Breaking Bulk

Listening to varied, even contradictory statements, by ANC officials about why they felt it necessary to recall the president of the republic, Thabo Mbeki, before his term expired next year, one is reminded of the imperative of moral psychology: Feelings come first and tilt the mental playing field on which reasons and arguments compete. In simple terms, this means when one wants to reach a certain conclusion, they can usually find a way to do so.

The Secretary General of the ANC, Gwede Mantashe, admitted in the Morning Live program on Monday that in order to unify the party they had to make the decision, so that all ANC members may start rallying after the current president of the party. It is unfortunate that the president of the ANC himself continues to insult the intelligence of the general public by denying that factionalism exists inside the ANC. The reasoning behind these varied voices within the ANC leadership betrays the fact that the decision to recall Mbeki was an emotional one, done to satisfy vindictive revenge by those whom he crossed lines with during his reign. In truth, from a distance at least, the whole thing appears more like a tragic comedy of errors akin to Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

The lesson Shakespeare wanted to teach in the play Macbeth is the inexorable and inescapable vindictive power of the moral universe, and the folly of revenge. That whatever means you take to achieve your ends will come back to haunt or vindicate you in the end. Former President Mbeki got a stark reminder of that at Polokwane. And now Jacob Zuma, clearly not in control of the party he leads, is starting to realize he might burn by the same fire that ushered him in Polokwane. The mobile vulgus are indisputable in control, and he has no means to turn the tide. There’s a sense of political anarchy, dislocation, disorientation, compulsion, pre-emptive grovelling and manipulative scare mongering he does not know how to deal within the Tripartite Alliance.

It might be, for the ANC membership, that all this is done to (speciously) recover the unity of the party, but from where we’re standing on the ground, it looks like the present administration of the ANC and its echelons are ‘breaking bulk’ (Remember that term from the English revolution of the seventeen century describing when the majority in a ship decide to loot the captured ship, and distribute among themselves the wealth without waiting for proper authority).

Talk about English revolution, ever notice how akin our situation is to them? Remember how the return of the new king, Charles II, spelt that ‘all good men and good things,’—as Samuel Pepys pithily put it—were discouraged. Doesn’t it feel like that in our country now? To top the similarities, Charles II was fond of French dances, which grated the gentlemanly class the wrong way. During the revolution, everything was subject to the caprices of the elite. Heads rolled, rich rewards were reaped; opponents of the previous government were got ridden of; key positions filled with supporters of the king as reward to their good behaviour. The astute changed with times and circumstances; drank and danced to the king’s health on their knees, negotiating their tricky change of coats with finesse. Everyone had to identify for themselves what compromises or betrayals they were prepared to take; policies were no longer pointers for anything. Terminal confusion settled in all things, and the only alliance politicians respected were to their wallets. Meanness and deviousness acquired the Machiavellian streak.

It was no time for those attached to elegance and gentlemanly pursuits. Things acquired a ghoulish streak. Heroes of yesteryear were beheaded, and for six pence you could watch their headless body at Westminster Hall. Political violence returned to the streets, and shops pulled down their shutters. Cynicism and opportunism became the order of the day. The people, simmering in resentment, bewildered and exhausted by never ending political conflict turned their backs to politics, and were the worst losers for it. Of course things didn’t go that far for us, and there signs they are getting better.

In his first national address to the nation President Montlanthe thanked the nation for its resilience and patience, saying it is in times like this our true character shines through. Me thinks the true character of the nation would be revealed during the coming elections next year. For far too long the ANC has taken the support of the South African public for granted. I’ve a feeling things will change, change utterly in the coming elections.
Meanwhile all we can do is to keep silent, watching these powerful and organised lobbies, compete in complete disregard for public sentiments. We continue in the path of justice, peace, human dignity and development in these uncertain times; but time hath my lord, a wallet at his back; our time will be on the ballot box where will opportunity of giving our alliance to the founding and developing truths of our Constitution. That is the only thing that must prevail over political fads; and, perchance, tame the murdering cry and the comedy of errors.

Absolutely Gutted

My Umfriend (friend with benefits) told me Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love, has lot of sex, which is what got me interested and dispelled my suspicion against icky self-enhancement book I suspected it to be, after it was featured in the Oprah Show. Well, sex, there is, but a topsy-turvy kind of sex; the kind that’s supposed to teach you about yourself towards your spiritual and . . . you get my drift.

If you thought it was only guys who go gallivanting, meeting strange people, some of whom they have free sex with—for spiritual and culinary purposes—you are in for a surprise? Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love will help you collide with your prudishness, and give you the creeps, or even crabs, in the process. If, like me, you’re of an idea that feminism liberated women from undesirable trappings of male chauvinism, think again. Or if you thought women can only have sex where there are pretentious emotional connection, I repeat, think again; you are in for a surprise.

The best-selling American trans-global travel narrative, Eat, Pray, Love feels like something written by rutty Ernest Hemingway on spiritual repentance. It is full of adventure and sex, peppered with confetti of spiritual clichés. We guys like to pretend we believe in free, no commitment sex, but actually what we mean about that is we’re okay with Sartrean communal sex, or JZ (Jacob Zuma) seraglio for ourselves, but wince when we read of Simone Beauvoir's polygamous sexual love—I wonder how JZ would feel if one of his wives was to take on an extra husband, provided they can support him that is as the Zulu custom requires.

Eat, Pray, Love is a catalogue of blissful promiscuity, fluent in the argot of "Sex and the City". I don't know how other guys feel, but Sex and the City made me restless whenever I watched it with a woman, which was very telling. Those damned chicks were just too free and independent about everything for my macho liking. When I was with the guys though it was different; we castigated their loose morals with one eye hoping they'd be free with us. I suspect the unvarnished truth is that we prefer that mama dishes her something-something for daddy alone.

