A Brave New World

This has been a week of a hive of political activity that this country has never seen before. Not even 1994 can rival or even come close to what we experienced this week, as a nation and as a country. You see, 1994 elections were about laying claim to citizenship, about voting against wrong and confirming the right and the almost saintly. This past week saw the emergence of a new movement and a consolidation of another – all this, without a discernable threat to the incumbent, the ANC.

What is more interesting to me than the events of the past week is how members of the media reacted to it. Allow me to share my quick glance through the some papers with you. First is Bra Fred.

The Bra in Bra Fred (for those who may not appreciate) has nothing to do with undergarment of the lacy kind. It is my sign of respect to the man, this he deserves hugely. Fred Khumalo is among the eminent of the men of letters, he has been around for a long time and by the look of things, he will be around for a while longer still. It is consequently with disappointment that I read one of his two contributions to the Sunday papers. Something along the lines of some A to Z of being Zulu (sic) and being cool.

Thanks to Bra Fred, white South Africans can now talk of women’s breasts in more than two languages; and they would also be able to attest to the Zulu men’s love for the breasts. White South Africans will also have learned that Zulu men prefer an all round bigger woman, with big behinds and big breasts. Have a read at this column. You may enjoy it, it may disturb you but it is there as it should be. I took a view that the piece is ill-considered and probably inappropriate at this time but that is only my view. What is important is that Bra Fred carries on his trade and through it, share his views and those of his people (the “we” that he refers to). Whatever my views, they should not detract from Bra Fred’s right to get it wrong as he often has.

Second is Zapiro. He too has his own A to Z of South African Socio-Politics. Let me state upfront that I have always held the view that Zapiro’s depiction of Jacob Zuma, regardless of his journalistic, satirical or artistic intentions, is disrespectful, crass and insulting. Zapiro does not have to agree with me, does not have to change his mind on my or anybody else’s say-so. Reading his latest cartoon, I could not help but feel that he is driven more by sour grapes than social commentary. That however, is only my view. One that is not intended to dissuade Zapiro from waging his campaign, both as a citizen and as a cartoonist. He may not have a right to be disrespectful, crass or insulting but it is not mine or anyone else’s right to teach him manners. Zapiro has a right to express himself within his own moral context, a right I endorse and trust he will always have. The fact that I often disagree with his take does not come into it and the fact that 67 percent of the South African voting public disregards his take should also not come into it.

Between these two social commentators there are others like Mr Donaldson who I no longer read. I find him unnecessarily abrasive which in my view gets in the way of whatever message he wishes to share. He too has a place albeit one he often uses to spew unpleasantries – in my view that is. There is also Mr Malala who is often on the money but sometimes just childish; like the day he suggested that Mr Zuma is afraid to come onto his show. The point is, the people Mr Zuma sought to speak to during the campaign do not necessarily watch Mr Malala’s show and it was no skin off Mr Zuma’s nose not to be on Mr Malala’s show. This too is just my view; one that does not make less of the role Mr Malala plays. Then there is Dr Mangcu: a sharp mind at the best of times but sometimes too much of “I told you so” kinda guy. I also wish he would learn more than he opines when it comes to matters of the law. Each one of these commentators and those that I have not mentioned in this post have a place and a role to play. We would sometimes agree with them and other times disagree but never should we seek to silence them.

South Africa stands to gain a great deal from debate and differences of opinion on all manner of issues. I worry about the tendency to name people or groups in an attempt to silence them and deny them a right to speak their mind and to differ with whomever on whatever. I also wish that issues could be debated on their merits and not on conjecture and irrelevancies. As a case in point: whatever ones position on the issue of Mr Zuma’s criminal charges; the one immutable fact is that neither he nor anyone else ever has an obligation to prove their innocence. It is for the state to prove their guilty. The failure of the state to do so, should not be placed at Mr Zuma’s door. Any impropriety must be dealt with factually and not through sloganeering. Similarly, in the rough and tumble world of politics Mr Zuma and his supporters must expect and should concede that political point scoring will persist.

This is a brave new world and fortune will favour the brave – as they say in the classics.

Congratulations!

Congratulations are indeed in order. I am happy that I decided to vote. As I watch the results come in and listen to the analysts make their educated deductions and predictions; I am happy that I am part of the process.

I congratulate the ANC for running a formidable campaign based on what is a clear understanding of their constituency. I had my doubts but those have now be put to bed. The ANC understands that which drives their constituency - hope. Hope for a better future, hope that their party will change their lives for the better. The ANC sold hope and the people bought it. Nothing else seemed to be of much concern. Whatever else the media and other detractors of the ANC said did not move the people, the people voted for the party they believe will deliver for them.

