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August 4, 2008
Posted: 1830 GMT
PIETERMARITZBURG, South Africa - The first sign of the way things were going to be was the confusion over the media accreditation cards.
Zuma addresses his supporters at the courthouse.
"It's Lazarus, the guy with the dreads, you've got to find." one of my colleagues told me. "He's got the cards. The green ones are the important ones; the other-colored ones are not the same." By the time I finally got hold of Lazarus, he was incredibly friendly and helpful, but he told me sadly: "I've run out of media cards. There's nothing I can do to help you." Then he hesitated for a moment. "But don't worry, you stick with me and you can come in." We waited along with the rest of the media while Lazarus and the court officials - apparently acting on instructions from the presiding judge - argued over whether we had access to the court or not. It was my second glimpse into the bitter political turf wars that the trial of ANC President Jacob Zuma has thrown this country. Lazarus is part of Zuma's entourage with no official power in the court system of this country. His fight with the court security ended in a compromise. The judge allowed us in for 10 minutes before the proceedings began. How much was Lazarus' influence; how much was the judge's sense of necessary compromise? We don't know. The rule of law in South Africa is under threat, say both sides in the Zuma trial. The truth remains deeply murky. Then, just outside the court proper Zuma and his entourage emerged. The cameras followed him eagerly, swirling around him in their anxiety not to miss the crucial shots - all the way into the bathroom. Heavily-armed police prevented anyone from breaching the privacy of the urinal. He came out; and we all got more shots of him - this time actually going into court. There is something both farcical and ominous about this saga. It is a crucial watershed in South Africa's growth as a democratic society. What is needed more than anything is transparency. If Zuma is indeed innocent, then that truth must be shown in front of the world's media. So, too, if he is guilty the world, and more importantly, South Africans must be able to see that for themselves. Outside all day, about 2,000 of his supporters danced and sang to the accompaniment of taped music, including his trademark song 'Umshini wam' - 'Bring me my machine gun.' Many had been bussed in from all over the country; many were also visibly drunk. There was something like a ragtag, failed rock concert about it. Zuma's supporters had threatened to shut down the city. That they had not done. And yet, it would be a mistake to dismiss them. Under the drunkenness and the simplistic, even violent, slogans lies a real desperation. These people are the victims of the brutality of apartheid for whom the golden promise of Nelson Mandela and the lesser hopes of Thabo Mbeki have brought nothing. They are the true heartland of this country, and they see Zuma as their savior. Posted by: CNN Producer, Hamilton Wende |
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