“Go tell that fox!” A Christmas piece appearing in local newspapers this weekend

“Go tell that fox!” A Christmas piece appearing in local newspapers this weekend

By Ray Hartle

It's not the time to be jolly; it's time for serious reflection on the state of our country. That's the gist of the message of the Christian clerics who issued a statement challenging the morality of South Africa's leaders - and they fingered political and business leaders as being a big part of the breakdown in values.

Of course the ANC-led government of Jacob Zuma was having none of the Christian criticism. To date, I have not seen the business sector reject the censure - a case of 'if the cap fits, wear it'?

For those of us wishing to be 'heppie heppie' for the festive season, it is perhaps unfortunate that Mangaung happened a few days before Christmas. Had the ANC elective conference taken place in the middle of winter, say, and had the religious leaders felt constrained to call for a new, morally upright corps to lead the ruling party, perhaps the sober message would have been better received by many of us.

By the same token, it's fair to say that the Old Testament prophets would have had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into the New Testament. No Good News town criers, these. They were a miserable lot, although tough-as-teak - and with good reason. If a big part of your job is keeping your fellow citizens in check and they're intent on going down in history as God's chosen but disobedient people, you've got to have hair on your teeth. Get used to being called party poopers wherever and whenever you happen to find yourself; even as you try to prepare them for the coming of the Messiah, who will restore God's kingdom. 

Miserable lot or not, the birth of Jesus Christ as re-told by the writers of the Christian gospels is always reflected upon in churches at Christmas-tide with reference to the words of the prophets who lived hundreds of years before. Partly this is so because, amazingly, they got the circumstances of Jesus's birth so spot on. Their utterances also provide a neat set of juxtapositions against which to pitch the teachings of Jesus during his short ministry. Not that the prophets got any of it wrong. They were spot on, again. But their understanding, for example, of a warrior king leading his people to freedom was different from how Jesus envisioned his role.

Thirdly, I think it’s necessary to keep the prophets’ overview of the dark times in which they lived – their admonishments and heart-wrenching tales of broken humanity - alongside the glorious celebration of Christ the Messiah being born among us, God living with us.

In this sense, the binary of good and evil is established, as is darkness with light, death with life, sadness with great joy, in keeping with TS Eliot’s verse: “I believe the moment of birth is when we have knowledge of death; I believe the season of birth is the season of sacrifice.”

My favourite prophet, Amos, rails against those who lack compassion, abuse the poor and needy, deny justice to the oppressed, plunder and loot, take bribes, hike prices and even use dodgy scales to weigh the daily produce. His word to the people is: watch out, the day is coming when all this will change.

Then there is Mary, young and unmarried, whose song of celebration upon hearing that she is pregnant with Jesus, is rich with the imagery of God’s justice: he has scattered the proud... brought down the mighty... exalted the humble... filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.

Most religions – even the humanistic faith of philosphers down the ages - can agree on the need to take care of the downtrodden and oppressed, although religious faith is never a pre-requisite for good deeds.

But, if you're looking for an easy religious sop this Christmas, the Jesus Christ whose birth we celebrate now, is not that. His is a much tougher option. He made social justice a key part of his message of individual salvation.

Foxy President Jacob Zuma is lucky, he only has to endure the criticism of mere mortal church leaders, who confess their own flaws and sins even as they bring against him a charge that his government is corrupt and self-serving. He is no Herod, the ruler of Israel-Palestine, who had to face the wrath of Jesus himself, far removed from the gentle and mild imagery we associate with "Away in a Manger".

The Gospel writer Luke records Jesus tearing into Herod. Jesus had been under sustained pressure for usurping the accepted roles of religious and secular leaders. Some pharisees, unhappy that he was healing people on the Jewish Sabbath, came to him warning him of Herod's plan to kill him. Jesus did not mince his words when he said:

“Go tell that fox, ‘I will drive out demons and heal people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal'."
Go tell that fox. Damn, that’s the thing with Jesus. He’s always sending us into tough situations when we want to relax at home, telling us to speak out against bad people when we want to catch a quiet 40 winks, calling us to go to the rugged cross with him when we just want to stay here unwrapping the Christmas gifts next to this other, prettier tree.