I read most of Eat, Pray, Love on commute train between Khayelisha and Cape Town, with a background of cacophony of voices that’s not very conducive to reading and contemplation. If it’s not someone trying to sell you something, its hedge-preachers—comfortable in their contradictions, and insinuative.

Four stops down from where abode the train, at Mandalay, usually comes a lady I flatter myself into thinking she fences me. She’s okay as far as the ID—looks—is concerned, but boy, can she talk? If it’s not some haute couture topic it is something about her good-for-nothing brother ‘whose gonna send my mother into an early grave.’ The worse part she’s started repetiting her, which means she’s run out things to say, but she won’t shuddup.

I can no longer recall what our spurious intimacy is based on. If it were not for the fact that I get on the train first I would do my level best to avoid a coach she’s on like a contagious disease. But for some reason I always see her at the last minute as she’s homing in straight to me. The sight of her face always kicks in razor blade panic and ventral turmoil within me. The funny thing is that she’s a dainty beautiful thing. I’d go for her at no notice had I not had the misfortune of being gutted by her conversations.

I’ve ran out of ideas to avoid here. With petrol still hovering around R10 a litre, looks like I’m going to be stuck with her for a very long time; driving is no longer an option but a luxury. But it has become intolerably exhausting maintaining my permanent smiles as my mind chases after the oblivion over fields of shanty rotting iron and polythene bags of Cape Flats, trying very hard not listening to her. One day she was going on as usual, pattering about this and that. Meantime I wanted to finish the last chapter of Eat, Pray, Love when it hit me. There’s something very similar to both these women. They make for lousy travelling companion. For one they talk too much; are glib and covertly sensationalist. Their personalities turn me off.

Methinks discretion, especially in a lady, is a virtue, which is why, perhaps, I didn’t like Eat, Pray, Love that much. I can see why it would appeal to Oprah fans; it’s one of those two-dimensional books with lots of air and not very much depth. I think T.S. Eliot called such things an art of the surface. It has passionate, hardboiled style of Sex and the city filtered, rather funneled, as clinical aüβerliche kitsch. The book is not really original but has defiant freshness in how it collapses patriarch hypocrisy. Gilbert is an artist of poor discrimination and rude vitality, which, I suppose, explains why her book is successful in our era.

If chance will have me king, why chance may crown me without my stir

I spent last Saturday, like most South Africans, watching the political occurrences of ANC’s recall of the president of the republic with growing forebodings. Whomever asked me for my opinion I pointed to the article I wrote in April here on my blog.
Under normal circumstances I’m averse to quoting my own writings, but these are not normal times:

The lesson Shakespeare wanted to teach in the play Macbeth is the inexorable and inescapable vindictive power of the moral universe [and the folly of revenge]. That whatever means you take to achieve your ends will come back to haunt or vindicate you in the end. Our present [outgoing] president might be a stark reminder of that .
Lady Macbeth, while still convincing her husband to murder the irreprehensible King Duncan, accuses him of wanting to win without dirtying his hands. She says he’s not without ambition, but lacks the “illness should attend it ... that he would not play false, and yet would wrongly win.” Macbeth’s conscience is still healthy then as he replies in a monologue:
I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself
And falls on the other. . .

Let’s look at this in the light of our country and times, especially since ruling’s party’s last conference. The greenflies have it that a certain gentleman, who is now the vice president of the ANC has been responsible for the bad karma between their out going president and the present. It is also rumoured that at the first meeting of the ruling party’s newly elected NEC the blood was so heated their president had to be assuaged for more than twenty minutes after walking out of the meeting accusing the delegates of planning to get rid of him through his coming trial.

It turns out also that there are people in the higher echelons of the ruling party who want to win without playing false in the public eye. It’s rumoured that Lady Macbeth occupies the Parliamentary Speaker seat, and that she eggs and fire the passion of the present [ANC] deputy president to overcome his repugnance for the end to justify the means: Thou'dst have, great Glamis, / That which cries "Thus thou must do if thou have it; / And that which rather thou dost fear to do / Than wishest should be undone." Hie thee hither, / That I may pour my spirits in thine ear / And chastise with the valor of my tongue / All that impedes thee from the golden round / Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem / To have thee crowned withal.

Lady Macbeth is here saying Macbeth fears to do what must be done, even though he would not wish it undone, if it were done. I hope our Macbeth has enough sense to quote and stick to the words of sober Macbeth: "If chance will have me king, why chance may crown me without my stir."

It might just seemed like speculation and conjecture then, but now, with what is happening recently in the ANC political circles, that the signs are getting clearer everyday? The deputy president of the ANC, Kgalema Montlanthe, is soon to be the acting president until next year elections. The sublimity of Shakespeare is perennial. The ANC leaders say they’re doing this to recover the unity of the party but you and I know they are ‘breaking bulk’. Remember that term from the English revolution of the seventeen century when the majority in a ship decide to loot and distribute among themselves captured wealth.

Overcoming the grasping self

When our usually jocular Minister of Finance, Trevor Manuel, puts aside entertaining panache and attention-grabbing hype you know all is not well and rosy. He intimidated as much when delivering the 9th Steve Biko Memorial lecture at University of Cape Town. “This lecture takes place at a time when, as a country, we are going through some trying growth pains; together we are searching for inspiration, seeking guidance and yearning for leadership. Our country is undergoing a complex and sometimes painful examination of its foundations, its values and its institutions. It is at times such as this that a nation has to dig deep within itself, take careful observations and focus on repairing its soul.”

Inspiration, aplenty, he found on the writings and works of Steve Biko. The gist of his lecture was the need to give the poor material support to develop their lives. The minister touched the core of our present predicament when he mentioned need to look at people’s responsiveness to democratic empowerment and freedom. He seemed to have rightly come into conclusion that the most important challenges for our government and public institutions are now internal; involving ethics and “values [that] must have at their core, the principles of people-centred development, of freedom, of conscientisation of mobilisation and of high energy democracy.”

