. The Free State breeds props as easily as it grows mielies so what was happening? Coach Naka Drotske was obviously equally crushed.

Then it was down to uncontested scrums as all of the Cheetahs front-row forwards proved crock. We are 63 minutes into the game and the Crusaders are leading 21-11. Within 12 minutes the scores are even, and there’s less than five minutes to go. The Crusaders rampage like—well, like Crusaders—but the Cheetahs snarl and scramble and keep them out. Then the line breaks and Israel Dagg crosses over for a try and Taylor slots it to make the final score 28-21. The underdogs were bruised but proud. Bliksem, even the Kiwi commentators couldn’t hold back the praise bites.

But something was licking at the back of my neck. The uncontested scrums had definitely helped the Cheetahs. Was it a tactical move? And if so, so what? There is talk of dropping one of the South African SuperRugby teams to make way for the new franchise, the Southern Kings, in 2013. With that hanging over your head, any South African team—meaning the Lions or the Cheetahs—would do what it could to make sure it’s not left holding the wooden spoon—and an empty purse—at the end of this season.

But if it was tactical, the Cheetahs are no longer our underdog. They are mere pack dogs hounded by Mammon to tow the line. A management decision like this would besmirch even the colossus Os du Randt, the last of the South African players who started his career as an amateur and ended it in the professional era: an honourable and good man.

We need our mythologies—the underdog—in our life to lure us closer into the pool of understanding that leaves us sated by the ‘pursuit of perfection’ embodied in 80 minutes of methodical savagery and physical virtuosity; or in a one-mile long three minutes and 59 second of oxygen-depleting epiphany. We need our underdogs because without them we can no longer keep our head above water in the swamp pool of social constructs, ritual and regulation, taboo and transgression through which we sink or swim. And then get up and go to work every day.

After watching re-runs of that game and talking to a few trusted rugby observers, the Cheetahs are still the underdog, the beast that we cradle in our belly.  But the decision made in the last quarter of the Cheetahs vs. Crusaders game may be a faint hint of Gabriel’s hounds howling, warning us of the imminent death of the underdog, and that desolate moment when myth becomes nostalgia.

[This first appeared in Sports Illustrated August 2012]

When rulers replace leaders.

Who Rules South Africa?

By Martin Plaut and Paul Holden (Published by Jonathan Ball)

If you wrote a book called, Who Rules the USA? the clamour of conspiracy theorists from David Icke’s collection of lounge lizards to the Twitters of the  #Elvisisinthesupermarket followers would be deafening. The book would be a best seller but no one would take it seriously, let alone read it.

But Who Rules South Africa? is taken seriously and read in South Africa. South African-born, Martin Plaut was an advisor on Africa and the Middle 
East to the British Labour Party from1978 to1984 (spanning the James Callaghan and Michael Foot years) after which he joined the BBC, working primarily on Africa. He was an Associate Fellow of the Royal Institute of 
International Affairs, leading their Africa research programme and continues
 to be an active member. He is
 currently Africa Editor, BBC World Service News and has written, co-written and/or edited seven books. Paul Holden, a South African, is the author of two other books, both dealing with what has become known as ‘the arms deal’: The Arms Deal in your Pocket and The Devil in the Detail.

Conspiracy theories do dribble through this deeply researched book. But at the end of the last page you are faced with some glaring truths. (One of which is that since 1948 South Africans have been ruled by a one-party state with ’democratic trimmings’.)

The simplistic answer to who rules is, of course, the African National Congress (ANC). For the ANC—the ostensible ruler of the country—the state train, however, is beginning to pop a few rivets and may be close to derailment. The tripartite alliance of the ANC, the South African Communist Party (SACP) and the Congress of South African Trade Unions (Cosatu)—the real rulers—are no longer on the same train, let alone the same track.

Plaut and Holden claim the alliance was never really in agreement and was simply bundled onto the same goods wagon by the ANC in exile with no written agreement, no constitution, no minuted meetings and no public accountability. It still operates in this clandestine manner.

Part of the problem in fathoming who runs the country goes back to black economic empowerment (BEE), the murky unstable structures of which are beginning to teeter. They quote businessman Moeletsi Mbeki who derides BEE as a plan by the white economic ‘oligarchs’ to ‘co-opt leaders of the black resistance movement by literally buying them off’. And it seems to have succeeded. By August 2011, ‘about three quarters of Cabinet’s 35 members were found to have financial interests outside their main occupations…’ as did ‘59% of the country’s 400 members of parliament’.

Some say the increasing middle class will stabilise the government and thus play an important role in who rules. Transformation in the public service has been the primary driver of black middle-class growth and continues to do so. The middle class comprises just under 10-million people, of which 50% are black Africans. But the abrogation of power by the middle class—both black and white—means it has become docile.

A 2007 Public Services Commission report on the indebtedness of public servants found that 20% of all public servants had been served with garnishee orders (instituted when a person defaults on a credit repayment which is then serviced by a third party, in this case the State). Business Day columnist Mzukisi Qobo says the complacency of the black middle class is result of the economic security: holding a professional job and having a regular income.

He says, however, the white middle class think it is the job of the black middle class to challenge the government. This, he says, is ‘a convenient escape from individual responsibility to whiteness as a de-legitimated category that can exist politically only as a victim of the black-led ruling party’.

The SACP and Cosatu are challenging the rapaciousness of the BEE elite and the ANC’s ‘cadre deployment’ in key government and economic sectors, stirred by their members call for service delivery. It is feasible these two could form their own opposition party and vote the ANC out of power. But now, the voters—of whatever class—are not the rulers in South Africa, due partly to the mix of proportional representation and cadre deployment.

Plaut and Holden see it is a little more sinister. Zuma has created a cabal of BEE elites, a prejudiced intelligence service tracking political opponents, a compliant Judicial Services Commission and a corrupt police force working hand-in-glove with organised crime to maintain his position of power. He has been able to do this as ruler of the ANC—not as the country’s leader. Parliament and the Cabinet operate very much as does the Chinese National People’s Congress—to rubberstamp the decisions of the ANC’s National Executive Committee (NEC) very much in the manner of the Chinese Politburo.

The influence of China on trade and policy decisions may well mean that the ANC may not respect the power of the ballot box should it lose the elections. And that’s when we’ll really know whether the ANC rules or leads the country.

This review was originally published in the Cape Times.

Who are we talking about here?

This is from a recently published online magazine. And I bet you know who it’s talking about.

“… [political] parties had gone from being vehicles of popular sentiment, to “machines of power and clientelism” which colonised the state. Ten years later, the XXX’s scandal hit. Today, its descendant … reveals an even more pervasive and toxic mix of corruption spanning politicians, businesses and organised crime. It is this particular mix, this system of power, which keeps XXXX afloat, above and beyond any popular political consensus he may have. This system relies on clientelistic – often nepotistic – ways of managing public affairs combined with electoral legislation which makes it practically impossible for citizens to vote leaders out of office. XXXX is the archetypical expression of this system: …  he is not just a political leader, but is independently capable of conferring patronage…. The XXXXXXXXX magazine recently labelled XXXX a “plutocrat.”

Renewable leadership: A partnership of passion for the environment

Climate change, global warming, fossil fuels peaking, world water wars and the host of other issues that confront us – not only globally , but right in our backyard – necessitate that we start doing things differently if we are to sustain our life on the planet. Two activists, Lewis Pugh and Jonathan Deal, are forging a new management dynamic: renewable leadership.

Toward the end of his autobiography Achieving the Impossible, lewis Pugh says: “There’s a perfect speed for hostile water, and you’ve got to find it.” He was describing the waters of the Magdalenefjord in Norway , where he had gone in preparation for his first swim within the Arctic Circle, which took place at Vergelegenhuken.

The temperature was below 4°C; and after the 21-minute swim, his core body temperature had dropped to 35°C — the point at which hypothermia sets in. Some years later, in 2007, Pugh would use this strategy when he actually swam in the Arctic Ocean — known as the Black ocean — a mass of water some four kilometres deep and with a surface temperature in summer of minus 1.7°C. Pretty hostile.

He swam one kilometre in this water, wearing only a speedo, goggles and a swimming cap. He did it in 18 minutes and 50 seconds. He wrote about that moment: “What I feel is not victory nor vindication, but the sense of having survived.”

Pugh is trained for survival; and that is not simply because he was a corporate lawyer at the shark-infested Bar of London. Of the 200 applicants who entered with him on the gruelling, drawn-out ordeal of training to become a member of the United Kingdom’s elite Special Air Service (SAS), only he and two others received the coveted beret. When he left the SAS, he admits he wept on the train ride back home.

Law did not appeal to Pugh, and soon he was hankering for something else. When his six-month contract with the law firm he had joined after leaving the military expired, he decided it was time to do something different. As he says: “You don’t see many statues of corporate lawyers.”

He had wanted to be a champion long-distance swimmer. But a chance meeting with Clare Kerr of the world wide Fund for nature put his swimming in perspective: he was swimming in places where he should not have been able to because of climate change. The world was warming up, and unless we changed our way of managing our resources and our lifestyles, we would not survive.

“I swam in the Arctic Ocean — not because I am brave or foolhardy or a show-off. I swam because I should not have been able to do so,” Pugh says. “Global warming is a reality: the Arctic ice cap is melting; I swam in the glacial lakes of the Himalayas beneath Mount Everest, knowing that it should have been solid ice; I have seen the Maldives gradually being submerged by the rising waters of global warming.”

He became an environmental activist.

When Pugh heard that oil and gas companies planned to use hydraulic fracturing (see box below) to prospect for shale gas in the Karoo, he made a quick decision: he would get involved. he could connect the dots between the environmental damage it would cause (mainly contamination of the water aquifers), the resultant social conflict and the impact on climate change (the pursuit of more fossil fuels).