Our country continues on a downward spiral as a result of the failure of leaders in many spheres, as a result of your and my complicity in bad decisions, as a result of our active lying and thievery, our abuse of the downtrodden, in treating the poor as if they are not fully human, in hiding taxes and even using dodgy calculators when we pay our workers, in the disgust we heap on women and children, the murderous comfort we bring to our elderly, our poor ethic of work and service and our inability to get beyond the other’s race and our own.

In all these things, Jesus Christ the Messiah judges us, stands willing to forgive us; heals us and empowers us to go forth and heal our country.

That’s the full message of Christmas for our country this year. This is both the season of misery and the season of re-birth. And, that’s what makes it possible for Christians to celebrate; be jolly even.

* Hartle is a journalist and writer based in the Eastern Cape.

Ends

Makgoba on miners' legal costs, role of Church

BY RAY HARTLE
Anglican Archbishop of Cape Town Thabo Makgoba says President Jacob Zuma must ensure that miners and their families who were victims of the Marikana shootings are provided with legal support.

Makgoba, who was speaking during a conference of the Anglican Church of Southern African in Johannesburg, has written to Zuma stating that the Commission of Enquiry into the shootings must be seen to be acting justly.

He  said the government was financing the costs of the commission as well as the legal representatives of the police officers who will appear before it.

"However, it seems that similar legal support is not being equally extended to the miners themselves nor to the families of those who lost their lives.

"I am deeply troubled at the message of apparent inequality this decision can be seen as conveying," he wrote to Zuma.

Makgoba also called on Christians in legal practice to offer their services on a pro bono basis to the miners and their families.

On the role of the church in society, he said:

"We need to reclaim our voice. I went to Marikana out of love because I believe in the dignity of each person and because the environment is crying (out for a response from us)."

Makgoba acknowledged that in South Africa, the Anglican church faced many internal crises, including a dispute between the bishop and cathedral parishioners in the Diocese of Pretoria which has reached the High Court.

Many also felt the church had been slow in recognizing the ministry of women and in dealing with the needs of those in same sex civil unions.

"These are challenges but it shows that the church is alive and is not immune to what is happening in society. It is important to see how we allow God's love to move us even in the midst of those problems."

Makgoba said the Anglicans Ablaze conference reflected "a synergy of positive energies within our church" with people of contrary worship and theological positions coming together.

"We should bring whatever challenges we have into this milieu and grow together as Anglicans. 

Makgoba said that despite the diversity among Anglicans, certain "fundamentals" such as "breaking bread together", kept the church together.

Commenting on the appointment of a successor to Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, Makgoba said the global church faced major issues including new human identities and degradation of the environment, which required ongoing strong leadership.

Being Archbishop of Canterbury was "an impossible job. If you really believe that you are only a conduit for the grace and love of God, it is do-able.

"I hope that whomever becomes archbishop will take up where (Archbishop Williams) ended, inject theological strength into our debate, yet know that there are no easy answers. 

"As an archbishop (the next incumbent) needs to create an enabling environment for people to really live what it means to be an Anglican in the beauty of our diversity."

Standing in the gap for a faltering, useless State

Is the Church called to 'stand in the gap' for a faltering, some may say useless State?

Day 2 of Anglicans Ablaze conference in Johannesburg, drawing together Anglican Christians from all the corners of the Anglican Church of Southern Africa including Mozambique, Swaziland, Lesotho, Namibia, Angola, St Helena and Tristan de Cunha.

It's the biggest gathering of Anglicans in the region ever. An opportunity for meeting new people from places we're unlikely to visit, laughing, talking, learning, worshiping and visioning.

Opening the conference, Archbishop Thabo Makgoba reminded us of Desmond Tutu's statement after SA achieved democracy: ‘Now we can get back to truly being church!' But, asked Makgoba, "what does it mean for us to be truly church, in our new circumstances?"