There’s duty to foster intelligence as a moral obligation needed to counteract the leadership dearth in the global politics of our era. We need the infusion of public and personal morality in our democratic and aspirations of freedom. Public morality is interlocking value system, practices, institutions, and psychological mechanisms that work together to suppress or regulate selfishness, and make social life possible. I trust we all know what is meant by personal morality, which can be summed in one word; virtue. We need also to re-learn principles that bind us together, not only as groups of certain vested interest, but as humans concerned with human dignity. Supporting essential institutions of democracy is well and good, but we have an added responsibility of being our brother’s keeper, especially the familiar faces of indigence and strife in our own backyards (rural and township areas) we’ve grown numb against.

The problem of development cannot readily be remedied alone by finance and educators, judges, soldiers, policemen, and other professionals that necessarily make for the modern idea of successful society. There are other problems that make for inertia against our development, like inherent attitudes and values, which sometimes often even define communities’ very identity. Hence Biko was more concerned with the ‘psychology and consciousness of the oppressed.’

Commitment to self-reliance in what minister Manuel calls ‘social compact’ must be reemphasized. Not only the ‘oppressed’ need a psychological re-consciousness, but the oppressor too. And this was always Nelson Mandela’s concern, which lately has been relegated aside for another important message of his, that of reconciliation. We need to learn that a majority of people in this country were not simply segregated; they were methodically disenfranchised, stripped of their dignity and identity. Until that has been restored nothing will ever be normal in this country.

Minister Manuel concluded; ‘let me repeat the lesson that Biko taught us. Democracy is something to fight for, constantly. Development is not something handed out at the welfare office. It is a conscious process of building capabilities, giving communities power to change their lives, empowering young women and men to make a contribution to our beautiful country. At the root of Biko’s teachings and the thread that runs through the references from Marx and Unger is the concept of consciousness, the deep understanding of the self worth of people and the power of communities. The poor must be given the power to change their lives . . . An energised democracy is one where each element, business, labour, government and communities balance their rights with their responsibilities. This moment could define our collective future. Let us utilise it for a national catharsis. Let us work together as advised by Unger who writes, “Social solidarity must rest (instead) on the sole secure basis it can have: direct responsibility of people for one another. Such responsibility can be realized through the principle that every able-bodied adult holds a position within a caring economy – the part of the economy in which people care for one another – as well as within the production system.”’

As Allen Tate put it, "the full language of the human situation can be the vehicle of truth." Our recent situation has brought the truth of who we are glaringly before our eyes without screeds of false nostalgia. Who we become yet is still in our power to choose, but not for long. We have not attained the hallmark of Martin Luther King Jr. dreamed, when he hoped a day would come when men and women were judged not by the colour of their skin, but instead by their individual deeds and actions, and the content of their character? There’s still too much baggage in our historical backs to get rid of, but we must take the initiative and reclaim the momentum of the Mandela years, with less superficial notions this time.

We need to face our history square on, albeit in a manner more conversant with the language of human values and respect for the dignity and expressive capacity of the human ¬spirit. We need to understand more fully what it means to be human, and to permit that knowledge to shape and nourish the way we ¬live. To respect each other’s rights; be concerned and work for each other’s welfare. We need to make our democracy and freedom a little more than triumph of commerce and the victory of materialism, which would make us nothing more than what is usually referred to as ‘a nation of shoppers’. In the end what is important as foundation to social institutions are internal values that overcome the lower, grasping, carnal self; i.e. self-control over greed, duty over rights, and loyalty to values of humanity over concerns for outgroups. That’s the message I took from Minister Manuel’s lecture.

The Jacob Zuma Debacle

The JZ (Jacob Zuma) debacle has caused a lot of hurly-burly about fears of the ruling party riding rough-shod over the constitution of the country to save the ANC president from prosecution for corruption charges. It has fostered different views from different people for various reasons. For instance, Hellen Zille—the leader of DA and mayor of Cape Town—in a talk she gave at Wits School of Law in July, was of the opinion that the ANC is divided amongst 'verligtes' (the enlightened, who wants reform) and the 'verkramptes' (who wants to continue the modus operand of Liberation Movement) 'Broedertwis' she said, divides the ranks of the ANC like the old National Party towards the end of its rule.



Madam Zille further conjectured that there were constitutionalists within the ANC who've more in common with the DA than they do with the anti-constitutionalists (read Zuma supporters) in their own party who are power hungry and prepared to do anything to achieve their goals. One understands the bases of the fears for eccentric repeal of the constitution, but to project these concerns as if they were reality is paranoia. The constitution bent twig snaps back in the face of those who use to foster scare mongering tactics. It is rather fresh to hear people who are prepared to change the constitution when it suites their purposes and inclinations, like the case of death penalty, suddenly take the sacrosanct stance towards the constitution. We need to learn, in the words of Barack Obama, not "to simplify and stereotype and amplify the negative to the point that it distorts reality."



Madam Zille says the ANC, through the revolutionary movement ethos, is failing to achieve the next step of development, which she calls the limitation to its power to promote constitutionalism. This deliberate misuse of facts is worrying. Has the ANC, despite gaining the majority that legally allowed it to change the constitution, elected to exercise that right? I'm not promulgating that majority rule must mean the creation of a one party government with unlimited powers that overrides general laws for a specific purpose of party politics. But a majority rule does mean the ruling party is allowed to design 'outcome-based' laws with specific purposes or remedy in mind when the occasion arises. France and Italy have recently done it to protect their leaders, and we didn't here any large outcry about it.



There's a tendency in this country of projecting the constitution as a sacrosanct tablet revealed to the enlightened few at Mt Sinai, and not the product of reflection by the people for guidance towards the protection of people's freedom. Alexander Hamilton, in his book, the Federalist, set out to explain what the Constitution of 1787 in his country was all about: "To decide the important question, whether societies of men are really capable or not of establishing good government from reflection and choice, or whether they are forever destined to depend for their political constitutions on accident and force." Reflection and choice are the operative words here. The constitution, for it serve meaningful purpose, must serve the needs that promote the stability of the republic.



