The South African polis has
become a veritable minefield. Venturing an opinion has become difficult. One’s
legitimacy is under constant challenge, no matter which camp of the political
and social spectrum one resides in. No longer are debates held in a manner
where mutual respect, acknowledgement of each other’s perspectives, and
intelligent, evidence-based, ethics-based or morality-based arguments are
tendered. The decorum that the political elite once clung to – some would
legitimately say, obsequiously – has all but been flung out of the window. The
gloves have come off and been cast aside, seemingly for good; or at least until
something breaks and a transition of some kind follows in its wake.
When one takes stock of the
multiple dimensions along which crises are unfolding in South Africa, it is
difficult to avoid coming to the conclusion that the conditions for ‘polycrisis’ are present, and that this may lead to instability,
and possibly, collapse of one kind or another. What is certain is that South
Africa sits at a tipping point. The politics of disruption has quickly
entrenched itself within the South African polis. Yet to focus purely on the
disruptions themselves is to miss what is driving them. The causes of
discontent are easily obscured by the noise that accompanies the disruptions,
as well as the speed and frequency with which they occur in the era of
hypermedia.
It can be likened to focusing on
the activities of an internet troll; the sheer obscurity and outrageousness of
a troll’s behaviour – their offensive rants, and gaslighting and pivots when
challenged – make it difficult to identify the roots of their behaviour. Indeed,
this era is characterised by the paradox of radicalism without clear roots i.e.
radicalism for its own sake, for the attention it garners, or as an identity marker, but to dismiss
what is transpiring in South Africa today as simply a product of the global
trend towards this kind of rootless radicalism is too simple and cursory an
explanation. There are clear roots to the troubles that South Africa is
currently undergoing, and they are historical in nature.
Before discussing these roots,
however, it is important to outline the key issues around which South Africans
have become polarized.
South African organizations have largely failed to adequately transform over the past 22 years. While the state
itself has transformed, is demographically and gender transformed to a high degree (and generally well-qualified), private sector organizations, academia
and institutions of higher learning, as well as others (e.g. some civil society
spaces) have failed dismally in their transformation efforts. Historically
white private sector organizations and institutions have remained white, with
whites occupying senior positions in great majority. A recent 2017 report by the Employment Equity Commission found that in top management "68.5% of positions are occupied by white South Africans, 14.4% by black South Africans, 8.9% by Indian South Africans, and 4.9% by coloured South Africans. Foreign nationals make up 3.4%". Historically white universities and institutions of higher learning
have also failed in their transformation efforts.
The most tangible or explicit
result of the failure of transformation is that economic growth has not been
inclusive. Instead, South Africa – according to the World Bank – exhibits the
highest economic inequality in the world. South African cities exhibit even
greater economic inequality (as indicated by their Gini coefficients). Moreover,
this inequality is not only economic. It is multi-dimensional. Post-Apartheid
democratic South Africa is characterized by deep, historical material, social,
spatial and economic inequalities. It has not sufficiently overcome its past,
instead it has reproduced the very inequalities that many previously
disadvantaged and exploited peoples in South Africa expected would be
alleviated and reversed under democracy. Many black and brown South Africans
who experienced severe exclusion, dispossession and exploitation under
Apartheid now feel as though their exploitation is inter-generationally passed
on; their children are as unlikely to escape poverty, unemployment, lack of
mobility, inadequate access to services and so forth as they were.
The other, less tangible result
of the failures of transformation is that cosmetic change has served as an
obstacle to genuine actualization of diversity, which in turn has fostered
resentment and frustration among black and brown South Africans. Where black
professionals and the like have entered traditionally white institutions they
often feel patronized, overlooked, regarded as ‘token appointments’ and subject
to subtle – yet powerful – forms of institutionalized racism. This affects how
they experience their sense of belonging to these organizations as well as
their prospects for advancement within them.