I congratulate the DA. They too seem to understand their own constituency. They too seem to understand that which drives their constituency - fear. The DA sold fear, fear of a 2/3rd majority of the ANC, fear of the threat to the rule of law, fear of kleptocracy and their constituency bought it regardless of all else. The DA constituency voted for the party they believe will deliver them from the evil of an ANC government.

I congratulate Cope. With very little time to prepare for the elections and with little else to offer but a proposition for change, Cope has made its presence felt. I cannot say that there is any particular understanding of its constituency on their part, moreso the understanding of the South African voting population. Cope sold change, it sold difference. The change and the difference was not well articulated; even so their constituency gave them a chance albeit in lesser than number than anticipated.

I congratulate the people of this country for going out and making their voices heard. I congratulate the people for bringing a new dawn. The last time there was so much enthusiasm about elections and the democratic process was back in 1994 when the people rallied around Nelson Mandela and made a break with the past.

I congratulate all the other parties for doing their bit however modest, for our democracy, our country, our future.

These are early days but one thing is certain, our democracy has triumphed. These elections have confirmed the right of each and every one of us to differ without being branded an enemy of the other; the right to choose in accordance with one's beliefs. These elections have to me demonstrated the importance of participating as opposed to spectating and complaining.

Now, in a few coming days Jacob Gedleyihlekisa Zuma will become the 4th president of the Republic of South Africa. He will preside over a democratically elected government, with a mandate from the people of this country to govern. He will appoint a cabinet in accordance with the powers vested on him by our constitution. A cabinet that will be empowered to execute on behalf of all the people of this country.

For that and barring all else, I congratulate and wish him well.

That's it, now I am going to vote!

Some time last year I decided that I am not going to vote in this year's elections. I also celebrated the fact that I am not a citizen of Australia. You see, down under, if you choose not to exercise your democratic right to pick which bunch you would like to abuse your loyalty, you are guilty of a crime, punishable by a fine. So, just because I could (well mainly because I could not decide which party to vote for) I decided that I am not going to vote and I am not even going to bother to register to vote (I moved provinces).

My dearest wife (bless her head and heart) insisted that I go register and if I still did not want to vote come election time, I am free to sit at home and watch democracy work - on television. With an interest in keeping my sleeping arrangements amicable, I went along with her and registered to vote. In addition to amicable (in fact better than amicable) sleeping arrangements, I am now able to change my mind and to vote, that is if I still feel that way come election day.

The source of my reluctance to vote in the forthcoming elections is as I stated, confusion. You know that state you find your self in when your mind seeks to override your heart's desire to strip all white people of their rights and possessions? That and only that was the reason I had decided some time last year that I was not going to vote. My confusion however, was caused by my ill-advised attempt at application of rational solutions to irrational problems. Allow me to explain:

You see, in the two previous occassions when I had been called on to do my civil duty and return the ANC to power, I had done so on a simple but irrational determination based on nothing other than the determination that this country must never again be run by white people. Call it racist if you will but this kept it straight and simple for me and off I went and voted for the government of the ANC.

This time I started or rather attempted a rational deliberation of my decision to vote for this or the other party. Of course some 95 percent of the parties standing for election were not even considered. I don't care what appellation I earn for it but I will not in a milllion and one years vote for anything led by Kenneth Meshoe or Rajbansi. I don't care what they say, I never listen and never will.

So I started to consider that which I know about the parties; that which my friends and family say about the parties; that which I find in the media (both print and electronic); that which I find on the internet; and so on and so forth. To illustrate: I learned that whatever spin anyone puts on it, the communists are in charge of the ANC; I learned that however hard Helen Zille screams non-racialism and democracy, she in fact means and can only mean protection of white values; I learned that Bantu Holomisa, Gatsha Buthelezi, Patricia De Lille, etc. all need a job and will do what they have to do. I learned that the image of the ANC is shot and pretty much in tatters. Now, I hope you are painfully aware of my situation. I am without a party to vote for so I cannot vote - at least that is the position I found myself in resulting in the decision not to vote or even to register to vote.