Indeed, had JZ been a man of sterling integrity and responsibility he who would not have qualms taking the nation into confidence by doing one or two things, rather than this waste of taxpayer's money in protracted legal evasiveness. He could say; 'Yes, I've been involved in some very bad judgements through the influence of my financial advisers. For that I beg your pardon, and ask that the country give me second chance to pay back the debt I owe it.' Then those in government would have to devise means to pardon him in honouring the clear wishes of the majority. Or, if he's convinced of his innocence, he must not make himself available for the presidency of the republic until he clears his name. And now that he has won yet another historic battle in court, are we ready to let him govern?



With the risk of sounding sententious, JZ is a man of serious faults; weakened by moral short-comings and corruption shenanigans due to his indiscriminate associate with shady characters. But the majority within the Tripartite Alliance seem to want him as their president. The rest of us, if we respect majority rule, have no choice but to accept that. Naturally, there'd be those who'd say that would be giving in to political blackmail by JZ cabals. So what? What else is new in politics? We've been blackmailed by the National Party's army generals into establishing means of pardon for the nefarious deeds of the apartheid security forces and we caved in, for the stability of the country. We're blackmailed by different groups for different reasons all the time; if not threatening to take their skills and money outside it's another thing. And we give in, for the sake of the country.



As for what madam Zille wishes that "We have to bring party formations in line with the new reality, the real political divisions of our time. The biggest barrier to this process is the democrats in the ANC who believe their party is redeemable. It is not." No! The biggest barrier is the politics of grovelling within opposition parties, and the attitude of cynical self-involved pessimism of a South African liberal mind. The political realities of this country rest deeply on socio-economic factors. For one, the majority of the constitutionalists within the ANC are social democrats who do not believe in radical liberation of economics without meaningful state regulation. What madam Zille and her cabals do not see is what is about to happen in this country. French historians call it, le passage à l'acte; the moment when a recently free society passes into revolutionary violence. The confluence of negative forces, like post-oppression trauma, poverty and Frantz Fanon's 'motherless rage' are already precipitating it.



Still, no matter how gloomy the situation maybe, it is nothing compared to the mostly torturous, even murderous, complex course other countries, especially in Western history, had to undergo to achieve transformation to proper democratic states. Yes, now is a difficult time of introspection, even disenchantment in our country. Yes, the vulgar element breeds political weariness and disappointment. But I've a feeling this country will gain instead by going through this experience. The ruling party, with all it faults, is facing things head on, which is more than can be said about other parties who think dwelling on ivory towers, waiting for the 'barbarians' to gain insight into the 'enlightened' liberal point of view is the way to go.

The sooner we let Zuma govern the better it be for all of us.

Smoke and Mirrors

I was seated on the couch, trying unique ways and fresh angles to write about Women’s Day we celebrated on the 9th August. I thought of writing about the usual stuff; empowerment of women and all, but decided against it. Something that kept nagging my mind is how we live in real contradiction to our ideals. I mean everybody seem to agree that uxorial husbands are an ideal; equal representation for women is ideal; and responsible, if not doting, parents are ideal. Yet we live the opposite of these things, more like doppelgängers of what’s best in us.

Then I came a picture of a beautiful near-naked female body on a foreign magazine. She wore nothing but a bra, and hid her pelvic area, which I took to imply vagina, with a designer hand bag that she was advertising. Her eyes were cut from the picture. I thought they think of everything, because, surely, to use as a commodity a thing like sex (its not sensuality), you’ve to hide your eyes, from your soul. It was titled; Lesson 84: lead him to temptation. Is that what women’s liberation has amounted to, I found myself asking?

I was lost in such thoughts when my daughter, who’s nine, surprised me with a demand for a long mirror for her room—I must reveal, for proper understanding, that the advert was posed as though it was a mirror image. I was not sure what brought that about but could sense trouble in the offing. What’s wrong with the ones you have, I asked, trying to sound casual. I can’t see whole of myself on them, was her answer as she disappeared to her room again. She left me in confused contemplation. I stood to spy what she was up to and found her sitting in bed, combing Ami (her favourite doll). I turned back with my confusion intensified.

I’ve lived with my daughter since she was nine months old. My sisters, whom we visit frequently, make up for the female influence she needs in her life. I suppose, to be fair, not having long mirrors must be a serious drag for growing girls. On the other side I wondered why didn’t I have long mirrors, dressing table mirrors, and such things one finds on modern homes these days. Do I not like looking at myself? I recalled how uncomfortable I feel when I see my reflection on shop windows when walking city pavements—they make me seem humped. The scientific explanation of refractions and all does not help my archaic sense of self, which, I suppose, is still operating on cave man instinct embodied deep in my genetic code.

The only time I really look at myself on the mirror, since you asked, is when I go to the bathroom at parties or nightclubs, to measure how soused am I. That’s just about it, if shaving does not count. I don’t look at myself when I comb, not that I’m less narcissist than your average, less say GQ guy. It’s a practice forced in me by Catholic boarding school indigent upbringing. I suppose there’s also a bit of delusion of grandeur in supposing physical reflection is not as important as inner self-reflection. I much prefer the ‘know thy self’ and the rest of now unfashionable philhellene heebie-jeebies.

Before the mirror incident, I was sure my daughter was growing along my trends—choosing soccer at school, sleeping with miniature Ferraris next to her dolls—you know, things that make daddy-mom proud. Now it looks like I might have overestimated my influence on her. Now I notice her stopping over cosmetic section and feel, in my guts, trouble approaching. Of course there’s a possibility I’m just blowing the whole thing out of proportion. Somebody please say I’m blowing it out of proportion! Meantime I’m looking for a mirror, preferable with a pink frame; long enough to cover the height of a nine year old until she’s at least eighteen.

