THE SUPREME COURT OF APPEAL
OF SOUTH AFRICA
Case no: 569/04
REPORTABLE
In the matter between:
RONALD STUART NAPIER Appellant
and
BAREND PETRUS BARKHUIZEN Respondent
BEFORE: MPATI DP, CAMERON JA, VAN HEERDEN JA,
MLAMBO JA and CACHALIA AJA
HEARD: 3 NOVEMBER 2005
DELIVERED: 30 NOVEMBER 2005
Constitution – application to law of contract – applies horizontally
Insurance – Time bar clause – not unconstitutional
JUDGMENT
CAMERON JA:
2
[1] Are time-bar clauses in shor t-term insurance contracts
unconstitutional? In the Pretoria High Court De Villiers J ruled that
they are. The respond ent (plaintiff) insu red his 1999 BMW 328i
motor vehicle for R181 000 with a syndicate of Lloyd’s underwriters
of London, represented in South Africa by the appellant (defendant).1
The policy provided:
CLAIMS PROCEDURE AND REQUIREMENTS
5.2.5 if we reject liability for any claim made under this Policy we will be released
from liability unless summons is served … within 90 days of repudiation.
On 24 November 1999 the vehicle was involved in an accident. The
plaintiff informed the insurer of the incident timeously, but on 7
January 2000, it rejected liability. The plaintiff served summons on
the defendant more than two years later, on 8 January 2002.
[2] The defendant’s plea relied on the time-bar clause. The plaintiff’s
replication invoked the Constitution. He pleaded that the time-bar
1 Section 59(1) of the Short-Insurance Act 53 of 1998 provides that a claim against a Lloyd’s
underwriter under a South African short-term insurance policy shall be cognisable by a court in the
Republic, and s 59(2) that the Lloyd’s representative may be cited in the name of his office as nominal
defendant or respondent.
3
constituted a limitation period which was contrary to public interest
on the grounds that it afforded the insured an unreasonably short
period after repudiation to institute ac tion; it was a drastic provision
which infringed the common law right of an insured to invoke the
courts; it served no useful or legitimate purpose; and, in breach of s
34 of the Bill of Rights, it deprived the insured of his right to have a
justiciable dispute decided in a court of law.
[3] These facts are easy to state, sinc e the parties set them out in an
agreed statement of case to enable the high court, in a separation of
issues, to rule on the validity of the defendant’s reliance on the 90-
day time-bar. De Villiers J upheld the plaintiff’s contentions. He
found the time-bar unenforceable becaus e it conflicted with s 34 of
the Constitution:
Access to courts
Everyone has the right to have any di spute that can be resolved by the
application of law decided in a fair publ ic hearing before a court or, where
appropriate, another independent and impartial tribunal or forum.
4
[4] The learned judge found that the rights in s 34 applied not only
against the state, but horizontally in contractual relations between
private persons. 2 He reasoned that without the clause the plaintiff
would have had three years under the prescription legislation to
institute his action.
3 He considered that any limitation of this period
of itself required constitutional justification. In his view, s 34 grants a
contracting party a right of access to court in respect of any dispute
arising from the contract. By corollary, he ruled, the provision
imposes on the other party a duty no t to obstruct access to court.
Applying Mohlomi v Minister of Defence 1997 (1) SA 124 (CC) and
Moise v Greater Germiston Transitional Local Council 2001 (4) SA
2 Constitution s 8(2):
‘A provision of the Bill of Rights binds a natural or a juristic person if, and to the extent that, it is
applicable, taking into account the nature of the right and the nature of any duty imposed by the right.’
Constitution s 8(3):
‘When applying a provision of the Bill of Rights to a natural or juristic person in terms of subsection
(2), a court –
(a) in order to give effect to a right in the Bill, must apply, or if necessary develop, the common
law to the extent that legislation does not give effect to that right; and
(b) may develop rules of the common law to limit the right, provided the limitation is in
accordance with section 36(1).’
3 Prescription Act 68 of 1969, s 11:
‘The periods of prescription of debts shall be the following:
…
(d) save where an Act of Parliament provides otherwise, three years in respect of any other debt.’
5
491 (CC), he held that the right of access to court is foundational to
our society, and that (applying a limit ations analysis) the insurer had
failed to justify the 90-day time-bar on instituting action.
