The Gospel According to Frank

Describing himself as one ‘whom history destined to be caught in the storm’ Chikane sees the writing and publishing of his latest book - Eight days in September: The Removal of Thabo Mbeki - as a ‘responsibility which no one but me can discharge’. Who better to tell this story than one who has not only worked with and for Mbeki but one who has ‘been in the presidency from Mandela to Zuma’ for thirteen and half years? For ten of the thirteen years, Chikane was also a member of the ANC National Executive Committee. ‘I have seen it all from ... the apex of government and within the leadership of the ANC’, declares Chikane.

While his approach to the story, his recollections and his interpretations of what happened may and will probably be disputed, the version presented in the book is ‘true’ for him. We will and must defend that perspective as well as Chikane’s right and good intentions in telling the story.  But if Chikane has the right to tell his truth, every South African citizen has the right not only to evaluate the story of Chikane but also to posit other possible alternative ‘truths’. The challenge before us is that no version of what happened can be regarded as ‘the Truth’. Instead what we have are clusters of coexisting truth-claims jostling for hegemony. The Chikane version of the truth is but one participant in the stampede of truth-claims about what happened before, during and after the fateful eight days in September.

The book is written in subjective and emotive language. Those who wanted Mbeki removed are castigated and cast into the category of a non-thinking group who sang the ‘ngoku chorus’ (the remove-him-now chorus) - a group that had no rational or reasonable arguments for wanting Mbeki out and no proper care for the possible consequences of their actions.

While the allegation of irrational haste may apply to the events that unfolded over ‘eight days in September’, I do not see how the same allegations can be made in relation to the ANC’s elective conference in Polokwane. As someone who was at the Polokwane conference as a so-called political analyst, I noted that the conference was characterized by robust debate though some of it was marred by unruly behaviour. In the last page of the book, there is a shocking suggestion (amazingly attributed to Mbeki by the author) to the effect that ‘the electoral college at the conference [of Polokwane] was not representative of the real cadre of the movement ‘. This is a rather severe assessment of a legitimate ANC process - and why, because it did not deliver the results that would have been preferred?

In the run up to the removal of Mbeki following the Nicholson judgement, I was part of a delegation of NGO leaders which met with, among others, Motlanthe and Mantashe where for two hours, we pleaded with the ANC not to plunge the country into a constitutional and social stability crisis by removing Mbeki before the end of his term. Though we left that meeting rather disappointed and anxious since we received no assurances or promises, it would be inaccurate to say the people we met there were merely singing the ngoku chorus with no arguments, no reason, no care for social stability, no concept of distinction between party and state and no regard for constitutional integrity, as Chikane seems to allege.

The best sections of the book are those that deal with the constitutional challenge and the dilemmas that opened up for the state with regards to the ruling party’s decision to remove a sitting president and the mechanisms used to carry it out. In this regard, Chapter 9 of the book, titled ‘conflating state and party’ is notable as it contains the most interesting and perhaps most important messages in the book. Any reader pressed for time, should begin reading the book in chapter 9.

Chikane utilizes every available superlative to praise Mbeki and his ‘glorious’ legacy. This approach is ostensibly adopted to counter the alleged practice of ‘Mbeki-bashing’ utilized by some media and political commentators. Throughout the book, Mbeki is presented mainly as a victim – ‘crushed like a bug’ – by a powerful but irrational (if also somewhat intellectually insecure/inferior) faction in the ANC. He is also presented as an ethical leader who ‘disarmed’ both those who offered to defend him and those who spoiled for state-debilitating fight with him, by choosing to comply with the decision. In doing this, he put the interests of the country and the ANC first rather than his own personal interests, argues Chikane.

Mbeki is even compared to Jesus and his supporters described as being ‘like the disciples of Jesus’. He is also compared to Kwame Nkrumah for his ‘outstanding intellect’ and for their commitment to the liberation of Africa and its peoples. Even his stance on HIV-AIDS is defended as he (not Zachie Achmat or the TAC) is credited with taking the fight to the powerful pharmaceutical companies of the world. Judge Nicholson is blamed for not only for making a judgement that was ‘later set aside by the Supreme Court of Appeal as baseless’ but for diverting attention away from Mbeki’s mediation breakthrough in Zimbabwe. Although Mbeki is described as ‘just a human being like all of us’, it is only in page 212 of a book of 235 pages that we see the first ever back-handed ‘criticism’ of Mbeki in the book – and only fleetingly. According to Chikane, Mbeki’s ‘greatest weakness was directly related to his greatest strength – his intellect (and) because of his high intellect, many people misunderstood him’.

If Chikane has a right to tell his story, he also has a right to respect and stand in awe of Mbeki. He is probably not alone in this regard. But the rest of us are under no obligation to join the queue of the awe-struck. Nor are we obliged to stand in awe of the contents of this book. Chikane informs his readers that flowing from his decision to publish this book, he has become a ‘persona non grata’ in certain influential circles, so that he is being excluded from business and employment opportunities. Like Mbeki he has also been victimized.

In spite of Chikane’s best attempts, this cannot be construed merely as a book written by a victim about a fellow victim for the benefit of other victims in the past or in the future. This is a book written by one of the most powerful men in the post-Apartheid South African state. It is a book about one of the most powerful and most influential men in (South) African politics. None of them are mere victims, mere angels or mere villains. If anyone wants to understand Mbeki and the ANC deeply, including the antecedents to the events of the eight days of September 2008, Chikane’s book is not entirely helpful. Read William Mervyn Gumede’s older Thabo Mbeki and the Battle for the Soul of the ANC instead. Even Ronald Suresh Roberts’s ‘Fit to Govern. The Native Intelligence of Thabo Mbeki’ presents a better argued case. Mark Gevisser’s biography of Mbeki titled A Dream Deferred. Thabo Mbeki will help readers understand the character of Mbeki and perhaps even understand how he might have brought himself to the point of the ‘eight days in September’. While Brian Pottinger's The Mbeki Legacy is irreverent to the point of violence, it will sober up anybody who has read only Chikane on the removal of Mbeki.

The question is not whether Chikane has the authority and credentials to write the story - about that there is no question. The question is whether Chikane is not so scarred by his own involvement and so blinded by his admiration for Mbeki that he has disqualified himself from being either a reliable assessor and raconteur of Mbeki's legacy or a reliable guide into the soul of Mbeki. Besides, to have the authority and the right to tell a story is not necessarily to have the ability to tell that story and tell it in a manner that is just and engaging.

Malema: Finished and Klaar or Klaar but Not Finished?

What now for Malema? Is the latest ANC National Disciplinary Committee (NDC) verdict plus the revised and harsher sanction the final nail in Malema’s coffin? Is he finished and klaar or is he klaar but not quite finished ?

For fourteen more days at least, he is still president of the ANCYL. Four fourteen days he still has standing and status within the ANC. According to the ANC constitution, ‘a decision of a disciplinary committee only takes effect once the internal appeal procedures and remedies provided for' have been exhausted.

But the cloud that hangs above Malema’s head will probably be growing bigger by the day so that his authority and integrity may suffer severely during this period. If he chooses to appeal – and why not, he has little more to lose – his 14 days of reprieve will probably be extended especially if the appeal is lodged too late into the fourteen days period or even on the last hour of the fourteenth day.

Since the Malema legal team will be going back to the National Disciplinary Committee of Appeals (NDCA) for the second time, their appeal options have been considerably narrowed – they cannot appeal for aspects of the verdict and sanction already upheld by the NDCA in their earlier appearance. Realistically, they can only appeal for the severity of sanction to be reduced. They will seek to demonstrate, one supposes, that the NDC has failed to recognize the remorse of Malema whom they will present as someone who – together with Magaqa and Shivambu - is willing to subject himself to the structures, standing orders, codes of conduct and the constitution of the ANC.

It is astounding that Malema appealed a 5 year suspension sanction but was slapped with expulsion at the end. Some of his supporters might even think that the NDC is punishing Malema for daring to appeal against the NDC. The Malema precedent might cause future ‘respondents’ to think twice before moving from Derek Hanekom (chair of NDC) to Cyril Ramaphosa (Chair of the NDCA) and back. In fairness to the NDC, Malema has not exactly covered himself in glory through his utterances and actions in the period between the two sets of appearances before the NDC.

The process that should unfold after the appeal – if Malema chooses to appeal – is unclear. At the heart of the confusion is the matter of the constitutional ‘separation of powers’ between the NDC, the NDCA and the NEC.

According to the ANC constitution the NDC has authority to conduct disciplinary hearings, make findings, pronounce a verdict plus the sanction it deems appropriate (within the confines of the sanction options provided for in the constitution). The provisos for the NDC decisions are that its report must be submitted to the General Secretary of the ANC and to respondents before going public. After that, the respondents can (within 14 days) take the NDC decisions on appeal. The question one can pose here is this. Since the constitution introduces the NDC as a committee established by the NEC (effectively a subcommittee of the NEC), when it submits its report to the NEC (via the General Secretary) in terms of fairness of process, should the report submitted to the NEC be for noting or for approval? Best practice in administration seems to indicate that when subcommittees submit reports to the committees which established them, such submissions are for approval and not merely for noting. Yet in the case of the arrangements as contained in the ANC constitution, assuming that one reads it correctly, the NDC subcommittee seems able, to finalise matters all by itself, except for the provisos I referred to above. Of course the NEC and the constitution may and can delegate/give the powers to ‘investigate’, ‘prosecute’ and ‘sentence’ to the NDC. The question is; is this in keeping with best practice? I do not think so.