For those of you wondering why I’m not married at the good side of forty. Here’s the thing. When I was in Std 6, now Grade 8; we read a book where a guy chopped his wife and two children (who were actually his father’s but was suppose to acknowledge as his according to the Xhosa custom of those times) with an axe. When asked why, he kept saying: Buzani kuBawo! [Ask my father!]. I’ve never really recovered from that tragic story. I feel abused. You can tell Oprah that. I’m prepared to produce on-demand-screen saccharine tears to puff my pillow. I’ll even write a memoir of aggrievement if she promises to feature it on her show.

Charity Begins at Home

One of the criticism that was directed against president T. Mbeki was that he concentrated power in the office of the presidency and orientated everything to his personality. We were told there was urgent need to strengthen local-government if our democracy had any hope of success. The ANC (African National Congress) conference in December 2007 at Polokwane took the initiative by voting T.Mbeki out as ANC president through the concerted efforts of party branch structures. Most of us were hopeful coming from that conference that things were turning for the best. Perhaps we should have been more circumspect where we saw the manner of the so called democratic process in Polokwane, which was more manipulations by organised factions within branch level of the ANC than anything else. Collectivism is not always democracy.

After Polokwane the ANC Members of Parliament seemed to breathe fresh air, voicing their views vigorously, pushing the margins of their party towards a more consultative and democratic process to guard against the erosion of our constitutional values. After the hearing process for the dissolution of the Scorpios it seems as though Parliament has gone back to its past habits of being a karaoke club for Luthili House (ANC headquarters). What the South African Parliament lacks, it seems glaringly clear now, is what Kerry Kennedy called, in a recent lecture at University of Cape Town recently, ‘moral courage’ to dissent towards the maintenance of constitutional law even against party caucus when necessary.

Caucusing in Parliament is nothing unique to the ANC, even if those in the minority do it, and tend to cry foul whenever they loose. If anything, the past few years of our democracy should have convinced us by now that “party-parliamentarism” does not really give power to mobile vulgus, but to vested interest of party leadership. This, indeed, is a false substitute for people's representatives. For check and balances we should, at the least, consider changing the system to include individual candidates for local-governance and Members of Parliament. Isn’t a ground vote the whole point behind popular representation? Our democratic system has to be organic, live up to our local challenges as they arise. This might also give us reprise from the nascent nauseating group politics within and out of the ruling party.


I do understand, nor respect, the formation of groups on economical, cooperative, territorial, educational, professional, industrial principles, or even political values for that matter. I respect formation based on moral values, which is why Kerry Kennedy’s lecture touched me so much. After Polokwane, there was lot of talk about strengthening Local Government, which was taken as the nadir of good governance. Of course there are no guarantees that a strong Local Government means good governance, if the Republic of China is anything to go by. In China the central government is almost hapless against local government that is often very corrupt and unruly in following the passed laws of the republic, especially Environmental laws that are flaunted at will by local governments when bribed by businessman. On the same breath, good local governance is possible, as exemplified in countries like Switzerland and other federal working states.

Of course, the cause for moral courage is a double edged sword. For instance, it cannot be that it is needed only in Africa, despite Ms Kennedy’s emphasis, even if Africa is the continent most fraught with problems associated with limited civil justice. As long as, for instance, trading tendencies tend to be bias against the developing world, moral courage will be needed also by those in Western countries to “Speak Truth To Power.” When people are imprisoned on secluded islands indefinitely just for suspicion of being terrorists, moral courage is also needed to speak out. There’s also a clear danger, beyond the obvious, in narrowing the borders of moral courage to include only instance one agrees with. In thinking civil justice is only concomitant with only liberal democracy, for instance.

Another cause, blatant in our country, is how the majority of our people live with hunger and permanent refugee status in different informal places around the country. But you hardly here any moral courage coming out of private people and business against it. When the first fires blazed, in the form of xenophobic attacks, there was more moralising and condemnation than moral courage. The only moral courage we saw was in the form of philanthropic help for the displaced people, which was a good thing. But the whole thing reminded me of something René Girard once said; that “The victims most interesting to us are always those who allow us to condemn our neighbors. And our neighbors do the same.” The thing about moral courage is that it requires the ever widening of borders of empathy and dissent without neglecting what’s under your nose. As the idiom goes, charity begins at home.

The Dream Deferred: Thabo Mbeki (Book Review)

One thing certain about Mark Gevisser biography of the incumbent president of Republic of South Africa, The Dream Deferred: Thabo Mbeki, is that it was well timed. It came out just at the time when the governing party of South Africa, ANC (African National Congress), went to it 52nd National Conference to elect its next president after Mbeki.

After more than a seven year immersion in relevant archives and travels on two continents (Africa and Europe) Gevisser’s biography is thoroughly researched, referencing, amateurish psychoanalytic, and none too innovative. From the beginning Gevissers tells us ‘This book demonstrates that if Mbeki has been driven by one overarching dream, it is that of self-determination—personal, political and psychological.’ Then he let’s that slips for Lanston Hughes’ poem as thesis and, sometimes, forced reference point.

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore –
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over –
Like a syrup sweet?

Maybe it just sags
Like a heavy load.

Or does it explodes?

Mbeki first publicly mentioned the poem in introducing ‘debate on reconciliation and nation-building in 1998.’ All things considered this should have worked well had Gevisser been more of a storyteller than a journalist, all be it a well read and competent one. Indeed the strong point of Gevisser’s book is the broadness by which he tells the story of the ANC, especially in exile, than anything else. The book is also a mine for post apartheid South African politics even if one gets the feeling Gevisser didn’t invest enough attention into South African early history, especially implications of Frontier and Colonial implications. That section sounds more like parachute journalism with dull and glum recycled notions of Xhosa, especially Mfengu, character makings.