Pugh is decisive — and believes it to be a crucial trait in leadership — but his years in the SAS have taught him that planning, preparation and alternative plans are as critical. So he immediately contacted Jonathan Deal.

Deal grew up in rural honeydew, “running in the bush, catching snakes and riding horses”. He now owns Gecko Rock Private Nature Reserve in the Karoo, a 4 000-hectare eco-destination that offers a range of activities that are environmentally friendly and educational. Deal says he bought the farm in 2000 when he decided the corporate world no longer interested him — he ran a physical risk management consultancy — but the natural world did.

He is the co-ordinator of the Treasure the Karoo action Group (TKaG) – the reason he was the first person Lewis called when the latter decided to get involved. Deal remembers that first conversation. When he answered the phone, this calm, authoritative voice said: “Hello, Jonathan. This is Lewis.”

His response was: “Lewis who?” and the answer made him take a breath: “Lewis Pugh,” said the voice. And, as Deal says, “That was that.”

Pugh offered to help in any way he could. “We agreed to meet in Noordhoek for a sandwich the following Sunday. It was quite an occasion for me,” says Deal. “I was amazed at how easy-going he was and I also thought he’d be a lot younger. We clicked immediately.”

That same day, Pugh, the strategist, started marshalling ‘the troops’. He called around and got the name of a public relations firm, HWB Communications, and set up a meeting for the next morning at 8:30 a.m.

One can tell much about the way people handle their first meeting: not only had Pugh and Deal just met, they were now in a business meeting with a group of strangers, and presenting a common face. Deal is reserved, soft-spoken — almost laconic — and observant. Pugh is a presence, immeasurably polite, attentive and forceful. Both have reservoirs of intelligence upon which to draw.

Within the first few minutes of introductions, Pugh had stated his needs, his objective and his commitment. He talks strategy in military terms: he began this first meeting by repeating some words of advice given him by his commander on his first assignment in Iraq – “when you get into an encounter, the way you use your first magazine will determine whether you live or die.”

While the table was digesting that, deal started to ask questions. This pattern is reflective of their leadership style. Pugh often gets to his feet and paces the room during meetings. It is not a sign of impatience: it is more like a way of exorcising the need to stop the talk and simply ‘do something’. But he is too clever and too well-trained to do that. Deal makes notes and asks who is going to do what. They prepare, and act.

Both admit they still know very little about each other’s private- and business lives, but share a passion to stop further environmental degradation of the planet. Deal says they work well together, simply because they each have “a single-minded determination to achieve the same goals.”

Pugh agrees: “We know little about each other, outside of the work we are doing to stop fracking in the Karoo. But we have had to collaborate to win.” Deal has immersed himself in the technicalities and science of hydraulic fracturing. Pugh works the big-picture strategy through the media, legal and environmental angles.

Deal makes himself available for interviews, fighting every daily skirmish on the ground. Pugh uses his global influence and connections to find out what is happening in Europe and the United States; Deal works with local advertising schools to get the youth involved. Pugh asks how we can win the battle for the hearts and minds of the South African people; Deal attends the hearings in the Karoo. Pugh evokes an African vision, a commitment to our Constitution; while Deal works to grow the circle of supporters.
Pugh once said that he “always believed that there is nothing more powerful than a made up mind.” But he equally believes there is nothing more fragile than a made up mind. By this he means that in order to survive, you need to have the courage to make a “radical tactical shift”. We have relied on — and believed in — fossil fuels for so long, we need to make that radical tactical shift if we are to start thinking seriously about renewable energy.

Their collaborative leadership commitment is backed by their wallets: both have put large amounts of money into the campaign, and even more time. The leadership position taken by Pugh and Deal was never questioned or even discussed between them. Deal puts the collaboration down to an “almost instinctive” feel. “I know when to defer to him and he knows when to defer to me. It never gets to the point where there is conflict,” he says. “There’s no game plan — it’s just a wonderful working relationship.”

Pugh agrees. He says the battle for a good, clean and fair environment is the next logical step of the civil rights movement. “We fought for liberty — and won; we fought for equality — and won. Now we need to fight for our survival as a species.”

It is this environmental commitment that unites them, this willingness to look beyond the immediate solution of relying on yet more fossil fuel. What they want to see is a sustainable future based on renewable energy supplies.

“There is a tremendous amount of mutual respect,” says Pugh, but adds that there is very little “waffle”. They are decisive and move quickly, and are willing to delegate so that others within the campaign are never left waiting to act.
Deal says they talk every day on the phone, and willingly admits that he relies much on their friendship. “We talk about our frustrations and moments of despair,” he says “It’s not a macho, tough-guy relationship.”

Pugh concurs: “I am there to support him when he is shattered, and he’s there for me. What is most significant about this collaborative leadership is that it is renewable. First, because they are able to work within their areas of expertise without friction; secondly, because they use their bond of friendship to offload outside the core business concerns; and thirdly, because they are willing to incorporate and include others to participate actively within the campaign.

They are, in short, the civil rights leaders of the 21st century.

Fracking what?

The oil and gas companies, including Royal Dutch Shell, use a controversial modern drilling technique known as hydraulic fracturing (fracking), properly termed “high-volume slick-water horizontal hydraulic fracturing”. This process did not exist prior to a decade ago, having been developed by Halliburton after the year 2000. A drill is sunk through the water table and down into the shale rock and then horizontally into the shale (previous hydraulic fracturing relied only on vertical drilling). Millions of litres of water, mixed with a toxic compound of chemicals, is forced down the hole and the pressure fractures the shale, releasing the trapped gas. More than 30% to 40% of the chemical-laden water mix remains below the surface. The rest is pumped out and has to be disposed of as hazardous waste. Fracking will deplete the scarce water resources of the Karoo and may lead to contamination of the groundwater table.

[This story first appeared in Leadership magazine in June 2011.]

Land restitution, small holder farming and food security

Land reform, land restitution and food soverienity dominate the headlines. Land restitution has been given political priority over agricultural production. The challenge of land reform is how to speed up the transfer of land and encourage and support productive use of the transferred land. There remain, however, a substantial number of citizens who go to bed hungry every night. Food security is not just about prducing enough but also about distributing it efficiently. The following links are to The Daily Maverick in which these three issues — land restitution, small holder farming and food security — appeared. Shorter versions of the features also appeared in Business Day.
http://bit.ly/jDQadK

http://bit.ly/lKy5yo

http://bit.ly/iy2shS

This series of three articles was made possible by an Open Society Foundation for South Africa Media Fellowship.

FRACK NO! WE WON’T DANCE WITH THE DEAD

Singer/songwriter David Kramer, the troubadour of the Karoo, took his show “Kramer se Karoo” to the Jam Street Amphitheatre at the Klein Karoo Nasionale Kunstefees (KKNK) in March this year.  And he’s singing out against fracking.

Some years ago, David Kramer went walkabout in the Karoo listening to and learning from the music and the people who made it. Kramer’s music has always sung of people on the margins, physically and socially; of people who are like geologic seams within our country’s landscape—enduring, fragile and essential. From his travels and meetings with musicians who played the “ou liedjies van die Karoo” (old songs of the Karoo) emerged the brilliant Karoo Kitaar Blues. It showcased the slide guitarist Hannes Coetzee and many others, including Helena Nuwegeld.

The story of Helena Nuwegeld is the story of the Karoo. Kramer met Helena while exploring the rich vein of musical history that is as vital to these parts as water. She was a guitarist and singer and her songs were about her place in the land. She was murdered a few years ago. The man who killed her was down on his luck and had been offered a roof over his head on a farm near where Helena lived. Kramer says it’s a particular South African tragedy, shaped by the violence that has rung through our history, and which has made cries of the violated as common prayers for rain.

“This man [her murderer] couldn’t deal with her so-called disrespect,” says Kramer. The man said in court that she had not called him “sir”. Helena was 85-years-old at the time of her death. “More importantly,”says Kramer, “He couldn’t respect her. She’d had a tough life and she wasn’t about to play that subservient role. She was hard, like the land she lived in. And she was badly treated and was suspicious of other people’s motives. But, she had more than he had, and he couldn’t handle it.”

Helena had more, says Kramer, because “she was that kind of person”. She had her life—rough hewn and sparse as it was—and she had her family and her songs. The murderer did not respect that; he wanted part of it—and ended up shooting her. He was sentenced to life in jail.

This is the essential story of the Karoo. It has more than it will yield yet gives more than any one person can grasp. For the oil companies to come in and want a part of it, shows a similar disrespect and they will end up killing it. Kramer is almost speechless when he talks about the prospect of fracking in the Karoo.

“This is short-term. They [the oil companies] say they will replace what is damaged. But we’ve heard all that before and we’ve seen what’s happened in the Niger Delta. When there’s a disaster, you destroy the ecology for centuries. If we contaminate the water underground, we can’t flush it out because don’t have the water in the first place to do so.”

And he’s not speaking from a point of ignorance. He has read up on the issue, watched the documentary “Gaslands” and he is constantly asking questions. “Life is on this planet because of water. I don’t understand how—in an arid place like the Karoo—they want to use so much water to get gas,” he says, referring to the technology of hydraulic fracturing which entails pumping millions of litres of chemical-laden water into the shale rock to split it and release natural gas.

“Are we going to take that chance? Are we going to pump in millions of toxic chemicals in these underground areas, crank the rocks, leave it there and then think it doesn’t really do any damage because we can’t see it? And what then, when in a hundred years time it [the toxins] start to ooze out?”

Someone commented that if shell was a person and you looked at their criminal record, it would not be the kind of person you’d want in your neighbourhood. “It’s like saying, ‘Oh, that guy is fine—he’s a paedophile—but he gives the kids sweets and feeds them.’ It’s a kind of suspension of logic and rationality,” says Kramer

On his CD, “Huistoe”, there’s a song called “Dans mettie dood” (Dance with the dead) that describes the harsh, tenuous lifeline of the Karoo.

