It has been official for some time: South African President Jacob Zuma has married his fourth wife. The wedding is his third in just over four years and the second since coming to power in 2009. He has fathered 21 children and counting, a robust performance by even the standards of polygamy. In an interview with CNN’s Fareed Zakaria a while back, Zuma defended his polygamous lifestyle, saying it was part of his culture, and there was no conflict between it and his presidential duties. Then sitting back in his chair, Zuma smiled broadly and assured Zakaria that he loved all his wives greatly and equally.

On the subject of loving his wives greatly and equally, we can take Zuma’s word for it. But we can’t do the same with his assertion that his private life has no implication for the taxpayer and for the efficacy of the presidency. As spouses of the president, the First Ladies enjoy state security, travel benefits, medical cover and secretaries. In a country with over-30 per cent unemployment and grinding poverty, these costs are not insignificant.

Modern economies are increasingly vulnerable to negative perceptions, a less than positive view of the leadership negatively affecting currency values and investment, even encouraging a brain drain. Zuma’s serial marriages could portray, rightly or wrongly, a leadership beholden to traditional worldviews in potential conflict with running a modern nation-state. Also, a country’s economy — especially in the areas of international financing and trade — is aided by its diplomatic power, a leveraging tool contributed to as much by the size of its economy as by moral leadership.

South Africa’s liberal constitution and the persons of Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu have given the country significant diplomatic power. Zuma’s lifestyle could begin to lessen that power.

South Africa has the highest incidence of rape in the world outside of the killing fields of Congo. This rape statistic is underpinned by a cavalier attitude towards women informed by a combination of cultural traditionalism and ineffectual socialisation of constitutional provisions and values with respect to gender equality. During his own trial on a charge of rape (he was eventually acquitted), Zuma highlighted this attitude, arguing, for instance, that certain ways of female dressing were an invitation to sex. It was during this trial that he also revealed his tragic-comedic ignorance of the nature of Aids, saying that hitting the shower immediately after the act was his way of avoiding contracting the virus.

South Africa also has a high HIV infection rate, fuelled by among other factors gender inequality and a traditional concept of African masculinity. Aids education in the country emphasises gender equality and rethinking the traditional concept of masculinity. The president’s marital example could unwittingly be undermining those lessons. The modern presidency is a combination of statutory duties and moral leadership, the latter meaning the use of the immense prestige of the office to preach (the Americans call it the “bully pulpit”) certain values and habits of thought. Zuma should be preaching, and showing by example, personal discipline, self-restraint, and personal habits commensurate with the spirit if not the letter of the constitutional provisions on gender equality.

In an essay, “Notes on Sloth,” Salman Rushdie writes that Oblomov — that literary metaphor for gross laziness — lives in each one of us, that we secretly long to be like him. So it could well be that most men long to be Zuma, in which case, he could dismiss my arguments as camouflaged jealousy — that I long to be in his marital position. He would be right. But then again, I am not the president of Africa’s most developed country, one nevertheless with grave socio-economic problems needing strong political and moral leadership, the voice of Africa at global forums, a diplomatic power in the geopolitical scheme of things.
But after all is said and done, if Jacob Zuma still feels that he has to marry every now and then, he should do it on his own time. After he leaves the presidency.

Tee Ngugi is a social and political commentator based in Nairobi