Economic mobility has not
resulted in adequate social mobility, and the networks that operate behind the
scenes – and where great institutional power resides – remain exclusive ‘old
boys clubs’ that regulate access to opportunities for growth and advancement in
very much the same manner as they did historically. Class and race exclusion
overlap strongly in South Africa, but race always trumps class; professional,
middle class black and brown South Africans feel that they are not regarded as
equals amongst their white peers. They are paid less, expected to work more to
gain the same status, and are unfairly subjected to unwarranted skepticism,
subtle prejudice, and are often racially caricatured rather than accepted as
individuals.
It is difficult to argue with the
statistics and evidence that illustrate the overwhelming failure of
transformation, yet this does not prevent conservative and right wing groups
such as Afriforum from denying the privileged status they enjoy in South
Africa, and for laying the blame for lack of upward mobility of black and brown
people at their own doorsteps. Thinly veiled arguments are made that insinuate
that black people are lazy, entitled and merely jealous of the “haves”. In a
recent television interview, Ernst Roets of Afriforum – without any sense of
irony – strongly denied the existence of white privilege in post-Apartheid
South Africa, while at the same time arguing that white people were more likely
to be better qualified and therefore legitimately enjoyed disproportionate representation
in organizations. This is a consummate demonstration of precisely how systemic
racism and race bias is reproduced in post-Apartheid South Africa.
To add insult to injury, the
conditions under which many black and brown South Africans live – especially
the working classes and the poor – are characterized by; (1) high levels of
unemployment, (2) poverty, (3) precarious
household budgets, (4) high unemployment (especially severe among the youth), (5)
poor state education systems, (6) high levels of crime and violent crime in
particular, (7) gender violence and discrimination, (8) high levels of violence
and abuse of children, (9) the slow pace of land reform, (10) land tenure insecurity,
as well as (11) ridiculously large housing backlogs (current backlogs alone
will take about 40 years to meet under current social housing delivery rates in
most major cities). This list of factors is merely illustrative; an endless
list of social ills that characterize the everyday experience of most South
Africans, not all of which can be adequately accounted for here.
Early post-1994 efforts towards reconciliation
and cosmetic change ultimately stifled public expression, debate and engagement
over key issues and matters that were critical for long term nation-building. For
white South Africans reconciliation and cosmetic change meant that they did not
have to do any serious introspection about how they inhabited a society
historically governed by stark and brutal racial prejudice. The system was evil
and they were not. While this is true, in that most white South Africans are
not inherently evil or racially prejudiced in the sense of exhibiting overt
hatred towards black and brown people, the realities of the historical
advantages they enjoyed, the privilege and power they are automatically awarded
by virtue of the colour of their skin, and how the system and institutions of
racism manifest in micro-interactions in everyday life, essentially went
unchallenged, unarticulated and consequently, unaddressed. This has ultimately
worked against social cohesion and national unity.
In the late 1990s and early 2000s
young black professionals who sought to bring these dynamics into the open, to
air them so that they could be discussed and resolved in service of
transformation efforts, found themselves quickly ostracized and/or marginalized.
They were accused – sometimes openly, but more often than not in behind the
scenes conversations – of ‘rocking the boat’ or seeking to destabilize
organizations. Those who kept their heads down and didn’t ‘rock the boat’ got
ahead, because they played along with the farce without challenging the – often
predominantly white – senior managers and leaders of organizations.
Back then there were very many
black and brown people who were equally uncomfortable with raising issues that
may be regarded as contentious or difficult to deal with. Such is the South
African condition inherited from Apartheid; people are generally afraid of
confrontation and uncomfortable disagreements and discussions, so they try to
find consensus too quickly. They become uneasy when difficult questions are
posed. This is especially the case with white South Africans; their guilt
overwhelms most conversations about race, and they are so entirely unaware of
their primacy and centrality in these interactions – due precisely to inherited
privilege – that they blunder into them seeking to shut them down too soon, or to
gain quick and premature false agreement that temporarily keeps the peace but
leaves the issue festering in the background of affairs, waiting for another
day.