Ek staan heel maand en wag virrie reen se reuk/Want sonner water sallie veld’ie bloomie/Sonner blomme sallie geld’ie kommie/Sonner geld wil almal vir almal neuk

[I stand for months awaiting the smell of rain/’Cos without water, the flowers won’t bloom/Without flowers, the money won’t come/And without money, we’ll tear each other apart.]

If fracking goes ahead in the Karoo, the oil companies will be handing out their dance cards.

At the show, he introduced his song “Onnerwater”—a song about the ancient Karoo, and from his recent CD “Huistoe”—by telling people of the dangers of fracking. His is the essential story of the Karoo as much as the Karoo is an essential story in South Africa’s history. A couple of the band members wore T-shirts that read: “Stop fracking our Karoo!”

Postscript: Since this was written, the South African government has placed a moratorium on all shale gas prospecting that will utilise hydraulic fracturing technology.

Kramer’s new show featured his favourite songs of the Karoo, spanning some 30 years and he was joined by Hannes Coetzee and the Sonskyn Susters (the Sunshine Sisters) and local jig dancers (rieldansers).

ends/

Photo courtesy of Hans van der Veen.

Drill, Baby, Drill!: The chant of the political naif

Recently, the righteous voices of reason stepped into the fray regarding the use of hydraulic fracturing technology in prospecting for shale gas in the Karoo, One of the voices is journalist Ivo Vegter, who assumed the role of Devil’s advocate. Such a role requires a modicum of intellectual rigour otherwise you end up playing God’s advocate, endorsing that which you supposedly set out to question. It’s an easy back slide and reveals a penchant for controversy over a desire for coherency.

Lewis Pugh, a critic of environmental degradation and a spokesman for Treasure the Karoo Action Group (TKAG), challenged Shell—and other gas and oil companies—about its plan to frack in the Karoo and in so doing made a speech that was widely reprinted and replayed on various digital channels. For some it was rousing. For others, it was “propaganda” and “alarming”. The latter determined that what Pugh was saying was that there would be war over water.

What he said was: “If we damage our limited water supply—and fracking will do just that—we will have conflict again here in South Africa. Look around the world. Wherever you damage the environment you have conflict.”

That should set off alarm bells. But by “alarming”, the righteous voices of reason make out that Pugh is shouting “fire” in a crowded auditorium. Yet, just a few days ago in Ficksburg, the Meqheleng Concerned Citizens group handed to the municipality of Ficksburg a list of demands that included “proper water supply, repairs to sewerage drains and waste removal”. Their environment had been damaged by untreated sewerage and uncollected waste. Their letter was ignored and so they marched in their thousands to make their voice heard. The tragic result was the shooting to death of Andries Tatana, a concerned citizen, a father and and a respected teacher, who wanted water and clean streets for his family.

That is the conflict of which Pugh warns. To think of conflict only in terms of war indicates an intellectual shallowness more common to tabloid headlines—”Vegan Vampire Eats Kirstenbosch Gardens!” or “Fracking Scandal Exposed!”—than a purported “closer inspection” would indicate.

The voices of reason fail to acknowledge the human rights dimension of this debate being more intent of disparaging—but not refuting—the arguments of those opposed to short-term corporate gains at the expense of the future. We are a member of the United Nations and uphold its Universal Declaration of Human Rights. The World Health Organisation in its document “Water, health and human rights” states: “The content of the right to water may be generally defined as a right to access to water of sufficient cleanliness and in sufficient quantities to meet individual needs… While drinking and cooking water would be protected, water for food production would probably not be covered under the minimum needs in arid areas, as agriculture production requires such high amounts of water that individual household needs must first be ensured. The same goes for water for industrial use: although industry and electricity are important for ensuring an adequate standard of living, these uses must not infringe on the right to household water. For both agriculture and industrial uses, contamination of drinking water must be prevented.”

The proponents of fracking cannot in any way show that fracking will not contaminate the Karoo aquifers. What they do say, repeatedly, is that there is “no known link” between fracking and aquifer and groundwater pollution. And they cite only their own expert testimony.

The level of political naivety revealed in the statements of the voices of reason when commenting on Pugh’s speech recurs throughout their “close inspection” of the claims of Pugh and others opposed to fracking in the Karoo and elsewhere. Vegter wrote of Pugh’s speech: “Then he [Pugh] invoked the political tyrants being toppled in north Africa, and deftly juxtaposed ‘corporate tyranny’ as if it’s the same thing.”

That’s a bit embarrassing, really. Like when your partner’s just spent R850 at the hairdresser and you still have to ask: “Really? What’s the difference?” To think that so-called democratic countries such as the USA are not dictated to by the corporate tyranny of big business is like still believing Ralph Nader was a Satanist for challenging GM on its car safety.

For those who don’t remember, Nader took on the automotive giants with his book “Unsafe at any speed” (1965) and successfully sued GM and its posse of righteous voices of reason for the subsequent “dirty tricks” campaign they launched to smear his credibility. He got a payout and a public apology from the then CEO of GM.

That’s the interesting thing about comfort zones and voices of reason. Take cars: most of those reading this drive a car and some of you may smoke. Cigarette lighters have been a standard feature in cars since the 1920s but automobile manufacturers were only forced to make safety belts a standard feature in the late 1950s. More people were dying from the effects of cigarette smoking than were dying in car crashes. Doctors, dealing with the trauma of patients involved in car crashes, helped push through seat-belt legislation, despite the assurances of experts saying they were not necessary. Tobacco manufacturers hid behind a fortress of lawyers, corrupt politicians and compromised scientists for more than 40 years to hide that fact that nicotine is addictive and that smoking kills. They also denied the effects of secondary smoke.

The naivety continues. Vegter cited reams of outdated research regarding “signed statements from state officials representing Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Mexico, Alabama, and Texas, responding to these allegations [water contamination]. As a result of our regulatory review and analysis, the GWPC concluded that state oil and gas regulations are adequately designed to directly protect water resources”.

This is so staggeringly naive it’s unbelievable. It is also shoddy research. These legislators were making a political argument, not a scientific one—in other words, they were covering their backs. The reason why the USA’s Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) is re-opening the debate on the use of hydraulic fracturing—hearings are being conducted as this is being written—is because whistle-blowers within EPA confirmed that political pressure had been brought to bear on the original reports. As Wes Wilson, one of the E.P.A. whistle-blowers, said in a recent interview about that report, five of the seven members of the study’s peer review panel were current or former employees of the oil and gas industry.

Numerous complainants petitioned the USA government to get the EPA to review the earlier decision on hydraulic fracking. One of them, from Neil Zusman, Ithaca, NY, is particularly poignant:

I have read widely on this topic and it is of personal interest to me. I am not a scientist. I observe the events along the historical timeline that includes civil rights, anti-war protest, and the environmental movement. I believe they are inextricably linked. I am the son of a Holocaust survivor and a proud American, yet I know the health and democratic dangers faced by a nation whose over arching motivation involves economic benefits especially in times of economic distress.

The EPA has failed to act on the evidence of public danger caused by toxic materials released into the water as a result of hydraulic fracturing. This failure first occurred in the 1990’s [sic] in Alabama, in a case brought by LEAF. Alabama was the only state to come under the regulations of the UIC program. Among the stakeholder case studies mentioned in the Appendices of the Draft Study, Alabama is notably absent. This concerns me.

The legacy that this study follows is onerous: The 11th Circuit Court originally scheduled oral arguments for the LEAF II case for the week of February 26, 2001. This schedule was changed and the oral arguments were conducted on March 12, 2001 in Atlanta. The National Energy Policy Development Group was a group, created by Executive Order on January 29, 2001, that was chaired by Vice President Richard Cheney.

While he was US vice president, Cheney backed a series of measures favouring his former employer, Halliburton, whose hydraulic fracturing technology generated $1.5-billion a year for the company, “about one-fifth of its energy-related revenue”. LA Times’ reporters Tom Hamburger and Alan Miller pointed out in 2004: “Halliburton and other oil and gas firms have been fighting efforts to regulate the procedure [fracking] under a statute that protects drinking water supplies. The 2001 national energy policy report, written under the direction of the vice president’s office (Cheney), cited the value of hydraulic fracturing but didn’t mention concerns raised by staff members at the Environmental Protection Agency. Since then, the administration has taken steps to keep the practice from being regulated under the Safe Drinking Water Act, which Halliburton has said would hurt its business and add needless costs and bureaucratic delays.”

Neil Zusman goes on to say:

Americans were fortunate to have whistle blowers bring important national health issues to the press. This study you undertake, as other EPA studies in the past, have fallen short of protecting public health. In fact, Congress has recently found that the gas industry has failed to uphold its agreement not to use diesel in wells. Yet, little enforcement of EPA regulations has made Americans more vulnerable to the toxic practice of gas drilling. The States have not shown that they can adequately regulate gas drilling, especially in more populated areas. Federal Regulations are clearly needed. Time and time again, as noted by a Pew Research Group report, a wide variety of industries, in seat belts, lead paint, cigarettes and many others, have fought federal regulation only to have history prove that it never hurt their bottom line.

Water is at the heart of this debate—fracking requires large amounts of water—and the voices of reason latch on to it, as they should. Yet, again, the poor writing and shoddy research of the proponents of fracking reveal at best a lack of rigour and at worst obfuscation worthy of Cheney.

One of the objections raised against Pugh was that he quoted the amount of water required for fracking in litres. The figures were given—in litres—to reporters by Kim Bye Braun, media communications manager of Shell. Most of the studies on hydraulic fracturing emanate from the USA, which uses gallons (US). The conversion was to litres because SA doesn’t use the imperial measure. This is a red herring. But OK, let’s talk of 7 000 to144 000 cubic metres of water. Does it now sound like nothing?