Givisser is more into his element when talking about Mbeki’s political experience; in the end, not too shabby for a political biography. But Thabo Mbeki: The Dream Deferred lacks the ruthlessness necessary to streamline Mbeki’s life into a functional narrative. There are vast stretches of prohibitive dryness and repetitive material that could surely been excised to bring down the 801 paged book into, at the least, half that. (I think there should be a law against writing books that are more than 500 hundred pages; no subject is that interesting).

Gevisser’s tone is that of investigative journalism, with literary nuggets there and there. It lacks informal anecdotes and titbits that make for entertaining read in lives of politicians. Though there are instances that beg for the raw venting of feelings and deeper delving into greasy facts (like reports of the president’s womanizing tendencies) the biographer chooses only suggestive implications, giving us too much muscle without fat. In fact Gavisser’s analysis of incidences around Mbeki’s life is most of the time flattering to the president with the notable exception of Aids dissidence case.

Gevisser, who was educated at Yale, concedes that the beginnings of the book were in his profile writings for a Sunday newspapers, coupled with inspiration he got from ‘Hermione Lee’s exceptional life of Virginia Woolf’. After that he immersed himself on intricate turns of Thabo Mbeki’s life, especially sources material instead of just printed material, hence his deep familiarity with his subject. The idea of a biography, he wrote to Mbeki when canvassing the book idea, was ‘a thesis, really, about biography as a tool for transformation.’ Mbeki bitted. Though Gevisser’s biography is competent in other ways, one can’t help judging it by higher standards of books like, Nicholl's The Lodger: Shakespeare, which introduced a far interesting paradigm shift on telling of familiar stories. Instead of telling a cradle to grave story, recent biographies concentrate on a certain episode that almost defines the life of its subject with web-like strands pinned into it like a pin centre. I was hopeful, after reading the book’s insightful introduction about what happened between Mbeki and Zuma, this might be the case with Gevisser’s book. For a moment I thought Gevisser was going to tell the story backward from the dissection of that incidence. Instead he chose Lanston Hughes poems, which to him expresses Thabo Mbeki’s lifetime dream and fears since he came to power.

*

Thabo Mvunyelwa Mbeki was born in 18 June 1942 (try finding that crucial information from the biography) at a little village called Mbewuleni. The village is in a small town of Idutywa in the former Bantustan of Transkie. His father, Govan Mbeki, was a prominent member of SACP and one of Rivonia treason trialist, with the likes of Nelson Mandela. Epainette Mbeki was left to provide for the family when Govan went to jail. Thabo had one elder sister, and two younger brothers, Moketsi and Jama (a lawyer who died under mysterious conditions connected to heat squad in Lesotho). It is obvious that Gevisser tells the story of Thabo through the eyes of Epainette, his mother most of the time, who is an obvious first and constant contact for the biographer.

Thabo was educated at Lovedale College, the first fountains of education for black people in the Southern Africa with missionary origins. He was involved in politics and was expelled from the institution. He went to Johannesburg where, through his father’s contacts he met (white) people who organised a scholarship for him to study economic at Sussex University, England. He graduated with Masters in Economics from Sussex and went for a soft military training in the Lenin Military Institution at Moscow. He married Zanele Dlamini whom he met in England through political connections with the Tambos. He worked as a de facto assistant and understudy of O.R. Tambo, the then president of ANC. Though based in Lusaka, Zambia, travelled the globe a lot doing underground ANC work.

Gevisser credits Thabo for being the voice of reason, against the popular but doomed military voice within Umkhonto Wesizwe (ANC’s military wing). At one time Thabo was suspected of being an informer (something very common among the comrades in those confused times). He was lucky to escape torture like many comrades who were suspected of being informers, thanks, most probably, to his close relation with Tambo. Thabo was also often accused of living a soft life as a de facto ANC foreign minister while the likes of Chris Hani were popular for their valour in the military frontiers. Gevisser intimates that this had a bad psychological effect in Thabo’s psyche before the years the ANC was unbanned in South Africa.

According to Gevisser, Thabo initiated talks with South African delegates, first with business people before the actual apartheid politicians. This was a very unpopular move within the ANC, and Gevisser says Tambo actually used Thabo to take the flack for it while he stood to reap the successes. The most difficult years for Mbeki, according to Gevisser, was when Thabo lost the lead of negotiating status to Cyril Ramaphosa, the upstart lawyer with no ANC pedigree within the ANC (Ramaphosa came through the United Democratic Movement that kept the fire of liberation struggle burning during the years when the ANC was in exile wilderness.) This, for Mbeki, were first sign of ‘a dream deferred’; he felt used and discarded. Gevisser suggests that his not so warm relation with Mandela began at this time. Mandela, who had serious political differences with Thabo’s father, Govan, initially was not keen in regarding Thabo as his successor, but was pressured into the position by the ANC leadership. Thus Thabo became the first deputy president of democratic South Africa, and four years later, its president, serving two terms (ten years) that end next year (2009).

*

In truth thare’s nothing much new in all this to those who have followed Mbeki’s life with a modicum of interest. What Gevisser did is to collect material into one source, which is no mean task on its own; in fact I dare say this is a defining book concerning the political life of Thabo Mbeki. What is regrettable is that the traits of Mbeki the man do not come through very clearly; in fact you’re sometimes at pains to find simple biographical facts like his birthday mentioned on the book. He makes much about Mbeki’s ‘disconnection’ from the general mass and lack of integration. ‘From a very young age, his response to this condition of disconnection had been to sublimate all emotions,’ writes Gevisser, ‘all relationships, all desires, into the struggle for liberation. He had long made a political career—unusual indeed for a freedom fighter—around pragmatism, but at his core he was a revolutionary idealist.’

