[Far
from the heated electoral battle in America, a debate over campaign financing
and the proximity of political leaders to big business is also brewing in
Africa. The Gupta saga reflects the dramatic rise in influence of the Indian
diaspora on the continent, as well as the challenges they face — particularly
allegations that they finance corrupt despots from South Africa to Uganda.
Calling out influence peddling by Indian businessmen isn’t new. Nor are the
prospects of a backlash — often fueled by xenophobia and economic woes. But
today’s worries signal a revival of concern that had receded significantly
since attacks against Indians in Uganda in the ’70s, Fiji in the ’80s and Kenya
in the ’90s.]
By Charu Sudan Kasturi
President Jacob Zuma’s friendship with the
three Gupta brothers — Ajay, Atul and Rajesh, who run one of South Africa’s
most successful conglomerates — is well known: Zuma’s family members have
worked for the Guptas in the past, and their bond is such that the Zumas and
the Guptas collectively are often dubbed “the Zuptas.” The Guptas immigrated to
South Africa in 1993 from a small town in northern India and now own more than
a dozen companies with interests spanning computers, media, mining, finance and
armaments. But allegations of cronyism boiled over this spring after South
Africa’s Deputy Minister of Finance Mcebisi Jonas accused the Guptas of
promising him the finance minister’s job, a charge the family denies. Under a
barrage of criticism, the Guptas resigned from the directorship of their
flagship family company and fled the country, leaving an increasingly anxious
Indian community behind. They feel that “the Guptas have done a disfavor to
them,” Penumala says.
Some contribute publicly, others discreetly.
But they all support the party in power.
Far from the heated electoral battle in
America, a debate over campaign financing and the proximity of political
leaders to big business is also brewing in Africa. The Gupta saga reflects the
dramatic rise in influence of the Indian diaspora on the continent, as well as
the challenges they face — particularly allegations that they finance corrupt
despots from South Africa to Uganda. Calling out influence peddling by Indian
businessmen isn’t new. Nor are the prospects of a backlash — often fueled by
xenophobia and economic woes. But today’s worries signal a revival of concern
that had receded significantly since attacks against Indians in Uganda in the
’70s, Fiji in the ’80s and Kenya in the ’90s.
“Businesspeople finance politicians
everywhere, so campaign financing is natural,” Sudhir Ruparelia, founder of one
of Uganda’s largest conglomerates and the country’s richest man, says, pointing
out that it’s entirely legal to do so. “We’re fully above board,” he adds. Many
Ugandan Indians see President Yoweri Museveni, in power since 1986, as a long-term
ally. Museveni, after all, apologized for predecessor Idi Amin’s 1972 eviction
of 70,000 South Asians, invited Indian business leaders to return and helped
get them back stolen property. But critics of Museveni — who won another
five-year term in April — feel that the prosperous Indian community funds only
the president, skewing elections. “The Indian community is supporting Museveni
big time,” says Henry Mugazi, head of the Alliance for Campaign Finance
Monitoring, a Kampala-based election watchdog in Uganda. “Some contribute
publicly, others discreetly. But they all support the party in power.”
Worries of a broader backlash against the
Indian community in both Uganda and South Africa are fed by signals that it’s
already begun. In February, ahead of the Ugandan presidential election, for
example, the Indian high commission in Kampala cautioned Indians against
attending political rallies after a member of the community was attacked. And
in South Africa, home to a 1.3-million-strong Indian diaspora, the extremist
Economic Freedom Fighters Party, led by JuliusMalema, accused Zuma of selling
the country “over a plate of curry.” Phumlani Mfeka, another radical youth
leader, effectively made a call to arms last October, with a tweet that read “A
good Indian is a dead Indian,” before citing attacks against Indians in past
decades as examples.
Many of the allegations simply reinforce
deep-seated stereotypes. Through the colonial era, Indians generally backed the
British in South Africa and East Africa and were involved in frequent clashes
with angry locals, Kumar explains. The stark economic differences that persist
between the Indian community and others haven’t helped. Some typically Indian
traits have also left the community alienated to a certain extent, says Sanjiv
Patel, a third-generation agro-industrialist in Uganda and member of Museveni’s
National Resistance Movement. “We keep businesses within our families and don’t
trust outsiders,” says Patel, noting that Indians also “like showing off.”
For a niece’s wedding back in 2013, the
Guptas — whose family spokesman declined OZY’s request for comment — flew in a
chartered plane full of Indian guests, two decades after they left India for
South Africa. The Zuma government allowed the plane to land at a military air
base, triggering controversy.
Allegations of influence peddling by the
Indian diaspora have also historically emerged when their economic clout has
intersected with politics in their adopted homes, as Indian diplomat T.P.
Sreenivasan learned the hard way. As Indian high commissioner in Suva in 1987,
he was ordered to leave by Fiji’s government after Indian leaders won elections
in the Pacific island country. “There was an unstated social contract that the
Indians could work in the plantations, in the economy, but should stay away
from politics,” Sreenivasan says. “When that contract broke down is when
clashes occurred.” A decade later, Sreenivasan faced unusual complaints in his
first meeting with members of the Kenyan opposition after taking over as high
commissioner in Nairobi. “They were really upset because the Indian community
was financing only the ruling party, not the opposition,” says Sreenivasan, now
retired.
He communicated the concerns to Indian
business leaders, who continued their one-sided funding. Then, in 1997, armed
locals broke into the Indian high commission, pinned Sreenivasan down and broke
his leg with iron rods. “That was a message,” and one that may again be
relevant to remember, Sreenivasan says. “Fund everyone, fund no one or get
out.”