I've been reflecting on the Old Testament prophet Ezekiel's words about finding people who could assist in building up the walls of Jerusalem and stand in the gap to protect the city. And I think that is exactly what the church in southern Africa is called to do - to stand in the gap. But in our contexts, it means standing in the gap for a rapacious, failing state. 

That state my appear as an upwardly mobile Frelimo party in Mozambique which, having left behind the revolutionary ideals espoused by Samora Machel, has been unable to bring about economic change to ordinary citizens. It may exhibit the reactionary and oppressive features of a Swaziland state. 

Or it may display the lack of leadership, the absence of creative ideas and solutions, but the presence of self-importance and greed and looking after themselves of the South African state, which appears to be failing on most, if not all fronts.

Standing in the gap may not mean simply taking over the role of the state, although where the state is failing to feed, to educate, to heal, to protect, the church MUST play that role.

But, increasingly, it must mean standing up against oppressive behaviors, speaking out on the things that people, leaders especially, are doing that are wrong. There's a nice synonym for 'things that are wrong' but people try to avoid using it because it's no longer regarded as politically or rationally correct. Sin.

The church has to take a stand against the sin of the failing states in southern Africa. And stand in the gap for God, who brings healing to a broken, divided, poverty-stricken and joyless world.

Jesus was the one revolutionary who didn't lay down the fight for justice, equality and peace in 1994 when South Africa became a democracy. And we're called again to stand in the gap for and with him.

I think that's what it means to be truly church.

GM Grahamstown dealership the pits

For all it's great delights especially at festival time, don't ever come to Grahamstown with a GM vehicle that may require emergency servicing - because the local dealership, Kenrich Motors is the pits.

And the dealership's poor service is inversely proportional to the size of dealer principal Dean Kent's ego.

A friend's Chevy Spark broke down on the first weekend of the fest. It required numerous queries to fully ascertain what steps the dealership was taking to properly diagnose the problem.

Ten days later - and 3 days after the mass exit from town at the end of the festival - she was still waiting for her car to be released, despite commitments from Kent right down to the hour the job would be done.

This mechanical fiasco necessitated additional logistics arrangements that cost around R4000, apart from the emotional trauma of waiting around with no certainty about what's going on.

A complaint to Kent elicited a rant about my "pompous attitude" and that he really didn't "give a damn".

I'm hoping that GMSA cares enough about it's brand and customer experiences to slap down a dealer who shows scant regard for either.

But then again, perhaps I shouldn't hold my breath.

From the NAF - Mafeking Road takes you right past Bosman zani-ness

Presented by The Pink Couch. Directed by Tara Notcutt

Any “serious” reader of Herman Charles Bosman’s stories of the Groot Marico knows only too well how totally zany the characters and situations are – in a tightly-buttoned-up-like-a-dominee-at-Sunday-morning-nagmaal kind of way.

So, despite their slow start, I warmed to Andrew Laubscher and Mathew Lewis’s depictions of life on that other planet. It soon becomes a rapid gallop through Bosman’s best stories; thankfully the audience doesn’t have to endure the stultifying rendition of all 176 verses of Psalm 119, as the congregation had to in The Bekkersdal Marathon.

Bekkersdal is just one of many stories from Bosman’s collection given a modern technological twist and a physical interpretation. Andrew and Mathew flit from one character to another and their antics will leave you breathless. I thoroughly enjoyed the production and the ovation the duo received was well-deserved.

- RAY HARTLE

From the Drama Fest - Bantustan retro brings us right into the present

Presented by Lubikha Theatre Project, written by Michael Lubisi and directed by Darlington Michaels

I really concentrated throughout this drama because I was concerned to find some – any – redeeming feature about the production. But, a poor script, an unclear story line and “hamateurish” acting put the kibosh into my efforts to find something meaningful to say.

The play has a good idea, examining the role of Charles Sebe in his half-brother Lennox’s despotic Ciskei bantustan regime. Charles is at once depicted as a bastard, a buffoon, someone seeking intelligent discourse, a man psychologically hobbled by his place in his own family and the political pecking order, as well as the physical scars of previous military skirmishes.