The other matter relates to the powers and authority of the NDCA in relation to the NEC. According to the constitution the decisions of the NDCA are deemed final but the NEC may, in its discretion, choose to review the decisions of the NDCA’. How final are the decisions of the NDCA if the NEC has the prerogative to review them? Should the constitution not stipulate that the decisions of the NDCA shall not take effect until the NEC has exercised or chosen not to exercise its prerogative to review the decisions? Indeed, would that not be a fairer more just way of processing disciplinary decisions?

As well as the organizational and political implications of the current spat between the ANC and its youth wing, the consequences of the expulsion of Julius Malema may require the ANC to do a serious constitutional review. Such a review would deal not only with the few illustrative issues I raise above but also the questions that relate to the constitutional provisions that define the relationship between the youth league and the ANC. At a political and strategic level, while the ANC may have, through the Malema expulsion, sent a strong signal and message to all comrades who lack discipline, there are several urgent matters for the ANC to look at. There is little doubt that in expelling Malema, the ANC seeks to save itself from Malema. Were the sanction less harsh, one might have added that the ANC seeks to help save Malema from Malema. We could certainly say that with the earlier sanction of a 5 year suspension.

Malema is of course no child. He is an adult who must take full responsibility for his words and his actions. In fact, he celebrates his 31st birthday on the 3rd of March, if I am not mistaken.

Yet the other half of that truth is that the scale and brazen nature of the indiscretions of Malema - the kinds that have seen him expelled on 29 February 2012 – were played out in public and in the presence of ANC leaders, again and again, over the past four years. It is fine to censure Malema for lack of remorse, but I am dismayed at the lack of remorse by the ANC and its current crop of leaders for having failed to act sooner, for having done nothing about Malema’s indiscretions for a long time, sometimes for having cheered him on, in short for having failed Malema. Both and NDC and the NDCA are united in an unspoken conspiracy of denial of any wrong doing by the ANC – a conspiracy that may come back to haunt the ANC.

Denial is a precarious basis for future corrective action. This is as true for the ANC as it is true for Malema. Both parties have to take long and serious looks at themselves in the mirror over this whole sorry saga. Malema has to re-invent his character, revamp his image and consider dumping some of the strategies and tactics that have worked for so him so far. Clearly these strategies and tactics are no longer working, hence he finds himself in the cold and lonely space outside of the ANC today.

But the ANC as a party has to do something similar. Only one Julius Malema has been expelled from the party. There is at least three million younger Julius Malemas who are neither at work nor at school - both inside and outside of the ANC. Armed with their empty stomachs, spurred on by their hollow dreams, with lots of time in their hands, anger is building up in their hearts. Unless the ANC attends to them, the real fall-guy in this saga, may in the long run be Derek Hanekom and not Julius Malema.

Zuma's Best Laid Economic Schemes for 2012

With my dangling laptop bag bumping rhythmically against my well-cushioned behind, I sprint from the parking lot at Oliver Tambo Airport (Johannesburg), up and down the stairs and through the crowd of baggage-bag wielding travellers. After tossing my laptop plus all the earthly belongings in my pockets onto the conveyer belt for security scanning, I dribble past the tackles of the shoe-shine guys. Within minutes I present my hyperventilating self at the mouth of the giant winding pipe that pours passengers into the aeroplane. Just as well that I had checked myself in online the night before! Slightly more than two hours later, I am in parliament, Cape Town – where the 2012 state of the nation address is about to be delivered. My job is to decode, unpack and analyise the speech on national radio.

Zuma is in good spirits. Several times, he deviates from his notes. He jokes and smiles and a few times, he gives his signature deep stomach chuckle. His audience catches onto his warmth and exuberance. He seems to be having so much fun that I begin to fear he will break into an unparliamentary song and dance. His preliminary remarks predictably include a positive reference to the ANC centenary and unpredictably (even uncharacteristically) also include a mention of the likes of Biko, Sobukwe and Suzman. May this be the beginning of the de-ANC-ization of the South African liberation struggle history!

Next comes the mid-term review and a report back. Sort of. The so-called review is thin, fast, largely anecdotal comprising mostly of power-point like listing of poorly nuanced, insufficiently developed points which are short on detail. Indeed the report back consists mainly of recently begun works-in-progress. The problem of ‘structural unemployment’ is traced back to the 1970s – curiously if also conveniently. The recession is predictably blamed for slowing things down. The list of ‘achievements’ or ‘encouraging signs’ looms large in this section of the speech. Those who fear ‘nationalization’ are given the assurance that ‘the mining industry is one of the job drivers’ and that government is ‘committed to the creation of a favourable and globally competitive mining sector’ that attracts investment. In speaking about the unnamed provinces whose departments have been put under administration, the president uses the softest of words – ‘we are working with various provinces to improve governance...’. Perhaps Mangaung weighed heavily on his mind, at this point?

Then comes the heart of the address, namely, the announcement of several izingqalazizinda (infrastructure initiatives). To appreciate the need and purpose of these, one must appreciate the problem to which these are designed to respond, namely, the triple challenges of unemployment, inequality and poverty. The initiatives come buttressed by a recently established Presidential Coordinating Commission (PICC) which is overseen directly by the president and his deputy. They straddle virtually all our major economic areas: road, rail, transportation of goods, water sanitation, electricity, mining, ports, exports, industrial development, higher education, the SKA bid and agriculture. As well as the above, the president pledges a home-loan guarantee fund to enable those earning less than R15k a month to access mortgage loans, the installation of a million solar geysers in the next three years, the tightening of the Broad-Based Black Economic Act and the promulgation of Green Paper designed to speed-up land reform. All the initiatives will be driven by and located within state-owned enterprises and government (national and provincial). They are designed to stimulate the economy, create jobs, industrialize the country and generate skills.

We have a tall and rich list of objectives - grand schemes which inspire, bemuse and beguile – all at once. The initiatives must still be fully conceptualized and broken down into projects which are implementable. Funding, capacity and resources have to be found. By their very specialized nature and given our challenge of ‘structural unemployment’, many of the initiatives announced will not generate millions of jobs in the short term. They will only produce knock-on-effect jobs on a massive scale if and once they reach their maturity stage. One also hopes that that impeccable procurement processes and service delivery agreement regimes will be put into place. Otherwise these noble initiatives can lead to a senseless orgy of tender-preneural activities, producing a series of ineffective initiatives which litter our economic landscape with white elephants, managing only to the enrich a few (whose only skill is ‘technical-know-who’) and no stimulation of the economy whatsoever.

This was a state of the nation address thoroughly and almost totally dominated by matters economical – and rightfully so. But does it go far enough to address the triple challenges highlighted above? Eighteen years since the dawn of democracy, Africa’s largest economy has never managed to bring the rate of unemployment below 20%. It is estimated that nearly 50% of South Africans live in poverty. South Africa boasts one of the largest gaps between the richest and the poorest. Nearly three million young South Africans are neither at school nor gainfully employed. Our school system is full of inefficiencies and gaping holes - haemorrhaging nearly half the cohort by the time they reach the last class in high school. The teachers' unions, which Zuma thanked - stunning the nation in the process - are deeply implicated in the dysfunctioning of our schools. The higher education sector is under extreme pressure – with demand far outstripping supply. We know the amount set aside to establish two new universities but how much has been set aside to fix-up the poorly developed and poorly resourced further education sector?

One is struck by the almost exclusive focus on the state and government as the main (if not the sole) stimulator of economy and creator of jobs. Except for the reference to the partnership between the department of Home Affairs and the banking sector, the speech contains little that suggests strong partnerships between the private sector and government or (civil) society and government. Trade union federation, COSATU fails (again!) to obtain unequivocal government support for its call for the banning of labour brokers - the president commits only to the elimination of abuses within the labour broking system. Nor does the speech venture once outside of the borders of South Africa. From listening to the speech, one would not know that Muamar Gadaffi’s wife has recently become a widow. Nor would one know that South(ern) Africa recently failed spectacularly to obtain the position of chairperson of the AU commission – a failure which is amazingly being sold as a form of success. Clearly this speech was focussed elsewhere – on the grand schemes designed to stimulate the South African economy. What comes to mind are the words of Robert Burns’ poem titled ‘To a Mouse’. May Burns be utterly wrong when he says:

...the best laid schemes of mice and men

Go often askew

And leave us nothing

but grief and pain

For promised joy

Dreams From Mangaung

For every occasion, there is an instant so poignant only the willfully blind and the intentionally deaf can miss it. Such moments tend to happen outside and in spite of the rehearsed and the orchestrated. They can be dramatic or surreal, intended or unintended.

In the FIFA World Cup of 2006, such a definitive moment occurred in the 110th minute of the match between France and Italy – when renowned footballer, Zinedine Zidane angrily stabbed the chest of Italian defender Marco Materazzi with his(Zidane’s) balding head.

In the June 2011 ANCYL conference the moment came halfway through the speech of Zuma, when he paused, pushed his spectacles characteristically up the bridge of his nose and confronted one particular heckler directly asking, ‘what are you saying sir, are you talking to me’ - u thini baba, u khuluma nami? At that moment the relationship between Zuma and Malema became finished and klaar.

