I am a Mandela dissenter

I hate to admit it. In fact, it is probably dangerous to admit it. But I am. I really am a Mandela dissident! I have to confess to being more than a bit bewildered by the "proclamation" of "Mandela Day". As I am by the extraordinary zeal that there is, in his universal and international adoration.

Now, let me say immediately that of course he is a wonderful human being. Of course he is! And I have no doubt that these musings of mine will be swept aside on the tide of popularism, but these are some of the things which alarm me:

Firstly, I have a real problem with political and national deification. Analysis later on almost always proves the greatest heroes to be flawed, in one way or another. Think of the Churchills; the Malans; the Smuts's; perhaps even the Gandhis and the Nehrus. Time exposes them and their flaws lie there in ridged profile against the sky, for all to see. And what becomes completely clear, with the benefit of hindsight, is how time and context bound each of them are.

Secondly, popular opinion is a very unreliable test of sainthood. Hitler, after all, was an exceedingly popular man.

Thirdly. Have we forgotten the Arms deal? I think, somewhere down the line, when all the euphoria and adulation has died down, this single deal, under Mandela's presidency, will prove to be the source of a great deal of the poison in South African society today.

Fourthly, despite occasional, weak appeals to the contrary, a cult of personality (benign though it might be) has been allowed to develop - not only within the ANC, but within the country as a whole. And that, to my mind is going to be our great undoing. It is anathema to the ANC - or at least it was, during Oliver Tambo's time. And the fact that it is allowed - (and now more than encouraged, it is virtually institutionalised) is, (or at least should be) a very worrying development.

The result has been to take the sting out of ANC policy - and replace it with warm fuzzy feelings, while the crooks can just get on with their business. And is it not extremely strange that Mandela - the man - can somehow be divorced from the ANC as an organisation, in some sectors of the popular mind? Because it is one thing to love Mandela and call him "Tata". It is quite another to accept that his vision for the country is an ANC vision, and always has been. On the other hand, the annual hullabaloo about Nelson Mandela seems to have absolutely no impact on the divisions and ructions within the ruling party. Everything just carries on as it has before, after brief pause of tearful adulation.

Fifthly, I do not believe that one can heal either the racism endemic in our society, or issues of economic disempowerment, by creating fantasy all the time. That, after all, is what the 2010 FIFA World Cup was all about. We all walked around in a fantasy - the fantasy was that we all love each other and that we are all happy together; the fantasy was that we can all walk around at night in big cities in fancy dress, without looking over one's shoulder all the time.

Mandela is another fantasy. He is the fantasy that we all love each other and respect each other and do good for each other. He is the fantasy that we are a major player on the world stage and that the world gives a fig about us. He is the fantasy that personal sacrifice and hardship will do good to everyone generally.

So we can love Mandela and underpay our workers. We can love Mandela and be an unconverted racist on every other matter. We can love Mandela and steal the state coffers blind. We can threaten and kill foreigners who come from other African countries and ignore the fact that Graca Machel comes from Mozambique. We can do it, because we can hoist the fantasy - and everyone will be so busy cheering and waving flags in an orgy of patriotism and fuzzy feeling that they don't see the wood for the economic trees.

Lastly, and in this regard, I don't think that Nelson Mandela can take very much credit for the fundamental task of changing the lot of the poor in this country. Yes, he got Oprah to build an elite school here, and other rich people to donate towards this hospital and that child clinic there. But the lot of the poor remains - to this day - mostly unchanged. That is Mandela's other legacy.

Low Tech Anti-hijack device

Spotted in Johannesburg, Thursday 22 October 2009

Our Canadian Refugee

A friend of mine, whom I visited yesterday in Johannesburg wondered why on earth there was so much publicity, here, around Brandon Huntley – the 31 year old “crime refugee”, who has somehow managed the Refugee board in Canada to believe his ludicrous stories about being repeatedly and violently attacked by black South Africans. I think the reason is simple.

No-one is going to claim that there is no violence in our society. No-one is going to claim that there is no racism in our society. And no-one is immune from either of those. And, I suppose, there is no comparison between Canada and South Africa in that regard. But the issue is this. We have come through an extremely violent history. An extreme, one-sidedly racist, violent history. And that violent racism was honed to perfection, not by black people, but by whites. It cannot be a surprise – not even to Canadians – that there are consequences to that history.

And the thing is, the transfer of power from a violent, racist minority, to the remarkably democratic majority has been unbelievably peaceful. That has been the reality for white South Africans. By and large, white people are still living in luxury; they still have access to the best education; they still have jobs, and salaries and cars and bank accounts. That is the reality.

So, to base one’s claim on a fiction, is not only outrageous, it is profoundly disingenuous and extremely disturbing. That is why his case has evoked such anger. (Of course, those people who have actually been criminalised or attacked have come out in support – but they would be extremely unwise to see this man as their mouthpiece.)

After first trying to get citizenship through marriage, his next alternative was to paint himself as a victim. But he does so with no regard for anything but his own wellbeing and his own extremely selfish needs and wants.

There is an interesting article in today’s “Star” newspaper, where social historian Patric Tariq Mellet, who apparently shares common ancestry with Huntley, says that both he and Huntley descend from a woman of colour – Francina van der Kaap. She was great-great grandmother to both of them.

And so it is for most of us so called “white” South Africans. It is certainly the case for me and my family, and I tried to capture some of that sort of story in my recent novel. We all share a common history. We all share a common heritage. It is not something from which any of us can easily escape. Rather than trying to escape it, surely the challenge is to make our future safe and secure for everyone? Democracy, and the long struggle which that entailed, has made that future a real possibility.

My novel:
Remittance Man by Michael Worsnip, UKZN press, Pietermaritzburg, 2007