A close friend stunned me recently with his revelation that, as the oldest child in a single parent family, he lost his name early on, as his mother relied on him to take on the mantle of older brother with all the responsibilities that entailed.
No longer Peter or Pete or Pietie or Peetman, he became "Brother". Well, "Boeta" really. His "real" name just disappeared into the emotional mist that was his family. They needed a big brother who would lead, protect and discipline the rest of the siblings.
By the time we became friends, he'd taken to introducing himself as Peter, which I thought was pretty formal, no abbreviation or diminution. But it was his way of clawing back the identity he thought he'd lost as a young kid.
You're forever defined by nicknames. It's a theme Jane Morgan and her colleagues picked up in their book on the Origins and Social Consequences of Nicknames, writing about how nicknames contribute to class formation, defining members of a close-knit and privileged group in society. But they also reflect on how nicknames mark those who are the "untouchables or non-persons" in society, or scapegoats who are given pejorative names.
One young woman has become so exasperated with the variations on her Mandy - anything from Manda and Mands to Mandisa. She is especially outraged by Mandi-Pandi, considering, she says, that she is not a Mandi-Pandi type of person.
Nicknames say much about who you are seen to be in terms of skill, the lack thereof or personal traits. Even younger generations who've never seen their skill know about Doctor Khumalo, Ace Ntsoelengoe, Vinnige Fanie de Villiers, The Chief Radebe, Loop-en-Val Motshwarateu, Baby Jack Matlala, Mannetjies Roux, Zulu Klusener, Monty Montgomery, Biff Smith.
Ice hockey player Stu Grimson, who became known very quickly as the guy you could rely on to take out the opposing team's top scorer, was nicknamed "The Grim Reaper" by his team-mates. Some of my favourite nicknames have come out of the cricket-mad Indian sub-continent, including "Rawalpindi Express" Akhtar, "God on the off side" Ganguly and Pakistani duo "Sultans of Reverse Swing" Akram and Younis. Pele is a good example of a meaningless nickname, given to him by his mates for his mangling of the name of a top goalkeeper of an earlier era.
But, sometimes, a nickname adds real value. Take Tiger Woods. No self-respecting serial philanderer would be happy going around with his real moniker of Eldrick. No matter how much they covet your fortune, chicks will laugh. They will. But a "Tiger in the bed" may be another matter
Often, especially in the modern era, they are just a lazy play on one or other aspect of someone's given name, ala Feesh Fish and Polly Pollock, I do wonder why a certain syllable in a name is used and not another. For example, why does the name Raymond translate into the shorter Ray and not Mond, which may have an interesting nuanced meaning.
But I think they say much more about the people who name you. And dropping your nickname or the variation of your name imposed since birth or on the school playground may cause some problems in life, not unlike the looks you get if you adopt a fake foreign accent. That's how Gordon Sumner by any other name but Sting would be an offence to the world.
How would it sound if Danny Jordaan suddenly started introducing himself as Dan or Daniel? People would think he was putting on unnecessary airs. Try that kind of stunt in Die Gat down Standford Road in Gelvandale, Port Elizabeth, and you may get taken out for the right reason. Or keep introducing yourself as Allistair when everyone knows you are Tootie Coetzee, and whatever your team does on the field is just rubbish.
Of course, when it starts getting viciously bad, like Tollaman, you have to toss up whether you will stick with a name and a group, or give them all up and start a new life under an assumed identity, that's if your parents were that off-the-planet that they actually put Tollaman on your birth certificate, or Vleis, Engel, Baba or Liefie.
Nicknames have taken on a different meaning in the digital age, whether for online gamers or inveterate bloggers or chat room addicts, hiding the good, bad and ugly, the shy, the racist and the idiotic behind Baby, Goofy, Sparx, Hoer, Native, Pizzaface, Spud, Chillieboy, Bles, Dutchie, Barbi-babe, which are no mere handles but complicated alter ego personas constructed with intent.
It can be the ultimate diss, not being given a favourable nickname by your closest mates. This is why I said to my mate Peter that being named Boeta was the ultimate affirmation of his place in the world, and not one to be discarded too readily.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Grahamstown court debate needs facts not sentiment
A declaration: I have a huge amount of sentiment invested in Grahamstown. It is the place where a number of significant and formative events in my life played themselves out; it is here that many of my most enduring relationships were established; it is the site of my alma mater and the space in which some of my earliest critical ideas germinated.