The definitive moment in the ANC’s 2007 elective conference in Polokwane was the afternoon of December 18th when Fikile Mbalula and Mluleki George led two rival crowds inside the university of Limpopo Stadium – within a stone throw of one another. At that moment, in that place, Mbeki ‘lost’ his bid for a third term, Zuma ‘won’ and COPE was ‘born’.

On the 8th of January 2012 the ANC centenary was unleashed. In a continent and country where institutions have been hard to build and even harder to sustain, the ANC has achieved a remarkable feat. Over the hundred years and still, the ANC, the PAC, the Black Consciousness movement, the trade union movement and the faith communities have certainly been the most important organizations in the lives of the poor.

On occasion of the centenary celebrations, different people will have chosen their own defining moments – for there were many ‘candidates’ for such moments. For some it was the moment when Zuma slaughtered the cow. For others it was the midnight lighting of the flame on the border between the 7th and the 8th of January 2012. Yet for some, it was the early church service held on Sunday the 8th of January at the Waaihoek Methodist Church – the very spot where the ANC was born.

Let me put it this way: The moment I waited for, was the moment in which former President Thabo Mbeki was meant to carry the centenary flame and hand it over to current President Jacob Zuma. I imagined Zuma stepping forward to meet him, flashing his characteristic and irresistible ocean-wide smile. I imagined them holding the burning flame together for a moment. I saw them each release one hand from the grip of the centenary flame to wave to the crowds in synchrony. Once they had placed the flame on the right spot in the podium, I saw them locking into an emotional embrace.

But alas, my dreams of Mangaung did not quite materialize. Mbeki was assisted by ANC veterans Andrew Mlangeni and Ahmed Kathrada to carry the flame. Who better to represent Mandela and the Rivonia trialists than these two? And yet I did not expect a trio-act at that moment. That is not what was announced and promised. I think I might have seen Mbeki and Zuma shake hands briefly – very briefly – as the trio handed the flame to the duo of Zuma and Motlanthe. As I watched the body language of the two men, Mbeki’s letter of 9 October 2008 to Zuma, flashed across my mind.

For several reasons, the flame handover moment was the moment of the centenary celebrations for me – both for what happened and what did not happen in it. The dramatization of ANC leaders handing over the torch to one another, just like they have done for a hundred years, was a riveting one. But it was a poignant moment also for the fact that Mbeki did not carry the flame alone and Mbeki did not alone hand it over to Zuma. Perhaps the centenary flame is too heavy and too hot for one man to carry – both literally and metaphorically?

The moment was emblematic also for the fact that it speaks of the future of the ANC – the flame must not only be handed from one (set of) leader(s) to another but it must continue to burn brightly. If ‘freedom in our lifetime’ was the motif that inspired and sustained the ANC for a hundred years, what is the compelling vision around which the ANC will galvanize for the next hundred years? Julius Malema has put forward the project of ‘economic freedom in our lifetime’. Upon closer scrutiny, it appears that the Malema Project is a project for and of the ruling classes. In putting it forward, Malema is only stating the obvious and the taken-for-granted; he is only saying what every elite is secretly dreaming and frantically working for in the tender committees, golf estates and board rooms of the nation. Maybe that is why some of them are so upset with him? Indications are that the ruling classes are on course to reaching their goal of economic freedom in their life time. Millionaires and billionaires are multiplying in their ranks. But poverty is also growing outside the gates of their secluded habitats.

What the ANC needs to put forward is a compelling vision that will speak to the dreams of the majority for the next hundred years. Some of that work has already started in the planning commission discussions. But the danger is there for the latter discussions to happen parallel to and outside of the ANC as such. Here is the irony. The compelling vision of which many South Africans dream is both lurking and lacking in the rhetoric of the ‘war against poverty’. A clear and permanent escape from poverty is what the vast majority of South Africans want.

But the war against poverty will not be waged on 4X4s, BMWs and Mercs. The war against poverty will not succeed if education, health and the environment continue to be neglected - especially the scandalous neglect of the education and health of the poorest of the poor. Poverty will not be eliminated on the basis of economic models that have not only failed elsewhere, but models that have manufactured more poverty than wealth. I dream that in December when the ANC meets again in Mangaung, the party will unveil and unleash with energy and clarity of purpose - a comprehensive vision that will ensure that one hundred years from now, poverty will only be part of our history.

Year End or End Year?

Under the cloak of the African nightly sky, amidst the window-breaking and eardrum-bursting sounds of giant fireworks that lit up the heavens and caused my poor dogs to gnash their teeth in fear; I ‘night-vigilled’ with friends and family to bid farewell to 2011. Together with millions of fellow earthlings living in different time zones, we tried to capture the precise moment when ‘this year’ become ‘last year’.

Now here we are;standing at the foot of mountain 2012, determined to summit by year end. For everyone, rich and poor, young and old, a brand new set of three hundred and sixty five times twenty four hours beckons. In this we are equal; no one has more than 24 hours in a day. And yet if you looked at the discrepancies between humans in terms of productivity and achievement, you would not think that we all have 24 hours in our daily time accounts, would you? I know all about the argument that pertains to starting lines but here is a simple fact - no one ever had more than 24 hours a day.

We cannot tell what will befall us in the year with any certainty. There is likely to be joy and sadness, excitement and deflation, amazing success and spectacular failure. These goodies and baddies will of course not be dished out in equal measure. The bad usually outweighs the good. That is how we tend to experience things, don’t we? We linger long on our challenges and misfortunes. We often fail to recognize the good that comes wrapped up in the bad and the victories that lie buried in the rubble of apparent defeat.

The truth is that as this year unfolds, we have no right to stand here with our hands in our pockets, our faces contorted and disfigured with complaint, disdain, anger, self-doubt and fear. Who said that we are mere objects acted upon by the years? Who said we are at the mercy of hours, days, weeks, months and years? These are but tools in our hands. The years constitute the stage on which we should sing our best and dance our most scintillating. This year will give back only in proportion to what we put into it.

While we may not deserve everything we will get (especially the blessings; not to mention the miseries) we get nothing from doing nothing; nothing from being nothing. So come on my friends, gird your loins, roll your sleeves up, put your soft hands on the deck, look 2012 in the eye and say, 'here I come’!

There is some prediction in terms of which the world will end in 2012. I personally doubt if the world - even the world as we know it - will end in 2012.Yet for me and you individually,2012 could be our last. So whatever your calling, whatever your job, whatever your purpose, wherever you may be located, whoever you may be; go out there, be and do your best. This may not be your year of the end but to what end are your years?

The Suspension of Julius Malema: Meanings and Implications

[To hear some of my views on the suspension of the ANCYL President Julius Malema, you can watch a television interview I did on the 11th of November 2011. Below is the link.]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?gl=ZA&v=rUV9cswXZcQ

It’s time Julius Malema had some afternoon tea with SA President Jacob Zuma. This followed by a single malt evening with former president Thabo Mbeki. If ever there was a time for Malema to think outside the box, this is it. Though he has the option of appealing, there are dire implications, whichever way one looks at this entire saga. In five years’ time he will be too old to qualify as a member of the ANC Youth League, let alone be its president. While others will be plotting, conspiring and caucusing away for the elective conference in Mangaung, Malema will be focussing on his suspension and how to get it annulled or suspended. He might also be too busy putting out the fiery ambitions of persons contesting his leadership within the youth league. All of next year, starting on January 8 2012, the ANC will be celebrating its centenary. The celebrations may, among many things, be used to cement the exclusion of the likes of Malema.

Effectively the ANC has removed its authority, sponsorship, underwriting and “protection” of Malema. He himself said once — taunting those who defected from the ANC to join Cope — that it’s cold outside the ANC. Even if he appeals and retains his position and membership for the duration of the appeal, he will only do so as a marked and stigmatised leader. One whose case is under appeal and whose future and authority is undetermined, compromised, unstable and insecure.

Of course he was “used” in the run-up to Polokwane. But the “using” was mutual and consensual (remember that word?). Malema was no pawn in this sorry saga. He was an active agent. Both parties benefited from “using” one another and both parties were hypocritical. Just because politicians have fallen out, does not mean some are better or worse than others. The argument that Malema should not be sanctioned because culprits with conduct similar to his have not been sanctioned before is a rather desperate and illogical one. I grant that the absence of an opportunity for mitigation may be the one matter on which I think the disciplinary committee might have erred procedurally. But this is a matter to which, among others, the “respondents” can address themselves through the appeal process, I suppose.

As for the question of the youth of Malema and the need to correct rather than punish him, I assume the disciplinary committee has had to do a cost-benefit analysis in terms of the impact of his conduct. They have reckoned it is “cheaper” to suspend him. In short they have surmised that whatever benefits Malema accrues to the party such benefits are outstripped by the costs he incurs for the party.

Clearly his influence at the 2012 conference has been dealt a big blow. His “economic-freedom-in-our-life-time” project is in serious danger of collapse, if it has not begun to crumble already. But let’s not confuse cause and effect. These are the effects of his suspension not the causes.

But there are other effects for the ANC and its youth league. If Malema is a symptom of a creeping malaise in the party, his suspension must not be mistaken for the eradication of the root cause of the problem. A “fall guy” — even if his name is Malema — will not be sufficient for the ANC to regain its former stature and moral authority. It’s time for those who claim to be devoted and loyal to the ANC to fix what is wrong with the party — at root and they must start with themselves.