But, let’s take these numbers that the voices of reason have supplied and unwind the spin therein (and here I am indebted to comment from a concerned reader). US reports frequently give the amount of water per well as between 1-million to 8-million gallons, approximately 4 000m³ to 30 000m³. Shell South Africa says roughly 7 000m³ to 144 000 m³.

(The figures given by the oil companies about the amount of water needed for fracking are, however, questionable. Professor Anthony Ingraffea of Cornell University—that hotbed of socialist, bunny hugger thinkers—says each well will require on average 44 000 000 gallons of water. That’s 166 558m³ of water.)

Vegter says that the projected use at Medupi is 14-million m³, which is roughly 100 times as much as will be used in the Karoo. That’s true if you are talking about one well. Shell alone plans 24 wells in its exploration phase. Thus, that first fracking phase alone will use the equivalent of 25% of what Medupi will use annually.

If those 24 exploratory sites are developed into production sites, it is possible that there may be as many as eight wells on each site, each one requiring fracking at three to five year intervals. This alone would then begin to rival Medupi’s water usage. And if you factor in the possibility that each well can use up to 16 multiple horizontal fracture drills fanning out from the vertical shaft, the amount of water per well increases considerably.

Each of those sites can exploit possibly a maximum of 10km², probably less (In the US they talk about 80 acres—three sites per km²) . If only 10% of the 90 000 km² under consideration in the Shell application is exploited that means something like 9  000 sites, each using 144 000 m³, the amount of water required will be in the region of 1.296-million  m³—let’s say thousand million cubic metres. The Gariep Dam has a total storage capacity of approximately five thousand million cubic metres. You’re talking about perhaps 10% of the entire country’s water supply—that’s a lot whether measured in imperial or metric units.

Now, what happens when all this, chemically toxic filthy, water comes back up out of the ground. What do we do with it then? The voices of reason are as silent as lambs on this.

Vegter’s claim that Eskom’s Medupi at Lephalale uses vastly more water than fracking ever would is not simply disingenuous it is blatantly false. TKAG is arguing against using the scarce water resources (almost entirely aquifers) upon which the Karoo depends. The comparison is false and as such there is no dichotomy.

Voices of reason always throw up the phrase “false dichotomy” when labelling their objections to a particular point of view. They also begin sentences with the word “Indeed”—which is up there with profile writers who call their subject “insightful” and food writers who describe meals as “wholesome”.

The voices of reason also claim that “Shell has long since agreed to ensure it will not compete with local residents or farmers for water”. Shell may say this, but Shell has not answered the question of what water it will use. Nor has it answered the question of what it will do if its actions do contaminate the Karoo’s aquifers. You can’t flush contamination out of an aquifer without using more water—which the Karoo does not have in the first place.

Recently, 13 groups, including Lawyers for Human Rights, WWF South Africa and the Endangered Wildlife Trust, petitioned the government because the existing rules controlling mining gave “inadequate time to assess the environmental impacts of mines and imposed penalties that are so low as to be no disincentive whatsoever for mining companies”. They cited the Mineral and Petroleum Resources Development Act (MPRDA) which sets a maximum fine of only R500 000 compared with R5-million for similar offences in other environmental legislation.

The Shell EMP (produced by Golder Associates) states: “Shell commits to establishing mutually acceptable protocols for the independent monitoring of the water quality in existing water wells and surface water surrounding Shell’s activities. However, in the highly unlikely event of aquifer pollution, rehabilitation is covered by Shell’s insurance policies, specifically Third Party Liability policies, which includes consequential damage. The financial provision as proposed to PASA will cover any remedial exposure (if any).”

Most of us can’t get any joy out of our small insurance claims. Can you imagine the task of a small farmer in the Karoo trying to take on Shell’s insurance company about his borehole being contaminated?

The voices of reason refer to plans of trucking in sea water. By Shell’s own estimates, 300 trucks carrying 20 000 litres each will be needed to bring in that amount of sea water for each fracking site. They propose 24 sites. The dust and damage to the environment from that many vehicles is enormous. And, remember, they may use each site to perform up to 16 “frac stages”.

Expert testimony says that salt water used in hydraulic fracturing can lubricate the rock surrounding it, possibly leading to earthquakes. This may be happening in Arkansas, “which has experienced a sudden surge in seismic activity, including the biggest earthquake recorded by the state in more than three decades”. According to Fox News—not exactly a hotbed of socialist commentary—90% of the earthquakes recorded in the state since 2009 have occurred within six kilometers of salt water sites associated with fracking operations. Steve Horton, an earthquake specialist at the University of Memphis and hydrologic technician with the US Geological Survey, told Fox “the coincidence is too big to ignore”.

But why should we believe Shell? Or rather, how can we believe Shell—or any other company wanting to frack the Karoo. Shell has a track record of bribery and corruption, especially in Africa. “Africa is to Shell what the Gulf of Mexico is to BP,” says Pugh. “Shell, has a shocking record in Africa. It has spilt more than nine-million barrels of crude oil into the Niger Delta—almost twice the amount of oil that BP spilt into the Gulf of Mexico. It was found guilty of bribing Nigerian officials—and to make the case go away in the USA—it paid an admission of guilt fine of $48-million. To top it all, Shell stands accused of being complicit in the execution of Nigeria’s leading environmental campaigner—Ken Saro-Wira and eight other activists. If Shell was innocent, why did it pay $15.5-million to the widows and children to settle the case out of court?”

The worst that the voices of reason can come up with on TKAG is “being emotional”. The stiff-upper-lip-I-won’t-cry attitude is, however, no longer a required attitude as a reflection of honesty in the adult world.

Shell hired Golder Associates, a “global company providing consulting, design, and construction services in earth, environment, and energy” to produce a draft Environmental Management Plan (EMP). This document running to more than 250 pages was what farmers and people in the small towns of the Karoo were asked to comment on.

TKAG worked with Havemann Inc., to prepare a response, which was written by Dr Luke Havemann, Havemann Inc, Specialist Energy Attorneys, Cape Town; Prof Jan Glazewski, Professor in the Institute of Marine & Environmental Law, University of Cape Town; and Susie Brownlie, Environmental Consultant, de Villiers and Brownlie Associates. They headed up a team of 22 specialists and experts in preparing the study.

Dr Havemann holds a Masters Degree in Marine and Environmental Law from the University of Cape Town and a PhD in the Enviro-Legal Regulation of Oil and Gas from the University of Aberdeen, Scotland. Prof Glazewski holds a BComm LLB from the University of Cape Town, an LLM from the University of London, a Master’s degree in Environmental Studies from the University of Cape Town as well as an LLD by published work from the University of Cape Town. Ms Brownlie holds a BSc Honours in Zoology from the University of Cape Town and a Master degree, with distinction, in Environmental Science from the University of Cape Town.

The voices of reason, not unexpectedly, dismiss the 104-page document. A shallow reading of most documents is often revealed in the responses to that document. First, they look to the Netherlands where fracking has been used for 40 years—citing the Netherlands as a “an extremely densely populated, environmentally conscious and highly regulated society”. What they fail to point out is testimony about the effects of fracking.

As one Dutch commentator said: “In the Netherlands they’ve been extracting gas, oil, and salt from subterranean layers for over 40 years. In the area, earthquakes have become common while ground levels are sinking. It is a folly to think you can extract anything from deeper levels without the upper levels—eventually—caving in. Even if those levels are deemed impermeable, they’ll fracture as they come down. The logical consequence is that mainly lighter constituents (water, gas, oil) will rise through those cracks. Go dig—the bill is due only in another 50-100 years.”

While it may be safe to collude with the proponents of hydraulic fracturing when you are sitting on the Cape coast; it is perhaps a bit more acceptable if you speak to the people who are directly affected before declaring them “safe”.

Let’s segue to another oil giant: BP, the company responsible for the Gulf of Mexico oil spill. Yes, I know we are talking about shale gas but this is about big corporates and their willingness to cut corners. According to an interview with Jeanne Pascal, who worked in the EPA for 26 years as an environmental lawyer, “BP’s flagship $1-billion Thunder Horse drilling platform in the Gulf of Mexico nearly sank in 2005 after engineers installed ballast valves backward. And a federal lawsuit over safety concerns on another BP rig, Atlantis, was making its way through the courts even as the Deepwater Horizon exploded”.

Journalists investigating BP corroborated and expanded on Pascal’s concerns and found the the company emphasized a “culture of austerity in pursuit of corporate efficiency, lean budgets and shareholder profits”. They found that current and former BP workers and executives said the company “repeatedly cut corners, let alarm and safety systems languish and skipped essential maintenance that could have prevented a number of explosions and spills”. Apparently, internal BP documents support these claims.

Why should we trust Shell to act differently? Because, according to the righteous voices of reason, Shell et al, really care. To put it in Vegter’s words, people aligned with TKAG are the “ecomentalists, with their 4x4s and bicycles and hemp hand bags and enough free time to organise petitions, protests and PR campaigns, might not care”. (The “might” is rhetorical.)

Vegter misquotes the Havemann report. “Indeed, the Haveman [sic] report quite openly bemoans the ‘real paucity of information’ about environmental or health impacts.” The extract from which Vegter quotes is actually Havemann quoting from the Tyndall Report produced in the UK about hydraulic fracturing, and it was that report’s preamble to why there should be a moratorium on fracking—not enough is known about its deleterious effects.

If Vegter had gone a little further—or a little deeper—he would have also noted the Havemann document states—again quoting the Tyndall Report —‘[i]n itself, this lack of information can be seen as a finding, as along with the growing body of evidence for ground and surface water contamination from the US and the requirement for the application of the precautionary principle in the EU, shale gas extraction in the UK must surely be delayed until clear evidence of its safety can be presented.’ The Tyndall Report goes on to say that, with the considerable uncertainty surrounding the environmental impacts of shale gas extraction, ‘it seems sensible to wait for the results of the US EPA investigation to bring forward further information’

The earlier decision of the EPA has been successfully challenged and is now under review by the US Science Advisory Board (SAB). All fracking activity in New York state and 160 other locations across the USA have been suspended pending the SAB report.

