POLITICS-SWAZILAND: “Rubber Stamp Parliament” Wants Respect

By James Hall Reprint | | Print |

James Hall

MBABANE, Mar 1 2002 (IPS) - The near unanimous opinion of political observers expressed in the Swaziland media when parliamentarians voted themselves a 31.9 percent wage increase was, “What for?”

The exception was Times of Swaziland editor Vusie Ginindza, who hopefully suggested that higher salaries may attract a better calibre of candidates when next year’s elections to choose new legislators are held.

Most Swazis are indifferent to politics, and public reaction as measured by street interviews in Mbabane and Manzini, the kingdom’s largest town, were muted after Members of Parliament (MPs) passed a supplemental budget this week that upped their salaries by a third.

“If they can get away with it, good for them,” says taxi driver Mandla Simelane.

Others, like fruit vendor Gogo Sithole, are of the opinion that government service is a way for a lucky few to enrich themselves. “I hope my son lands a government job. You can steal without going to jail,” says the self-described Christian. She is not alone in her views.

Others feel there is no disgrace when government officials dole patronage jobs to relatives and friends. The only thing objectionable is when a cabinet minister or principal secretary remains on the job too long, thereby denying others a chance to share the wealth.

In the end, all that matters is that the king is overseeing the running of the country from Lozitha palace, 20 kilometres east of the bureaucrats’ high-rises in the capital Mbabane.

“The MPs can go right ahead being rubber stamps to palace policies, and the people won’t care, because they revere King Mswati and distrust politicians, who they think are just in it for the money,” writes former Swazi Observer editor Sandile Nsthakala.

The first MP to admit in a submission to the House of Assembly that “We are just rubber stamps” was King Mswati’s older brother, Prince Sobandla Dlamini, who was appointed to his assembly seat before becoming the current minister of home affairs.

Prince Sobandla’s objection was that ministers ignore parliamentary sessions, with an attitude that MPs are irrelevant. The charge was bitterly repeated nearly every week during the past year as cabinet members absented themselves from sessions and ignored summons, and were threatened with contempt of parliament.

Perhaps to appease MPs, cabinet approved a recommendation by a parliamentary welfare committee that salaries should be increased by a third, and seating allowances and other perquisites should be enriched. Even the parliament building, opened in 1972 near the royal village of King Sobhuza, King Mswati’s long-reigning father (1899-1982), is to receive a facelift.

“Is parliament irrelevant in a country ruled by a king? The record speaks for itself,” says Nimrod Mabusa, editor of the Swazi News who last year was charged with contempt of parliament for his sarcastic weekly commentaries on MPs.

Parliamentarians were particularly irked by Mabusa’s repeated references to them as “honourable thieves” following revelations that MPs falsified attendance records to claim undeserved seating allowances.

The record that Mabusa refers to is that in the 35-year history of Swaziland’s parliament never has a national law or piece of legislation originated from either the house of assembly or senate. Rather, all laws have come from the palace, and are piloted through parliament by one of 17 palace-appointed cabinet ministers.

Since 1998, King Mswati has had the power to decree laws solely with his cabinet, bypassing parliament entirely. The king may also decree laws on his own authority, which he has done for all major administrative acts in the past few years.

Of the 65 MPs, 55 are elected from local constituencies, and the palace appoints 10. Of 30 Senators, the palace appoints ten, and the house members – from the ranks of appointed and elected MPs – choose the rest.

Political observers say it is noteworthy that one appointed MP, Mfomfo Nkhambule, submitted to parliament that MPs do not deserve their hefty 31.9 percent pay raises. The reason, he said, is that MPs do not actually do anything.

Other MPs held differing views, and Nkhambule’s motion that the pay raise be turned down found no one to second it.

One sign that MPs are faced with a crisis of credibility came when King Mswati opened parliament last month with the command that each MP visit his or her constituency weekly. The order was met by uproarious laughter, particularly from cabinet ministers. It was only laugh to punctuate the king’s speech.

Explains Mabusa, “MPs only go back to their constituents prior to re-election, when they spread around promises.”

However, some MPs like Sipho Dlamini of the Nkhaba constituency works closely with constituents on development projects. “The truth is, MPs are the people’s highest elected officials in Swaziland,” Dlamini says. “If ordinary people are going to have any type of input into national policy, it must be through us.”

If other MPs heed their king’s directive, and report to their constituents, political observers say this may jump-start popular awareness of government policies, which in turn may generate grass-roots participation in governance.

Such a development will not only give Swaziland’s MPs something to do, but may earn them the respect they feel entitled.