But it rambles on. Characters are not clearly drawn. There is no scene coherence and some of the acting is just appalling. There is the odd moment worth salvaging. Like the presentation of the bicycle gift from Pretoria to Ciskei – with a flat black tyre representing Zwelitsha and a missing front tyre a metaphor for Mdantsane,

Ultimately, however, I realise that the value of Bantustan is in showing up the idiocy and political intrigue driving some of the behaviours of the current ruling party, behaviours that mimic those of despotic regimes like the Sebes we thought were long behind us.

Few in the audience would come away without reflecting on the struggles being waged today by poor, homeless and unemployed South Africans and the feeding trough insensitivity of the leaders for whom they voted.

This is a return to our struggle, showing us where we’ve been and the difficult road we traversed to 1994. Senzeninam – “What have we done as a black nation to the cries for liberation and democracy?”

Except for that vote, this is no different to being disenfranchised and consigned to a homeland outside South Africa’s borders, contending with Machiavellian politicians who turn too easily to teargas and rubber bullets as a means of responding to legitimate demands.

There are more productions on offer this year than in any year since democracy which remind us of where we’ve come from in relation to the state of our politics today. Three Little Pigs does that perfectly. Bantustan does it inadvertently - and anything but perfectly.

I thought perhaps Bantustan could be tightly re-written and, with stronger direction, could offer us a good perspective on an interesting moment in our struggle history. But I think members of Lubhika Theatre Project should simply be given free tickets to view other works at the festival, so that they can begin to re-hone their craft.

- RAY HARTLE

From the Student Drama Fest - Tweet, the Musical

Presented by The Waterfront Theatre School, directed by Paul Griffiths with music and lyrics by Roland Perold

While not original – the impact of technology on our human interaction has been top-of-mind of creative artists for decades now - the concept driving Tweet – The Musical is a good one: Human beings may be connected in cyberspace via technology, but we’re losing the ability to look into each other’s eyes and connect in the real world.

The Waterfront Theatre School in Cape Town is the only dedicated facility offering the three-pronged disciplines of musical theatre - drama, dance and singing. Tweet – The Musical is the school’s first foray into the National Arts Festival and director Paul Griffiths and composer-lyricist Roland Perold have played it safe, offering a Broadway-style original musical which plays to the natural and taught strengths of the cast.

The characters operate in a narrow band, where they are defined by what they project onto social networking sites. But they’re Tweeting and Facebooking on their own into a void where their communications are reciprocated by similarly uni-dimensional “friends”. And, they all lack the necessary skills to connect face-to-face. The characters, perhaps intentionally, are not fully drawn, but from cyber-stalker to online guru to vacuous debutante they are not far removed from those we encounter online every day.

Given this soul-less and disconnected world, the characters initially believe that the only solution may be pulling the plug on their online excursions, but Tweet offers a glimpse into a middle ground where cyber and real connections may exist side-by-side. And it does so without becoming didactic.

Notwithstanding rather weak material, the cast’s characterization and musical abilities shone, taking control of the stage and drawing the audience in. Mikhail Jones, in particular, offered a voice and personality which made a strong impression. I thought that more effort could have gone into the choreography, given the movement and physicality exhibited in other student productions on offer this year. But that is a minor weakness. As was the volume on the piano, which drowned out the lyrics of the songs and made it difficult initially to follow the story line.

The Tweet theme is one to which the youthful cast can relate. Young people, after all, are most confronted by the demands and opportunities of the cyber world. I wonder then, why Griffiths and Perold have gone for a musical era with which few young people – I would suggest – can relate. Where was the thumping, in-your-face hip hop lyrics or house and electro-synthetic pop music?

Perhaps next year? Because I have no doubt that an accomplished performance from these young students must establish a platform for their return.

- RAY HARTLE

Shows to watch on Thursday, at NAF in Grahamstown.

I’m easing into the day with a family theatre production A Tale of Horribleness at 10am at Princess Alice Hall.

Then I’m seeing a UKZN production at midday of Mob Feel, an examination of gang rivalry and ethnic violence in Joburg in the 1950s.