One of the favourite arguments of the voices of reason rests on the assurances given by the drilling companies that the casement technology used in fracturing is safe. They cite a report prepared for the US Department of Energy which states: “Ground water is protected during the shale gas fracturing process by a combination of the casing and cement that is installed when the well is drilled and the thousands of feet of rock between the fracture zone and any fresh or treatable aquifers.”

The voices of reason lay this out as if this was a statement of fact when it is description of best practices. The document cited here also carries the disclaimer: “The views and opinions of authors expressed herein do not necessarily state or reflect those of the United States Government or any agency thereof.” This document was a position paper, which it clearly states: “This Shale Gas Primer was intended to be an accurate depiction of current factors and does not represent the view of any individual state. Knowledge about shale gas development will continue to evolve.”

TKAG and its allies are, however, representing the views of an “individual state”—the Karoo. This region is unique in many ways. Let’s take its geology, which begins with the ancient glacial Dwyka tillite and ends 48-million years later in the middle Beaufort time. The edges on the south—the Outeniqua mountains—and the north—the Swartberg—are hard, quartzitic sandstone of the Table Mountain Group. In between are the Precambrian and younger Jurassic formations, weathered and worn into vast flat plains. Aeons later, Gondwana started its dismemberment and triggered tectonic forces below the mantle of mountains to form the main fault-bounded basins, which today we call the Little Karoo.

The terminology of the geological landscape is as rich as the earth of which it speak: marine sediments, limestone, greywackes, turbidites, the thick conglomerates of the Kansa Group, all lithified and ancient and filled with stretched pebbles.

Through this runs the country’s most extensive fault system, beginning 100km west of Port Elizabeth and ending in Tulbagh. Not only is the fault system extensive, it is active—as Tulbagh experienced in 1969. And there’s no telling what impact fracking will have.

As Shell states in its 2010 Annual Report, “We [Shell] operate in environments where the most advanced technologies are needed. While these technologies are regarded as safe for the environment with today’s knowledge, there is always the possibility of unknown or unforeseeable environmental impacts.” By its own admission, Shell could face a situation while fracking where the groundwater is contaminated.

Vegter draws a contorted conclusion from the fact that TKAG, through the Havemann commissioned report, is calling for a stop on fracking, and quotes the report. “The underlying argument of this Critical Review is that an immediate halt should be imposed on Shell’s application for an exploration right as well as on any other application for any other form of permit, right or authorisation that, if successful, may bring the advent of fracking in South Africa a step closer to fruition.”

He then says: “It helps having your conclusions written before you draft the report itself.” Such a banal level of argument begs description. Not only is it illogical to use the executive summary of a 104-page document as evidence of bias, it is vaguely paranoid or sensationalist. To go on and label Havemann document as a sham reveals the shallowness of this argument. In the UK, the Tyndall Report also concluded:

See the evidence given by Prof Anderson where, for example, he stated as follows: “What we [the United Kingdom (“the UK”)] require, I think, initially would be to learn from history. It seems a reasonable approach to take, yet we have not done that. We have not looked in detail at what has happened in the US. What we know in the US is that some of the states there now have a moratorium on further development pending an inquiry – an independent scientific inquiry. That seems the reasonable route to go. It is hard I would suggest to argue different to that, in the absence of independent scientific inquiry, we will go ahead. It would seem a strange position to hold. I think that we should at least wait to hear back from the EPA in the US. As the previous witnesses [Nigel Smith (Geophysicist, British Geological Survey) and Professor Richard Selley (Petroleum Geologist, Imperial College Lond)] suggested, shale is not necessarily shale. They vary in their petrochemical properties very significantly. I think you would then have to say we needed one in the UK that looked at the types of shale we have here and the differences across the shale here, and try to draw lessons form the US study once that is published. All these are very good and sound reasons why a prudent nation would not rush ahead with it [it being fracking].” Significantly, the final question posed by the E&CCC was “[S]hould there be a moratorium on shale gas exploration in the UK until 2013, when the EPA is likely to have its report out?” In response to this question, Professor Anderson answered as follows: “Yes, for environmental reasons, and the moratorium should last for probably another few decades for the climate change best perspective.”

If there was any intelligence behind the voices of reason, the worst that could be said is that they are simply arrogant. Unfortunately, it seems they are simply simple. Put it down to naivety.

Vegter says that “hydraulic fracturing reduces the usual impact of drilling, since multiple horizontal shafts can be drilled from a single vertical well, dramatically reducing the footprint of drilling operations on the surface. By that standard, hydraulic fracturing is the most environmentally friendly means of drilling and is perfectly suited to a relatively unspoilt wilderness such as the Karoo”.

What this really means is that instead of pumping between 144 000m3—167 000m3 for each fracture (including the horizontal shaft), the oil companies will pump the same or slightly for each multiple horizontal shaft—what is known as a “frac stage”. This makes it “friendly”? So, from a vertical well—referred to as a “pad”—there could be as much as 16 frac stages. As Cornell University Professor Anthony Iggraffea says: “It’s not the number of pads that’s important, it’s the number of frac stages.” He points out that it’s “a chimera to say ‘we’re having fewer pads therefore we’re having less impact'”.

Hate to ask, again—but the voices of reason don’t tackle this—where is the water going to come from for this “environmentally friendly means of drilling” involving multiple frac stages? In addition, this ignores the question of trucking and pipelines, and attendant damage. It ignores the dust pollution, the carbon emissions, the construction of roads across pristine land and burial sites of our ancestors. But mainly, it ignores the issues of water. Of course, concern about burial sites,say the voices of reason, is such “charming clean, green waffle”.

Vegter concedes that it “is true that isolated incidents of pollution do occur. Some have been cited above. They do not, however, occur as a result of hydraulic fracturing, but in the normal course of drilling.”

He fails to explain the what the difference is between hydraulic fracturing and “the normal course of drilling” during which such “incidents of pollution occur”. The question that should be asked—and not dismissed with a meaningless phrase about the “normal course of drilling”—is to what standard should we hold any industry to acceptable risk for its operations (i.e. drilling). No one in their right mind—neither the righteous voices of reason or the “obstructionism of angry greens”—would demand and expect 100% accountability

Figures gathered in Pennsylvania over a three-year span, show that shale gas drilling averaged a 0.3% error factor. In 2010 there were 1227 violations—i.e. environmental violations—for 1386 new wells drilled in Pennsylvania alone. That’s a violation rate of 0.89%— almost one per well.

Take the airline business: it is held to a 99.9999% acceptable risk. This means that if one aeroplane in a million goes down—the shit hits the fan. If the airline industry were held to the same standards of acceptable risk as the gas and oil companies, then it would tolerate 870 plane crashes every day. (These figures are based on the average US flight information of 87 000 flights each day across the skies of America.)

The voices of reason then go on a more risible pursuit: “Why would it ‘destroy the environment’ to permit drilling for shale gas, when drilling for other purposes is celebrated?” Where does TKAG say it celebrates drilling for other purposes? The voices of reason seem a little unhinged. Vegter openly announces that what the TKAG and its supporters really want—in addition to possible access to vast amounts of moolah that they can extricate from the oil companies or even more vast splonges of wonga to be made from cashing in on renewable energy—is a shift from pursuing short-term fossil fuel to sustainable renewable energy.

Woah! How did the voices of reason manage to expose this scandalous plot? At one point, Pugh does say: “Now is the time for change. We cannot drill our way out of the energy crisis. The era of fossil fuels is over. We must invest in renewable energy.” ? Could that have been the clue? Perhaps, but it’s not a complex sentence structure to grasp.

Ironically, the righteous voices of reason have got it right. TKAG and its supporters do want sustainable renewable energy. There, it’s out. Confession. As has been pointed out before, the oil companies want to frack for shale gas for a number of reasons. First, it’s profitable; second, the drilling technology, while relatively young, has proved effective (though not environmentally sound); and finally, especially in the case of Royal Dutch Shell, big oil does not believe in developing renewable energy resources. As the chairman Jorma Ollila stated, “we believe that [renewable energy sources] could provide no more than 30% of global energy by 2050”. And they want to be in the 70% market.

In 2005, Shell spent only 0.87% of its profit on renewable energy, investing an average of $200-million—just 1.2% its 2005 total capital investment of $17.4-billion. Don’t expect Shell to allocate much of its earnings—a whopping $20.5-billion in 2010—towards renewable energy: more than 75% of capital investment will go to “upstream” projects—such as natural gas. “We think it makes a lot of sense to focus our innovation on natural gas, the cleanest-burning fossil fuel,” says Ollila.

There’s a fundamental short-sightedness in this focus. It is an illusion—and a human rights travesty—to believe we have another 40 years to plunder resources and damage the environment. Apart from the need to start immediately investing heavily in renewable energy, we need to protect what remains of the existing environment. The Karoo is a pristine and fragile ecosphere, dependent almost entirely on groundwater. Contaminate that water table—the Karoo’s life blood—and you will destroy the land and its people. That’s the reality.

And no matter what the righteous voices of reason say about the oil companies providing jobs, it will be short term. And if the aquifers are contaminated, it will be a death sentence. Of course, the righteous voices of reason do bang on a bit about the “cleanliness” of natural gas. If you believe that, you probably also believe the car guard who says he’ll look after you car.

Cornell University—probably high on the list of those “not-to-be-trusted” institutions of learning as they do have such a plethora of social agitators on staff—will publish research in the next month, however, that concludes natural gas produced from hydraulic fracturing contributes to global warming as much as coal, or even more. Cornell Professor Robert Howarth argues that “development of gas from shale rock formations produced through hydraulic fracturing brings far more methane emissions than conventional gas production”.

