UCT made the headlines in Daily Maverick on 03 October. This was certainly not the first time that Vice-Chancellor Professor Kgethi Phakeng had been the focus of media scrutiny. The report by the university ombud, Zetu Makamandela-Mguqulwa, raised concerns about the bullying managerial style of Phakeng and more recently News24 ran a story questioning the award of a sabbatical to the VC.

One of the reasons that universities attract media attention is that they are important public resources. They are centres of knowledge production and contribute to the country’s economy and society in a variety of ways. They house a rich storehouse of expert skill. Another reason is that they are under the spotlight in terms of their ability to change and accommodate new circumstances. 

In South Africa, the need to transform — particularly in terms of ‘race’ — has become a major pressure on universities. Much is expected by government. More students should be admitted. Staff and student profiles should be demographically redressed such that black South Africans predominate. The demand was that the culture of universities should change and be decolonised. There was very little acknowledgement of radical changes that have been made over the previous three to four decades.

Expectations of radical and immediate change have, especially since #RhodesMustFall in 2015, resulted in widespread protest, disruption and polarisation. The media have followed these developments closely. 

But another reason has been that increasingly Vice-Chancellors are styled as Chief Executive Officers. They are given and take more power. They are increasingly regarded as synonymous with the universities they lead and the press (and social media) give them the platform to present themselves as important public figures.

University of KwaZulu-Natal 

In the case of the University of KwaZulu-Natal (UKZN) in the mid-2000s and early 2010s, and UCT in the mid-2010s to the present, the mix of prominent Vice-Chancellors, the demand for transformation and the resultant institutional trauma and decline follow similar paths.

In a 1970 hit single, the Beatles posed that “The long and winding road, That leads to your door, Will never disappear”. For many South Africans with nearly thirty years of transformation behind them, the journey already seems long, the road winding and the destination uncertain. 

The road is necessarily long as it understandably takes a long time to correct the terrible injustice and legacies of apartheid and colonialism. It is less easy to see why the road should be so winding and often circuitous, however. So why has transformation been so difficult and destructive and why is its ending less than promising?

In 2002 Professor William Malegupuru Makgoba became Vice-Chancellor of the University of Natal. His appointment did not begin auspiciously — there was substantial opposition to his appointment partly because of his past record as a manager and partly because of the spat at Wits University that centred on his misrepresenting his CV. 

In 2004 the University of Natal was merged with the University of Durban-Westville to become UKZN. Within a few months, it became clear that the merger provided the opportunity for government, the Vice-Chancellor and various other university and non-university constituents to pursue a radical transformation policy. This process is the subject of detailed scholarly analysis in Chetty, N., & Merrett, C. (2013). The struggle for the soul of a South African University: The university of KwaZulu-Natal. Academic freedom, corporatisation and transformation.

The goal of transformation was filed down to two goals. The employment of black African staff and the restructuring of the organisational architecture, centralising power and reducing the influence of academics. 

A platform for the latter goal had already been established by the previous VC, Professor Brenda Gourley. She initiated a managerial, accountancy-driven model where academics increasingly were considered to be employees (rather than professionals or partners in an academic project). Student numbers ballooned in response to political pressure as well as financial need. 

Makgoba accelerated the process of attacking, removing or undermining checks and balances that might have tempered the transformation imperative and saved some of the key functions of the university from damage. Senate was battered into meek submission. The SRC was drawn in as a convenient ally (and later attacked when it began to see the light). Decision-making was increasingly top-down and debate was controlled from the centre. Much of this was cloaked in the language of transformation with race increasingly prominent as the only indicator. 

Black staff were organised into Baaf (Black African Academics Forum) and given a seat at the Senate table and a prominent position in all debates. Other staff organisations were side-lined, ignored or attacked. Most staff went along with the idea that all this was justified as part of a redress programme and either remained silent or supported Makgoba. 

Dissident staff were increasingly disciplined — often via show trials where people like Christine Qunta were given front-row seats as judge and jury. The ANC were drawn in to specifically support Makgoba. 

Reducing the retirement age to 60 (a good means of reducing the numbers of white and Indian male employees) went along with punitive actions against any who protested, including the Dean of Health Sciences, who spent R1-million of his own money to eventually clear his own name after being removed as Dean. 