Can Malema bounce back? Of course he can. This will depend on him not wasting what remains of his youth. Though there are individuals who have fallen out of favour with the party, there are really no precedents and examples for him to follow. No youth league leader has ever been sanctioned in this manner. No youth leader has quite been like Malema, some will argue.

So I return to the trite matter of the two elderly gentlemen I referred to in the first paragraph. They have the closest, most recent experience to the one Malema is going through now. They have immense experience in political activism and leadership — something young Malema has very little of.

Mbeki — someone whose value and wisdom Malema seems to have been on the verge of rediscovering. But this five-year suspension interrupted him rudely. Mbeki could talk to Malema about his thorny road to Polokwane; his experience in building structures, processes and institutions; the humiliation of his recalling as well as the pain of it all. Mbeki could talk to him about life after recall and how to maintain one’s sanity and dignity. The other man who could be a valuable source of wisdom and advice is none other than Zuma. With JZ, Malema could discuss the events of June 14 2005, the day Zuma lost his job as deputy president. A detailed tour of the road travelled by Zuma from June 14 2005 to December 18 2007 — that being the day Zuma was elected president of the ANC — is just what Malema needs at this time. Zuma could point out to the young man that even after December 2007, a lot more remained to be done. The Scorpions were still pursuing Zuma — all through 2008. It was not until April 6 2009 that the Scorpions were neutralised forever. And this was done without Zuma intervening in any direct manner — an art Malema is yet to learn.

Estranged from Mbeki in whose demise he once rejoiced; alienated from Zuma for who he was once prepared to die; cut off from the ANC — the organisation from which he derives all his fame, fortune and power — Malema is truly on his own.

Let Malema eat humble-pie, let him gird his loins, let him bite his teeth and go knocking at the door of Zuma and Mbeki. This is best done in the dead of night when journalists are fast asleep. When the door opens, I suggest he scratches his head properly from back to front — like the good African young man he is about to become — and then nervously rub his hands against each other, respectfully avoiding direct eye contact and say one word only: eish!

Desmond Tutu, the Dalai Lama and the Elusive Visa: Take Two

Concerning the small matter of the failed attempt by the Dalai Lama to get a visa into South Africa in order to, amongst other things, attend Desmond Tutu's 80th birthday this weekend; let us begin by giving the South African government the benefit of the doubt. Notice how I have carefully constructed the preceding sentence along the lines suggested and hinted at by several government spokespersons? You see, according to government, it is not so much that the government refuses to give the Dalai Lama a visa; rather it is the Dalai Lama who has failed to get it. And he still does not seem to get it! Do you get it?

While the government was still considering the application, didn’t the Dalai Lama cancel his trip? Even if the government had actually refused him the visa, is that not its prerogative? Admittedly it is kinda sad, but there is nothing special or unique about the Dalai Lama’s growing tendency to fail in his attempts to obtain a South African visa - as we would put it in South Africa. Thousands other blokes fail the same test every day. The words and actions of government shall not be taken out of context. The gun shall not be jumped. And we should not be emotional about this. Ok?

How I would love to carefully examine the words of government on this matter – if I could find them. And this is at the heart of the current national frustration. This is why so many South Africans feel disrespected. Government has not even bothered to provide any words to explain or clarify any thing. The unspoken message is ‘for your own good, we cannot tell you the truth’! Minister Nkoana-Mashabane did say a week or so ago that the Dalai Lama should apply - like everybody else - and once the application was received it would be processed like any other. Various pieces of brief, incoherent, ineffectual words have come from the mouths of various government spokespersons – saying little and meaning even less.

Not much more light has been shed or shared even after the Lama put us all out of our misery by withdrawing voluntarily. I suppose the Lama is liable to being accused of jumping the gun by cancelling the trip prematurely. I heard two cabinet ministers being interviewed on TV. All they could say was ‘please be patient, your call will be answered’. They also referred all questions to the ministry of international relations - poor ministry, poor minister!

The ANC (ruling party) spokesperson sang the same chorus. But he went further. He accused Tutu of jumping the gun and of mistakenly comparing the Apartheid government with the popular and democratic government of the ANC. The spokesperson also said that we must not speculate about foreign policy, China and Tibet as having anything to do with a Visa not granted to the Lama. We must just wait, he said. And so we wait. And wait. And wait in this desert devoid of explanations.

The clearest, most honest and most human spoken statement on the matter has come from Tutu. Yet there is a sense in which the government has spoken clearly through its silence. Through the many incoherent, ineffectual and economical statements, much more has been said than meets the eye. One area in which this government has spoken clearly and openly is in the area of action. Two years ago when Tutu and his friends attempted to smuggle the Lama into the country, government stepped in and sort of refused the visa. They wanted to prevent the hijacking and the jeopardization of the FIFA World Cup event by the Dalai Lama, said a few brave ones among government representatives. At that time, one minister - Hogan - went too far and actually condemned government. She has since been gently and quietly retired.

Enough fudging and fibbing! Remember the stuff we have been told not to speculate about? Remember the things said to have nothing with the refusal of the visa – small matters like the oppression of the people of Tibet? The branding of the Dalai Lama – not as a spiritual leader but as a separatist- by China? Remember the issues of current and future trade between South Africa and China? These very issues are the precise and concrete clues to the astounding behaviour of the democratic South African government, in refusing the Dalai Lama an entry visa twice in 24 months.

Clearly the South African government has done its calculations – assisted with the necessary prompts and nudges from China – and decided that it would be unwise to allow the Dalai Lama in.

The real reasons behind the refusal or the delay in granting a visa to the Dalai Lama must indeed be sought in the forest of South Africa’s relations with China. In this regard, Tutu cannot take it personally - in the most private sense of the word, that is. The intention of government is not to spoil his birthday party even if the effect of the government’s decision will be the spoiling of his birthday party. Current and future trade commitments and expectations with China are clearly at the heart of government decisions. Yet, as a citizen of this country and as a global citizen, Tutu has every right to be angry and to demand an explanation.

Until now, many would have assumed that, not to allow the Dalai Lama into South Africa would clearly and only be in the national interest only of China. After all, in some ways, in relation to Tibet, the Dalai Lama (despite his recent retirement from politics) is what Desmond Tutu was to the Apartheid government. Naturally, China will do everything in its power to deny the Dalai Lama any important space and any hallowed platform from which he may promote the cause of Tibet. This visa denial is a slap in the face of the people of Tibet. It is a signal calculated to douse the flames of their 'separatist ambitions' – that is what this is ultimately about from the point of view of China.

From the South African perspective, the are real issue with which people are struggling and about which some South Africans are angry. Chief among these is; in what ways is it in the national interest of South Africa to prevent the Dalai Lama from coming? Some may understand that some ‘national interests’ may be messy and disagreeable by they will still wonder why their government is not trusting them with a full and genuine explanation.

Perhaps China will enable the government to deliver the millions of jobs they promised voters in the last election. Perhaps China is the silver bullet which will awaken the economic giant that is South Africa, helping us eschew both nationalization and Tunisia-like riots. Maybe China will fund the upcoming elections. Who knows? What exactly is the South African national interest which would be put at risk by giving a visa to a man whose fame comes from advocating non-violence and asking for political independence for his people? He is of course not perfect. He must have made some mistakes in the past. But is that why he has effectively become a persona non grata in South Africa?

The danger exists that the South African government, in pursuit of national interests as defined by itself, may be slowly drifting away from its citizens. This is the danger Tutu was highlighting when he warned that one day when the feelings of alienation between citizens and government reach boiling point, South Africans might start praying for the downfall of the African National Congress government.

Is the South African government happy now that we have managed to keep the Dalai Lama out for a second time in as many years? Is China happy now? One hopes the South African government is genuinely satisfied. China must be ecstatic. But I do not think China’s respect for the South African government and the South African people has been enhanced much.

Climate Change: Is it as Important as Football?

The hotel room has no shower and no toilet en suite. Did I say room? There is not even enough space for my brightly coloured Shangaan bag between the single bed, the three walls and the door. So overnight, I share my bed with my Shangaan bag. Try substituting a large luggage bag for your nightly teddy-bear (or its warmer-bodied substitute) and let me know how the hug feels. Yet the joint displays the appellation ‘hotel’ shamelessly and prominently outside. I am not visiting some untouched-by-civilization-tribe deep in the Amazon jungle. This is the famed city of London – Russel Square - to be precise. It is the first weekend of October 2011. The after effects of my overnight flight are joining forces with the horror inspired by my London 'hotel squatter camp'. I come down with a stomach bug. Imagine my considerable frame, bent up like a bow (ready to shoot at the slightest provocation), scuttling noisily up and down floors through the narrowest of passages –from my room upstairs to the toilet downstairs – up and down, several times through the night.