The voices of reason won’t like that. After all, they do not see those opposed to the short-term gains of hydraulic fracturing of the Karoo as real people concerned about the future of the earth. No, such people “aren’t harmless greenies, concerned only with pretty pictures of pristine landscapes and protecting endangered fluffy bunnies”. Instead, we are the sort of people who while they “can afford expensive fuel and other such self-indulgent eco-luxury, most of us cannot”.

Should you ever have the chance—and the iron constitution—to watch a stilted documentary called “The Big Picture”, do so. The film, courtesy of the US Department of Energy and made primarily for the US armed forces, records the detonation of “Shot Priscilla”, a 37 kiloton atomic bomb in the Nevada Desert in 1957 (Hiroshima was a 13 kiloton bomb). In it, you see a military chaplain calming the fears of two soldiers who were part of a contingent exposed to ground zero at a distance of 2 280m (2 500 yards).

“Actually,” says the chaplain, “there is no need to be worried, as the Army has taken all of the necessary precautions to see that we are perfectly safe here.” After witnessing the blast, the soldiers returned to Camp Desert Rock, “bleeding from the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth”.

The US Department of Energy has a long history of complicity with big business. From 1951 to 1963, it colluded with the Atomic Energy Commission to pursue a “reckless programme of scientific experimentation” that saw the detonation of 126 atomic bombs in the 3.5-million km² Nevada Test Site. “Each of the pink clouds that drifted across the flat mesas and forbidden valleys of the atomic proving grounds contained levels of radiation comparable to the a count released after the explosion in 1986 of the Soviet nuclear reactor at Chernobyl.”

The leaders of the US nuclear weapons industry waged a 30-year battle to cover up this contamination of North America. It was President Jimmy Carter who, in 1978, ordered that the Atomic Energy Commission make its operational records open to the public. It revealed an horrific account of malfeasance and immorality that would make even the most gung-ho corporate shill shudder.

The problem remains one of perception. Do you adopt the myopic it-is-what-it-is as expressed in the voices of reason or do you have a vision of the future—and by future, we mean 50, 100, 300 years from now? As Pugh says, “We cannot drill our way out of an energy crisis.”

It’s as if the voices of reason heard the parrots shrieking “Be here now, boys!” and took it literally, not comprehending the rich depth and context within which that phrase rests. What they miss is that “Be here now” implies an implicit acknowledgement that we must “be here now” in such a manner that we shall also “be here tomorrow”.

The issues around hydraulic fracturing in the Karoo may be local but, in environmental terms, the entire earth is our local. The voices of reason want to confine the debate to the car you and I drive (reliant on oil), the implied need for SA to be “energy independent” (vis a vis that natural gas is our saviour) and that shale gas will warm the homes of the poor. Good points. The real issues, which if dealt with appropriately, will resolve the concerns of the voices of reason are clear.

First, is water. To quote Pugh: “We can survive without gas; we cannot live without water.” The death of Andries Tatania is not an isolated incident of police violence—it is a glaring example of the inevitable conflict that results from the environmental degradation of a person’s environment.

Second, is the matter of human rights. As the environmentalist and writer Wendell Berry said: “the movement to preserve the environment will be seen to be, as I think it has to be, not a digression from the civil rights and peace movements, but the logical culmination of those movements…”

And finally, it is about developing our renewable energy resources. There is no reason to prospect for shale gas in the Karoo. It will not provide us with cheaper energy—energy prices are set by the energy companies, not by the people who use it. Look at Australia.

According to a report by the Australian Industry Group, Australian gas prices stayed relatively low because the industry was isolated from world gas markets. Once the infrastructure is in place to liquefy gas for export—which is what is planned for SA’s shale gas—domestic wholesale prices will converge with global prices. This has already happened in Western Australia and will happen across the continent by 2015. Prices go up.

As history has shown, the cost of all fossil fuels follows an upward trend, and the cost of solar power follows a downward trend. All fossil fuels are dead-end options, finite resources whose end will arrive very quickly.

Vegter describes hydraulic fracturing as “a perfectly ordinary industrial technique that has been in [sic] used safely and successfully around the world for many decades”. Golder Associates—the environmental organisation that prepared the EMP for Shell—says, however, that all hydraulic fracturing technology is “considered unconventional” and that it is an “innovative technology”. They also state in the EMP that because “hydraulic fracturing is a new technology in South Africa, there is little information available on its potential impacts locally”.

Ordinary? Safe? How shallow and shameful to punt this drivel.

Frederick Douglas said: “The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress.” The righteous voices of reason seem prepared to endure the demise of the planet.

ends/

Fracturing reality: the illusion of development

When environmentalist and endurance swimmer Lewis Pugh joined the dots between fracking for shale gas and contamination of the Karoo aquifer and linked that to environmental degradation and social conflict, some commentators dismissed it as baloney. Perhaps they need to focus on the real picture.

No one word describes Lewis Pugh, but single-minded crops up often. Not that his thinking is dogmatic or his vision blinkered—he’s bright and inspirational—but in so far as he’s focused on halting the destruction of the earth’s resources and providing hope for our children’s future. His decision to raise a voice against prospecting for shale gas in the Karoo comes as no surprise.

The giant oil companies—Royal Dutch Shell is one—use a controversial drilling technique known as hydraulic fracturing (fracking). A drill is sunk through the water table and down into the shale rock and then horizontally into the shale. Millions of litres of water mixed with a toxic compound of chemicals is forced down the hole and the pressure fractures the shale, releasing the trapped gas. More than 30% to 40% of the chemical-laden water mix remains below the surface. The rest is pumped out and has to be disposed of as hazardous waste. Fracking will deplete the scarce water resources of the Karoo and may lead to contamination of the groundwater table.

Pugh’s reasoning when he connects the dots between what’s proposed for the Karoo and what’s happening globally comes from first-hand experience. “I swam in the Arctic Ocean—not because I am brave or fool hardy or a show off. I swam because I should not have been able to do so. Global warming is a reality. The Arctic ice cap is melting. I swam in the glacial lakes of the Himalayas beneath Mount Everest, knowing that it should have been solid ice. I have seen the Maldives gradually being submerged by the rising waters of global warming.”

The oil companies want to frack for shale gas for a number of reasons. First, it’s profitable; second, the drilling technology, while relatively young, has proved effective (though not environmentally sound); and finally, especially in the case of Royal Dutch Shell, big oil does not believe in developing renewable energy resources. As the chairman Jorma Ollila stated, “we believe that [renewable energy sources] could provide no more than 30% of global energy by 2050”.

In 2005, Shell spent only 0.87% of its profit in 2005 on renewable energy, investing an average of $200-million—just 1.2% its 2005 total capital investment of $17.4-billion. Don’t expect Shell to allocate much of its earnings—a whopping $20.5-billion in 2010—towards renewable energy: more than 75% of capital investment will go to “upstream” projects—such as natural gas. “We think it makes a lot of sense to focus our innovation on natural gas, the cleanest-burning fossil fuel,” says Ollila.

There’s a fundamental short-sightedness in this focus. For starters, it is an illusion to believe we have another 40 years to plunder resources and damage the environment. Apart from the need to start immediately investing heavily in renewable energy, we need to protect what remains of the existing environment. The Karoo is a pristine and fragile ecosphere, dependent almost entirely on groundwater. Contaminate that water table—the Karoo’s life blood—and you will destroy the land and its people. That’s the reality.

Shell claims fracking will not contaminate the water table. Yet, the company could not explain why the corporations involved demanded that fracking be exempted—and got the exemption—from the regulations of the Federal US Safe Drinking Water Act, an Act aimed specifically at protecting groundwater?

When questioned about fracking technology, the oil companies point out that the United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) has stated that fracking does not pose a danger to the environment. However, the earlier decision of the EPA has been successfully challenged and is now under review by the US Science Advisory Board (SAB). All fracking activity in New York state and 160 other locations across the USA have been suspended pending the SAB report.

Shell claims that fracking is a tried and tested technology and is being used throughout the world. However, they cannot explain why the technological process has failed in the past and caused serious problems to the aquifers in areas where it has been employed. There have been more than 1 000 documented cases of groundwater contamination in the USA due to fracking. Shell’s answer that the other companies simply “made mistakes” implies that it won’t .

Yet, Shell’s 2010 Annual Report states: “We operate in environments where the most advanced technologies are needed. While these technologies are regarded as safe for the environment with today’s knowledge, there is always the possibility of unknown or unforeseeable environmental impacts.”

By its own admission Shell could face a situation while fracking where the groundwater is contaminated. Shell was asked if, in such an event, what it could do about it? As was pointed out, you can’t exactly flush contamination out of an aquifer.

Pugh says we can’t trust Shell. “Africa is to Shell what the Gulf of Mexico is to BP,” he says. “Shell, has a shocking record in Africa. It has spilt more than nine-million barrels of crude oil into the Niger Delta—almost twice the amount of oil that BP spilt into the Gulf of Mexico. It was found guilty of bribing Nigerian officials—and to make the case go away in the USA—it paid an admission of guilt fine of $48-million. To top it all, Shell stands accused of being complicit in the execution of Nigeria’s leading environmental campaigner—Ken Saro-Wira and eight other activists. If Shell was innocent, why did it pay $15.5-million to the widows and children to settle the case out of court?”

Shell has avoided the questions, and continues to claim that fracking is “not known to harm” the environment. Disingenuous. But the issue is more than fracking. The issue, as Pugh says, is pursuing renewable, safe energy. “We can survive without gas—we can’t live without water.”

That’s why the reality is the pursuit of renewable energy and not the illusion of so-called “cleaner” fossil fuels. Pugh says it is a civil rights issue, and is prepared to take Shell all the way to the Constitutional Court. “Enshrined in our Constitution, is the right to a healthy environment and the right to water,” says Pugh. “The Constitution clearly states that we have ‘the right to have our environment protected for the benefit of our generation and for the benefit of future generations.'”

It will be a hard fought battle, but the reality is we can’t afford not to fight it.

