I usually agree with Jody Kollapen, chairperson of the Human Rights Commission; he usually has a particularly good take on the SA set up. And his articulation of issues often promotes deeper understanding of the aspects involved.
But I differ with his finding on whether the Forum of Black Journalists has a right to organize on the basis of black solidarity.
Kollapen was today reporting back on an investigation into this matter following a complaint by white journalists at Radio 702 regarding a “blacks only” FBJ launch event held recently. Kollapen reported that the HRC saw no problem with limiting attendance at an event to members only. It took issue, more fundamentally, with the (blacks only) membership policy of the FBJ. Such a policy position was unconstitutional, Kollapen argued.
The HRC findings are technically correct and well argued. The findings are also strongly consistent with the “ideal” – and with the desired end state of positive social engagement and interaction in South Africa.
But the findings overlook the following:
• The fact that SA is in transition and that, in key areas, that transition is painfully slow, as Kollapen himself argued recently.
• The historical context, including the fact that in the past there was general acceptance and respect for the decision of certain liberation organizations to use racial exclusion in their membership policies.
• That the Constitution emphases socio-economic rights and dignity as much as it does non-racialism; are we also prepared to declare policies that promote inequality, such as privatization of the provision of basic services, “unconstitutional”?
• That black and white people rarely come together in common forums to forge common objectives, often seem ignorant of the fact they are working towards the same objectives; rarely engage each other in open debate to debunk/challenge assumptions, stereotypes and preconceptions.
• That, in this context, many may feel that the best way to focus energies advance objectives is to unite those who are affected in the same way about an issue.
• The implications of the finding for women’s organizations; there are many instances where – even though the HRC may interpret the country’s Constitution in the same way for them – women may feel they can marshal their energies better if they do not have to deal with the dynamics unleashed by the participation of men.
The findings are thus hard-edged (at a time when we are just starting to open the space for debate on “race”) and bordering on the coercive (in a situation where strong pointers, recommendations and a developmental finding might work better). We cannot get non-racial practice by decree – not when social cohesion and inter-group interaction remains severely limited (and certainly not while there is such a paucity of interventions to promote anti-racism, discussion of race in society and social cohesion).
I believe that - especially if the ultimate aims are outcomes like non-racialism and justice - people should as far as possible/reasonable, be permitted to organize in ways that are relevant for them.
I can see what the HRC wants to do: it wants to drive the society towards non-racialism. I can see the implications for its ruling for political and non-political organisations, clubs that would want to exclude people simply on the basis of race. But, with an eye to the historical development of political organisations of the disadvantaged and given the imperatives of free expression and association, I believe there should be a sunset provision. I believe that organisations - including particularly those bodies whose target group is people who have been specifically affected by oppressive racial legislation - should be given a period of, say, a year to 18 months to make the required changes to membership policy. Such a period of transition should run from case by case complaints or - provided the HRC rolls out a general public engagement and information-dissemination process beforehand - a general HRC ruling or pronouncement.
That is my contradictory position: I say Jody has got it wrong; at the same time, I laud him as a leader and a key thinker on issues of justice.
Do you agree with my views as expressed here? Please feel free to post your reply.
Showing posts with label race. Show all posts
Showing posts with label race. Show all posts
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
Let's err on the side of giving FBJ the space to mobilise
Friday, 3 August 2007
Old Word with New Meanings?
The term ‘native’ has re-entered the SA political debate. This entry is positive – unlike in the past when ‘native’ accompanied a long line of terms such as ‘Bantu’ and ‘Plural’ that were used as the name of the government department charged with the administration of the majority in the black population.
Firstly, the current use of the term ‘native’ is interesting. The word ‘native’ leapt into the public arena through the formation of The Native Club about a year ago.
We all know the meaning of the word as per the Webster’s or Oxford dictionary. Used in its political sense, however, the term originates from the context of the colony and colonisation. It conjures up a graphic image of the coloniser (hard, aloof and frequently patronising) and the locals (exploited in many different ways). Today “native” is often used in tandem with the term “settler”. Sometimes, however, it is deployed interchangeably as referring to the hardships and oppression that arise from the vestiges of colonialism as well as the evils of human subjugation prevalent during imperialism.
There appears to be some link to debates about who can be regarded, I suppose, as true and genuine South Africans, those with a genuine interest and a more legitimate stake in the future of the country.