There’ll be no graveyard shift after lunch today unless you want to end up as dinner for the wolf in The Three Little Pigs, described as a taut, subversive adaptation of the children’s story.

At 4pm, I’ll attend Plasma, brought to Grahamstown by Izandla productions, which looks at parenting – or the lack thereof - in a cyberspace era.

In the Rhodes University production, Intranceit 2012, The Memory of Water, which I’ll see at 6pm, three sisters gather following the death of their mother and look back on their lives.

Master of the Café Society at 10pm is the Steven Berkoff story of one man’s inability to rise beyond his shortcomings.

My first jazz jam is at 11.30pm at DSG and will set me up perfectly for a hectic round of sessions over the weekend.

I have a special date at 8pm Thursday to watch Tweet - The Musical from the Waterfront Theatre School in Cape Town. Directed by Paul Griffiths, it looks at cyber and real connections between people. One of the Tweeters is Rebecca Hartle. Should be fun but don't expect an objective review on this page.

It starts with what you know

How to decide what you want to see and do at the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown? There are more than 2000 events ranging from drama, dance and physical theatre to music, comedy and exhibitions, from the serious discussions at ThinkFest to the moving experiences of SpiritFest.

Split between a Main festival which carries the nod of support of the arts patrons in public and private sectors - and a fringe, where anything goes - if your stomach or other sensitivities can take it. And on a tight budget, nogal.

Are you in the mood for some hectic life lessons? There are 90 productions listed on the drama programme, which include works by the best writers in their field and showcasing world class acting skills.

Want to escape the cold realities of your life and tickle your funny bone? Dip into a couple of the 60 zany plays and standup comedy shows on offer.

The winter chills may also be chased away by any of the many physical theatre or dance productions.

And then there's music. Jazz and soul and jazz and orchestral and jazz and choral and jazz and hip pop and jazz and acoustic and jazz and Broadway and jazz and traditional and jazz and acapella and jazz and opera and jazz and pop and jazz and jazz and jazz.

If all of this confuses you, a good place to start is to go with what or who you know, or with the flow of where the crowds are headed.

What you know may include a Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare, Louis Armstrong and some friends, the world premier of Athol Fugard's The Blue Iris, George Pemba's art, Zackie Achmat and Ahmed Kathrada on the ThinkFest, Pieter Dirk Uys, Nicholas Ellenbogen, Rob van Vuuren, Arno Carstens, Richard Cock, Eastern Cape Rhythms, the Bala brothers and Andy Narell.

Certainly, the crowds will be following them too.

But don't discount the newbies - too many too mention. Often, their productions create the hits at festivals, on the back of word-of-mouth buzzing.

"No name" Eastern Cape brands at festival opening

I wish I knew the names of all the groups which were the first to tread the boards at this year's National Art s Festival in Grahamstown. I think they're all outstanding Eastern Cape performers. At least, I think they're all from the Eastern Cape. They were all outstanding.

A youth big band with a swinging brass section and a vibrant dance troupe performed outside the Monument against a stunning, crisp winter sunset. Giant puppets jived and played amongst the audience gathering for the official opening in the Guy Butler theatre. One of the dancers told me as they rushed into the relative warmth of the Monument foyer that they were from Mdantsane near East London, but attempts to confirm this with Eastern Cape government officials hosting the opening were fruitless.

Inside, one might assume that, on the stereotyped face of it, the audience might not appreciate the langarm-sakkie-sakkie played by a three-piece outfit. But the crowd goes ballistic at the sound of Kurt Darren's "Loslappie". There is no mention of this band or the one outside throughout the programme, a shortcoming I point out to MEC for Sport, Recreation, Arts and Culture, Ms Xoliswa Tom, afterwards as a missed opportunity to boast about our talents.

At the end, the Eastern Cape Indigenous Dance and Music Ensemble provided a tableau of precise rhythm and movement with sounds against the backdrop of a rather potted - and suspect - history of some of the people who inhabit South Africa.