Donald Paul is a freelance writer. Disclaimer: He is an admirer and friend of Lewis Pugh. [This story first appeared in City Press, Sunday, 10 April, 2011.]

Disappointed idealists or just plain cynics?

Last year, I gave talk to a group of international managers at their company’s annual conference in Cape Town. They came from Morocco, Egypt, Turkey, Poland, Rumania, Lebanon, France and, of course, South Africa. Their company has invested heavily in South Africa. I spoke, in my personal capacity, about the country. Only two of the managers present had any experience and knowledge of this country.

I provided some personal background. On my father’s side of the family, I am second-generation born in Southern Africa, and fourth generation on my mother’s side. I was born in Zimbabwe—then called Southern Rhodesia—and, after Ian Smith’s Unilateral Declaration of Independence, we moved to Zambia. Eventually, my parents moved back to South Africa, where I finished my high school and university. In the early 1970s, every white South African male was required to serve in the South African Defence Force. I refused and left for England.

Two years later I found myself in the Sudan, working as an English teacher in a high school just north of Darfur province. I then joined the Omdurman Islamic University—the first non-Muslim academic ever to be hired by the institution. Eventually, I ended up as the Sudan field director for an NGO. When I left the Sudan, I returned to London for a few years and subsequently lived in Greece and the USA before returning to SA in December 1995. I had been gone 20 years.

South Africa was now a democracy. It was the beginning of a new story. South Africa has many stories. But too often they are simply and easily reduced to the 46 years of apartheid and the struggles against it. And now it is also true that the story is being reduced to the 16 years of democracy and the struggle to maintain it. Or not.

But, one of our writers put it, there are other stories as “stories as interesting and even more revelatory of the dilemmas of the 20th and 21st century.”

Archbishop Desmond Tutu used the phrase “rainbow nation”—a metaphor that meant many things and I covered some of the factual numbers. We are a nation of 50-million people. 39.6-million blacks (almost 80%); 4.6-million whites, 4.4-million coloureds and 1.3-million Indians—or rather descendants of people of Indian sub-continent. The black population is divided into four major ethnic groups, speaking nine languages. There are numerous subgroups of which the Zulu and Xhosa subgroups are the largest. The majority of the white population is of Afrikaans descent (60%), with many of the remaining 40% being of British descent. The coloured population—the term used for mixed race people—mostly speak Afrikaans. Almost 15-million people are aged between 15 to 29 years old.

This is important.

What is also important, I told them, were two names, which they should remember: Julius Malema and Tokyo Sexwale.

What’s changed?

So what makes South Africa today so different from South Africa 20 years ago? Let’s look at the details, the small things against which we can measure individuals. Yes, we have the world’s most comprehensive constitution; yes, we have democracy. But what about at a personal, everyday level?

Our national sportsmen and women are on tour in the rest of the world.

Our ballet, opera and stage companies are filled with black and white performers as are the audiences.

Big international acts come our way.

Our restaurants are up there in the World’s 50 Best Restaurant’s list

Our winemakers and their wines are welcomed abroad

Our beaches are packed. (When I left SA, most of the public beaches were reserved for “Whites Only”. Hard to believe, yes, but it was so.

And we hosted the FIFA World Cup 2010. Did that benefit us? (Of course not. It is an event designed for the benefit of FIFA.)

Our writers, artists and musicians are globally recognised—Vusi Mahlasela played in New York city at John Lennon’s remembrance party in October.

What else is different? The current question at dinner parties in South Africa is whether we will see development or decline in the future. But let’s put that in perspective

The economic situation in SA from 1980 to 1994 was one of prolonged and steep decline.

The 16 years that followed the advent of democracy have been called “the second golden age”.

But what now?

There are 283 municipalities.

In 2008/2009, 89 received disclaimers or adverse opinions for their annual audit.

An additional 36 could not finalise their audits.

In 2010, 57 municipalities got disclaimers and adverse opinions.

An additional 47 failed to finalise their audits.

There used to be 21 civil engineers for every 100,000 people in the municipalities. Today there are three for every 100,000. This was largely due to the passing of the Municipal Systems Act in 2000. The Act allowed mayors—an elected position—to govern in secret with a hand-picked executive committee. The ANC used it to “deploy”—i.e. find jobs for—its loyal followers. Zuma has now set about dismantling that structure to ensure municipalities are run by professionals.

There are only 800 anaesthetists working in the country.

We train 30 surgeons a year when the medical system needs a minimum of 120

We are bottom of the log in maths, maths literacy and science in our schools out of a sample of 133 countries.

80% of our schools are dysfunctional yet we spend 6.1% of our budget on education, much more than many other nations.

We have become a conduit for money laundering, the drug trade and human trafficking.

We have more than our fair share of murder and rape.

Another country

Let’s tell the story of an African country, I said. Let me describe a country to you and you tell me whether this is taken from fiction or reality and whether it is the the future, the present or the past. Here’s some pointers about this “country” I want you to imagine:

This country’s capital is the hub for the largest African airline.

It’s ports are served by fleets of ocean going liners.

There is an efficient railway network that connects it to its neighbours and which carry trade.

Publishers launch tourism travel guidebooks to the country which run to more than 800 pages long and lists hundreds of smart guest houses and things to do.

The game parks are vast, with plenty of game and accessible.

The country’s road network—more than 120 000km of it—is extensive and clearly marked maps are readily available in book shops.

The bus system covers the country and the buses run on time.

The country has vast areas of rich agricultural land.

The country’s education system produces some of the continents finest experts.

The country has unmeasured deposits of diamonds, gold and other minerals.

Fact or fiction?

Does such a country exist on the African continent?

Is it a future projection of what we’d like to see?

Is it a description of the state of the South African nation today?

Well, it’s fact, for starters.

Some of you may recognise the country about which I am talking. And no, it is not present day South Africa (though it could be). The country I have described is what the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) was in 1960.

Between 1965 and 1997, this country I have described—the DRC—was run by Mobutu, a man who developed the cult of the personality and presented himself as a god-sent saviour for the country. He was assassinated in 1997 and Laurent Kabila took over. He in turn was also assassinated, and in an ironic salute to the country’s name, his son Joseph was installed as President. Elections were held six years later at a cost of US$500-million (paid for by the USA and the EU) and Joseph was installed as the legitimate elected leader.

Today, the DRC is a little different.

It’s airline is now dilapidated and unsafe.

It’s ports are unused.

The railway system has entirely collapsed.

There are no tourist guidebooks and there are no tourists.

It’s game parks are run down. People who have been there speak of the eerie silence of the forests. Everything has been hunted for food. There are not even the sounds of birds.

It has less than 1 000km of passable roads and those must be traversed in a 4×4.

It has no bus system.

More than 17% of the population are malnourished and 10% of the urban population. The rural people live on cassava, the staple diet, low in nutritional value.

The education system has collapsed.

It still has vast mineral wealth. But that is not going to solve the economy of the country. Think about cobalt. There are vast reserves being mined as we speak. Mined by hand by extremely low-paid labourers, packed into sacks and trucked out the country and shipped out of South Africa’s ports to China where it is then processed.

And that is where the money is made.

None of the money stays in the DRC. The mining companies don’t pay taxes (they say that paying bribes is simply a form of tax).

Frog in the water

There is a scenario that everyone likes to quote, and I am no different. It is the story of the frog in a pot of cold water. It will sit there happily. Place the pot on a very light gas flame and the frog will continue to sit their until it boils to death because it is oblivious to the gradually increasing heat of the water.

The question we must ask is: are we the frogs in the water? The controversial financial advisor Robert Kiyosaki, the author of Rich Dad, Poor Dad, visited here recently. He was very popular. But when he was asked about future investments in the country he cited the story of the frog. It was not well received.

There are two problems with the question: Are we the frog in the water?

First, it is politically incorrect.

Second, to give a politically correct answer will be simply to avoid the issue.

Let’s look at some examples of why we may or may not be frogs. I was born in Zimbabwe. And though I left there when I was still a boy, people in South Africa—both black and white—often ask me if I think South Africa will become another Zimbabwe? Do I know the answer? No. But let me tell you three stories:

A few years ago, the then editor of a prominent women’s magazine—you know the kind, a very glossy, high fashion, lots of bling on every page—was at a very smart dinner for Gauteng’s elite and powerful females. Now, let me tell you about the Gauteng elite—named by the Unilever Institute of Marketing as “Black Diamonds”—they are wealthy, poised and powerful. At the dinner party was the Grace Mugabe, the wife of President Robert Mugabe. This was at the start of the “land reclamation” that Mugabe had launched against white farmers. The editor was seated at Grace’s table. During the evening, most of the black South African women approached Grace and praised her for what her husband was doing: taking back the land.

The second story is about a project I was working on about land reform in South Africa and its relation to small-holder farmers and food security. I was at a panel discussion chaired by the chairman of the Parliamentary Land Reform Commission. The audience was mostly young black students from the University of the Western Cape and the University of Cape Town. A film was shown in which two incidents of land reform were depicted.

One told the story of a group of people who had laid claim to land, which was not challenged. The claim was recognised and the group were now debating endlessly among themselves as to how it should be managed in the future. The second film was about a land claim that was challenged. A family living in Soweto claimed a 500ha piece of land north of Gauteng. The white farmer, whose family had been there for four generations challenged the claim.

One thing you must understand about land claims in SA is that the Land Reform Act of 1994 says that only land that was settled after 1913—the date when laws were passed to forcibly remove blacks off their land, can be claimed.

The white farmer said his family had bought the land from a local chief in the late 1800s. The black family said, no, they were there in 1913 and the land had been taken from them, not bought. They won. The white farmer said: OK, I have built a multi-million rand slaughter house on the farm and have a successful meat supply business. I will relinquish the land but leave me with the butchery and I will guarantee to buy your cattle and share the profits from the butchery.