Shortly after my arrival at 'hotel squatter camp', a BBC journalist arrives. He had made an advance order for an interview with me. He quizzes my tired mind on the looming visit of the Archbishop of Canterbury to Zimbabwe. Was it a good idea for the Archbishop to go? Of course. Should he see President Mugabe? Why not? ‘Better still, perhaps the Archbishop should pray for President Mugabe to meet his Maker before the Archbishop meets with Mugabe’, I add. What should the Archbishop say to Mugabe? ‘Hands off the church’ and ‘please retire yesterday’. But I also warn that the Archbishop better prepare for a possible assault on his dignity and that of the Church of England given the intimate and historical love-hate relationship between Mugabe and Britain and between Britain and Zimbabwe. At this point the satisfied looking journo packs his high tech recording equipment and disappears into the streets of London. Who knows which of my words he will choose to use? In interviews, you say your say but someone else is going to edit, pick, choose, contextualize and package so that you sometimes end up meaning what you did not say and saying what you did not mean.

The centrepiece event of my visit would happen further north of London in another famed city – the city of Manchester. The next morning - Saturday the 1st of October 2011 - I hop onto a fast intercity Virgin train. Two and half hours later, I am walking down the streets of the city of Manchester United – the most successful English Football club in England and one of the most recognizable brands in the world of football. It is also the home of the resurgent Manchester City. Manchester - the castle of the legendary Alex Ferguson, the laboratory of ambitious Roberto Mancini, home to the amazing Wayne Rooney and the stomping ground of the temperamental if also magical Carlos Tevez. Given the trials and tribulations of my night at hotel squatter camp, I am not as sprightly as I can be. The streets are full of evidence that on this day in this city Manchester United is playing Norwich Football Club. A football crazy friend of mine sends me a text message. He cannot understand why and how I could come so close to the sacred grounds of Old Trafford and miss the opportunity of opportunities. Unforgivable! What on earth could be more important than football, my friend asks rhetorically?

There is indeed such a thing - much more important than football. It is called the earth! I have come to Manchester to speak at a conference on climate change – an event at which I will join others in the UK who are campaigning against (government) practices that exacerbates climate change as well as policies that shift the worst effects and the burden of climate change towards the poorest of the poor. The evidence is mounting up and overwhelmingly so that climate change is a real, present and worsening danger.

Ironically the date of my sojourn in Manchester – 1st of October 2011 – has been recorded as the warmest October day in Manchester ever. On the same week, there were deadly floods in the Philippines. Local weather forecasters in the UK suggest that by the week ending the 9th of October temperatures will drop by so much that there might be frost and snow in several places.

My first Manchester assignment is at the Manchester Metropolitan University – where I take part in a panel discussion comprising anti-climate change organizations with a very strong student presence. The session is put together by two impressive organizations, one called ‘Stop Climate Chaos’ and the other called ‘People and Planet’. It is quite encouraging to listen to students and younger academics speaking so passionately and so intelligently about the dangers of climate change and what their government and their corporate sector should be doing about it.

Later that afternoon, I give my main talk at a service organized by three internationally known humanitarian aid organizations, Christian Aid, CAFOD and Tearfund. I begin by giving my 600-persons strong audience the warm greetings of our Minister of International Relations – the incoming president of COP 17 – the honourable Maite Nkoana-Mashabane. I also assure them of warm regards from Desmond Tutu (who turns 80 later this week) and Nelson Mandela. My audience particularly like the reference to Tutu and Mandela.

In my talk I speak about the arrogance of humanity that makes humans think that they are better than the mountains, the animals, the rivers, the oceans and the forests. I speak of a time when my ancestors believed trees could be cajoled, rivers could be reprimanded, forests could cry out and wild animals could be related to in terms similar to the way humans relate to one another. But my ancestors were told oh no, this is unscientific, backward, pagan and depraved. It is idolatry and animism - the worship of dead things, they were told. And yet it is science that tells us today that the destruction of forests such as the Amazon is responsible for our erroneous and increasingly scarce rains. At the end of the service the crowd moved into a street procession across the city of Manchester towards the venue where Prime Minister David Cameron’s Conservative Party was having their annual meeting. I proudly walked in the front row, prominently displaying a poster with a question for the Prime Minister: ‘Greenest Government Ever’? He promised – upon taking over from Gordon Brown and Labour – that his would be 'the greenest government ever'.

Admittedly, climate change is a complex and disagreeable issue, especially from the developing world’s point of view. The fact of the matter is that the contribution of the developing world in the production of toxic waste and the carbon emissions is small compared to what comes out of the wealthy and developed world. Yet the developing world is experiencing the deadliest effects of climate change. This situation is made worse by the approach of some that seems to dissociate environmental issues from social justice issues. In this regard climate change issues tend to be viewed as a replacement of the social justice issues – ‘enough about human liberation now is the time to liberate the environment’. Such arguments are of course mischievous, self-defeating and downright dangerous. It is self-defeating because if environmental justice has nothing to do with the struggle against poverty, imperialism, colonialism, racism and gender violence, tell me what has? Furthermore failure to make connections between social justice issues and environmental justice issues is probably at the heart of current global climate-change government and civil society inertia. It is this failure to make the necessary connections that is tempting some rich countries to outsource and ‘buy’ the management and dumping of their toxic waste to poorer countries. It is this failure that allows for the astounding rhetoric that sees poorer countries blamed for and burdened with the worst kinds of the effects of climate change. Indeed it is this failure that deceives some poorer countries into thinking that climate change has nothing really to do with them. In this regard, developing countries see climate change as the new hobby and pet subject of the rich and powerful countries. Alternatively they see it as an excuse for their continued oppression and exclusion. Until we can make the connections between social justice issues and environmental justice issues we will not mobilize the world for action against climate change.

And yet nothing presents us today with a more urgent issue than climate change. In the final reckoning it will not matter whether a country is rich or poor. If nothing is done by governments and corporations, by NGOS and civil society in order to stem the time of climate change there will be no earth for future generations to inherit or inhabit. In this regard, the COP 17 gathering in Durban, South Africa, becomes one of the most important gatherings on earth. COP 17 cannot be allowed to fail. Could memories of the global anti-Apartheid struggle inspire the COP 17 hosts to the new struggle that beckons?

© tinyiko sam maluleke

Liberating Ourselves from Bankrupt Notions of Liberation

The theme for this year’s Heritage Month leaves me somewhat cold — even after carefully considering the major statements of the ministry of arts and culture in this regard. “Liberation heritage in honour of heroes and heroines of the liberation struggle”, that is the theme. Not that there is anything wrong with the idea of “liberation (as) heritage”. Nor do I totally begrudge those who continue to employ the nice-sounding and increasingly glib notions of “liberation heroes”, “liberation heroines” and “liberation struggle icons”. Am I the only one who feels the word “liberation” is getting more and more mention and less and less practice — as if repeated mention of the word will substitute for the lack of experience of lived liberation by the vast majority of people in this country?

“We will remember the(se) heroes and heroines of our people by erecting monuments in their honour,” said Minister of Arts and Culture Paul Mashatile on September 14 2011 at a parliamentary debate on Heritage Month. But liberation should be conceived of as more than a “heritage” that is capture-able and display-able in monuments, museums, statues, set-aside graveyards and gigantic tombstones — however splendid the visual displays and however carefully thought out the artefacts. Some of these sites run the risk of banalising some rather complex events and persons. They attempt to capture what should not and cannot be captured in monuments — reducing dynamic movements, fully human persons and multifaceted events into monotonous fixed entities. Intending to give ongoing life to people and events, monuments often succeed in “killing” the memory of the very people and events.

Citizens do not always “connect” with the monstrosities erected to commemorate and memorialise. Daily, they walk past these monuments, see them from the corner of their eyes, subliminally, but barely recognise them as either epoch-making or life-changing. Disconnection is neither the only nor the worst form of reaction towards some politically conjured-up heritage or memorial sites. These monstrosities can traumatise and terrorise. Every time I look at the giant and ugly statue of Nelson Mandela installed at the heart of Sandton’s medley of shopping malls, I cringe and look away with pain. Monuments can traumatise people by dealing trivially and superficially with dear stories, special people and phenomenal events. Trauma can also come when monuments attempt to “legislate” and “manage” how we should remember, which is inevitably what monuments are ultimately about. Terror can occur when we are forced — through monuments to remember stuff we would rather choose to remember through ways of forgetting. Are there events, stories and people who are not worth remembering? Maybe not. But I do think there are people and events not worth monumentalising.

Minister Paul Mashatile presents as part of the rationale for the monumentalisation project the objective of combating the antics of “those who seek to rewrite and distort our history”, those seeking to “wish away the existence of the liberation struggle”. This is ironic because his project runs precisely that risk. Almost by definition, a monumentalisation project seeks to present neat, singular and dominant interpretations of major events — including the power to decide which events are major and worth memorialising. People are instinctively offended by the very attempt to provide one dominating and timeless interpretation of a person, tradition or movement — even if they do not necessarily disagree with the dominant interpretation on display. Surely the meaning and significance of persons and events changes with more/new knowledge and with the passage of time.

The obsession with the role of individuals in the struggle for liberation — a global phenomenon — is part of the problem. This has led to the absurd situation where everybody simply lists as heroes only persons linked to their political party. In this situation, the most powerful party, the ruling party, will supply the greatest numbers of liberation heroes to be mentioned in speeches of national significance and those to be monumentalised in all the sacred sites of the nation. The deeper and related problem lies in the attempt to reduce liberation and struggle heroism to individuals — the cult of individual struggle heroes. What if whole villages and whole townships rather than individuals were the struggle heroes? What if political philosophies and traditions were the real struggle heroes? What if unknown, uncelebrated individuals — men and women — as well as loose groups of individuals, affiliated to no famous political parties, were also struggle heroes? What about those who used means other than the song-drenched protest march, the gun, prison and exile to wage the struggle for liberation? Why are we attempting to limit the notion of struggle only to the known, the obvious and the conventional? Why are we so tempted to reduce the history of struggle to a “beauty contest” of individual heroes and heroines nicely slotted into the narrowest of party political boxes?