All of this was to come to an abrupt about face though. And it all happened this morning on my way to work. I was mindin my own business, listening to SAFM (half listening actually) when suddenly I heard a voice, a voice that has always caused rage to course my veins and hatred to replace what is ordinarily a fairly balanced humane constitution. I heard the voice of FREDERICK WILLEM DE KLERK. Yes him! The at-one-stage-almost-professor-of-administrative-law-at-Potchefstroomse-Universiteit-Vir-Christelike-Hoer-Onderwys. Yes him! The one time minister of education who said only a limited number of kaffirs permitted on this, that and the other university - and for those other universities, only kaffirs. Yes him.

I heard FREDERICK WILLEM DE KLERK say that we must protect the constitution, that Zuma must not do anything to damage the constitution, must not create unlawful hegemony, must stop the unlawful deployment of cadres. I waited for him to add "like we nationalists did . . ." and he never did. I went into a rage.

There and then, during that irrational rage I decided: fuck it, I'm going to vote and yes I am going to get me a government I deserve!

Just in case you were wondering what just happened

Advocate Mokoted Mpshe (shame Helen Zille had such a torrid time trying to say the surname and keep a straight face - wait her face is straight, anyway) is the acting National Director of Public Prosecution; his predecessor having been removed by (a sort of acting) President Motlanthe (another name Helen Zille struggles with) for not being fit to hold the office of the National Director of Public Prosecutions.

By all accounts the job of an NDPP is clearly a tough one but also one that is very important, which may suggest that we should have our brightest and bravest on point. It is so important it is created and regulated by an Act of Parliament. Now, in terms of this Act South Africa has one prosecution authority headed by the NDPP. All prosecutions from Orania to Soweto, are carried out under the authority of the NDPP through the delegates of the NDPP. Well that is the way I think it is anyways, Orania court may be a bit of a stretch but we will consider that in a future post.

In carrying out his job the NDPP decides all manner of things including whether to prosecute or not to prosecute. This decision is made by the prosecution authority daily in various courts of this vast country. The prosecution authority normally considers the charge, the facts gathered by the investigating officer, the evidence available and the availability of witnesses. Taking all of these together, the prosecution authority may decline to prosecute or may (as it does more often than not) decide to continue with the prosecution.

Normally, the prosecution authority will decline to prosecute because in its view the case cannot be prosecuted successfully. Like the day I was stopped by the coppers on my way back from a bachelor party. I was pulled over on suspicion of driving under the influence - at least that is what I was told by the police. The police then got into an argument about who was going to drive my car and who was going to take me for blood tests. This took so long, I fell asleep in the back of the police van, I think. I woke up in the cell, spend the night in the cell (or was it the morning?). The next day around mid-day, I was taken out of the holding cells at court and told to go home because the control prosecutor is not going to prosecute. Apparently there was something to do with the blood tests. As I said this whole "decline to prosecute" thing is quite normal.

Another normal occurence in the criminal justice system is the making of representation to the prosecution authority with the view of persuading the authority not to prosecute a case. Accused persons exercise this power all the time - mostly unsuccessfully.

Now what stopped Advocate Mpshe from just saying: "having considered the representations made on behalf of the accused, we are of the view that the matter cannot be successfully prosecuted and therefore we decline to prosecute". Well it simply would have been untrue. As untrue as the matters that he took into consideration in coming to his conclusion to decline to prosecute are irrelevant. What are we to make of all this?

Advocate Mpshe has either misconducted himself in relation to his duties as the NDPP or is not fit to hold the office of the NDPP. Either way, the president of the republic should remove him from that office. I would just like to know that when next I make representations to the prosecution authority, the authority will apply the correct test and consider matters that are relevant to the decision in question.

This, like the matter of the Judicial Services Commission and Judge Hlophe achieves nothing but to weaken our justice system. The only place all South Africans should be confident they will be treated fairly. The only place where each South African should be safe.

That among others is what I believe happened . . .

1994

The year you may have thought that you are voting for Nelson Mandela when in fact you were voting for the ANC. You remember them? Those scary people who planted bombs and told the children to make the country ungovernable - yes, them.

The year you may have thought that your dignity will be given back to you; your humaneness be recognised. The year you may have thought that things will change for you. That you too will participate in the toil and wealth of your country. That your employer will no longer treat you like dirt.

That is the year that comrades were rewarded for their contribution to the struggle. The year the oppressors mutated into co-governors. The year the people were left without their land and their dignity.

That year was always going to be the beginning of a long and arduous journey. But first there was to be a transition. First the previously privileged had to be assured that they will not be butchered or their property taken from them. The year the people were told to be patient and to wait.