The family refused. They visit the farm once a month usually on a Sunday for a picnic and the butchery has gone to ruin.

A student stood up and said that the white man should not have argued about the claim. I posed the question as to whether, given our limited land resources—and SA only has 11% of its land mass that is arable—wouldn’t it have made sense to negotiate with the white farmer, keep the land and butchery working (it provided employment) and that it was a matter of management of resources that was most important.

Well, I was shot down in flames. The chairman said he would not tolerate listening to another white man saying blacks could not farm the land and besides, it was not the management of the land that was at issue. Justice was the issue, and it was justice to give back the land even if it was not used for “20 or 40 years”.

Land reform is a very, very emotional issue in SA, and it is a potential time bomb.

The media in Europe and South Africa made much of the devastation and starvation that followed Mugabe’s land claims. However, some years on and Zimbabwe is producing 60% more food than it did before the land claims, mostly from small farmers who are moving back onto the land. It is also producing more tobacco than it did, again from small farm holders. Admittedly, the land is owned by absentee landlords mostly generals in the army. It’s reverted back to a feudal system, but it is feeding the nation.

So when you ask me are we frogs? Are we going to become another Zimbabwe?

I don’t know.

I do know that we need to ensure that our farms guarantee our food sovereignty.

So, what does it mean to be a South African and an African.

Even the word “African” is a big issue. I write opinion pieces for various corporations. Often they will want me to say: “African chartered accountants” when they mean “black” chartered accountants. I consider myself as an African. I was born here. My father’s father was born here; my mother’s grandfather’s father was born here. I have lived on the continent for more than two thirds of my life. This is my country.

We must make it work. One of the common arguments made by African apologists is that Africa was colonised and that the destruction is still being felt. The usual argument against this is to point to the Far East. Much of this argument is well-covered in Tim Butcher’s two highly recommended books: “Blood River” and “Chasing the Devil”.

The Malaysia scenario

Malaysia was colonised for centuries, including by the British, who, true to form were cruel and racist. It got independence in 1960 (about when the Congo became independent). It was also drawn into the Cold War. But Malaysia got through it. The Congo and much of Africa did not. Malaysia is a successful country, part of the bigger world.

The Hong Kong scenario

Also colonised by the British for centuries. Freetown in Sierra Leone has a natural harbour that is bigger than Hong Kong’s; it has raw material nearby, and it lies dormant; Hong Kong traded. Trade made for more trade. It prospered. In Sierra Leone trade led to rivalry, stagnation and ultimately a bloody and vicious war. Why?

So, is Africa doomed? I don’t know. I do know that there are many young people of all colours who are making it work. I have a friend. He’s white, he’s in his late 20s and he makes music videos. His friends are mostly black because there’s is the sort of music he likes and he hangs out with them. When one of the band’s became successful, they asked him to make the music video. He did. He was over at the house of his friends—black—and he’s introduced to the father of the friend. This is the guy who made the video. The friend’s father—an ex activist—says, why didn’t you use a black guy? The kids just laugh and tell him he’s out of touch. We used him because he’s the best, says the son. End of story. This is the sort of thing that will make this country work.

I’ll tell you another story why I think it may work. I edited a magazine called The Big Issue. It’s a job creation scheme. We produced a magazine which is then bought by unemployed and disadvantaged people. They buy it for R7 and they sell it for R14. I had an internship programme, helping to train young wannabe journalists. I had two young guys and they wanted to write about restaurants and good stuff that was happening in the townships. I said OK, but I want you to write about new stuff, not the restaurants that everyone has written about—like Mzoli’s in Gugs. But they wanted to do the easy stuff, the stuff that had been done.

I looked out my window. There was a building going up about 100m away, and outside on the pavement were two black woman with a gas cooker and pots of food and they were preparing food for the building site workers. They knew they had a market.

I said to them: “Those women are entrepreneurs and they are doing food. Interview them/ eat the food. Find out what it takes for them to get their stuff there.”

That proved to be a great story.

And that’s my point. These are the people who do make a difference. In my very emotional moments, I think Africa—the world—will be saved by the women of the continents.

And then I think of Sarah Palin or Carla Bruno and I am not so sure it is a gender thing.

Where does our political future lie? And where will our cultural future go? Those are huge questions, but let’s take two very important people and talk about the political future. It will also go a long way to explaining our cultural future.

Julius Malema and Tokyo Sexwale. The two represent opposite sides of the political spectrum within the ANC. Both have presidential ambitions.

Julius Malema is the current president of the ANC Youth League (ANCYL) and has been likened by both black and white commentators as a “Hitler”.

Sexwale is a billionaire, a long-serving ANC political activist and is currently the Minister of Human Settlements.

The accusations against Malema are not just random comments. He has huge appeal to the young and the dispossessed. At an impromptu rally on the UCT campus, he drew more than 800 people, and his rhetoric was wildly cheered. The ANCYL claims it can bring 3-4-million voters to the polling booths for the ANC. He talks of nationalising mines and recently they have started targeting banks with their criticism. The arguments are at best flawed and at worst rubbish. But they stick. His notion of nationalising is closer to a form of fascism.

I mentioned that significant figure of nearly 15-million people in SA are between the ages of 15-29. They form the bulk of the unemployed and dissatisfied.

Let’s look at some other important statistics.

One third of the population is food insecure. i.e. they have no sure knowledge of where their next meal is coming from.

More than 25% of children under the age of six are malnourished.

Sexwale is an urban, smart politician. But he’s old school. He does command respect and he is a great orator, but he’s not a populist. He will have big business behind him and he does know how to negotiate with COSATU, the trade union body. When I left SA, he was sitting in prison on Robben Island.

Another consideration. The right to know versus national security. The government is making strong moves to restrict the freedom of the press. It’s most draconian proposal is the Protection of Information Bill, which has been almost unanimously condemned. The government is adamant it won’t back down but the law will basically enable any one within a department to refuse to release information on the grounds of “national security”. The critics of this Bill say it is being pushed through to protect corrupt officials. They say that the ANC’s national democratic revolution is no more than a national tender revolution.

Media Appeals Tribunal. A government appointed watchdog that will give government control of the news rooms through coercion and fear.

But these are relatively inconsequential matters when compared to the problem facing the judiciary. There are sustained and serious attempts to undermine the judicial system through the appointment of people better known for their political shrewdness rather than their legal acumen. People such as Dumisa Ntsebeza, an “influential member of the Judicial Service Commission (JSC) and plays a decisive role in who gets appointed”. He’s also very pro-Zuma.

Zuma reinforced this view of the undermining of the judiciary’s independence when he recently appointed Nomgcoba Jiba and Nomvula Mokhatla as Deputy National Directors of Public Prosecutions*. Another controversial move was his choice of director of National of Public Prosecutions Menzi Simelane, still a hotly debated issue.

Jiba’s husband, a lawyer, was apparently convicted on charges relating to him dipping into the trust fund of his firm of attorneys. The senior prosecutor who pursued the husband was reputedly Advocate Gerrie Nel who, it is alleged was targeted by Jiba in what was called “a personal and political” vendetta and an attempt at “what appeared to be a bid to disrupt the investigation into former national police commissioner Jackie Selebi”. Selebi was later convicted.

So what are our strengths weaknesses obstacles and threats? We cannot assume that because the economy is growing at 5% per annum (GDP) that is not performing poorly. There has been massive industrial decline, outsourcing has weakened the labour class. The challenge is how to boost growth to 6% yet ensure equitable distribution of wealth and eradication of poverty. Our growth goals, however, are not predicated upon the health and durability of our natural resources and ecosystem services.

Strengths

Constitutional democracy with an effective Bill of Rights;

Independent courts

A media that is still free—despite current threats;

Generally sound macro-economic management

Public debt is less than 36% of GDP—and external debt is only 16% of GDP.

Vast natural resources.

Tourism, which now contributes 8.3% of GDP—much more than mining. (Automobile production contributes as much to GDP as mining. In 2008 we produced 600 000 vehicles of which 170 000 were exported.)

Strong auditing and reporting standards and regulation of securities exchanges are the best in the world.

Weaknesses

No progress in eliminating inequality since 1994.

Poverty: 42% of our population lives on less than two dollars a day. Almost 15 million South Africans subsist on children’s, old-age and disability allowances.

Between 35% and 40% of black South Africans are unemployed or have given up their search for employment.

The failure of our education system. Only 22% of children who entered the school system in 1995 passed matric in 2007 and only 5.2% did so with university exemption. Only 1.5% passed maths at the higher grade.

Opportunities

The growth of a multiracial middle class.

The spirit of individuals

Threats

Opportunism pretending to be ideology. Policies should be based on pragmatism, consultation, the rule of law and concern for ordinary people.

Imposing demographic representivity in the economy, coupled with deployment.

Global environmental and economic threat.

Land reform. It is not being tackled.

Corruption. On Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions we have gone from 23rd position in 1996 to 54th place 2008.

AIDS continues to kill five thousand people every week.

Attempts to regulate the press through the Protection of Information Act and the Media Appeals Tribunal are serious threats to our democracy.

Loss of skills. Since 1990 between 750 000 and a million South Africans have emigrated.

Undermining of judicial independence.

Conclusion

There is no conclusion to the stories of Africa.

But I will leave you with one. There’s a woman I know—we shall call her Nomkhita. She is 70 years old, and lives in Khayelitsha. Ten years ago, the HIV and Aids epidemic was sky-rocketing in South Africa. Nomkhita is a crèche owner serving children up to six years of age, saw how this epidemic affected the children and how ashamed their parents were to ask for help.

So, she looked around and then went to a workshop run by an organisation called Abalimi Bezekhaya — farmer’s of home. Nomkhita and two other women started a gardening project. She now grows vegetables for her family, her creche and enough to sell in the market.

I know it’s a woman story but it’s one of hope. And she is making a difference. The thing is: we all can. It’s whether we choose to or not.

* Additional information added after the talk.