Fourteen years after the advent of democracy, there has been a bloodless coup in South Africa with the transfer of presidential power from Thabo Mbeki to Kgalema Motlanthe. Like all coups, it served the narrow self-interest of a group of power-hungry politicians; it took place against the backdrop of vicious political infighting; and it has left the country in a state of political flux. But the dramatic events of the past few weeks offer hope, too, for they have accelerated a process of a political realignment which, in the long term, will bolster constitutional democracy.

The African National Congress (ANC) justified its decision to “recall” Mbeki from the presidency, just seven months before a general election, on the grounds of national “stability” and “the unity and cohesion of the ANC”. But the truth is at once more ordinary and sordid: Mbeki’s ouster was motivated by political revenge. And it forms part of a strategy to ensure that his nemesis, ANC President Jacob Zuma, becomes state president without facing his day in court on fraud and corruption charges.

Mbeki’s recall and subsequent resignation were sparked by a court judgment: last month, the Pietermaritzburg High Court ruled, on the basis of a technicality, that the prosecution of Zuma by the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) was invalid. Zuma’s supporters enthusiastically welcomed the judgment, as they interpreted it to mean that their leader was off the hook.

Buoyed by inferences in the verdict that Mbeki had meddled with the NPA to secure Zuma’s prosecution, pressure mounted within the ruling party to recall Mbeki. A subsequent announcement by the NPA that it would appeal the judgment was ascribed to “Mbekivellian” machination, and the pressure reached boiling point. Mbeki was prevailed upon to resign.

This was the ultimate revenge that the hardliners in the Zuma camp had been seeking since Zuma defeated Mbeki in the race for the presidency of the ANC in December last year. But Mbeki’s removal from office was also motivated by the ANC’s desire to find a “political solution” to Zuma’s legal problems. One such solution would be to appoint a pliable head of the NPA (in terms of the constitution, it is a presidential appointment) willing to drop the charges against Zuma. Another solution, down the line, would be to amend the constitution to grant a sitting president immunity from prosecution.

Circumventing the legal process to get Zuma off the hook is in the ANC’s interest, but not the country’s. Conversely, the speedy and successful resolution of Zuma’s case may prove fatal to Zuma’s presidential ambitions, but it is necessary if we are to close the chapter on this sorry affair.

There is prima facie evidence that Zuma accepted 783 bribes totalling R4.2 million (£280,000) over a period of ten years. Zuma cannot credibly occupy any office of state until a court of law has had a chance to weigh the evidence and establish his innocence. Yet he has exploited every legal avenue to avoid answering the case against him in court, and now he and his clique in the ruling party have their sights on a special political deal outside the framework of the law. That is why Motlanthe, the most senior parliamentarian in Zuma’s cabal, was elected to serve as the interim “caretaker” president: the ANC hopes Motlanthe will quash Zuma’s prosecution, and make way for him as head of state next year.

But it is unlikely that Motlanthe will be satisfied with a brief spell of seat-warming. Moreover, his public statements about defending the constitutional order suggest that he might be unwilling to countenance any special dispensation for Zuma that falls foul of the law or the constitution.

There is another good reason to believe that he may refuse to accede to the hardliners’ demands and reject a political solution to Zuma’s legal problems: it is rumoured that Motlanthe harbours long-term presidential ambitions himself.

If Motlanthe proves intractable on the matter, and if he is disinclined to pass the presidential baton to Zuma after the next election, the Zuma faction will itself be factionalised.

The ANC is already irredeemably divided – between supporters of Mbeki and supporters of Zuma, and between those who uphold the constitution as the supreme law of the Republic and those who believe, in Zuma’s words, that “the ANC is more important than even the constitution of the country”.

Zuma’s backers are willing to subvert the constitution for their leader’s benefit. There is nothing unique about this. Almost every liberation movement has done the same thing after attaining power. Liberation movements make very bad democratic governments for one key reason: liberation struggles are about attaining power. Constitutional democracy is about limiting power. And no liberation movement seems willing to accept that.

There is talk of disgruntled former members of Mbeki’s cabinet, a third of whom resigned after Mbeki was recalled—although some of them were subsequently reappointed by Motlanthe—breaking away from the ANC to form a new party with the constitution as its lodestar.

The realignment of South African politics is underway, and if the cracks which have begun to emerge in the Zuma camp widen, the process will be accelerated.

The role of the party that I lead, the Democratic Alliance, is to facilitate the reconfiguration of political parties, drawing a clear line between those who believe in constitutionalism and those who do not. This realignment will not hinge on opposition parties alone, since it is not just opposition parties that care about the constitution. There are many in the ANC who want to defend the constitution and who are appalled by the growing trend of anti-constitutionalism in their own party.

If, in the long-term, the bloodless coup brings together constitutionalists under one political umbrella, its short-term pain will have been worth suffering.