[5] This reasoning raises two questions. The first is the extent to which
Bill of Rights provisions apply between contracting parties. The
second is whether, if they do apply, s 34 renders the time-bar
unconstitutional.
Constitutional supervision of the creation and en forcement of
contractual rights
[6] The high court’s approach entailed the significant presupposition that
contractual terms are subject to constitutional rights. It is important
to emphasise that this general premise is correct. In Brisley v
Drotsky 2002 (4) SA 1 (SCA) paras 88-95, the essential principles of
which were endorsed in Afrox Healthcare Ltd v Strydom 2002 (6) SA
6
21 (SCA), this court affirmed that the common law of contract is
subject to the Constitution. This means that courts are obliged to
take fundamental constitutional va lues into account while performing
their duty to develop the law of contract in accordance with the
Constitution.
[7] Brisley rejected the notion that the Constitution and its value system
confer on judges a general jurisdiction to declare contracts invalid
because of what they perceive as unjust, or power to decide that
contractual terms cannot be enforced on the basis of imprecise
notions of good faith (para 93). Yet it re-asserted that (in addition to
proscribing fraud) the courts will in validate agreements offensive to
public policy, and will refuse to enforce agreements that seek to
achieve objects offensive to public policy. Crucially, in this calculus,
‘public policy’ now derives from the founding constitutional values of
7
human dignity, the achievement of equality and the advancement of
human rights and freedoms, non-racialism and non-sexism.
[8] Though this court in Afrox rejected a constitutional challenge to a
clause excluding liability for negligently caused in jury in a private
hospital’s contract of admission (to the dismay of many
commentators),4 it affirmed that inequalit y of bargaining power could
be a factor in striking down a contract on public policy and
constitutional grounds. The problem the court found was that ‘there
was no evidence whatsoever to indi cate that when the contract was
concluded [the plaintiff] was in fact in a weaker barg aining position’
than the hospital (para 12; my translation). In Johannesburg Country
Club v Stott 2004 (5) SA 511 (SCA) para 12, the majority considered
4 D Tladi ‘One step forward, two steps back for constitutionalising the common law: Afrox Healthcare
v Strydom’ (2002) 17 SAPL 473; K Hopkins ‘The influence of the Bill of Rights on the enforcement of
contracts’ De Rebus August 2003 p 22; J Lewis ‘Fairness in South African contract law’ (2003) 120
SALJ 330; C-J Pretorius ‘Individualism, collectivism and the limits of good faith’ 2003 (66) THRHR
638; R-M Jansen & B S Smith ‘Hospital disclaimers’ 2003 Journal for Juridical Science 28(2) 210; NJ
Grové ‘Die kontrakereg, altruisme, keusevryheid en die Grondwet’ (2003) 35 De Jure 134; L
Hawthorne ‘The end of bona fides’ (2003) 15 SA Merc LJ 271; L Hawthorne ‘Closing of the open
norms in the law of contract’ 2004 (67) THRHR 294; T Naudé and G Lubbe ‘Exemption clauses – a
rethink occasioned by Afrox Healthcare Bpk v Strydom’ (2005) 122 SALJ 441; D Bhana & M Pieterse
‘Towards a reconciliation of contract law and constitutional values: Brisley and Afrox revisited’,
forthcoming in (2006) 123 SALJ.
8
that contractual exclusion of liability for negligently caused death
could be unconstitutional.
[9] Afrox turned on the evidence present ed there, and here too we are
obliged to decide the constitutional challenge on the facts before us.
Those the parties’ lawyers captured for the purposes of the
proceedings in a terse statement of case (conveyed in para 2
above). That is the sole evidence before us. This has a two-fold
impact on the proceedings. First, the evidential basis from which we
can infer whether constitutional values have been impeached is
extremely slim.
[10] Thus, though the learned judge found that the contract’s time-bar
was unfair, this conclusion does not present as self-evident, and on
the evidence I cannot find any wa rrant for it. An insurer has an
undeniable interest in knowing with in a reasonable time after
repudiating a claim whether it must face litigation about it. Whether
9
90 days is reasonable for this purpose the evidence is simply too
meagre to allow us to assess. Al though the period is much shorter
than the statutory prescription pe riod of three years, the clause
certainly does not exclude the courts’ jurisdiction entirely. 5 And
details of the claim and of the in cident that caus ed it are usually
uniquely within the claimant’s knowledge (making a shorter time limit
easier to justify). Whether the period is in fact reasonable, and thus
whether the clause is ‘fair’, would depend, amongst other things, on
the number of claims the insurer ha s to deal with, how its claims
procedures work, what resources it has to investigate and process
claims, and on the amount of the p remium it exacts as a quid pro
quo for the cover it offers. Of all this, we know nothing.
