Pretoria, October 2005, Week two
SOON AFTER I BECAME MINISTER of intelligence services, a senior member who had served in the apartheid regime suddenly died in office. I was key speaker at his memorial service in Pretoria, where the old and new order spooks mingled to pay their respects. Among the assembled I spotted Billy Masetlha. He had worked with the man in the early days of the amalgamation of the liberation and apartheid institutions, and had risen to head our foreign service, the SASS. Billy had been redeployed several times, which I came to believe pointed to work tensions he had likely generated, and was then directly serving President Mbeki as his security adviser. We had a friendly chat, after which I addressed the gathering, paying respects to the widow and the deceased’s family and colleagues. Billy followed suit, expressing much the same sentiment concerning the transition under Mandela and the importance of building trust in the security and intelligence sectors. When he was on form, Billy Masetlha could be impressive. However, he could also come across as a mix of over-ambition and that particular disease of spooks whose power to manipulate people and facts leads to an unhealthy arrogance.
How had our relationship changed in a year? I had come to think of Billy as someone with a hidden agenda. He had a calculated charm, or so I felt, was one of the foremost of the June 1976 student group who had joined the ANC, was intelligent and did not lack charisma. His area of work and his locality in the exile years and beyond had barely connected with mine.1 Once in exile, the intellectually bright and ambitious like Billy soon caught the eye of ANC leaders and experienced rapid promotion. An articulate group drawn into the exile leadership stratum formed around Thabo Mbeki, who needed bright cadres in the publicity section he ran out of Lusaka – the Department of Information and Publicity – and in the international solidarity arena. Others joined the ANC National Intelligence and Security Department, known as NAT, which was headed by Mzwai Piliso, who needed socially smooth characters for information gathering. By the late 1980s Billy had been recruited. Mzwai’s interest in Billy appears to have resulted from important information Billy provided concerning a testy veteran leader, one John Motsabe, who had been scheming with a Tswana-speaking group (Billy’s ethnic origin) bent on secretly advancing their leadership fortunes in the tense build-up to the ANC’s 1985 national consultative conference in Kabwe, Zambia. Within a few years, following changes in NAT with the removal of Piliso, Billy became very close to the new head of its intelligence structure, Jacob Zuma.
As fate would have it, Billy became director general of the National Intelligence Agency (NIA) under my executive leadership. Billy was recommended by the Presidency and by several ministers with whom he had worked over the years. Close colleagues of his in his initial years in the government secret service were later to express the view that he was overly ambitious and believed he had his own secret agenda. This, they explained, was the reason he had fallen out badly with the former intelligence minister, Joe Nhlanhla, who had him transferred out of his department. Although this history was news to me, I could not be totally sure of what I was hearing since there was a great deal of backbiting among former comrades, who tended to fall out for a number of reasons – particularly because of rivalry over top positions. As for Joe Nhlanhla, he had suffered a debilitating stroke some years previously and there was no possibility of obtaining his point of view. Even so, although he was highly principled and absolutely incorruptible, he was one of the most inarticulate, irascible and emotional of people, and at the best of times I would have been cautious about his judgement. After he was recommended to me, I grilled Billy for over a week, interviewing him many times, before indicating to President Mbeki that I would be prepared to give it a go with him as head of the domestic NIA and its counter-intelligence arm. Billy had in fact done a stint of service as director general of home affairs under Mangosuthu Buthelezi. That had not worked out, and Buthelezi had managed to get agreement from Mbeki to replace Billy – which is how Billy landed up working in the Presidency. Billy claimed the reason for disagreement was political differences, but I came to believe, and heard from Buthelezi, that he had failed to follow the minister’s directives. In agreeing to Billy’s appointment I cautioned him that falling out with me would be an unfortunate hat-trick given the experience of Nhlanhla and Buthelezi. I hoped this might deter him from possible future failings.
Billy commenced work in December 2004, a bare six months after I had become minister. At first things started well, as he was busy getting to grips with his department and had his hands full. It was into the new year, however, that I began to notice what I perceived as a hint of disrespect reflected in his attitude to me.
