The Star Opinion

The mighty O'Sullivan... not so mighty after all?

Zohra Teke|Published

The highly anticipated appearance of forensic investigator Paul O’Sullivan before Parliament's ad hoc Committee finally kicked off this week.

Image: Armand Hough

Forget the popcorn. It’s Heidi mango season, sweet and juicy – exactly the kind of revelations I expected at the ad hoc committee when boogeyman Paul O’Sullivan finally agreed to testify. The man who, for years, carved an infamous media reputation as a seasoned forensic investigator and who dared to label the nation’s darling – KwaZulu-Natal Police Commissioner Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi – a “criminal”.

O’Sullivan stands accused of being the mastermind behind crime intelligence operations. More specifically, the Independent Police Investigative Directorate (IPID). After failing to convince the committee to allow him to make a virtual appearance, he arrived.

In the flesh. “I have receipts, I will reveal all!” he boldly declared ahead of his appearance. O’Sullivan, for years, projected the character of a man who was fearless, untouchable, beyond reproach – and a keyboard warrior often firing off statements to the media.

Bold, determined, and unshakable. His persona was feared. Talk of his powerful links to police and crime – and even accusations of being part of the alleged “Big 5 cartel” that controls the South African Police Service (SAPS) – have all emboldened his public persona. A man who stirs and is unshaken.After all, who dares to call Mkhwanazi a criminal?

And then, he appeared before the ad hoc committee, where, as my Heidi mangoes, the layers came off. Except it wasn’t sweet or juicy. Instead, O’Sullivan’s initial boisterous, flamboyant plan to set the agenda fell apart. “We can sit here all day, Chair, but I won’t answer questions relating to pre-1994 regarding my family or business,” he repeatedly quipped to the panel, who stared back, visibly irritated. Proceedings had not even begun. But they were having none of O’Sullivan’s attempts to set the tone. Not on his terms.

Perhaps having just returned from the United Kingdom had given rise to some brain fog in O’Sullivan, despite his having lived in South Africa for the past 30-odd years. South Africans don’t take kindly to being dictated to when they want answers. Especially in a politically volatile environment. Especially in Parliament.

The EFF’s Julius Malema led the pack, schooling O’Sullivan on how the committee works. “You’re not going to come here, take an oath, and then tell us what questions you won’t answer. It doesn’t work like that,” he fired back at O’Sullivan. And, one by one, his comments were backed up by other committee members.O’Sullivan almost shape-shifted, squirmed in his seat, and whimpered, eventually caving in to the committee chair’s suggestion to “cross that bridge when we come to it but answer for now”.

It was hilarious to witness. More hilarious was the moment when committee chair Molapi Lekganyane calmly instructed O’Sullivan to face Malema when responding to him. And, much to the amusement and shock of the committee, the feared O’Sullivan replied that he could not do so, as he had a spinal problem which meant he could not turn his back towards Malema to face him.

A quiet gasp and murmur could be heard from the committee. A man who supposedly controlled crime intelligence, SAPS, and other state agencies, was unable to face Malema? Lekganyane, again calmly in his soothing tone, requested that O’Sullivan be assisted so that his chair could be turned to face the panel when responding. Done.

But then, there was one more problem. After having his chair turned, O’Sullivan complained it kept moving, requesting a cushion or something. There was a look of disbelief amongst the panel. O’Sullivan – the man who, for years, and more recently, vowed to continue to fight corruption, who claimed to have survived several attempts on his life – now a shadow of his former image, asking for a cushion, unable to turn his chair to face the committee. But he claims to still work 70–80 hours a week, which Malema openly refused to believe.

O’Sullivan’s appearance on his first day before the ad hoc committee laid bare his background and how he spread his tentacles in sensitive areas of policing. Revelations that, despite not being security-vetted, he was able to secure positions in the SAPS, head Airport Security operations and hold key positions in South Africa’s national key points were shocking to hear. And the committee expressed their disbelief.

As O’Sullivan continued to name-drop, more details began to emerge, leaving the committee visibly taken aback. Armed with just a trainer course certificate, O'Sullivan managed to rise through the ranks of the country’s key forensic operations. He went on to explain how he trained 150 police reservists – including President Cyril Ramaphosa.

His name-dropping continued, including his engagements with former president Kgalema Motlanthe. O’Sullivan tried hard to convince the committee he was simply a crime and corruption fighter. That he had nothing to do with crime intelligence. And that the perception he was involved in this was factually incorrect and an inherently false narrative.

The committee listened, paced themselves, and allowed O’Sullivan this first day – a platform to self-praise. And he did. Boasting about his crime-fighting, name-dropping, accolades and achievements. When gently pressed for proof or probed on certain events or names to back up some of his claims, O’Sullivan reverted to the “age defence”. Selectively recalling some details – even finer, specific dates – and blaming his age and memory lapse for not being able to recall other details when questioned.

The committee is not buying it. As the day drew to a close, patience ran out, tempers frayed, and fatigue gave rise to outbursts on both sides. Committee members warned O'Sullivan he would be subjected to their questions, and they were fed up with his day-long self-praise.

Red in the face, visibly exhausted, O'Sullivan shot back with a veiled threat, exasperated. "If I am going to be subjected to a kangaroo court, I will withdraw my co-operation!" he threatened. Malema had enough and shot back 'That's a white supremacist attitude. We are not going to be disrespected like that, we are going to ask questions!" he bellowed.

The voice of calm once again intervened. Lekganyane soothed tempers, gently referred to O'Sullivan as a fatherly figure whose co-operation was needed, and appealed for calm. The committee shook off O'Sullivan's threats of withdrawing co-operation and warned of a comeback. Like a pack of wolves, they are encircling O'Sullivan.It’s going to be an interesting pounce. The hunter is now the hunted.