I believe that when considering who is a South African, we should steer away from essentialist notions. Such notions get you into all kinds of trouble. When trying to categorise people, terms that at first seem clear, after a while – especially at the margins where categories interface – become murky and nebulous. You would be in danger of becoming entangled in problematic debates about genetics, bloodlines and eugenics.
South Africans include:
a) indigenous people, those who can trace their forbears as far back as possible and still place their footprints and fossils in Southern African soil.
b) groups/individuals that have no home in another place, no place else either geographically (or in their consciousness) where they can run to when things become too much for them in Mzanzi.
c) people or individuals who make a commitment to and identify with Mzanzi and its nestling within the region and continent; such a stand means the exercising of an option and a political commitment to Mzanzi.
These categorizations should not be the building blocks of prejudice and intolerance; rather (more positively) they should indicate the deep reservoirs of human experience, insight, perspectives and ways of living that we can draw on as we define our distinctiveness as South Africans into the future.
However, I must ask: how important is it to draw a distinction between being native and non-native as we dialogue about the future of the country and debate each other’s positions?
There is some use or merit to the term being employed in debate. For example, it seems to come into play in the quest to unmask power relations. It is a tool in discussion about how major solidarities develop and sustain themselves. Its use can lead to a deeper discussion and reflection about the motivating forces for change. In this regard, the term can be deployed to indicate persons whose vested interests stand in contrast to those of imperialists. It puts the spotlight on sets of people or organised groups seeking redress against specific cases of historical exploitation.
At another level, the term has little value. Our constitution gives citizenship rights to all South Africans and such rights (which include voting rights) imply that we can all take part in debates about the future of the country. Even the Freedom Charter, which appears to provide the philosophical underpinning for our democracy, states that Mzanzi belongs "to all who live in it".
In terms of these seminal documents, this opening up is much more than a liberal concession; they punt such an inclusive stance as a radical position that is distinct and intentional against a backdrop of historical (in South Africa) and contemporary (many parts of the world) racist exclusivity.
Although the term native has undoubted currency - and appears to be adding spark and vibrancy to political debates - those who use it should bear in mind the following issues:
* The term is weakened to the extent that it overlooks or submerges the class factor. It suggests that persons organized in terms of nationalistic solidarity fundamentally and always share common perspectives. But in today’s South Africa, as COSATU frequently points out, people who have a shared heritage, historical experiences and even common national heroes often have significantly diverging interests and priorities. In the trade union federation’s view, a huge gulf exists between the “native” capitalist mogul that has benefited from affirmative action and the native unskilled worker.
* The term does not bring to the fore gender differences in a meaningful way, nor does it adequately deal with other differences within, for example, the black community. The danger is that those who then aim to articulate the “native” position run the risk of downplaying the diversity of views, and instead put forward monolithic views that in themselves can be stereotypical.
* We should not become so caught up in the use of jargon (or “in” terms understood by a few) that we neglect to explain what we mean. If a term gets used as shorthand, or as a sociological term with specific meaning, it will be helpful if those using such a term continuously explain what the term means. In this way we would ensure wider participation in debates and ensure that discussion of real issues is not undermined by poor hearing and distorted inferences.
* Categorisations are a problem if they paint us into a corner and limit the possibility of forward movement. Once we have completed the classification of who is a native and who is not, or who is an African and who is not, what then? Where do we go from there? As someone who works in social change and transformation, I am perturbed by rigid categories that suggest no change is possible. Even the original communist thinkers that emphasized the primacy of class categorisations conceded the possibility of "class suicide". Thus, whereas in the context of a nationbuilding, terms such as "native" and "settler" help us to openly discuss the legacies of oppression and exploitation; they also lead us to a dead end if the peddlers of such terms close off possibilities of moving forward, of working together on shared priorities, and forging new solidarities based on some shared grasp of past truths and future possibilities.
What is your view as a reader on this issue? Let's widen participation in the debate.
Firstly, the current use of the term ‘native’ is interesting. The word ‘native’ leapt into the public arena through the formation of The Native Club about a year ago.
We all know the meaning of the word as per the Webster’s or Oxford dictionary. Used in its political sense, however, the term originates from the context of the colony and colonisation. It conjures up a graphic image of the coloniser (hard, aloof and frequently patronising) and the locals (exploited in many different ways). Today “native” is often used in tandem with the term “settler”. Sometimes, however, it is deployed interchangeably as referring to the hardships and oppression that arise from the vestiges of colonialism as well as the evils of human subjugation prevalent during imperialism.
