MORE THAN a decade after the apartheid era ended in South Africa, one key feature of a working democracy has yet to be tested: the ability of elected leaders to accept defeat gracefully and hand over power to their political rivals. Earlier this month, though, the populist Jacob Zuma handily beat incumbent President Thabo Mbeki in the contest to lead the ruling African National Congress party.
This challenge to Mbeki's leadership is a sign of healthy politics, especially on a continent dominated by self-appointed strongmen who hold onto their offices at all costs. But Zuma's emergence would be more reassuring if his own history were less troublesome.
The leader of the ANC's intelligence efforts during the struggle against white-minority rule, Zuma later served as deputy president under Mbeki. The president forced him out two years ago amid a corruption scandal. Last year, he was acquitted on a rape charge. Yet neither that nor a continuing investigation for bribery and tax evasion deterred delegates at this month's party convention.
Mbeki was vulnerable because he has been an uneven leader. His critics within the ANC accuse him of stifling dissent. As AIDS ravaged his country, he flirted with unfounded theories that HIV is not the cause of the disease.
In other ways, though, Mbeki has governed well. According to the group Transparency International, his is one of Africa's most honestly run nations. Mbeki's responsible, middle-of-the-road economic policies have fostered a stable business climate. Despite its long cooperation with labor unions and communists, the ANC has pursued more market-oriented policies than apartheid-era leaders did, and it has overseen the privatization of state-controlled enterprises.
While such economic policies bode well for his country's reputation abroad, they do little to meet the immediate needs of South Africa's poor. Zuma saw an opportunity. A populist message has fueled his political comeback. And if the distinction within the ANC between populists and free-marketers has been sharpened, so be it. A split within the party would promote healthy competition.
Zuma has met with foreign investors, presumably to reassure them that he doesn't intend to be the South African version of neo-socialist Hugo Chavez. He also needs to make it clear that he would spend public money to help the citizenry rather than to enrich government officials. Zuma, alas, isn't the most obvious protector of the public purse.
But South African leaders have surprised critics before. Nelson Mandela, once regarded in some quarters as a dangerous radical, turned out to be a statesman. Zuma's big test will come if he is elected president. Will he nurture a hard-won democratic system? And when his time is up, will he leave?