I love this town. Yes, town, because while Grahamstown may qualify under a British definition of city, that it includes a cathedral and, by implication, the seat of an Anglican bishop, the reality is that this is no more than a large town. Another British definition holds that city status is conferred by the monarch.
And right there, perhaps, is the nub of the debate which has generated much heat in the large town of saints: that too many believe historical decree, providence or precedent mean Grahamstown is forever entitled to be the location of the seat of the High Court of the Eastern Cape.
History is certainly important as a factor in guiding us in taking appropriate decisions for today and for the future. But it is only one factor. And we cannot be held hostage by decisions that have been taken in former eras. Grahamstown must argue its case today, given current circumstances and the assumptions we are allowed to make about the future. The past is a limited reference point.
It is not enough, therefore, for Grahamstown to argue that it will be further disadvantaged as a result of the relocation of the seat of the court. It must show that the move is bad for the administration of justice and not in the interests of the majority of the people of the Eastern Cape. At the very least it must show that the negative consequences outweigh the benefits.
It is ironic that those most vehemently opposed to the relocation of the seat of the court to Bhisho are in academia and the legal fraternity, as they consistently fail to bring the rigour of their professional disciplines to bear on the debate. For example, thus far we have seen no research of any worth, nor any substantive arguments presented, which challenge folk wisdom or answer basic questions such as:
- How many people currently owe their livelihoods directly to the fact that the seat of the court is in Grahamstown?
- How many people, therefore, will be affected by the relocation of the seat from Grahamstown?
- How many legal practitioners – advocates and attorneys - will be displaced as a result of the relocation of the seat?
- What will be the cost of erecting new buildings or renovating existing ones to house those who administer justice at the new seat of the High Court in Bhisho?
- Of what real value is the proximity of the seat of the High Court to the university’s law faculty?
- What does Grahamstown offer which other towns or cities do not, to ensure that the seat remains on High Street in perpetuity?
Much of one’s responses to these issues may be intuitive but intuition is seldom an appropriate starting point in argument in court or in academic disciplines. I have tried to uncover what research underpins the positions. About the only source material to which I’ve been referred is economist Geoff Antrobus’s work from about 10 years ago which, while a valid study still, is somewhat dated, as Geoff would be the first to acknowledge.
Rhodes University’s Institute for Social and Economic Research which, I would have thought, would be the repository of data on Grahamstown’s economy, referred me to the local tourism office for information on how many bed and breakfast establishments owe their business to the work of the court. So, we have very little statistical information on which to base a decision which favours Grahamstown.
On the flip side, of course, Government has not covered itself in glory in failing to lay a solid basis for the move. I would have thought that, in order to be reassured that this political decision can be trusted, we should clearly understand what benefits may accrue. For example:
- How many cases are heard in each of the four divisions of the court in the Eastern Cape which have concurrent jurisdiction – Grahamstown, Bhisho, Mthatha and Port Elizabeth?
- How many appeals from the lower courts are heard in the High Court in the various centres?
- How is the administration of justice within the province negatively impacted by the fact that the seat of the High Court is in Grahamstown and not at the seat of the legislature, Bhisho?
- How many of the cases heard in Grahamstown emanate from far-flung parts of the province, creating difficulties for indigent litigants?
- Are people negatively disposed towards the administration of justice as a result of the location of the seat of the court?
- What benefits, if any, might there be to the entire province of moving the seat of the court eastwards?
- Will people’s perceptions of the administration of justice - if not the administration of justice per se - be enhanced through a relocation of the seat to Bhisho because of its centrality within the province?
The reality is that, whether it is a popular view in Grahamstown or not, we are one province and a political decision may well point to the competing stakeholder or constituency interests which Government has to balance. And much as it may stick in the craw of some, it will be apparent to any Constitutional Law 101 student that the Executive is entitled to take such decisions. An unhappy local populace may well, of course, decide to vote in new representatives when the time comes around.
The hoo-hah around the seat of the court ignores other anomalies in the administration of justice in the Eastern Cape, fundamental to the transformation of our society. These include the lack of a dedicated panel of Labour Court judges (bizarre, given our province’s strong industrial base and a largely unionised workforce) and the continued existence of the Southern Divorce Court (historically for black litigants, although this is finally set to change with increased powers going to the Magistrate’s Division).
But resolution of these issues requires sound reasoning. Sophisticated spin-doctoring (as we have seen on Grahamstown’s behalf), even sentiment - no matter how well-placed - are never adequate antidotes to compelling facts.