There appears to be some link to debates about who can be regarded, I suppose, as true and genuine South Africans, those with a genuine interest and a more legitimate stake in the future of the country.
I believe that when considering who is a South African, we should steer away from essentialist notions. Such notions get you into all kinds of trouble. When trying to categorise people, terms that at first seem clear, after a while – especially at the margins where categories interface – become murky and nebulous. You would be in danger of becoming entangled in problematic debates about genetics, bloodlines and eugenics.
South Africans include:
a) indigenous people, those who can trace their forbears as far back as possible and still place their footprints and fossils in Southern African soil.
b) groups/individuals that have no home in another place, no place else either geographically (or in their consciousness) where they can run to when things become too much for them in Mzanzi.
c) people or individuals who make a commitment to and identify with Mzanzi and its nestling within the region and continent; such a stand means the exercising of an option and a political commitment to Mzanzi.
These categorizations should not be the building blocks of prejudice and intolerance; rather (more positively) they should indicate the deep reservoirs of human experience, insight, perspectives and ways of living that we can draw on as we define our distinctiveness as South Africans into the future.
However, I must ask: how important is it to draw a distinction between being native and non-native as we dialogue about the future of the country and debate each other’s positions?
There is some use or merit to the term being employed in debate. For example, it seems to come into play in the quest to unmask power relations. It is a tool in discussion about how major solidarities develop and sustain themselves. Its use can lead to a deeper discussion and reflection about the motivating forces for change. In this regard, the term can be deployed to indicate persons whose vested interests stand in contrast to those of imperialists. It puts the spotlight on sets of people or organised groups seeking redress against specific cases of historical exploitation.
At another level, the term has little value. Our constitution gives citizenship rights to all South Africans and such rights (which include voting rights) imply that we can all take part in debates about the future of the country. Even the Freedom Charter, which appears to provide the philosophical underpinning for our democracy, states that Mzanzi belongs "to all who live in it".
In terms of these seminal documents, this opening up is much more than a liberal concession; they punt such an inclusive stance as a radical position that is distinct and intentional against a backdrop of historical (in South Africa) and contemporary (many parts of the world) racist exclusivity.
Although the term native has undoubted currency - and appears to be adding spark and vibrancy to political debates - those who use it should bear in mind the following issues:
* The term is weakened to the extent that it overlooks or submerges the class factor. It suggests that persons organized in terms of nationalistic solidarity fundamentally and always share common perspectives. But in today’s South Africa, as COSATU frequently points out, people who have a shared heritage, historical experiences and even common national heroes often have significantly diverging interests and priorities. In the trade union federation’s view, a huge gulf exists between the “native” capitalist mogul that has benefited from affirmative action and the native unskilled worker.
* The term does not bring to the fore gender differences in a meaningful way, nor does it adequately deal with other differences within, for example, the black community. The danger is that those who then aim to articulate the “native” position run the risk of downplaying the diversity of views, and instead put forward monolithic views that in themselves can be stereotypical.
* We should not become so caught up in the use of jargon (or “in” terms understood by a few) that we neglect to explain what we mean. If a term gets used as shorthand, or as a sociological term with specific meaning, it will be helpful if those using such a term continuously explain what the term means. In this way we would ensure wider participation in debates and ensure that discussion of real issues is not undermined by poor hearing and distorted inferences.
* Categorisations are a problem if they paint us into a corner and limit the possibility of forward movement. Once we have completed the classification of who is a native and who is not, or who is an African and who is not, what then? Where do we go from there? As someone who works in social change and transformation, I am perturbed by rigid categories that suggest no change is possible. Even the original communist thinkers that emphasized the primacy of class categorisations conceded the possibility of "class suicide". Thus, whereas in the context of a nationbuilding, terms such as "native" and "settler" help us to openly discuss the legacies of oppression and exploitation; they also lead us to a dead end if the peddlers of such terms close off possibilities of moving forward, of working together on shared priorities, and forging new solidarities based on some shared grasp of past truths and future possibilities.
What is your view as a reader on this issue? Let's widen participation in the debate.