Gevisser tries to go into depth about the unconscious distrustfulness and fear of white people against Thabo Mbeki but left this reader dissatisfied. In any case the real question about South Africa now is whether the country can go beyond politics of cultural difference or grievance and popular cynicism. The tendency so far has been for everyone to hope for winning anyone into their own point view so as to establish the hegemony of their political values. It stands to be seen which side compromise would come or be subverted. Jacabo Zuma is less rigid with his values, rather lack of, and so has become the favourite of everyone in the manner of a girl who puts out being a favourite of boys in High School.

As I’ve already indicated; Thabo Mbeki: The Dream Deffered reads more like an extended newsaper feature than, say, a scholarly analysis. What jars most about it is psycho bubble and lunk of metaphors, well suited for platitudinous theorising, but a little cloying for a 801 paged book. Another thing I noticed about the book is that it kept promising that soone or later a putsh of some sort would happen, that you’d rich its nadir, but for some reason you never get the satisfaction of doing so. More like make love without reaching orgasim, or a thud sneeze. But in this age when memoirs of aggrievement climb into a crowded genre of no literature ability in political writing this is a better book.

The centre of African National Congress political infighting will not old

I’ve a friend in NYC (US) who, after seeing scenes of masses taking to the streets in support of JZ’s (Jacob Zuma) case emailed to ask for my personal opinion. I told him it was more of the glue failing to hold inside the ANC than anything, and tried to convince myself that it does not affect me. I was about to narrate to him how the whole cleavage was between the formally educated and self-made man within the ANC; something that’s always been the undertone tension within the organisation even while it was in exile, but stopped myself. Who am I kidding? Whatever mess these people make will affect me directly. Now is not the time for sterile history lessons and chose to be honest instead.

The situation within the ANC, I told him, has necessitated their men of goodwill, like Mandela, to remind of the crucial need for unity, and preach on the cardinal virtues of justice, courage, self-restraint, and wisdom, but those things are out of business in the organisation. Everything has gone topsy-turvy. Their clever politicians are fighting out a Hegelian tragedy—where the causes are more about hubris and pride and both sides stand on the limited right. Accusations of state institutions being used to fight political battles are thrown; and autocratic means of secrecy, speed and tact used to plot the downfall of JZ. But JZ is doing everything in his power not disqualify, at the least delay, his opportunity to test the truth of allegations against him tested in the courts of law.

In all that ordinary people have become outdated and the constitution of the country is being stretched to near breaking point. Everybody, the accused and the accusers, complain that justice is being perverted. One thing clear is that, as the ancient Greek, Thrasymachus, would say, justice is become the interest of the stronger. Debates are given to that the effect of giving legal respectability to wickedness and corrupt tendencies of powerful men in the name of democracy and to the disadvantage of common good. Justice court judges are under imposed duress of JZ supporters who, as they say, are dancing war cries and ‘ready to kill for Zuma’.

Everywhere they step comrades are treading on each other’s corns while trying to save false public face. The only people who have courage are those of coarse fibre and vulgar minds who foolishly tend to run risks that are beyond their resources. Ignorance has become a passionate weapon to silence the enlightened. Youth leaders, with bloated faces from too much whiskey and matshisa inyama (braai vleis) rely on the assistance of ignorance and dangerous ambition to intimidate the president of the republic with obvious reluctance from his leaders to discipline him. Self-restraint is seen as a weakness. Pusillanimous caution is how those already in government strive to advance their careerism and keep their jobs by being silent. The term, kunqilwa ophetheyo [you kowtow before the one in power] is thrown around with proud braggadocio for material greed and gain. Power has become the measure of all things. And wealth the new sign of comradeship. Other animals are more equal than others, and law is relevant because it must serve the animals, not the other way round. The pigs are walking on their hind legs.

There was a time when political wisdom was means by which wool was pulled over our eyes. Now there’s dearth of well turned phrases that used to ravish us into acquiescence. Wisdom, in political arena, is rare as hen’s tooth. Things that require skills of creation lay dormant. Since the whirlwind has hit our shores we’ve been seeing a lot of isisila senkukhu [hen’s tail]. Men we took to be of great ability have recently been seen toyi-toying, like on pulled strings, outsides courts for their compromised king. Trade unionist who once took impartial view of things have revealed themselves to be nothing more than wishing to be kingmakers and intimidate to submission those who ‘don’t tow the line’. And moribund former soldiers of Umkhonto Wesizwe took the opportunity to be on the lime light by promoting violent views if JZ lost his case.

That is what is called democracy these days in our shores; the threatening overthrow of democracy by the tyranny of the masses. The saddest part is how those who should know better within the party have decided to thrown in the towel. Suddenly, since JZ took power, their private affairs seem more interesting and exacting. They’re, one by one, withdrawing from public life to go plant cabbages leaving a general political lethargy where the ignorant gain confidence and the enlightened loose the nerve. Things fall apart, and the centre cannot hold, to paraphrase the poet.

I’ve lived with a declining and harried hope that whatever is wrong inside the ANC they’re sensible enough never to allow it to negate the revolutionary gains of our past. I thought the prevalent cancer was benign. It looks like it’s malignant. Every revolution contains within itself the pull towards its own demise, the philosopher says. It looks like ours, unfortunately, is no exception to the rule, as we had hoped. The situation is no longer about knocking a few holes against the party walls of the ruling party, it is getting dire.

Unfortunately the present political oppositions do not stand a chance against the ANC, even in a wounded state. What is needed is a Mass Movement of Democratic Union (MMDU), made of all civil minded people who see where the country is headed under the present leadership of the ANC, to come together under one umbrella. The choices are simple, continue bickering, living in the wilderness, or shamefully hoping you’ll forever compromise your principles by, well, ukubusa ophetheyo; or organise. Battles in a democracy are won by political organisation. Or, at this rate, we just must loose everything we hold dear, including meaningful effectiveness of our cherished constitution.
In spite of few outstanding instances of moderation and true nobility, I say with this due consideration and deep commiseration; we are in the whole on the melancholy track of degeneration and under the stress of civil conflict. Personally, I stand with those who stand by our constitution.