[11] The second consequence of the limited evidence before us is that
the ambit of the plaintiff’s constitutional challenge to the term is very
5 For discussion of circumstances in which contractual clauses ousting the jurisdiction of the courts
may be against public policy, see RH Christie The Law of Contract (4ed, 2001) pp 405-407.
10
narrow. In argument before us plai ntiff’s counsel referred to the
constitutional values of dignity, equality and the advancement of
human rights and freedoms. But these provide no general all-
embracing touchstone for invalidating a contractual term.
[12] Nor does the fact that a term is unfair or may operate harshly by
itself lead to the conclusion that it offends against constitutional
principle. As explained in Brisley (para 94), the C onstitution prizes
dignity and autonomy, and in appropriate circumstances these
standards find expression in the liberty to regulate one’s life by freely
engaged contractual arrangements. Their importance should not be
under-estimated.
[13] As stated in Brisley (para 95), the Constitution requires us to
employ its values to achieve a balance that strikes down the
unacceptable excesses of ‘freedom of contract’, while seeking to
permit individuals the dignity and autonomy of regulating their own
11
lives. This is not to envisage an implausible contractual nirvana. It is
to respect the complexity of the value system the Constitution
creates. It is also to recogni se that intruding on apparently
voluntarily concluded arrangements is a step that judges should
countenance with care, particularly when it requires them to impose
their individual conceptions of fairness and justice on parties’
individual arrangements.
[14] It is relatively easy to see how the Constitution’s foundational
values of non-racialism and non-sexism 6 could lead to the
invalidation of a contractual term. Less immediately obvious is how
the values of human dignity, the achievement of equality and the
advancement of human rights and freedoms
7 may affect particular
contractual outcomes. But Brisley and Afrox and Stott opened the
door to precisely such determinations. As Afrox indicated, a factor of
6 Constitution s 1(b).
7 Constitution s 1(a).
12
particular importance is the parties’ relative bargaining positions, for
it is here that the constitutional values of equality and dignity may
prove decisive.
[15] In the present case, the eviden ce is so scant that we can only
speculate on the plaintiff’s bargaining position in relation to the
insurer. This is because there was no evidence regarding the
market in short-term insurance products; whether a variety of such
products is available; the number of suppliers, and their relative
market share; whether all or most short-term insurers impose a time-
bar;8 whether a diversity of time-limit s is available to those seeking
short-term insurance cover, and ov er what range they fall; whether
for a person in the plaintiff’s po sition (who travels in a vehicle
seemingly appurtenant to a reasonably affluent middle-class lifestyle)
8 Kevin Hopkins ‘Insurance policies and the Bill of Rights: Rethinking the sanctity of contract
paradigm’ (2002) 119 SALJ 155 suggests that ‘most short-term insurance policies contain time
limitation clauses that curtail the period within which legal action can be instituted’, but even if this
were accepted, it is less precise than factual determination would require.
13
short-term vehicle insurance is an optional convenience, or an
essential attribute of life.
[16] All this would bear on the critical question, which is whether the
plaintiff in effect was forced to cont ract with the insurer on terms that
infringed his constitutional rights to dignity and equality in a way that
requires this court to develop the common law of contract so as to
invalidate the term. But without an y inkling regarding the issues set
out above, the broader constitutional challenge cannot even get off
the ground. I therefore turn to the right of access to courts protected
by s 34, on the basis of which the high court invalidated the time-bar.
What does the right of access to courts protect?