Labels:
citizenship,
dialogue,
diversity,
nationbuilding,
native,
race
Thursday, 31 May 2007
Don't be afraid to discuss racial issues
In the book Shades of Difference: Mac Maharaj and the Struggle for South Africa, Maharaj cites his father’s comment that “the Englishman would stab you in the back while embracing you”, while on the other hand, “(t)he Afrikaner … was transparent about his hatred, so when you engaged with the Afrikaner, he would punch you in the nose up front”. Apart from wondering whether such perceptions are important or can be proven – this led me to consider whether, through the widespread aversion to openly discussing race issues in South Africa, we aren’t stabbing each other in the back.
We are all influenced by racism. As a block white people were put into – and made used to - a dominant position over others over an extended period of time. Black people lost opportunities, own lives or lives of loved ones, resources and basic rights over that same period. Furthermore, as Steve Biko famously noted, black people internalized ideas and distortions about themselves and others.
The space for talking about race in South Africa has shrunk. There seems to be some kind of whitelash against that. It’s as if, for some, discrimination and racial inequality disappeared in April 2004. For such people, the day we christened ourselves “the rainbow nation” was an end point - rather than “a start” and reflecting an aspiration and something to strive for. Some also think, and crazily so, that discussing racial issues is the major concern - the bigger problem - as compared to the feelings and experiences (and perceptions, if you like) of many people of discrimination, inequality and marginalization.
I would like to make the following points about racial matters:
1. Many white folk think that discussion of race is just about them – about their behaviours, conduct and practices. Actually, it is as much about ourselves as black people; it is about dealing with our own issues, complexes, reactions and responses to power relations so that we can move beyond them. It is about the barriers we face at all levels and addressing them openly; for those who have become middle class, successful and affluent, the focus may be on unresolved trauma from past suffering. At another level (at the second level??), it is an issue that affects us all. So, to those whites inclined to muzzle free expression on this issue, I say: don’t be so self-centred to want to prevent others from speaking about race.
2. Discussing and debating racial inequality and racism is not about blame. Many white people, but blacks also, think talking about race issues means remaining in the blame frame. Yet, as Margaret Legum is wont to say, nobody came down the birth canal a racist. Social circumstances and influences, rather than something inherent in any person, shape discriminatory attitudes and the use/abuse of racially-conferred power. In other words, the emphasis should not be on past-related blame; it should fall instead on present understanding, on being aware and on working out what to do from here on. It should revolve around helping us understand how as persons we come across to others and, wherever relevant, to affirm transformed, positive relations between people.
3. We should discuss race precisely because we (or most of us) want to strive for excellence and to see our country moving from good to great. I am all too aware of how impoverished social relations – and seeing the world through racial lenses – hobble South Africa. If this country can remove the barriers and impediments on its people, it can fly.
4. We want to discuss and sort out racial issues because unaddressed racist or discriminatory views and practices undermine quality debate. If we drive the issue of race underground, it pops up – not always at the most appropriate times. And so, some South Africa debates sink to nonsensical levels. At a time when we are discussing measures to address the legacy of the substantial losses endured by black people over decades, a predominantly white political party is likely to jump up and complain about "the race card" or racism in reverse. Nonsensical, if you ask me. In other cases, good ideas and interesting policy suggestions are simply dumped because they were punted by white persons – this at a time when South Africa needs as many people as possible to keep depositing into the bank of innovative ideas that are so sorely needed if we are to find the breakthroughs that we need on so many fronts
I would like to make a couple of references that I hope would throw further light on the issues involved - and perhaps underline the relevance of continuing to bring the question of race to the fore.
The issue of race is not just a South African issue. In a recent Star article entitled Citizens, but still a dead people walking (May 28), reference is made to the lack of national reconciliation between mainstream white society and the Aborigines in Australia. The story is that – despite government spending on programmes for Aborigines – the divide remains mainly because the official government line is to focus on practical measures whereas Aboriginals want recognition of what happened and “healing for past injustice”. In 2000, 250000 Aboriginals marched in Sydney demanding some kind of an apology, but to date have received none.