This started in February 2005 on a trip to Cuba. I believed we had a great deal to learn from the Cubans and regarded them as close allies. I consequently put together a delegation of top officials including Billy Masetlha, and Tim Dennis, the director general of SASS. Boarding the flight at Johannesburg’s international airport (now O.R. Tambo), Billy noticeably failed to greet me and isolated himself on the long haul to Havana while the other officials were as sociable as could be. He appeared attentive enough on arrival and during meetings with our hosts, but on a recreation day, when we took to the sea in a motor launch to fish and swim, he chose once again to isolate himself and get drunk in front of our hosts. I later came to think this had been a sign of the inner tension he was experiencing.
Back home he began arriving late at the regular executive committee meetings I held in my boardroom. These were attended by a dozen of the leadership, heading the various intelligence sectors. All the men were in formal suits and ties, the women in power dress, all keen to impress with their attentiveness and the value they could add to proceedings. Billy was invariably late, offering mumbled excuses about having been caught up at NIA headquarters across town. After the third such occurrence I told him in no uncertain terms that his lack of punctuality was unacceptable. He was visibly nervous and apologised profusely.
One of his fellow officers happened to confide in me shortly afterwards, explaining that Billy’s behaviour was cause for concern. He had spent Christmas [2004] at Nkandla, Zuma’s rural homestead, where Zuma had an indaba with his confidants. Billy has not been the same since. The officer had asked Billy what he had been smoking at Nkandla?
Although Billy never came late to my meetings thereafter, my concern about his behaviour was only to increase. Of particular note was a fallout involving a judicial commission of inquiry into the workings of the investigative branch of the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA), the Scorpions or, more formally, the Directorate of Special Operations. Judge Sisi Khampepe (mentioned in the emails) had been tasked by President Mbeki to consider the location and mandate of the elite crime-busting unit, which had become controversial: should it remain with the NPA as its investigative arm or be redeployed to the police? A hot turf war had erupted, linked to perceptions that the Scorpions were inclined to investigate liberation movement figures suspected of corrupt deals and that these were in fact selective prosecutions linked to political agendas. While there was genuine unease on the part of a number of ministers and officials, the Scorpions had undoubtedly proved their mettle, and their sting, through numerous successes in their fight against high-level crime. The surface issue was that they had no intelligence-gathering mandate such as the NIA and police intelligence; that they were not members of the National Intelligence Coordinating Committee (NICOC); and that they were not under the parliamentary oversight of the Joint Standing Committee on Intelligence. I believed that the Scorpions’ success merited support, and that through simple administrative steps they could be incorporated under NICOC, brought under parliamentary oversight, and be given a mandate to collect intelligence. I had seen far too many successful structures rendered ineffectual, including during the struggle days, to agree to drastic changes. There was a perception that the NPA was cherry-picking cases to investigate for political reasons, and I shared the disquiet about that. What was required was to appoint an independent board with the task of deciding on prosecutions.
I had permitted Masetlha to submit a separate NIA submission arguing for the transfer of the Scorpions to the South African Police Service, but had ordered him to make a number of changes about issues that I deemed contentious and unnecessary. One such referred to the Scorpions as having been trained by the FBI. Not that I liked or wished to protect that rather infamous agency, but I pointed out to him that the training had been set up by ANC ministers and that his own intelligence service members had initially received some training from the British. It was therefore inconsistent to point fingers at the Scorpions. He also had identified two members of the Scorpions, a South African and a British citizen living in South Africa, intimating they were suspect agents. Such suspicions were normally never made public, and I required him to delete the identities in order to avoid unnecessary controversy and possible law suits being filed against us. No doubt that this later led some people to attempt to smear me as protecting ‘enemies’ of the state. While he undertook to make the changes, I soon discovered he had only done so in copies sent to me but not to Judge Khampepe. The media quickly spotted the differences between his submission and mine, and contradictions between us then certainly came out in the open. In answer to a reporter I expressed my disquiet. The newspaper headline ran: ‘Kasrils lashes out at NIA boss’. The subheading explained: ‘The minister is at odds with intelligence head Billy Masetlha over the future of the Scorpions as an independent unit.’2
As a result of all this, Billy Masetlha was looking decidedly nervous. He had been avoiding me since the inspector general’s investigation had got under way and various members of the NIA were interviewed by the inquiry. He was at my side looking contrite as part of a NIA event where I was to deliver a speech.