[17] In considering the high court’s deci sion, it is useful to start with
Mohlomi and Moise. In Mohlomi, a member of the public sought to
recover damages for injuries alle gedly inflicted when a soldier
14
intentionally shot him. The Minist er of Defence pl eaded a statutory
time-bar9 that precluded claimants from instituting action if a period
of six months had elapsed since the cause of action arose. The
Constitutional Court (CC) held that rules limiting the time within
which litigation may be launched serve a valuable purpose in curbing
inordinate delays and the harmful conseq uences of procrastination,
but a limitation that leaves insuffici ent time to exercise the right of
access to court may be unconstit utional. The normal statutory
prescription periods were a yardstick by which the adequacy of the
time allowed could be judged. The cut-off in question was
conspicuously harsh, however, in –
‘a land where poverty and illiteracy abound and differ ences of culture and
language are pronounced, wher e such conditions isolat e people whom they
handicap from the mainstream of the la w, where most persons who have been
injured are either unaware of or poorly informed about their legal rights and what
they should do in order to enforce those, and where access to the professional
9 Defence Act 44 of 1957, s 113(1):
‘No civil action shall be capable of being instituted against the State or any person in respect of
anything done or omitted to be done in pursuance of this Act, if a period of six months … has elapsed
since the date on which the cause of action arose, and notice in writing of any such civil action and of
the cause thereof shall be given to the defendant one month at least before the commencement thereof.’
See now the Institution of Legal Proceedings against Certain Organs of State Act 40 of 2002.
15
advice and assistance they need so sorely is often difficult for financial or
geographical reasons.’ (para 14)
The CC held that the statutory time-bar could not be justified.
[18] Moise applied Mohlomi where a statute barred the institution of
legal proceedings against a local authority ‘unless the creditor has
within 90 days as from the day on which the debt became due,
served a written notice’ on the local authority. 10 No justification was
proffered for the provision (which the legislature was about to replace
with a six-month period). 11 The CC struck down the 90-day notice
requirement as unconstitutional.
[19] Like Mohlomi, Moise involved a claim for delictual damages arising
from personal injury. This fact prov ides the essential setting for both
decisions. Their rationale is that where a plaintiff has a pre-existing
right to legal redress – such as compensation for personal injury –
the legislator may not limit the right of access to court by super-
10 Limitation of Legal Proceedings (Provincial and Local Authorities) Act 94 of 1970, s 2(1)(a).
11 Institution of Legal Proceedings against Certain Organs of State Act 40 of 2002, s 3(2)(a). The Act
repealed Act 94 of 1970 with effect from 28 November 2002.
16
imposing an unreasonable time-bar or other unreasonable clog on
the institution of legal proceedings.
[20] The decisions presuppose that t he plaintiff has an existing right of
compensation or redress, but that a legislative time-bar unfairly
impedes it. In both cases, stat utory provisions imposed a general
bar on instituting action, without differentiating between plaintiffs or
causes of action. Neither decision dealt with contractually negotiated
time-limits. More specifically, the CC did not find that the state (or a
local authority) may not in a specif ic setting negotiate a time-bar for
enforcing rights created by contract. The focus, as Moise explained
(para 10), was ‘special statutory provisions’ that single out
proceedings against specific kinds of defendants (the state or local
authorities) and attach ‘ specific extraneous preconditions ’ to their
enforcement. The decisions do not mean that a right whose
17
enforcement requires the institution of proceedings within a specific
time can never be created, contractually negotiated or conferred.
[21] The plaintiff here had no pre-existing entitlement against the
insurer. The insurer did not in jure his person, damage his property
or violate his reputation or his dignity, nor did it commit any other
wrong against him. Outside the contract, it owed him no money.
Before the contract was concluded, it had no relationship with him at
all. It offered him insurance cover, which he agree d to take on
clearly specified terms. Those te rms defined the rights he derived
from the agreement by specifying that there would be no liability
unless summons were served within 90 days of repudiation of a
claim.
[22] The plaintiff’s claim arose because of a voluntary arrangement
with the insurer: one that entit led him, against payment of a
premium, to insurance in respect of his vehicle, on the conditions set
18
out in the policy. The insurer ’s defence therefore did not super-
impose a time-bar on a pre-existing entitlement: it arose from the
very agreement that defined the ambit of the right in creating it.12
[23] The approach the learned judge took implies that the plaintiff had
a pre-existing right to insurance, which the time-bar unfairly and
improperly impeded by requiring him to institute his claim within 90
days. That in my respectful view is wrong. The only right to
insurance the plaintiff enjoyed was the one he acquired from the
contract; and this required, as a prec ondition of its enforcement, that
he institute his claim within that period. Failing this, he acquired no
right at all. To afford him a diffe rent and larger right is to create a
contract for the parties to which neither agreed.