White guilt has proven to be a
massive obstacle to reconciliation in real terms. That curious phenomenon; one
that I’ve come to regard as ‘feeling guilty about not feeling guilty’ has stood
as an unmovable bulwark against transformation; one that absorbs and halts all
attempts at open and honest exchange around inherited privilege, systemic
racism, exclusion and how South Africa’s history has translated into the new
democratic dispensation. In its most ignorant manifestation it attempts to cast
current day South Africa as emanating from a post-1994 tabula rasa; as though
the slate was wiped clean of its history and the nation was made anew purely by
obtaining the vote and political power. White guilt is both superficial and
powerful at the same time; it skirts around the depths, refusing to enter into
it, yet at the same time it fortifies and entrenches privilege amidst a sea of
poverty, precarity and exclusion. It is, in that sense, a purely self-serving
phenomenon.
Fast-forward to today and all the
frustrations and tensions that were rendered latent in the post 1994 and early
2000s have mounted, accumulated and compounded into a wave of discontent that
has taken the nation by storm. Issues that were resident in the background of
affairs have now moved into the foreground, occupying disproportionate
attention in the minds of many. Yet to the marginal majority, for whom a
history of dispossession, exploitation, deliberate exclusion, overt and covert
racism has fed their suffering for generations, it isn’t that surprising that
the core issues that govern South African society have risen up and taken
centre stage.
In this environment, misinformation,
fake news, incendiary and polarizing rhetoric, hate speech and intimidation are
at an all-time high in South Africa, mirroring the global trend that has
brought about the rise of the alt-right, Brexit, the election of Donald Trump, and
electoral instability in many parts of the world. In very many cases these
narratives are artificially amplified and differences that reside in a society
are stoked by foreign-based information warfare styled ‘public relations’ firms
such as Bell Pottinger and Cambridge Analytica, as well as foreign intelligence
agencies and mercenary hacker groups. The goal is to create ‘chaos within the
ranks’ so to speak, so that their political and economic decision-making
processes can be manipulated. As a new global order is being contested new
scrambles for power, markets and resources are unfolding at the same time.
Yet while some of these
influences have no doubt had a significant impact on South African politics,
most tellingly the activities that Bell-Pottinger undertook in service of the
notorious Gupta family and the embattled ex-president of the republic Jacob
Zuma and his family, the fissures that were exploited have been resident in
South African society for a long time. It was easy to bring these fissures to
the surface, as after many years of frustration at lack of material
transformation and change – compounded by lack of service delivery and responsible
government – black and brown South Africans in particular have grown deeply frustrated
at their unchanging plight.
It is important to probe further
into why such polarizing and divisive politics and political trends have
manifested so quickly – and seemingly without warning – in South African
society. There is a streak that runs through the various contestations that
have arisen, and the politics that have accompanied them in the socio-political
realm. Whether these contestations revolve around the settlement that was
brokered in the transition to democracy, the policies of the post-Apartheid
democratic government, the deep inequities and inequalities that persist in
South African society, poverty and lack of service delivery, the failures of
transformation efforts in post-Apartheid South Africa, or frustration at
cosmetic change, and so forth, the seed is intimately linked to what is
breaking in South Africa today; and that is quite simply the pact over which
reconciliation was brokered. Simply put, South Africa’s reconciliation is coming
undone and is under intense scrutiny. This is itself informed by a strong sense
that historical justice has been sacrificed for political expediency and the
security of black and white elites at a great cost to those who suffered under
the Apartheid and colonial systems. As one young female activist recently put
it on a television news show,
“Without justice there can be no
reconciliation.”
The land issue, for example, is
essentially about historical justice; and it is perhaps the most visibly so. Yet
it is this pressing need for historical justice that runs through the core of
the disgruntlements that have pervaded the socio-political realm. Pretty much
every issue that has arisen and polarized the South African political spectrum
revolves around the need for historical justice. Whether it is about more
material developmental issues such as the land, housing, spatial inclusion,
service delivery, healthcare, education and poverty – or more political issues
such as the legacy of Nelson Mandela, the need for transformation, and the need
to establish new institutions that govern society and the social contract upon
which it rests – it is inescapable that the need for historical justice
underlies and underwrites these conversations. It is ever present in the
sub-text, and one does not even need to listen carefully to discern so; it is
inescapably present.