The Centre for the Study of Violence claims that crime is reracialising society, which may be taken to mean that crime is giving racism new life and impetus in society. We have always had crime in South Africa – what is striking now is the levels of violence and brutality in so much of it. In the 50s, gangsters would injure and kill each other and they would carry out robberies at warehouses and businesses; ordinary people were affected mainly through pick pocketing or being caught in the crossfire. Today unnecessary violence is almost ever-present in crime. We may well ask: is the level of violence linked to the perpetrators’ (both black and white) experiences of growing up in a brutal and violent racist society, and to the dehumanization that has taken place?
There is also reracialisation in the form of “racial profiling” around crime. In our fear, it is easy to stereotype large groups of people, and in South Africa today young black men bear the brunt. They often suffer a new form of prejudice and discrimination at the hands of people in the upmarket malls and the suburbs – unfairly so, given that all population groups are involved in crime and only a tiny minority of any population are criminals.
It is not just black people who are keen on probing the extent to which race still bedevils society. Recently commentators such as Theresa Oakley-Smith (see Anger brewing among blacks in The Star, May 15) and Bryan Rostron (see Joining the dots between alarm systems, scavengers and SUVs in Business Day, May 9) have surfaced their concern. Rostron comments on life in the suburbs and how black people are viewed; he laments the pervasive habit of “appraising people from the colour of their skin, not as an individual, but as an incarnation of an aggregate …”
I believe that there is only one human race and I shun the idea of “races”. At the same time, I believe the phenomenon of racism is all too real. I further hold that cultural differences and diversity (something essential and valuable for the survival of the human race) have often been poisoned by perverse power relations and by unjust economic arrangements. Taking the view that there is only one race – the human race – allows us to understand our ultimate inter-dependence in striving for a better society, better social cohesion and positive inter-group relations.
Finally, I believe our society is not so fragile that we cannot afford to open up discussion on racial injustice and unresolved racial issues. Despite fierce debates and occasional clashes, there are strong bonds between people of different backgrounds. (This is the case even in conservative rural areas; there are always real human linkages between the hard dividing lines.) The social capital in South Africa, although eroded, is not depleted. Our robust debates, spats and constant sparring are like family life; despite the “fights” and heated arguments, South Africans know they belong together and remain united on many major issues, and as we face the world. This is what leads me to believe that we have no need to be terrified about mention of the R word; that on balance, we are strong enough to embrace, rather than flee from, debate on racial issues.
We are all influenced by racism. As a block white people were put into – and made used to - a dominant position over others over an extended period of time. Black people lost opportunities, own lives or lives of loved ones, resources and basic rights over that same period. Furthermore, as Steve Biko famously noted, black people internalized ideas and distortions about themselves and others.
The space for talking about race in South Africa has shrunk. There seems to be some kind of whitelash against that. It’s as if, for some, discrimination and racial inequality disappeared in April 2004. For such people, the day we christened ourselves “the rainbow nation” was an end point - rather than “a start” and reflecting an aspiration and something to strive for. Some also think, and crazily so, that discussing racial issues is the major concern - the bigger problem - as compared to the feelings and experiences (and perceptions, if you like) of many people of discrimination, inequality and marginalization.
I would like to make the following points about racial matters:
1. Many white folk think that discussion of race is just about them – about their behaviours, conduct and practices. Actually, it is as much about ourselves as black people; it is about dealing with our own issues, complexes, reactions and responses to power relations so that we can move beyond them. It is about the barriers we face at all levels and addressing them openly; for those who have become middle class, successful and affluent, the focus may be on unresolved trauma from past suffering. At another level (at the second level??), it is an issue that affects us all. So, to those whites inclined to muzzle free expression on this issue, I say: don’t be so self-centred to want to prevent others from speaking about race.
2. Discussing and debating racial inequality and racism is not about blame. Many white people, but blacks also, think talking about race issues means remaining in the blame frame. Yet, as Margaret Legum is wont to say, nobody came down the birth canal a racist. Social circumstances and influences, rather than something inherent in any person, shape discriminatory attitudes and the use/abuse of racially-conferred power. In other words, the emphasis should not be on past-related blame; it should fall instead on present understanding, on being aware and on working out what to do from here on. It should revolve around helping us understand how as persons we come across to others and, wherever relevant, to affirm transformed, positive relations between people.
3. We should discuss race precisely because we (or most of us) want to strive for excellence and to see our country moving from good to great. I am all too aware of how impoverished social relations – and seeing the world through racial lenses – hobble South Africa. If this country can remove the barriers and impediments on its people, it can fly.