12 It follows that I am unable to endorse the approach underlying the discussion by Kevin Hopkins
‘Insurance policies and the Bill of Rights: Rethinking the sanctity of contract paradigm’ (2002) 119
SALJ 155, who suggests that ‘the limitation clause found in most short-term insurance policies amounts
to a waiver of the insured’s right of access to court’ and that ‘the enforcement of a limitation clause
would mean, in effect, the limitation of the insured’s constitutional right’ (at 172).
19
[24] To equate this case with those where the legislature has super-
imposed a statutory time-bar on otherwise enforceable rights
therefore improperly characterises t he right at issue, and omits to
recognise that the source of the time-bar is no t statutory but
contractual. This is not to sanctify contract. It is to recognise that
rights differ in their nature and in how they originate, and
consequently in how they are enforced and protected. The question
whether statutory abridgment of a ccess to court to enforce an
existing right is justifiable cannot be equated with the question
whether an apparently freely concluded contractual term is
constitutionally suspect. The Bill of Rights itself requires us to take
these distinctions into account.
20
[25] This case is thus not similar to Mohlomi and Moise , but to
Geldenhuys & Joubert v Van Wyk 2005 (2) SA 512 (SCA).13 There a
special time-bar applied to claims against the Road Accident Fund
that involved unidentified vehicles. In such cases, injured victims by
definition have no remedy, since they do not know and cannot trace
the wrongdoer who inflicted their injury. The legislation therefore
creates a right of recourse agai nst the Fund where no enforceable
right existed before; but limits the right at inception by requiring that it
be enforced within a shor tened time period. In Geldenhuys &
Joubert (paras 23-24) this court accordingly reje cted the argument
that the legislative time-limit unfairly restricts the claimant’s right,
since this misconceives its nature . The Fund is not a wrongdoer,
and the claimant is not its victim. In creating a previously non-
13 To similar effect is Paiges v Van Ryn Gold Mines Estate Ltd 1920 AD 600 at 617.
21
existent right of recourse, the Minister thus had power to require
claimants to submit claims within the shorter period.
[26] Similarly here. The high court’s implicit premise was that the
plaintiff had a pre-existing right to insurance. This led it wrongly to
impose on his contract with the insurer a protection that was not
designed for the parties’ situatio n at all. Section 34 does not
preclude the creation or conferral of rights subject to a time-limit for
their enforcement.
14 The focus of the right lies elsewhere. It is ‘an
express constitutional recognition of the importance of the fair
resolution of social conflict by im partial and independent institutions’,
which ‘requires not only that indi viduals should not be permitted to
resort to self-help, but also … that potentially divisive social conflicts
14 Compare, albeit in an entirely different context, Mkontwana v Mandela Metro Municipality 2005 (2)
BCLR 150 (CC) para 71 (‘Section 34 does not extend so far as to prevent the imposition of any
restriction on any right without the order of a court first having been obtained’) (Yacoob J).
22
must be resolved by courts, or by other independent and impartial
tribunals.’15
[27] The plaintiff’s right to insurance cover arose from his contract with
the defendant, which in creating his right stipulated at its inception
that a claim, to be enforceable, had to be instituted within 90 days of
repudiation. The access to courts pr ovision in the Bill of Rights does
not prohibit this.
[28] To summarise. On the evi dence before us, there is nothing to
suggest that the plaintiff did not conclude the contract with the
insurer freely and in the exercise of his constitutional rights to dignity,
equality and freedom. This leads to the conclusion that constitutional
norms and values cannot operate to invalidate the bargain he
concluded. That bargain contained at its heart a limitation of the
15 Zondi v MEC for Traditional and Local Government Affairs 2005 (3) SA 589 (CC) paras 61-63 per
Ngcobo J.
23
rights it conferred. T he defendant’s plea invokes that limitation, and
there is nothing before us to gainsay its defence.
[29] The appeal must therefore succeed and the defendant’s plea be
upheld. The order is as follows:
1. The appeal succeeds with cost s, including the costs of two
counsel.
2. The order of the court below is replaced with the following:
‘The defendant’s special plea is upheld with costs, including the
costs of two counsel.’
E CAMERON
J U D G E O F A P P E A L
CONCUR:
MPATI DP
VAN HEERDEN JA
MLAMBO JA
CACHALIA AJA