Other issues such as – the plight
of Jacob Zuma, the plight of traditional leaders, the EFF’s agenda, the
legitimacy of the BFLF’s tactics, or Cyril Ramaphosa’s leadership, ‘white
monopoly capital’, the push for decolonization of societal institutions, and
others – are framed in terms of the inadequacy of reconciliation and the need
for more to be done to ensure historical justice. And further contestation is
unfolding around whose perspective on historical justice is most legitimate, or
more precisely; whose perspective on what justice constitutes is most
legitimate. Whatever the issue of contention it is voiced mainly in relation to
the question of whether it is just or not. And for the most part, the question
of whether an issue is just or not is framed, almost exclusively, in terms of
its historical roots.
And as it is with history, it can
be rewritten to suit the needs of anyone who exists in the present. So it is no
surprise that unscrupulous and power-mongering leaders have selectively and
often dishonestly exploited these issues and tritely constructed partial
perspectives that serve to further their own agendas. And so the issues that
are central to the polarization of South African society today have come to be
heavily manipulated to serve whoever’s agenda it suits. The narratives that
have been constructed around the most hotly disputed and polarizing issues in South
African society selectively deploy ‘facts’ and ‘evidence’ as mere props, using
them selectively to construct an argument in favour of, or against. Evidence is
presented without any sense of rigour, attempt at objectivity, recognition of
subjectivity, or any sense of balanced analysis as it is commonly understood. Partial
perspectives have come to dominate the debate around what constitutes justice.
Moreover, the matter of who
counts more – or rather, who has counted more – in the transition to democracy
has opened up a public debate that has logically led to vociferous contestation
over the question of who should count
more. That is; who has legitimacy in the debate over justice and restitution. Over
the past five years or so this has increasingly been linked to the question of
who belongs in South Africa. That is;
a thinly veiled discourse is unfolding, one that masquerades as black
consciousness, but in fact argues for a programme of indigenisation and nationalisation. The Economic Freedom Fighters, and to a lesser extent Black
First Land First, have been at the forefront of these political movements. At
their core, their politics and the message that appeals to their base(s) revolves
around questions of historical justice and restitution; in particular, that
historical justice and restitution has not been achieved in post-Apartheid
democracy and that more radical action is required achieve it.
The ruling party, the African
National Congress, has also taken up the call for historical justice and
restitution, drawing it into the centre of political power in South Africa. This
has legitimized the matter significantly and the public debate around these
issues now attracts a broad range of actors and participants. Effectively,
questions of historical justice and restitution have now been mainstreamed, and
it is highly unlikely that these questions can be taken off the table, or moved
to the background now or in the foreseeable future. It is no exaggeration to
state that these are the issues upon which the future of politics in South
Africa rests. The question is how they will be handled, and what will come of
them.
Will the process of resolving
historical justice and restitution be accompanied by a thoughtful process of
national reflection, healthy debate and consensus building over what future to
actualize in the wake of our past - or will it be a programme that is
characterized by even deeper division, intimidation and fear mongering? Will it
result in inclusive economic growth and prosperity, or will it merely provoke
an avalanche of internal and external divestment and economic recession? It is
impossible to tell what route it will ultimately take, but what can be said
with a good measure of confidence is that the current socio-political climate
in South Africa augers no good. It will take very skilled leadership to turn
this ship around and set it on a course towards a more just and
socio-economically healthy destination. South Africa, after all, is a very
young democracy, and twenty two years into it, it is wobbling disturbingly. It
will require deep consideration of the issues that are holding it back, and
bold but patient and transparent leadership and engagement to steer it back
onto a positive trajectory.