The entire intelligence community, domestic and foreign, was abuzz with talk of the botched surveillance job on the publicly respected Macozoma and the ongoing investigation. There is nothing like the gossip and indiscretion among some ANC spooks when discussing on street corners, at Sunday barbecues and in dark corridors whatever is remotely controversial – and, further, sharing their views with journalists of choice. I suspected that Masetlha was leaving no stone unturned to give his version of events, including my alleged counter-revolutionary behaviour, to his select confidants in the ANC susceptible to any spin-doctoring. I did not care to play games with him. There were rumours that were spread that I was working with Israel’s Mossad. As much as that might irritate me, and the whiff of anti-Semitism which accompanied such an outrageous assertion, I could shrug the claim off, knowing that my solidarity with the Palestinian cause was not only sufficient rebuttal but strengthened me within my own skin. My concern and focus was primarily on countering the confusion which would be rife within the intelligence community and beyond. I needed to hammer home the necessary warning to my staff not to abuse the burden of trust that had been granted to them by the Constitution and the people of the country.
It had long been planned that I open a new NIA archive building on the vast intelligence services estate situated on the outskirts of Pretoria – a place referred to as ‘the Farm’ – where NIA and SASS had their imposing buildings, reception areas, residences and huge satellite dishes for the interception of communications. The site was a well-known landmark to motorists driving by on the Delmas Road, who were left no doubt in awe of the location.
The hard-working woman who was curator of the archive welcomed me, Masetlha and senior management according to protocol. Her smile and tone were natural. Whatever scandals might be rocking the establishment, she was proud of the new premises and the function of the archive. Masetlha meekly ran through a few words of welcome to his minister, with thanks for my making the time to be present. He attempted to put on a brave face but was uncharacteristically subdued. I welcomed the opening of the new archive and thanked the staff for their dedicated work. It gave me the opportunity to emphasise how vital the keeping of records is. I stressed the importance of preserving documentation to maintain a record of work, for intellectual memory and for future research purposes. That was all regular stuff and pretty low key. Then I upped the ante. ‘But there are other reasons too,’ I added, causing some attentive heads, including Billy’s, to lift a trifle. ‘The archive represents a paper trail, a record, of everything we do. It holds us accountable to our regulations, to the Constitution and the rule of law.’ At that you could have heard a pin drop. I talked about the imperative of those in the security services, of necessity working in secret, to abide by rules and regulations and not abuse the power vested in them. I could not have had a more attentive audience and I thought my message was sinking in. I spoke of the need for professionalism and identified the principles the services should abide by. There were five and I spelt them out:
One: We were not above the law.
Two: We were accountable to the elected and duly appointed civilian authority.
Three: We accepted the principle of political non-partisanship.
Four: We owed our loyalty to the Constitution, the citizens of our country and the state.
Five: We strove to maintain high standards of proficiency in the performance of our functions.
I emphasised that any deviation would not be tolerated. At the conclusion copies of my speech and posters announcing the five principles were distributed. These were handed out with instructions to display the posters prominently throughout the services. I announced that civic education lectures and discussions would soon start as part of training programmes and everyday work.
Becoming accustomed to Masetlha’s ways disinclined me from being complacent even though I felt I had him on the back foot. I believed he was a doughty opponent who would not simply give in. Clearly, what must have been worrying him most was the relentlessness of the inspector general’s investigation. I pondered the growing issues hanging above both Masetlha’s and my head. What was the connection between the Macozoma surveillance, the surfacing of the emails, and the Khampepe inquiry into the Scorpions? What about the strange incident of the fire at Luthuli House and Masetlha’s appearance there?
One night I tossed and turned in my sleep and dreamt of Masetlha smoking a magic substance with Zuma and his cronies at the Nkandla residence, with sangomas casting spells to oust Mbeki from office. They were guarded by Mossad agents in black masks, and above their heads the hideous hadedas shrieked and groaned like banshees. Do not believe that spy chiefs sleep peacefully.