It is 2009 and the people still believe that the movement will restore their land and dignity. They still believe in the movement because they resent all others that much more. This is the year the people will once again vote their party of choice into power. The power to give them back their land - their dignity.

In 2014 the people will look back on 2009 as they did on 1994 - with nothing but hope, to show for their vote. The white and the privileged will still be white and privileged. The poor, the black and the marginalised; will still be poor, black and marginalised.

That dear friends is the way of the world - the rest just keeps the commentators occupied, helps to sell the newspapers and provide fire-side conversation.

With that - may the forces that regulate the movement of the stars, the forces that regulate the menstrual cycle, the forces that pre-dates you and the movement, keep you.

Your anger and disappointment over recent events is nothing but self-serving - your elation over the same events sadly unwarranted.

The Politics of our Violence

I grew up in the midst of violence and I do not think that it is in any way an exaggeration. I grew up in the company of violence, most of it almost always directed at and suffered by the weak and the marginalised.

Vimba! (pronounced veem-ber) Thiba! (pronounced tea-ber) both meaning stop. Ok, some context: a stray dog is running away from a group of boys who for no other reason than that it is a stray helpless dog, want to kill it or inflict harm on it. They are throwing stones and other objects at the obviously terrified creature which is literally running for dear life. The boys are shouting Thiba! or Vimba! depending whether you are in Mareetsane (some township in the North-West) or Dube (some part of Soweto). The blood-thirsty shouts bring out more boys from their homes – they drop whatever they were doing and they join in the chase, the kill. The dog hardly ever makes it. Between the marauding boys and the unruly township traffic, what are the chances for the poor thing?

When the violence was not directed at stray dogs, it was invariably directed at the weaker boys, the different boys, the marginalised boys, the boys who for some reason did not get off on the violence. Humans have in my life been chased like that stray dog. They would be chased, stoned and when caught, beat to death or burned alive. This would be another human being but it would be okay to kill him because he belonged to a different clan, a different political party, he was a cop, an impimpi – that made it alright. The most recent of this phenomenon was portrayed in the papers as “the burning man”. He apparently was a foreigner, among his other sins.

I spent and continue to spend a lot of time trying to understand violence regardless of the context. I am a coward with a very low pain threshold so I often wonder about the guys who do not seem to mind pain on themselves or on others, especially on others. The 1980’s were therefore the most traumatic period of my growing up. This is the time that violence would not just walk on by or nod in my direction; this is the time when violence often stopped to chat. These interactions were always devastating to me – the memories continue to haunt me.

Student activists in a small community in a middle of nowhere have a dispute. A territorial dispute! One of the student organisation is primarily made up of and led by girls –very outspoken and clever girls. The dispute is apparently that the girls are canvassing for support of their organisation by bad-mouthing the other organisation. You will recall that both organisations were in the business of liberating the country from the tyranny of apartheid. Both organisations existed for no other reason but to liberate their people. A meeting of the wronged organisation was called – the meeting resolved that the leaders must go meet these girls and talk sense into them, otherwise . . .

And so the meeting was arranged between the leaders of the two student organisations. This meeting degenerated into a shouting match. The girls were blamed for the degeneration of the meeting. This is a small community in the middle of nowhere. Now that the girls would not be told what to do nor how to do it, a further meeting is called and then at this latter meeting a proposal is made that the girls be beaten up to teach them a lesson, after-all these girls would not listen to reason. Then things take an interesting turn.

The leader of the organisation says that this is not the way liberators of people should conduct themselves. He suggests that there are many alternatives to violence and he lists some examples. He is passionately arguing his case for non-violence when he is told to put the whole thing to a vote. Ok, all those who want to go beat up girls say Yay! The vote is overwhelmingly in favour of violence. The leader explains that he cannot support the decision. He says that the organisation will have to find another leader because he is resigning. He is told to voetsek and a replacement is promptly voted into office.

That Friday night the girls were attacked while they were sleeping. The attack was not particularly brutal as it apparently was only meant to scare the girls. But this is a small community in the middle of nowhere. It is pitch dark. Girls run (for dear live and chastity) this is when they run into all manner of objects that cut and hurt them. They ran into trees, they sprained ankles stepping into holes in the ground, pieces of metal sheets cut their bare feet; they got hurt and were terrified. After the girls were dealt with, a short meeting considered whether to deal with the traitor ex-leader as well. For unknown reason he was left unharmed.

Last week I hear that university students killed and maimed each other for reasons of political affiliation. I can almost hear a replay of 1985 in my head.

It is the violence of our politics.