4. We want to discuss and sort out racial issues because unaddressed racist or discriminatory views and practices undermine quality debate. If we drive the issue of race underground, it pops up – not always at the most appropriate times. And so, some South Africa debates sink to nonsensical levels. At a time when we are discussing measures to address the legacy of the substantial losses endured by black people over decades, a predominantly white political party is likely to jump up and complain about "the race card" or racism in reverse. Nonsensical, if you ask me. In other cases, good ideas and interesting policy suggestions are simply dumped because they were punted by white persons – this at a time when South Africa needs as many people as possible to keep depositing into the bank of innovative ideas that are so sorely needed if we are to find the breakthroughs that we need on so many fronts
I would like to make a couple of references that I hope would throw further light on the issues involved - and perhaps underline the relevance of continuing to bring the question of race to the fore.
The issue of race is not just a South African issue. In a recent Star article entitled Citizens, but still a dead people walking (May 28), reference is made to the lack of national reconciliation between mainstream white society and the Aborigines in Australia. The story is that – despite government spending on programmes for Aborigines – the divide remains mainly because the official government line is to focus on practical measures whereas Aboriginals want recognition of what happened and “healing for past injustice”. In 2000, 250000 Aboriginals marched in Sydney demanding some kind of an apology, but to date have received none.
The Centre for the Study of Violence claims that crime is reracialising society, which may be taken to mean that crime is giving racism new life and impetus in society. We have always had crime in South Africa – what is striking now is the levels of violence and brutality in so much of it. In the 50s, gangsters would injure and kill each other and they would carry out robberies at warehouses and businesses; ordinary people were affected mainly through pick pocketing or being caught in the crossfire. Today unnecessary violence is almost ever-present in crime. We may well ask: is the level of violence linked to the perpetrators’ (both black and white) experiences of growing up in a brutal and violent racist society, and to the dehumanization that has taken place?
There is also reracialisation in the form of “racial profiling” around crime. In our fear, it is easy to stereotype large groups of people, and in South Africa today young black men bear the brunt. They often suffer a new form of prejudice and discrimination at the hands of people in the upmarket malls and the suburbs – unfairly so, given that all population groups are involved in crime and only a tiny minority of any population are criminals.
It is not just black people who are keen on probing the extent to which race still bedevils society. Recently commentators such as Theresa Oakley-Smith (see Anger brewing among blacks in The Star, May 15) and Bryan Rostron (see Joining the dots between alarm systems, scavengers and SUVs in Business Day, May 9) have surfaced their concern. Rostron comments on life in the suburbs and how black people are viewed; he laments the pervasive habit of “appraising people from the colour of their skin, not as an individual, but as an incarnation of an aggregate …”
I believe that there is only one human race and I shun the idea of “races”. At the same time, I believe the phenomenon of racism is all too real. I further hold that cultural differences and diversity (something essential and valuable for the survival of the human race) have often been poisoned by perverse power relations and by unjust economic arrangements. Taking the view that there is only one race – the human race – allows us to understand our ultimate inter-dependence in striving for a better society, better social cohesion and positive inter-group relations.
Finally, I believe our society is not so fragile that we cannot afford to open up discussion on racial injustice and unresolved racial issues. Despite fierce debates and occasional clashes, there are strong bonds between people of different backgrounds. (This is the case even in conservative rural areas; there are always real human linkages between the hard dividing lines.) The social capital in South Africa, although eroded, is not depleted. Our robust debates, spats and constant sparring are like family life; despite the “fights” and heated arguments, South Africans know they belong together and remain united on many major issues, and as we face the world. This is what leads me to believe that we have no need to be terrified about mention of the R word; that on balance, we are strong enough to embrace, rather than flee from, debate on racial issues.
Tuesday, 29 May 2007
Qunta wrong to attack Gordimer
Passing judgement without reading the book? Or is Qunta's intervention an example of venting rage on an arbitrarily chosen target and reducing rational discussion of important issues to diatribe and noise? Guest contributor Karen Lazar responds to Christine Qunta's recent newspaper piece, "Author's a colonial construction."
In putting herself in cosy public alliance with Ronald Suresh Roberts in her comment article, "Author's a colonial construction" (The Star, May 9) on the basis of inaccuracy and misreading, Christine Qunta calls her own comments into question. She perpetuates the misrepresentations of the writings and social vision of Nadine Gordimer.
