Bald, with dark-tinted glasses, the middle-aged man in the grey suit and open-necked blue shirt moves to the edge of the stage and addresses the large crowd in calm, measured tones. For the first time in a long day of slogan-chanting and fists punching the air, his followers fall silent.

All eyes are on Jacob Zuma, the deputy president of South Africa’s ruling African National Congress (ANC), and champion of the masses. Acquitted of rape and fraud, and on course to be the country’s next president, he strikes fear into the hearts of many South Africans.

Here, in a packed theatre in the still impoverished township of Sebokeng, once one of the most radical anti-apartheid bastions, Mr Zuma, 65, is among friends. He knows it.

The country’s most charismatic and populist, some would add dangerous, politician recalls the past, pays tribute to fallen comrades, remembers long days of struggle and finally liberation, and talks of the need to meet unfulfilled hopes and promises. “Some of these things will change,” he says quietly, then shouts: “We know where we come from, we know where we are and we certainly know where we are going.”

Defiantly, he bursts into Umshini Wami, a freedom song that loosely translates as “Bring Me My Machine-gun”. The song used to be chanted by the militants of Umkhonto we Sizwe (Spear of the Nation), the ANC’s former armed wing of which Mr Zuma was head of military intelligence. It has become the anthem of those who have not benefited from the end of white minority rule and South Africa’s transition to democracy.

The crowd, made up entirely of Mr Zuma’s grassroots supporters, is ecstatic and on its feet, singing and dancing in unison. This is not the land of the “Rainbow Nation”, but an area of 40 per cent unemployment, poor schools and inadequate local services. This is Mr Zuma’s heartland. The singing and the dancing represent the culmination of a successful day of campaigning.

To his critics who say such a song is out of place in the new, democratic South Africa, he ripostes: “There is no policy on singing within the ANC.

“Many died, many went to prison; we must remember them – if not we are bound to fail. What we are doing is remembering our comrades. We can remember them only by singing what they sang themselves.”

Among the poor it is hard to overestimate Mr Zuma’s popularity. T-shirts emblazoned with “100 per cent JZ” abound. In a long day, President Thabo Mbeki, who dismissed Mr Zuma as the country’s Deputy President in 2005 after he was implicated in a multimillion-pound corruption scandal, has not been mentioned.

Beset by corruption allegations, Mr Zuma, who defeated a highly publicised rape charge last year, has defied predictions of political demise. In recent months, aided by Mr Mbeki’s perceived aloofness and arrogance, his campaign has been rejuvenated.

He is now the leading candidate likely to be chosen as the ANC’s next president at a special conference in December – a development that has led to the biggest split since it took power. Mr Zuma now has the backing of the ANC’s traditional left wing: the trade unions, the Communist Party, the youth league and the students.

If he wins the December nomination, it would put him in line to be the ANC’s candidate for president in 2009, an election it is certain to win, when the current incumbent, Mr Mbeki, steps down after two terms. It is a prospect that terrifies a good half of the country.

“He is making promises he cannot deliver on. He is as capitalist as the rest of them but he is letting a genie out of the bottle and that is very dangerous,” said William Gumede, a political analyst and author of a book on ANC politics.

Mr Mbeki let it be known recently that he would be prepared to stand for a third term as ANC president, but in recent months support has ebbed away from him and few ANC provinces are expected to nominate him.

“Mbeki has painted himself into a corner . . . The only thing that can stop [Zuma] now is a new charge,” said Allister Sparks, the veteran South African journalist.

Mr Zuma was charged with corruption after his financial adviser was jailed for procuring him bribes from a French arms company, Thint. He escaped prosecution after the case was rejected on a technicality last year.

The National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) is reportedly building up a stronger case, but unless he is charged before the December ANC congress the charges are likely to fall away.

“No prosecutor will bring charges against a man set to be the country’s next president. Zuma is playing for a sort of advance presidential amnesty,” added Mr Sparks.

This week Mr Mbeki, who fears a Zuma presidency could damage his efforts to root out corruption, suspended the head of the NPA, Vusi Pikoli, amid rumours of a disagreement over issues related to the succession battle.

Reports said Mbeki supporters were angry at the slowness of a new prosecution being tabled against Mr Zuma and the granting of an arrest warrant against Jackie Selebi, the police chief, over links with organised crime. Mr Selebi, Mr Mbeki’s ally, could play a crucial role in sponsoring a compromise candidate to oppose Mr Zuma.

Mr Zuma, meanwhile, has stepped up his campaign. He embarked on a charm offensive with big business. Every weekend he is to be found at tribal rallies or church gatherings. He has been photographed at a barbecue in the company of white Afrikaners.

Last weekend he attended the annual celebrations of the Zulu King Shaka, one of whose successors King Cetshwayo defeated the British in the battle of Isandlwana in 1879. A Zulu himself, Mr Zuma was dressed in leopard loincloths and danced with the current Zulu King, Goodwill Zwelithini, and Zulu warriors.

In his speech the King praised Mr Zuma as a “true son of the Zulu nation”. The five million Zulus are South Africa’s largest tribe and have enormous influence.

At his rape trial, Mr Zuma admitted that he had slept with the daughter of a family friend, a fellow detainee on Robben Island, where he spent ten years. The alleged victim was HIV-positive, which Mr Zuma knew. Despite this, he took no precautions and afterwards said he took a shower to prevent contracting the virus.

His statement outraged feminists and antiAids activists. South Africa has one of highest HIV-Aids infection rates in the world.

But Mr Zuma turned the incident to his advantage. “I am human and I made a mistake. I admitted it. That could be a strength,” he said.

In an interview with The Times, Mr Zuma said that he was being vilified, as both Nelson Mandela and Thabo Mbeki were before they took office. “People want to separate the ANC and the individual. There is absolutely no reason to fear Jacob Zuma.”

Many South Africans, including the woman who brought the rape allegations, would disagree. Since the end of the case, she has fled the country after receiving death threats.

What he said . . .

On monogamy
“There are plenty of politicians who have mistresses and children that they hide so as to pretend they’re monogamous. I prefer to be open. I love my wives and I’m proud of my children.”

On homosexuality
“Same-sex marriage is a disgrace to the nation and to God. When I was growing up, unqingili [“homosexuals” in Zulu] could not stand in front of me. I would knock [them] out.”

On rape allegations
“As soon as I heard she was laying charges I knew there had to be a plot. It’s so obvious: a woman wearing very little comes and sits down on your bed and asks to get under the blanket with you.”

On unprotected sex, at the rape trial
“I had prior knowledge of the risk from the work I did with the South African National Aids Council. I knew the risk was minimal.”

On the shower in question
“It would minimise the risk of contracting the disease [HIV].”

Sources: Aegis, Mail and Guardian, Times archive

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