The group of 52 performers reflected the diversity of Abathembu, Amampondo, Amagaleka, Amabhaca, Amakhati, Khoisan and Indian groups, with musical and dance forms that included foot stomping, animal-like movement, a wide variety of traditional instruments and singing. The performance was interspersed with a random sprinkling of historical anecdotes, including Mahatma Gandhi's arrival in South Africa and the birth of the ANC as reflections of our struggle towards "the happy ending" of a united nation.

I wonder about all the other cultural and religious strands which are part of our national DNA. Is there a recognition that not all the strands in our heritage are gifted musically and rhythmically? I'm told the group assembled for the first time 10 days ago in Uitenhage, so perhaps the shortcomings in its presentation are forgivable.

Not so, those of the director of ceremonies who, by his own admission, was so appalling that he risked being fired from his day job in the provincial department of Sport, Recreation, Arts and Culture. Considering the amount of money that government spends on the arts, surely it's possible to inveigle one of our pre-eminent artists to do this annual gig of fronting the festival opening for next-to-nothing, if not for free.

The entertainment was interspersed with speeches by the Premier of the Eastern Cape, Ms Noxolo Kiviet and other officials, reflecting the policy and financial efforts government is making to ensure sustainable growth in our cultural outputs in the Eastern Cape.

These efforts are substantial and their successful effects are everywhere in this year's National Arts Festival programme and even in the entertainment laid on for this official opening, which makes the failures of the opening stand out like a sore thumb.

The successes include, said Kiviet, the transformation of the festival initiated in 1974 by a foundation committed to preserving the culture and heritage of the 1820 Settlers in South Africa, into an event that reflected the diversity that characterizes our South African-ness.

Kievit noted that some poor people in Grahamstown had a seasonal and once a year opportunity for employment during the festival.

Grahamstown - the lull between term and fest

End of university term and not yet start of festival week.
Grahamstown in this inbetween time is always a strangely enjoyable place. It's that lull between the flight of the Rhodes University students from campus and town, and the descent of the artists and audiences to take up their places and spaces.
The frenetic edge is gone during this lull. There is space to breathe and think and walk. You don't have to fight your way into the pub for a quiet drink, although you wonder that the service is a bit poor - maybe the hungry hordes queueing to get in on a busy term or festival night actually ratchet up service levels. The locals get a chance to take back the streets and the shopping malls, aware that their re-occupation is a temporary one and that their patronage alone cannot sustain the economy.
The posters have not gone up yet. You can still see the walls of buildings, sidewalks, trees - dull and bland, guaranteed not to distract you as you walk along from anywhere in the city.
But it can't last. It's 24 hours before the curtain goes up on the first of some 2000 performances between Thursday morning, June 28 and Sunday evening, July 8. This town is beginning to hum again. The early bird productions which have been setting up since the weekend have been joined - overnight - on the streets, in the venues, residences and on the lampposts by scores of fellow artists. Today, the serious festinos will start trekking into town and the lull will be properly over. And South Africa's biggest gathering to enjoy, appreciate, applaud, hear, critique, reflect on or dismiss the offerings of our artistic community will be well and truly undErway.
Grahamstown is the better for it. And so is our country.

Let's share the pains of our past

It is a painful reality that, just beneath the skin, so many of our compatriots exhibit such naked racism when they're scratched even a bit lightly. One of the reasons for this, I believe, is that we have not allowed each other the space to share the pain we carry of our past.

Following the Truth and Reconciliation Commission process, we dusted ourselves off and got on with practical things in the country, rather than dealing with “soft” issues of how apartheid made us feel - black and white. These many issues remain a challenge, brought into sharp relief by The Spear.

Most of us South Africans have been keen in recent weeks to exercise our right to freedom of expression, saying just exactly what we feel about everything that disturbs us about our country, whether it reflects ethnocentrism, patriarchy, paternalism, sexism, racism. And generally, it’s good that this discussion continues. But, perhaps occasionally, we should mind our words and avoid the devastation that some of our expressions – whether in verbal, physical or painted form – cause.