I love this town. Yes, town, because while Grahamstown may qualify under a British definition of city, that it includes a cathedral and, by implication, the seat of an Anglican bishop, the reality is that this is no more than a large town. Another British definition holds that city status is conferred by the monarch.
And right there, perhaps, is the nub of the debate which has generated much heat in the large town of saints: that too many believe historical decree, providence or precedent mean Grahamstown is forever entitled to be the location of the seat of the High Court of the Eastern Cape.
History is certainly important as a factor in guiding us in taking appropriate decisions for today and for the future. But it is only one factor. And we cannot be held hostage by decisions that have been taken in former eras. Grahamstown must argue its case today, given current circumstances and the assumptions we are allowed to make about the future. The past is a limited reference point.
It is not enough, therefore, for Grahamstown to argue that it will be further disadvantaged as a result of the relocation of the seat of the court. It must show that the move is bad for the administration of justice and not in the interests of the majority of the people of the Eastern Cape. At the very least it must show that the negative consequences outweigh the benefits.
It is ironic that those most vehemently opposed to the relocation of the seat of the court to Bhisho are in academia and the legal fraternity, as they consistently fail to bring the rigour of their professional disciplines to bear on the debate. For example, thus far we have seen no research of any worth, nor any substantive arguments presented, which challenge folk wisdom or answer basic questions such as:
- How many people currently owe their livelihoods directly to the fact that the seat of the court is in Grahamstown?
- How many people, therefore, will be affected by the relocation of the seat from Grahamstown?
- How many legal practitioners – advocates and attorneys - will be displaced as a result of the relocation of the seat?
- What will be the cost of erecting new buildings or renovating existing ones to house those who administer justice at the new seat of the High Court in Bhisho?
- Of what real value is the proximity of the seat of the High Court to the university’s law faculty?
- What does Grahamstown offer which other towns or cities do not, to ensure that the seat remains on High Street in perpetuity?
Much of one’s responses to these issues may be intuitive but intuition is seldom an appropriate starting point in argument in court or in academic disciplines. I have tried to uncover what research underpins the positions. About the only source material to which I’ve been referred is economist Geoff Antrobus’s work from about 10 years ago which, while a valid study still, is somewhat dated, as Geoff would be the first to acknowledge.
Rhodes University’s Institute for Social and Economic Research which, I would have thought, would be the repository of data on Grahamstown’s economy, referred me to the local tourism office for information on how many bed and breakfast establishments owe their business to the work of the court. So, we have very little statistical information on which to base a decision which favours Grahamstown.
On the flip side, of course, Government has not covered itself in glory in failing to lay a solid basis for the move. I would have thought that, in order to be reassured that this political decision can be trusted, we should clearly understand what benefits may accrue. For example:
- How many cases are heard in each of the four divisions of the court in the Eastern Cape which have concurrent jurisdiction – Grahamstown, Bhisho, Mthatha and Port Elizabeth?
- How many appeals from the lower courts are heard in the High Court in the various centres?
- How is the administration of justice within the province negatively impacted by the fact that the seat of the High Court is in Grahamstown and not at the seat of the legislature, Bhisho?
- How many of the cases heard in Grahamstown emanate from far-flung parts of the province, creating difficulties for indigent litigants?
- Are people negatively disposed towards the administration of justice as a result of the location of the seat of the court?
- What benefits, if any, might there be to the entire province of moving the seat of the court eastwards?
- Will people’s perceptions of the administration of justice - if not the administration of justice per se - be enhanced through a relocation of the seat to Bhisho because of its centrality within the province?
The reality is that, whether it is a popular view in Grahamstown or not, we are one province and a political decision may well point to the competing stakeholder or constituency interests which Government has to balance. And much as it may stick in the craw of some, it will be apparent to any Constitutional Law 101 student that the Executive is entitled to take such decisions. An unhappy local populace may well, of course, decide to vote in new representatives when the time comes around.
The hoo-hah around the seat of the court ignores other anomalies in the administration of justice in the Eastern Cape, fundamental to the transformation of our society. These include the lack of a dedicated panel of Labour Court judges (bizarre, given our province’s strong industrial base and a largely unionised workforce) and the continued existence of the Southern Divorce Court (historically for black litigants, although this is finally set to change with increased powers going to the Magistrate’s Division).
But resolution of these issues requires sound reasoning. Sophisticated spin-doctoring (as we have seen on Grahamstown’s behalf), even sentiment - no matter how well-placed - are never adequate antidotes to compelling facts.
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