One of Qunta's most outrageous claims is that Gordimer and her "friends in the white liberal elite" were irritated by Roberts because he is "one of those natives who does not know his place".
This sort of portraiture merely reinforces the biographer's aggrieved self-marketing. Moreover, this is a rank distortion of the complexities of the breaches of trust which played out in the publication of No Cold Kitchen.
Qunta implicitly claims - wholly mysteriously - to share with Roberts a knowledge of "Gordimer as she really is", all the while citing her pieces out of context and embarrassingly selectively.
Since Qunta cannot know Gordimer but can only generalise speciously about her, this "comment" is as "unscientific" as that which Qunta lays at the author's door.
Qunta's biggest error is to grant herself the right to pass judgment on Gordimer on the basis of Roberts' book, rather than on Gordimer's books; the three to four pages of which she has read are hardly an adequate platform from which to make racially inflected sideswipes.
The tortured longevity and brutalities arising out of the faultlines of colonialism and apartheid have occupied none other than Gordimer for six decades, with a scrupulous, humane, and self-scrutinising pen: across 13 novels, hundreds of short stories and hundreds of critical essays and addresses. The white liberalism Qunta lumps Gordimer in, has also been one of her subjects of critique and enquiry.
Qunta would do well to do some substantial independent research next time before turning her boredom into journalistic diatribe.
Karen Lazar
For my review of Roberts' biography of Gordimer, No Cold Kitchen, visit http://www.newnationconsulting.co.za/cold_kitchen_25012005.html. See also the letter by the Minister of Defence, M. Lekota, entitled Which Gordimer is Qunta talking about?, The Star, 17 May 2007. FM.
In putting herself in cosy public alliance with Ronald Suresh Roberts in her comment article, "Author's a colonial construction" (The Star, May 9) on the basis of inaccuracy and misreading, Christine Qunta calls her own comments into question. She perpetuates the misrepresentations of the writings and social vision of Nadine Gordimer.
One of Qunta's most outrageous claims is that Gordimer and her "friends in the white liberal elite" were irritated by Roberts because he is "one of those natives who does not know his place".
This sort of portraiture merely reinforces the biographer's aggrieved self-marketing. Moreover, this is a rank distortion of the complexities of the breaches of trust which played out in the publication of No Cold Kitchen.
Qunta implicitly claims - wholly mysteriously - to share with Roberts a knowledge of "Gordimer as she really is", all the while citing her pieces out of context and embarrassingly selectively.
Since Qunta cannot know Gordimer but can only generalise speciously about her, this "comment" is as "unscientific" as that which Qunta lays at the author's door.
Qunta's biggest error is to grant herself the right to pass judgment on Gordimer on the basis of Roberts' book, rather than on Gordimer's books; the three to four pages of which she has read are hardly an adequate platform from which to make racially inflected sideswipes.
The tortured longevity and brutalities arising out of the faultlines of colonialism and apartheid have occupied none other than Gordimer for six decades, with a scrupulous, humane, and self-scrutinising pen: across 13 novels, hundreds of short stories and hundreds of critical essays and addresses. The white liberalism Qunta lumps Gordimer in, has also been one of her subjects of critique and enquiry.
Qunta would do well to do some substantial independent research next time before turning her boredom into journalistic diatribe.
Karen Lazar
For my review of Roberts' biography of Gordimer, No Cold Kitchen, visit http://www.newnationconsulting.co.za/cold_kitchen_25012005.html. See also the letter by the Minister of Defence, M. Lekota, entitled Which Gordimer is Qunta talking about?, The Star, 17 May 2007. FM.
Thursday, 10 May 2007
Is Zille another Tony or will she do a better job?
So, Helen Zille has beaten the contenders and ascended to the DA throne. One or two of my women friends - when I asked them whether Zille’s win was a coup for women - say she is like Tony Leon in many ways. One of them referred to her as “a clone” of Leon, which I think is a bit harsh. But I can see where they are coming from. Zille styles herself as being as hard as nails, and takes a tough aggressive line on many matters. Which is why the cartoonist Jonathan Shapiro (aka Zapiro) has nicknamed her Godzille.