We have also been keen to conflate things, such as the dignity of Jacob Zuma the person and the office of the president, or whether calling a member of a political party or of a race category a predator of any kind means that we regard all members of that party or race as predators.We have ignored context – both the context of seeing an individual’s dangling penis against that person’s self-expression of his sexuality, as well as the context of how the naked black form, especially the naked black penis, has been a part of our racist colonial past.

We have been keener still in the latest round of our race discourse to limit the extent to which we allow one another to say things about the other. It's clear that we have developed the habit of shutting each other down because of a mistaken idea that if we are black we cannot have anything meaningful to contribute towards an understanding of being white, and vice versa. And when we have the courage to speak, those ranged against us intuitively agree that our act of speaking has been inherently racist. Some people believe the right to speak on a subject – whether freedom of speech, African tradition or the pain of our past and present - belongs only to them.

If there was a failing in the TRC hearings, it was that not all stories could realistically be told. But maybe we should have devoted time and resources to hearing the stories of disenfranchisement, of removals of ordinary people and the forced sales of their properties, of dislocation, of job preferences and direct or covert abuse in the workplace, stories of being undressed both physically and metaphorically, of being allowed only to occupy certain spaces in the parks and suburbs as well as in the social intercourse, of being shut up and shut out.

It seems to me that the biggest challenge is our inability to accept one another’s humanity, when we don’t know each other’s story and even when we do.

I believe that it is time to return to a TRC style method of talking.South Africa is ripe for a movement of ordinary people who will commit to each other, who will begin to see beyond particular racial identities, who will get to know and understand and enjoy each other in the fullness of all the identities we carry and not just the race signifier, who will work together to lay a platform for a new and renewed national project to build this country for all our children.

I am certainly not arguing for a non-racial veneer which masks the deep racial make-up of our society. The politics and the economics of race – reflected inter alia in ownership of wealth and access to opportunity to create it - are very real and very painful throughout our country.But we do need to begin to hear each other’s stories, both the traumatic historical experiences of overt and legal racism, and the stories of exclusion today, despite a constitution which is the envy of the world.

And then, instead of merely carping about our problems, we may realise our role in putting forward real solutions which recognize the humanity of all of us, and our rights and responsibilities in terms of the Constitution.

That our State fails us in myriad ways is something we all can agree on to a greater or lesser extent. And, while we may have partisan agendas in respect of some issues and argue them vigorously, on others we surely can agree that, regardless of our race, our gender, our age, our language, or any other way we may choose to define ourselves, we share a common purpose in bettering our society.

Until we do accept our shared humanity, we cannot comprehend the possibility of an “average” South African, imbibed with a set of values and aspirations shared by the vast majority of us, who abhors crime, who desires to live in peace with all people, but who will take up arms to safeguard kin and country, who wishes to protect all our children, who will take care of the downtrodden and marginalized, who will not let the sun set on an injustice.

Our political leaders across the spectrum have shown themselves patently incapable of galvanising our country towards that non-racial ideal, taking forward the forging of a common South African identity. And so perhaps it is time for civil society and especially for faith communities to take the leading role in moving our society forward. Instead of merely continuing to talk about what is wrong with our country, we must begin the real work of changing things in ways big and small, but primarily in small ways, because that’s where you and I can make a difference in each other’s lives.

Desmond Tutu last year very effectively dealt with the race-infused standoff between Trevor Manuel and Jimmy Manyi. I am coloured, said Tutu, referring to his gnome, the formal scientific link to the San. Typically, there was a response about Tutu’s dishonesty in trying to appropriate a San identity to which he is not entitled.

But there is an existential component to what Tutu said. It continued the thoughts of Steve Biko, who wrote on blackness and being black as a state of mind, a political construct. It’s about saying, I am you. I want to put myself in your shoes, in your footsteps. I want to understand and experience and know what it is to be you, so that when you hurt, I hurt, when you are overjoyed, I am full of joy.

** First published in Weekend Argus 27.05.2012

Vavi guilty of arrant racial stereotyping

White men “specifically” are the worst kind of regressive lawyers to inhabit our judiciary. Black people, on the other hand - men and women - are stunningly progressive and represent a calibre of humanity which it will be hard-pressed to find anywhere in our part of the planet.