The Dizzying Circles

Recently, Trevor Manuel, the Minister of Finance, writing in Cape Times (Monday, July, 7, 2008), invited our nation (South Africa) to enter into dialogue with him about an age old issue that has baffled almost all economic studies: How do you make a country’s economy grow? Or rather, in our case, as the minister pointed out; how do you make an economy grow in broadband extent that puts serious dent on unemployment and poverty? There have been innumerable studies about how to make a country’s economy grow since the moral philosopher (no he was not an economist, the field had not even been devised by then) Adam Smith, wrote The Wealth of Nations.

Studies mostly look at fiscal policies; others to the relationship between free trade and economic growth. By now the only thing clear is that neither free trade nor protectionism is a cure-all. Some thinkers are even starting to think the field of Economics is more masquillage than real scientific study. Our Minister of Finance seems to still have confidence in what he calls mixed economic policies. In closer scrutiny mixed policies is more or less an arbitrary term that means different things to different people. That, of course, is the ANC trump card, pragmatism and manufacturing illusions of debate while luring your opponent by subjunctive means to your point of view. Still, let’s give the minister a benefit of doubt in any case.

I can forsee Zwelizima Vavi of COSATU (after his preoccupation with march action against food price rises, and dying for Msholozi) contribution. He’d say; foreign investment is crucial for the growth of any economy; but no economy has ever been developed by foreign investment. Foreign investors are like bees; attracted only by blooming flowers that need cross-pollination, but will be on the first flight at first signs of nectar drying up. Private investors, the unionist will declare. Especially foreign ones, are impatient and unwilling to sacrifice immediate returns for future gains. They will not take risks on new industries or poor countries, at least not in the absence of some other advantage (like tariff protection or government subsidy). So the government must come up with aggressive government policies designed to protect and nurture domestic economy.

Heaven forbids, a professor of Economics somewhere will say. There is not even a guarantee that when governments create protective umbrellas—via tariffs, subsidies, restrictions on imports, etc—for domestic companies, these will have a chance over time to become globally competitive, thus raising the level of prosperity of the country as a whole. He will remind us that these umbrellas have costs because they raise prices for domestic consumers, and often cut off access to better and cheaper foreign goods. Can future economic growth of the country justify the present suffering of consumers? The prof will ask, and conclude. The ideal here is to find a balance, and then like our minister, be a little vague on the specifics.

No, no! Dr. Balde Nzimande of SACP will say. It is a fact that history tells us is free trade and free markets are more of a bane to developing countries than a boon. And those rich countries that insist poorer ones should follow neoliberal prescriptions are hypocrites, insisting on solutions they themselves did not follow at this stage of their development. They’re still doing it now; look at how they still protect their vulnerable industries, like farming, from global competition. They believe in free trade only where they have competitive advantage. No country can ever develop meaningfully without state owner¬ship of enterprises. What’s needed is for the government to give our own manufacturers an edge by protection. This will allow our country to ascend to the economic ladder so that we can eventually compete with wealthier nations. Learn from China people.

Nonsense, Helene Zillie of the DA would say. The wealth of any nation depends largely on Intangible Capital; that is skills of the populations and the quality of the country’s institutions supporting economic activity. Any country that does not adequately deal with these two issues might as well forget about any economic development. Most rich countries, for instance, in proportion to their overall wealth, have very little natural wealth; yet they use it efficiently for high production, thanks largely to skills and transparency. They find it easier to attract foreign capital because of trustworthy institutions of economic activity, like civil society, an efficient judicial system, clear property rights, and effective government. Leave business alone, promote free trade, and all shall be added. By the way, I’ve been reading, rather my researchers, the laureate for Economics (1976), Milton Friedman. I think he had pretty good ideas. Why not we just abolition the Reserve Bank and replace its control over interest rates and the money supply with a mechanical rule for monetary growth. And, eh, if you want all that, vote for the DA. We shall show you how to manage the economy with clear decisive hand that benefits all.

Enraged and perspiring, the Reserve Bank will, recalling something he read in the Newsweek by Melville J. Ulmer, come shouting. What we’re trying to do in our country, he’d say, the exponent of laissez-faire economics cannot appreciate, because they ‘oppose government activity of practically all kinds. If it were up to them ‘[they] would abolish virtually all regulations on industry, working conditions, and the professions.’ Despite the blunders of Thatcherism ‘[They] would turn over to private industry the nation’s schools, highways, federal parks, the post office and all other publicly operated services like water supply, local buses and subways.... [They] would terminate all government efforts to stabilize the economy through fiscal and monetary policies, public works or other means.’ They would abolish worker’s unions because they say they help cartelize industry to the detriment of consumer. They would even rubbish the idea of “corporate responsibility”.

A researcher in the Finance ministry department, seating on a cold room, will recall being impressed with Friedman’s book, Capitalism and Freedom, even if it was worse on other issues. He’ll recall how the apostle of “monetarism” (the idea that changes in the money supply are the prime causes of inflation and the business cycle) thought even if “fiscal policy could have some useful effects, there’s no reason to believe government managers could use the policy at the right times and in the proper amounts to achieve the desired effect.” By an argument that fiscal manipulations tend to introduce “a largely random disturbance that is simply added to other disturbances.” He’ll impress his ideas on the minister who’ll immediately call a meeting with the Governor. The Governor, who’s a little obsessed with the Keynesian notion of fiscal policy as government’s best tool to manage the economy, will reluctantly agree. The question is, the Governor would ask, how do we put this in a revolutionary language that’s acceptable to Blade and Vavi. Live that to me, the Minister will say, and duty the researcher to pen an article for him and they send it to the media. The media will want to know how JZ (Jacob Zuma) sees the issue and will be told; “We’ve all confidence in cde Trevor.”