One of the greatest liberation heritages of our country, for example, is the Black Consciousness (BC) philosophy. In a context where our grid of criteria for contribution to liberation is the political party and the famous prison-decorated-individual-cum-military-commander, we may miss just how phenomenal Black Consciousness has been for this country. In a context where we are looking for blood-soaked mass events of the “skop-skiet-en-donder” type, as the only milestones in the road to liberation, the more enduring intellectual, psychological and political role of BC can be missed. We all know that the man deserves more recognition than has been given since the advent of democracy, but by BC I mean more than Steve Biko. Nor am I speaking of Azapo or the Black Consciousness Movement — mere political parties which tried to capture (that horrible word again!) the spirit of Black Consciousness.

I am talking about an intellectual tradition that made the pursuit of knowledge a hallmark of the struggle for liberation. Here is a movement that managed to mobilise the arts and sciences for liberation. It helped us reconnect to the Pan-Africanism of Marcus Garvey, Edward Blyden, WEB Du Bois, Kwame Nkrumah and Robert Sobukwe. BC helped us rescale the heights of the intellectual traditions of the Drum magazine generation of black writers and the works of Frantz Fanon in the early 60s. BC taught us that liberation is something to be attained on the inside as much as it must be taken on the outside. In this regard, BC was perhaps the deepest, most creative, and most revolutionary response to the Freedom Charter dictum “South Africa belongs to all who live in it”.

BC is and was not an airy-fairy intellectual philosophy. Nor was it about military bravado. It was a total philosophy rooted in the belief that the oppressed need to help themselves if they and the oppressor are ever to be free. It is and has always been about economic freedom — broadly and comprehensively defined. But this was not economic freedom based on tenderpreneurship. It was economic freedom based on the enlivening and tapping of local knowledge in dynamic dialogue with knowledge from elsewhere. The idea was never about making “the leaders” the richest, fattest and loudest men and women in their lifetime — a warped and wicked inversion of the noble phrase “leading by example”.

Look around you; you will see the (brain) children of BC in virtually all the pockets of excellence you find today. Our best and most progressive traditions in journalism owe something to BC and Pan-Africanism. Some of our best literary traditions owe something to BC and Pan-Africanist philosophy. Look at our current judiciary, remove the BC influence and the Black Lawyer’s Association and tell me how many black judges remain. But I am falling into the trap of the cult of the individual struggle hero and heroine — I will not continue with this train of thought, tempting as it is. There are subjugated schools of thought in history, African and English literature, leadership theory, psychology, theology, sociology, public health and anthropology, to name but a few, which were born from the womb of BC philosophy. BC gave us the best chance of entering the global knowledge economy as self-confident equals with something to give and not merely take. It gives us our chance to integrate with science from inside and not to view science as something wholly external needing to invade our space, time and consciousness.

Many drank from the fountain of BC and Pan-Africanism freely and in broad daylight. Others — from here at home and abroad, black and white, male and female — borrowed, stole, adopted and adapted from it. Here is an intellectual tradition — made in South Africa — that has been exported to North America, South America, Europe and the rest of the African continent.

We only ignore and reduce the place of Black Consciousness as a national heritage at our own peril and at the peril of our black and white children.
© tinyiko sam maluleke

Our Real Heroes

I will remember the week 28th August – 4th September 2011 for more than the invasion of the city of Johannesburg by Malema supporters. The week will be remembered by me for more than the fiery words of the minister of sport - Fikile Mbalula – who while speaking from underneath a gigantic and an especially grotesque statue of Nelson Mandela in Sandton (North of Johannesburg) - urged the Springboks to go moer and bliksem other teams in the Rugby World Cup about to start in New Zealand. The unusual and deliberately ‘out-of-context’ employment of two famous words in which South African gender, ethnic, class and racial violence has always found expression was as embarrassingly amusing as it was chillingly jarring.

It was also the week in which Libyan rebels walked with guns blazing into Gaddafi’s living room - a feat they accomplished with ‘a little help from their friends’ (flying) in higher places (dropping devastating bombs). With friends like that who can stand against the Libyan rebels? But can they govern? We now know that they can wage war - with a little help from their friends - but can they unite and reconcile? Can they rebuild and put Libya on a path to democracy and development? Or will NATO set-up a permanent camp in Tripoli?

Nor were the theatrics and hysterics of the live TV broadcast of the interview of presidential nominee for the position of South African chief justice – Mogoeng Mogoeng – by members of the Judicial Services Commission (JSC) all there was to the week. The deeply divided and patently biased members of the JSC, under the chairpersonship of a scorned and probably conflicted deputy chief justice, toyed sadistically with their animated subject who was at times clearly out of his depths. Did I hear him say he is not interested in scholarship and publishing?Did I hear him comparing forms of rape? Good grief! To make sure that the unsuspecting TV viewer is thoroughly confused for some time to come, it was later announced that the 23 members of the JSC resolved to reward and endorse their ‘victim’ with a favourable 16-7 vote. What then was the cat-fight all about?

Behind the drama and the theatre, yours truly tiptoed to a different space, there to notice and collect gems of really good news. On the 1st of September the Ministry of Science and Technology and South African National Research Foundation (NRF) announced the names of some exceptional scholars, scientists and researchers in this country. In this regard, seven exceptional scholars were awarded A ratings by the NRF this year, four from WITS (Profs Madhi, Glasser, Pettifor and Wadley), two from UCT (Profs Brombacher and Janelidze) and one from UNISA (Prof Weinberg). According to the NRF, researchers rated at the level of A are ‘unequivocally recognized by their peers as leading international scholars in their field’ owing to the quality and impact of their research outputs.

Three young scholars were awarded the P rating as researchers – two from University of Stellenbosch (Drs Hui and Tereblanche) and one from WITS (Dr Vickey). Researchers rated at the level of P are younger, entry-level researchers who demonstrate great potential by already performing above their rank. Professors Mayosi of UCT and Waghid of Stellenbosch University were recognized for their efforts in the recruitment and development of future and more diverse generations of scientists and researchers.

The Lifetime Achievement Award - was presented to Professor Malegapuru W. Makgoba of the University of KwaZulu-Natal in recognition of his research in the area of Molecular Immunology as well as his role in the development of an HIV/AIDS strategy for the country. Makgoba joins a select group previous recipients who include the likes of Mamphela Ramphele, Philip Tobias and Njabulo Ndebele.

It saddens me that that the role of scholarship and research in the production of the knowledge we need for social, scientific and economic development might not be properly appreciated. As a consequence I have a sense that our great achievers in these areas are not adequately recognized. Our young should look up to the likes of Makgoba, Mayosi, Glasser and Janelidze and not only to the Kunenes, Malemas and Gaddafis of this world. Our media should be making as much, if not more fuss about science and technology as they do about politics. Our A rated scientists should be making the headlines. These researchers, who are part of the 2300 NRF rated researchers (out of a total of about 17500 researchers) located at various universities and science councils, are our heroes.

They are not our only heores;they are only an illustration. Nor are they a perfect type or lot of heroes. There are thousands of South Africans, unsung and unnoticed, in various sectors, working for the betterment of the people of this country, this continent and this world. These then are the type of heroes worthy of both our recognition and our emulation. Real economic freedom only comes to countries whose economies are built on the knowledge they produce.
© tinyiko sam maluleke

Goodbye Zuma. Farewell Malema

The 30th of August - 30 BC - is the day on which Cleopatra the famous seventh queen of Egypt committed suicide. Apparently, she deliberately poked an Egyptian cobra until it was so angry it bit her. In Shakespeare’s version of the story – Anthony and Cleopatra – Cleopatra died holding the snake that bit her against her breasts. But that is but one of several theories on how beautiful Cleopatra is supposed to have died.

Will the 30th day of August (2011) also become famous as the day on which Julius Malema got bitten by a political cobra called Jacob Zuma? Or am I mixing my metaphors here? Maybe this day will go down in history as the day whenJacob Zuma got bitten by a political cobra called Julius Malema. There is a third possibility. Recent descriptions of the ANC as an elephant which moves slowly and as not-a-pig which is capable of eating its children notwithstanding; at the risk of compounding the animal imagery that is piling up; could it be that the ANC is the cobra in the house? Could it be that having been beneficiaries of the cobra, Malema and Zuma will soon become victims of the same cobra? Afterall, both Zuma and Malema have, in various ways, been poking the cobra rather too vigorously and too frequently in recent years.

On 30th August 2011, when the president of the ANCYL, Julius Malema appeared before the disciplinary committee of the ANC, downtown Johannesburg was brought to a standstill. But ‘standstill’ is an understatement. There was mayhem in the streets of Johannesburg and chaos around the ANC headquarters. There was looting in the shops, t-shirts bearing the picture of Jacob Zuma were openly burnt and there were running battles between the police and the youth. The impact of Malema’s marauding foot soldiers has been such that the ANC has decided to move further sessions of the disciplinary hearings to a secret venue.