This reading of Cosatu general secretary Zwelinzima Vavi’s comments may appear extreme, but it is apposite as a reflection of his gross racist stereotyping.

Speaking at a National Association of Democratic Lawyers (Nadel) function in Mthatha recently, Vavi said that more opportunities must be created for black legal practitioners, especially women, to enter all sections of the legal profession.

Nothing wrong with that; nor with his assertion that “in addition to addressing representivity in terms of race and gender, the judiciary as a whole should reflect a working class bias that is pro-poor and pro-development”.

But Vavi goes further in urging Nadel to ensure that transformation is accelerated “more specifically”, so that “eventually the bench of every court in the country is packed with progressive lawyers”.

If we were mistaken to understand from his comments that transformation to ensure progressive legal appointments equates to the appointment of only black lawyers, Vavi establishes the nexus between race and mindset very clearly when he tells Nadel that law graduates must increasingly reflect the “demographics and progressive mindsets necessary to accelerate transformation”.

When did our proudly non-racial trade union movement descend to such arrant and errant racial stereotyping?

This is not an argument in support of reactionary, recalcitrant racists, or an ignoring of how race still badly distorts every aspect of our society. It is, of course, entirely plausible that racists on the fringes of our society will benefit from a discourse which does not run to a crass characterisation of each other on the basis of our race. That is an outcome that principled progressives will always face. (In another debate, an argument in favour of free speech will always benefit those who may use it to spout hate speech.)

But the fact that many whites have sought refuge in a racialised narrative of their alleged oppression at the hands of an ANC-led government (epitomised as much by Tony Leon’s former fight-back campaign as by Solidarity’s misguided legal action in respect of “Dibula ibhunu”) does not in the least mitigate the move away from a non-racial paradigm.

The notion that, because one is white, one is forever doomed to a pre-determined atavist consciousness, or that, being black, one is blessed by God or the ancestors with a progressive disposition, belongs on the same scrapheap as apartheid’s determination that blacks must be hewers of wood and drawers of water.

It is astounding that Vavi offers no reflection on how class or race may impact on the progressiveness or otherwise of potential jurists. Notwithstanding that humans have displayed a clear ability to act against their class - and an equal skill in spurning their race.

Within the federation that Vavi leads and its historical antecedents have been men and women who have literally contributed their lives to progress worker, feminist, poor agendas. And they were whites born into the middle class.

In our society also, however, are those who are misogynist, ethno-centric tyrants. And they are black and born into the working class.

Perhaps in drawing the line below white judges, Vavi is merely accepting that their material or class position in society – to revert to Marxist language – dictates their class consciousness or their “political, juridical and other ideological” notions (as Engels wrote to Frans Meiring in July 1883)*.

However, in this regard, black lawyers who may ascend to the bench are no different from white lawyers. Their “juridical” notions would thus be formed and informed by their class positions and not their race. Of course, the question must be asked whether it is the class position they were born into or the class position they adopted. To be sure, experience shows that professionals from a working class background waste little time in transcending their class position into the middle classes.

There is no direct correlation between race and one’s occupation of the working class, between race and an ability to lead a country or a trade union federation, or even between race and being a progressive legal apologist. Of course, race influences all of these roles, and nowhere is this more starkly depicted than in our racialised, democratic capitalist South Africa.

At best for Vavi, however, his comments point to the complexity inherent in an individual’s class identity, rather than a simple relation to the means of production or a racial tag.

If Vavi is arguing for a renewed effort to ensure that black people in South Africa are given a better-than-equal shot at breaking into roles from which they have been historically excluded - and where their participation still does not come close to mimicking the demographics of our country – I make common cause with him. However, if his position is a crass dogma of white is bad and black (read African, although Vavi is not as regressive to totally exclude coloureds and Indians) is good, we are on opposite sides of a fight which ultimately must affirm whether or not we can call ourselves a non-racial democracy where all have a place and a role and a voice.

* quoted in Hobsbawn 2011