At the same time, I believe Zille is different from Tony in some (important) ways. Leon could never understand that the official opposition role is not about hating the ruling party. Of course you must be passionate, but constantly foaming at the mouth is not an indispensable requirement of the opposition role. Being an effective opposition party may be much more about compelling alternatives (facts), substantiation (data) and cogent criticism of flawed government programmes that have negative impacts on the largest segments of the public (incisive). In SA, where millions of people have an emotional attachment to the ruling party, and where racial patterns define support for political parties, it makes even more sense to get off the emotive wagon. In this sense, Helen Zille appears to be different.
Zille is different also in that she not only demonstrates “reaching out” to other communities (by her use of different languages); she also appears to be less likely to make crass rejections of policies such as Employment Equity. She has the good sense to know that such policies are the flicker of hope to many black people, although of course for millions (the unemployed, for example) such policies are a mirage.
What does Zille stand for with regard to women’s rights and gender? Zille generally does not want to be drawn on this issue. In one of her interviews on the day of her election to the top position, all she would say was that women can be whatever they want to be (what does this mean?) and that women “are taking their rightful place” in all spheres of society.
While we are used to the spectacle of men competing to see who can pee farthest, one would have thought Zille and Patricia de Lille would show greater willingness and ability to work co-operatively. But no, Zille seems to be very competitive in relation to de Lille. The game seems to be: Who will be queen of the (opposition) castle? But many of us don’t care who is more loved by the media. The point really is to be effective and to take actions that lead to the country’s improvement and advancement.
In relation to her role in the Cape Town government, Zille has outfoxed the ANC in building a coalition. As mayor, she brought stability to the Metro government. But for the rest, she has not moved far out of the starting blocks. She has not (yet) rolled back the huge and specific problems of Cape Town: high inequality, rampant gangs in poor communities, constantly burgeoning informal settlements, the racial control structure of tourism and the arts and poor race relations between the people of Cape Town. For her, the jury is still out with regard to her performance on the burning urban issues in the piece of land she governs.
Even though I don’t think she is an inspirational leader (in the light of the fact that SA needs breakthrough ideas), Zille should be congratulated on snatching the DA leadership. Politics is a tough and rough game and she had the gumption to win. I remain very open to seeing what she can do.
At the same time, I believe Zille is different from Tony in some (important) ways. Leon could never understand that the official opposition role is not about hating the ruling party. Of course you must be passionate, but constantly foaming at the mouth is not an indispensable requirement of the opposition role. Being an effective opposition party may be much more about compelling alternatives (facts), substantiation (data) and cogent criticism of flawed government programmes that have negative impacts on the largest segments of the public (incisive). In SA, where millions of people have an emotional attachment to the ruling party, and where racial patterns define support for political parties, it makes even more sense to get off the emotive wagon. In this sense, Helen Zille appears to be different.
Zille is different also in that she not only demonstrates “reaching out” to other communities (by her use of different languages); she also appears to be less likely to make crass rejections of policies such as Employment Equity. She has the good sense to know that such policies are the flicker of hope to many black people, although of course for millions (the unemployed, for example) such policies are a mirage.
What does Zille stand for with regard to women’s rights and gender? Zille generally does not want to be drawn on this issue. In one of her interviews on the day of her election to the top position, all she would say was that women can be whatever they want to be (what does this mean?) and that women “are taking their rightful place” in all spheres of society.
While we are used to the spectacle of men competing to see who can pee farthest, one would have thought Zille and Patricia de Lille would show greater willingness and ability to work co-operatively. But no, Zille seems to be very competitive in relation to de Lille. The game seems to be: Who will be queen of the (opposition) castle? But many of us don’t care who is more loved by the media. The point really is to be effective and to take actions that lead to the country’s improvement and advancement.
In relation to her role in the Cape Town government, Zille has outfoxed the ANC in building a coalition. As mayor, she brought stability to the Metro government. But for the rest, she has not moved far out of the starting blocks. She has not (yet) rolled back the huge and specific problems of Cape Town: high inequality, rampant gangs in poor communities, constantly burgeoning informal settlements, the racial control structure of tourism and the arts and poor race relations between the people of Cape Town. For her, the jury is still out with regard to her performance on the burning urban issues in the piece of land she governs.
Even though I don’t think she is an inspirational leader (in the light of the fact that SA needs breakthrough ideas), Zille should be congratulated on snatching the DA leadership. Politics is a tough and rough game and she had the gumption to win. I remain very open to seeing what she can do.
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