Though the party would, for obvious reasons, wish to expedite the disciplinary hearings, it seems unlikely that these hearings will be short. Firstly, Malema is not the only person charged, the vast majority of his newly elected executive committee members have also been charged, producing a real prospect for rather bulky and time consuming hearings. Secondly, the reported engagement of a well-known lawyer Adv Dali Mpofu to represent Malema and Co. – stretching the ANC constitutional provisions to their limits – signals the seriousness with which Malema is taking these charges. He is clearly prepared to explore all legal and procedural nooks and crannies at his disposal in order to avoid a guilty verdict. Thirdly, the engagement of Mpofu may signal, an as-of-now unspoken intent to take the matter to the formal courts of the land should the disciplinary process produce a negative verdict for Malema. Fourth, though I am yet to see the full list of charges, the most known charges as we have them from the formal statements of the party are rather vague. They are the charges of ‘bringing the organization into disrepute’ and ‘sowing division in the party’. The problem with these charges is that not only Malema but several others could and perhaps should have been slapped with these charges several times over since 2008. Why now? Why Malema? Again? Fifth, the vagueness of the charges may serve to strengthen youth league perceptions and allegations that these are nothing but trumped up charges intended to thwart the youth league’s radical economic programme of nationalization of the mines and to remove Malema (and neutralize the Malema factor) in the run up to the December 2012 ANC elective conference. Sixth, the party cannot ‘rush the hearings’ without appearing to disregard due process and therefore intent on reaching a particular outcome. Long and drawn out disciplinary hearings are nobody's interest – but the ANC mother body stands to lose the most.

Should Malema be found guilty, the censures available for recommendation by the disciplinary committee as per ANC constitution are a) reprimand, b) payment (in cash or in kind), c) suspension, d) expulsion.

The vagueness of the charges notwithstanding, a guilty verdict for Malema is not altogether impossible. This is especially because upon entering a plea bargain with the party disciplinary committee sixteen months ago, Malema received a ‘suspended sentence’. Should he be found guilty again, he may be deemed a ‘repeat offender’ and therefore served with a harsher sentence than he received before. The ‘cost’ of Malema’s antics and utterances to the party (and to the country) could be such that the opinion of those who matter may have reached a tipping point against Malema. The ANC does have a track record of letting inconvenient and costly individual members go. Could this be Malema’s moment to be let go? The party through its disciplinary committee must still provide compelling and coherent evidence to support the charges they have laid against Malema. Sloppiness in argumentation will only reinforce suspicions of trumped up charges.

Nor should we miss the political, economic and structural issues at the heart of the unfolding battle. There is an ongoing battle for political leadership in the ANC today. Young Malema, arguably the most eloquent leader in the entire ANC at this time, fancies himself as leader of the entire party and perhaps also as leader of the entire country soon. By extension, the ANCYL which he leads, having taken the lead in proposing some of the most radical political and economic programmes for the country, fancies itself as policy agenda setter for the party and its alliance partners – the ‘new vanguard of the poor and working classes’. As if the frequent war of words between the ANC and its alliance partners are not enough, the ANC now has to manage its own openly rebellious sub-structure. But how will they do this? Previous remedies used to deal with internal instability include disbanding of `leadership structures and the appointment of interim structures. We can expect something similar, should Malema be found guilty. Rumours of intentions to disband the entire youth league are probably exaggerated. It must be remembered that until recently, the youth league has been a ‘useful’ tool in the hands of the ANC (leadership).

What if Malema is found guilty? So what indeed! Whatever happens to Malema, indications are that his fingerprints are all over the body of the ANC and will be there for some time. It must be remembered that except for his rhetorical abilities, Malema is no aberration in the context of some of the current crop of leaders from the ANC and from other political parties. Malema enjoys neither a monopoly nor exclusive copyright on allegations of tender irregularities, a sense of entitlement, inflated egos and a penchant for vulgar displays of wealth. Here lies our deeper problem as a country. Except for the rhetoric about nationalization of mines, there are no ideological, political, ethical and lifestyle differences between those who support Malema and those who do not. What Malema has on the rest of them is his ability to use his rhetorical talent to artificially reach out to the bourgeoning ranks of the hopeless and the disenchanted - the majority of whom are youth. His tactics may be artificial but the hopelessness and the disenchantment to which he appeals is very real.

So what if Malema is suspended or dismissed? Does it mean that Zuma wins? Let us not miss the irony of this entire saga. A little less than five years ago, ANC members were showing their support for Jacob Zuma by burning t-shirts bearing the picture of his predecessor Thabo Mbeki. On August 30th 2011 we saw Zuma at the receiving end of the same practice. Those who pledged to kill for Zuma a few years ago, were baying for Zuma’s blood. But the irony deepens. Zuma detractors used the same tactics used by Zuma when he appeared in court to face a series of indictments related to corruption and rape. Indeed the very spot – Johannesburg library gardens - where men and women gathered to sing their praises to Zuma during his rape trial – was one of the spots where they gathered to denounce him.

If Malema is suspended or expelled, his dizzying political career may be brutally cut short. Yet many in the party will not fail to see Malema as a typical political child of Zuma – an outcome of the Zuma era and style of leadership. Contrary to what Gwede Mantashe – ANC General Secretary - said in the press conference of 30 August 2011, some will trace the problem of growing anarchy in the party, not merely back to Malema and not only back to the ANCYL; but to Zuma himself. Malema may lose, but so may Zuma. Zuma may run out of support for his second term bid with or without Malema. With Malema having thrown the proverbial first stone, Zuma may get his second term but only as a weakened and extremely vulnerable lame duck.

Our cobra is likely to bite both Malema and Zuma. Such is the venom of the Egyptian cobra that its victims die slowly and painlessly – without realising that they are actually dying. Should we move towards a situation of goodbye to Malema and farewell to Zuma, who might we be saying hello to? Is there a politician whose first name rhymes with Malema’s last? Such a politician may stand to gain.
© tinyiko sam maluleke

Zuma's 'Uthini Baba' Moment and the Future of Julius Malema

Do you recall how Jacob Zuma was made to wait for three hours because the start of the ANCYL’s elective conference (Midrand 16th June 2011) was delayed, by among others, the late arrival of Julius Malema ANCYL president? Once the conference begun Zuma had to listen to Malema‘s wide-ranging 90 minutes speech- a speech that was not all that flattering on Zuma or the ANC. When Zuma eventually got to say his say, there was such disrespectful heckling coming, especially from one particular front row of seats where a section of the ANCYL leadership was seated. Apparently, such was the brazenness of the heckling that at one point in his speech, Zuma had to pause and confront one particularly indecent heckler directly. ‘U thini baba? U Khuluma nami? ’Excuse me sir? Are Talking to Me?

Zuma’s u-thini-baba moment was an astonishing moment. It occured in the middle of one of Zuma’s most important speeches of the year. The speech was important enough for Zuma to wait for three hours in order to deliver it. It was important enough for Zuma to keep a crowd of 55000 South Africans at Orlando Stadium waiting for three hours - not to mention the millions who waited to see and hear him speak on television. Some commentators and observers have slated Zuma for standing the nation up in order to buy ANCYL support for his second term. Others took the Malema bait about the ANCYL being ‘the protector of Zuma’. All indications are that there never was any love lost between Zuma and Malema. Not then and not now. Not even when Zuma touted Malema as a possible future president. They simply recognized how much they needed one another – each for his own political survival.

Ever since Malema burst onto the political scene in 2008, Zuma and Malema have been playing off each other like striker and midfielder. Such has been the intensity of their mutual need for one another it has been necessary for each to routinely check his potential for independence from the other. In 2008 and much of 2009 Malema’s midfielder role included the deflection of attention away from Zuma so Zuma ‘could score the goals’. Of course Malema was but one of a dozen of Zuma ‘midfielders’ – Mbalula, Vavi, Mathashe, Phosa, Nzimande etc. From late 2009 onwards Malema started showing signs of boredom with the midfielder role. Soon he was scoring, own goals and real goals, politically and financially.

The u-thini-baba moment occurs smack on the day and occasion where Malema was officially declaring his graduation from both the midfield role and the striker’s role into the captain’s role. Whereas Zuma’s June 16th speech was framed in didactic and clarification mode, Malema’s June 16th speech was clearly framed as an agenda-setting speech. Malema’s lieutenants sensed that their leader had the upper hand and in their enthusiasm to savour the moment, they catapulted Zuma into the u-thini-baba moment.

Was this the moment in which Zuma came to realize that his partnership with Malema had served its term and outlived its purpose? I want to suggest that the most significant thing on occasion of the ANCYL conference was not the enforced waiting Zuma had to endure; it was not when Malema declared his loyalty to Zuma; it was not the shameful jilting of the crowd-in-waiting at Orlando Stadium; the most significant thing was rather the u-thini-baba moment. Like a spurned lover who knows deep down that the game is up but waits and pleads desperately for denial or unequivocal confirmation, the u-thini-baba moment was the moment Zuma both needed and dreaded.

When the moment came, the least Zuma could do was to acknowledge it. So he pressed the pause button on his speech, forcing a moment of complete silence in the hall. Typically, he pushed his reading glasses up his nose bridge, bit his lower lip and wiping all traces of the smile that sometimes seems to sit permanently on his face, Zuma turned around, looked the heckler in the eye and asked two terse questions: U thini baba? U khuluma nami? Say that again! Are you talking to me? The questions were rhetorical and the heckler knew that instantly. No response was necessary. These were no questions, really. It was a growl accepting the challenge to war, verbalizing a broken relationship and publicly acknowledging a deep sense of mutual disdain.

