IT was like something from an old science fiction movie, the sort of giddy Cold War stuff that, in the days before television, they'd fling at our drive-in cinema screens. Evil aliens would take over the world - but first they'd invade our minds, turning us into zomboid slaves.

And so it was at the South African Local Government Association beano in Midrand. Delegates stared in horror at the familiar figure addressing them on Tuesday. Who are you, they wondered, and what have you done with the President?

For yes, it was Jacob Zuma up there on the podium. But no, it wasn't Jacob Zuma - at least not the one they thought they knew. 

Here he was, all stumble-mumbles, delivering his Back to Basics plan to get local government back on track and calling on municipalities to employ people who possess the required qualifications and warning them not to compromise the quality of services in communities by giving jobs to friends and family members who weren't up to the task. "Because," he added, "a cousin of my cousin might not be a driver and might have bought a licence for all I know." 

A moment, you may say, wholly unburdened by irony. But it got worse.

If he was a "dictator", Zuma declared, he would banish laziness. This was because the government's provision of low-cost housing and other service delivery amenities was not sustainable and was creating a culture of laziness and dependency.

"People don't work fast," he said, "people say they are free. The white man has left, they are now free."

To illustrate this point, out came the extraordinary tale of a mango farmer. "The fellow spreads the sack on the ground, waiting for the mango to drop," Zuma was quoted as saying. "He is [too] lazy to climb the tree and pick the mangoes. Why? Because we are free. We shouldn't be like that. Sometimes I worry when people demand things for free, even things they can do themselves."

Little wonder the Economic Freedom Fighters have accused Zuma of being a racist - he was turning into Steve Hofmeyr.

Of course, local government did not take too kindly to the President's plan, as it suggested that all was not well with councils' "functioning". Or, as Tshwane mayor Kgosientso Ramokgopa told delegates, it "supports the narrative that we don't know what we are doing". As narratives go, that one certainly doesn't seem to be lacking in the support department. 

Nevertheless, delegates were most indignant that Pretoria had accused them of corruption, nepotism, the use of costly consultants and generally unqualified leadership while, as Business Day tactfully noted, "the same challenges existed at national government level".

But the councils' biggest problem with the Back to Basics blueprint was that it didn't dole out more money their way. This was a serious shortcoming and the municipalities have been giving Co-operative Governance Minister Pravin Gordhan quite a headache with their demands that Pretoria increase their financial allocations - and raise the upper limits on salaries, allowances and benefits, including funds for travelling and accommodation.

And speaking of accommodation, one delegate, Sol Plaatje local municipality councillor Winnie Ngobeza, has even demanded that councillors be given state funerals similar to those for cabinet ministers in the national government.

The intimation of mortality suggests that they are not without humility in local government. But why stop at state funerals? 

Here at the Mahogany Ridge, we expect that, given the present wave of moronic vandalism posing as progressive engagement in the debate over the symbols of our colonial past, our landscape could soon be littered with empty plinths all in dire need of new statues. Why not of these tireless servants of the people?

Perhaps Arts and Culture Minister Nathi Mthethwa may want to consider the matter. For what it's worth, Mthethwa has proven himself to be commendably phlegmatic regarding the outcry over the Rhodes statue at the University of Cape Town - and has, on several occasions, pointed out that Marian Walgate's sculpture of the imperialist is a protected work in terms of the National Heritage Resources Act.

And, provided it is more than 60 years old, any public statue is considered a heritage resource and protected by law.

This doesn't mean Walgate's statue cannot be relocated or even put in storage. But any action to this end can only take place after extensive consultations with all concerned parties and with the approval of the relevant heritage authorities. Look it up - you'll see that the process is exhaustive.

And given that the k*k chuckers have consistently refused to enter into any discussion over the Rhodes statue, well, we're in for a long smelly stalemate.

This article first appeared in the Weekend Argus.

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