Council became little more than a talk shop as Makgoba began to pull the strings. As repression grew more obvious there was some resistance but mostly this was expressed by departures and resignations. Makgoba hired second-rate managers into very senior positions and kept them so long as they did his bidding. In this practice, he was entirely non-racial and non-sexist; any collaborator will do. 

UKZN survived Makgoba but it is a pale shadow of its former self. On Makgoba’s UKZN webpage the claim is that “He also led the transformation processes of UKZN, establishing it as ‘the most transformed higher education institution in South Africa.’”

University of Cape Town

Since 2015 when #RhodesMustFall turned UCT upside down, UCT has been a cauldron of conflict. Much of what happened has been the subject of scholarly attention by David Benatar in his 2021 book The Fall of UCT. 

Prior to the focus on Rhodes’ statue, transformation had been a prominent part of university debate. Access, throughput, staff appointments and the curriculum had all been vigorously debated — but #RMF brought fire and fury to the debates and, as Benatar describes it, the then-VC, Dr Max Price, capitulated to the forces that assailed him and the university. 

The constituencies that demanded change included students, but particularly small groupings like Pasma which became increasingly influential after the Shackville protests in February 2016. These protests were increasingly violent and were accompanied by parallel processes amongst staff where dissent and genuine debate became increasingly difficult. 

A strong supporter of #RMF and later #FeesMustFall was the Black Academic Caucus (BAC). The BAC steadily gained influence and recognition despite never having a formal membership or constitution and mobilised using a discourse around ‘whiteness’ to silence critics. 

Staff were called to welcome these developments in the name of progress towards transformation, for the sake of redress. At all levels, from staff to student, normal meritocratic rules were steadily undermined in the name of cutting ties with the colonial and apartheid past. Those who objected risked marginalisation or were pilloried. 

The Academics Union (AU) was largely silent during this period, objecting neither to the centralisation of power, nor the increasingly intolerant announcements within the university space. It is heartening to see that this trend may be ending with the AU making a strong statement that the Lis Lange affair undermines “the cornerstones of a university — institutional autonomy, academic freedom, and the space for robust debate”.

In 2017 Kgethi Phakeng arrived at UCT as a Deputy Vice-Chancellor and in 2018 succeeded Max Price as Vice-Chancellor. The ground had already been prepared for her by the increasingly influential BAC, with white (and, increasingly, black non-South African) staff being pushed into defensive, mea culpa positions. The most explicitly controversial staff who promoted race-based transformation and inflamed the atmosphere were supported as they waged a divisive, race-based struggle within the university. 

Senate was increasingly quiescent. Council had been restructured and no longer appeared to work as an independent body in the interests of UCT. Along with other university bodies it promoted a new, narrow, nationalist vision for UCT. And morale amongst staff has plummeted 

Phakeng received some criticism, including from the university ombud, but this was ignored or rejected. The idea that a black female Vice-Chancellor is a key victory for transformation — though she comes after Dr Mamphele Ramphele — puts her beyond any sense of accountability. Increasingly the language of Afrikan Womxn is used to promote transformation — this permits a notional (gendered) re-distribution of institutional power which actually concentrates power at the centre. For example, Phakeng has recently personally taken over line management finance, previously led by UCT’s Chief Operating Officer. 

All the while, UCT hails itself as the best university in Africa and ‘research’ is held up as a major mission of the university, together with (increasingly) the shedding of its colonial past. Art works and building names become distractions to conceal the move to convert UCT into a corporate-like structure with centralised power. Those who have the courage to express dissent are forced into very minor battles (about artworks, building names and so forth).

Will the surfacing of UCT’s troubles in the media help to solve the institution’s problems? There are some reasons for optimism. Compared to UKZN, UCT has more resources, deeper history, a larger body of influential alumni — including those who graduated since 1994. Unlike UKZN, UCT did not suffer a merger which destroyed the University of Natal brand, diluted its historical achievements and prevented the possibility of a united academic front against the new managerialism. 

On the other hand, Fallism has brought into being a new national and global climate which makes it very difficult to conduct debate because a discourse of racialised nationalism makes vulnerable any form of dissent.

If Jacob Zuma, John Hlope and Busisiwe Mkhwebane can survive for so long, why would we think that the UCT Chair of Council or its VC will meaningfully be held to account?

“A long and winding road” ends:

The wild and windy night
That the rain washed away
Has left a pool of tears
Crying for the day.

DM