It was a moment of revelation for the youth league as well. It was a moment that unmasked the webs of deceit and flattery that had characterized Malema’s earlier pledge to Zuma that he was seated among his staunchest and most loyal supporters – his ‘protectors’. The u-thini-baba moment was therefore a moment of truth for both parties. Before that moment things were tricky and difficult for Zuma - much like looking for one’s lost or misplaced contact eye lenses in a poorly lit room. After that moment things became clearer but no less difficult.

We now live in the post-u-thini-baba era. This is the era in which we have seen the installation of Mac Maharaj and Amos Masondo in both of Zuma’s presidential offices – Union Buildings and Luthuli House. But alas! Seduced by the almost total victory at the ANCYL elections and buoyed by the animated responses to the nationalization proposal, Malema and his supporters appear to have either missed or misread the significance of the u-thini-baba moment. From time to time they slip into pre-u-thini-baba mode. They seem to think that they are still covered with Zuma’s boundless blanket of goodwill and goodness. Malema and his friends do not seem to realise that Zuma has withdrawn the political overdraft he had given them.

In the process Malema and the league have proceeded to usurp foreign policy and economic policy leadership from both government and the ruling party. This is how Malema has proceeded to install the nationalisation of mines debate at the centre of national discourse. And this is how he has issued some of the sharpest and most embarrassing criticisms of South African foreign policy positions – on Libya, on Ivory Coast and more recently and most brazenly on Botswana. Nor has Malema stopped doing what he does better than everyone else – manufacturing a thousand red herrings and plausible plastic issues to rationalise and justify his actions and utterances. One such red herring is the suggestion that the threat of disciplinary action against Malema is an attempt to reduce or remove his influence on the ANC succession debate.

Meanwhile the South African media have been hard at work – over the past month - trying to expose what they see as the unseemly side to Malema’s wealth. The Afriforum have laid criminal charges. The Public Protector has indicated that she will investigate certain aspects of the allegations. The ANC has a meeting with Malema and Co. today. Will the ANC have the courage to act decisively? Will Zuma have the courage to act in a post-u-thini-baba manner or will he revert to a pre-u-thini-baba mode of action? All will soon be revealed. Perhaps it is now time to throw the question back at Zuma:'U thini baba'?
© tinyiko sam maluleke

Born at the Right Time: Celebrating Antoinette

What would you pay for an evening in the company of Lebo Mashile and Don Matera – two of our country’s most gifted wordsmiths? I recently had such an evening at the home of Pitika and Antoinette Ntuli on the 30th of July 2011. Pitika is a world renowned South African sculptor, poet and intellectual. Antoinette Ntuli, a brilliant art critic and curator in her own right, (see her chapter in Pitika’s book Scent of Invisible Footprints published by UNISA Press in 2010), is an integral and key part of the Pitika Ntuli story.

When I arrived at the house, I sought Antoinette out first because the occasion was to celebrate her birthday. I had a warm hug and good wishes to deliver to her. She was dressed simply but elegantly - and she looked gorgeous. Her hairdo brought to mind a line from Hugh Masekela’s song titled ‘market place’. She had ‘corn-row hair in a million braids’ even as her eyes lit up with joy. She was clearly enjoying every minute and every aspect of her role of being at once host and celebrant. Small groups of guests took turns to swirl around her. She basked in the warmth of the attention she was getting. Throughout the evening, there was a beautiful and permanent smile on Antoinette’s face.

As I walked in I saw some of the country’s best thinkers, visionaries, truth-sayers, truth-doers, former exiles and former ‘inxiles’, exiled ‘inxiles’ and ‘inxiled’ exiles, blacks and whites, top-notch artists across the fields - young and old. Almost immediately, I spotted a small rowdy crowd huddled around the petite and dynamic figure of Paul Simon. Yes that Paul Simon - the Graceland Paul Simon. Paul is a great admirer of Pitika Ntuli's works of art. At the other end I saw Hugh Masekela in conversation with Lebo Mashile and Ngila Mike Muendani. A few steps behind them, stood Phuthuma Nhleko, former MTN Group CEO – speaking to a bunch of friends and acquaintances. At the other extreme corner sat a group of women.

I have been in that house before, but this day the very floors felt sacred and the walls stood in reverent attention. The guest list consisted of beautiful minds, gifted hands, fearless lips and spirit voices – the last two words being the title of one of Paul Simon’s most beautifully written songs from the album Rhythm of the Saints. The themes woven into this song are not altogether irrelevant to how I felt at the Ntulis that Saturday. The song speaks of ‘sweetness in the air combined with the lightness in my head’ – exactly what and how I felt as we went deeper into the evening. The song also recounts an occasion in which the powerful haunting presence of spirit voices could be heard summoning rain water and river water to come and cause healing.

Hovering between the sharp-angled living-room ceiling and the heads of the distinguished guests, were multi-coloured poems of hope and struggle, fluttering like winged bugs, jostling for voice, desperate for attachment, calling for re-membrance and hungry for embodiment. A little lower down, brilliant ideas bubbled and sizzled in the multiple simultaneous conversations – producing a prayer-like buzz akin to the one produced when the abazalwane (born-again Christians) pray together all at once. But the Ntuli house buzz of which I speak was inspired by the wines of Stellenbosch and by Scottish spirits far more mundane than the famous holy ghost.

Then suddenly, one of the poems seized old Donald Matera. His face broke into smile. He stood up and a poem titled ‘this land’ delivered him. The pace was slow and deliberate; the words issued in musical staccato and spoken in crystal clear Sophia Town diction. The poem shone in his eyes even as its words danced delicately on his gesturing hands. Out of the blue, the mountains and rivers of our land burst into the Ntuli living room to narrate the tragedies and the triumphs, the follies and the wisdoms; the promises and the problems of us, our predecessors, our offspring and our legacy. The poem spoke of South Africa as a land like no other – a country worth living in and a country worth living for.

You should have heard Pitika introduce and extroduce Don before and after the poem. Pitika spoke as if he was reading from an ancient book of prose lodged somewhere between his ears. Then out of the blue, Pitika ‘ambushed’ his nephew and demanded a poem. In a few seconds the young man delivered an enchanting poem that had a refrain in which Jesus Christ is called ‘a wonderful guy’, delighting the crowd immensely.

Three brilliant tributes to Antoinette left an indelible mark on my consciousness. ‘I am so glad that my wife was born’ said Pitika. Enough said. Then came the tribute from her son. ‘Whereas most teenage boys would have taken offence at being called ‘mummy’s boy’, I was proud of that appellation. I am happy to be the son of one of the greatest people in the world’, he said. ‘That’s my boy’, shouted Antoinette. ‘Mine too’, retorted Pitika. Not to be outdone, the legendary Hugh Masekela stepped forward and said; ‘In South Africa today, there are no more black people and no more white people – just people; and Antoinette is proof of that’.

The magnificent Lebo Mashile, arguably the pack-leader in contemporary South African poetry, performed briefly. Her stage presence is intoxicating. The words of her poems stand besides, behind, before, after, above, below and around one another like the million brush strokes that lie behind an exquisite oil painting. Born and steeped into African American English, this Mosotho woman is more than ‘just a colonized African who breaks down the queen’s language until Sesotho understands it’ as she declares tongue in cheek in a poem titled ‘ABCs’.

Lebo's poem was brief and powerful. It was about the person in us whom we let be and the person in us whom we won’t let be – the ‘me’ inside whom we will not allow to 'breathe on the outside'. She teased, probed, angered and stunned us with words that depicted the tragic life of the phenomenal persons banished to walk the deepest corridors of our minds. Few can match Lebo in her use of voice and emotion; her repertoire of facial expressions, her sudden changes of pace and volume, her amazing command of the queen’s language, her magician-like use of hand gestures and her ability to use her entire upper body to bob and weave like Muhammad Ali as she engages in the complex art of drawing verbal pictures.

Lebo Mashile’s brief poem made me think of the South Africa that lies buried in our souls – the brave and beautiful South Africa we will not allow to ‘breathe on the outside’ – a constant refrain to which Lebo returned again and again in her poem.

Being there, in that eminent company, amidst the wise words and the music, I was persuaded that Antoinette – whose birthday we were celebrating – was born at the right time. So have we been – born at the right time. We live in the right country. Ours is the time of great opportunities to change, re-shape, transform and envision a truly better country for all its citizens and the citizens of the world. These opportunities will not always be available and the window may be slowly shutting already.

It will be a pity if our leaders were to auction away our most valuable years to corruption, divisiveness, incompetence and a sheer failure to discern the meaning of this moment in our history. It will be an even greater pity if our citizenry outsources totally all leadership and all accountability to leaders in the political and economic spheres. It is not enough to vote, once every five years. It is not enough to complain and to blame. Tolerating corruption and incompetence is certainly unhelpful. Not only must citizens do better than divisive and corrupt leaders, they must at all times, hold these leaders accountable.

I bet not many birthday celebrations make you think this long and hard. Then again, Antoinette Ntuli is no ordinary woman. ©tinyiko sam maluleke