ANC: There is no crisis as far as we are concerned

South Africa's ANC really dislikes the word "crisis". Whether it is the new team in power at party HQ or the old and recently sidelined group, they cannot abide the word.

The party's spokespersons get extremely wound up (and many of the 'troops' too) if there is any reference to crisis, either in relation to internal party issues or with respect to the national political situation.

Of course, while a part of this is excusable as the instinctive reaction of a (or any) political party, one must ask whether the phobia for the word 'crisis' as of way of describing events can be taken to extremes. And when it is taken to such lengths, I must add, it becomes highly humorous. Cartoonists and radio hosts who imagine themselves to be satirists really have a good time.

And so, in the last year, party hacks have expended tremendous energy in hitting back at any suggestion of a 'crisis', in attacking the use of the word and lashing out at those who dare use the term. In hotly disputing the idea of a crisis, party spokespersons often insist that:

• there are 'no divisions'
• the country's constitution has not been violated and is not under any threat
  all actions taken were permissible and within the legal remit of the particular authority figure taking it
• vicious conflict is alternately denied, natural, minor or 'blown out of all proportion'
• all pertinent raised issues are internal matters that should never have been publicly aired in the first place

The most popular line these days is that unless there is a major constitutional issue at stake, there can be no crisis. Put another way: the official definition of a crisis is that the country's highly regarded constitution was being violated or is under threat. Narrowing the definition in this way may start off as 'spin doctoring', but it soon becomes an entrenched way of seeing and analysing developments.

For me, of course, the reality is that there is a leadership crisis in the country. We have not been properly or adequately led for the past year. There is a lack of focus, little sense of direction and "at the top," no one is seizing the initiative on key issues. Seizing the initiative would mean zooming in in a proactive way on an area of major concern to the public, demonstrating listening and engagement, framing the issue from the leadership point of view, giving clear pointers of action (and expected roles in action) and clear motivational calls for sustained unity in responding.

In this regard, the political hubbub post Polokwane, the sharpening of battle axes, the numerous leaks about infighting, the actual internal conflicts, the rumour mill, the provocative noises of certain youth leaders have all taken their toll. Mental bandwidth (at the political level) for critical socio-economic issues appears to severely limited.

Instead, as everyone knows, much attention is on the jostling over (or an intensive process of clarifying) which sub-group or leadership configuration will have dominant influence over the course of events in the country. But the official line has always been that there is no crisis.

Some definitions of crisis emphasise danger and possible catastrophe: they refer to "situations of extreme danger" or an incident that might involve death or injury to people or a tipping point that – if not managed well – leads to catastrophe. There are also less dramatic definitions: those that refer to "a crucial stage" or "turning point" or "an unstable or crucial time or state of affairs in which a decisive change is impending" and a "threat to the ability to carry out mission". JF Kennedy said that "(w)hen written in Chinese, the word 'crisis' is composed of two characters. One represents danger and the other represents opportunity".

For my purpose, the real (and only) question is whether there are major problems, issues and dynamics at the national level that require urgent, focused and highest-level attention. Although the word crisis is ordinarily used as a signifier of such, the recognition of such issues and challenges is more important than the semantic games as such.

What we are witnessing is a tussle over language and the use of words. The battle is about who can control the discourse – the media, the opposition party, the commentators, the leaders and/or strategists of key social movements. Whether explicitly or subliminally, these protagonists are keenly aware that she or he who controls the discourse controls the direction of events.

But denial of a crisis or of crises (like the crises that many say we have in the education and health arena) also means denying ourselves the opportunity of galvanising people and building unity. Such unity and popular mobilisation can lead to an effective response that exploits new possibilities or, at the least, to deft management of the crisis.

Those who flatly and automatically deny the existence of crises do not realise that there is no shame in conceding a crisis, just as there is no humiliation in admitting conflict. Crises and conflict represent contestation and contradictions that are necessary to propel a project or process to a new level of thinking. Looked at positively, crisis and conflict can lead to growth as well as to new capacities and knowledge. In South Africa's context, crises and conflict potentially lead to renewed national solidarity, focus, determination and joint resolve among key interest groups to work together to protect our fledgling democracy.

Crisis is a catalyst. Even though it's not advisable to wait to change, a crisis can jolt us into making changes and can prompt us into new ways of functioning in the world.

What is your view? Please add your comment …

Cultural products are a mirror to the ebbs and flows of change

We can learn much from culture about ourselves and our world. My potted dabbling in movies, books and plays - as opposed to more extensive exposure and enjoyment of what is available -signals considerable gaps in my continuing education.

I have not seen many movies lately, although I managed to catch titles such as Queen and Last King of Scotland. The last major South African movie I viewed was Drum, which focused on life in Johannesburg in the 60s. The place featured in the movie (Sophiatown) is like a frontier town – the rough- and readiness, a definite vibrancy, the urban-rural connections, communities in formation and the co-existence of trust and danger. The apartheid state also contributed to the edginess, what with its raids on shebeens and a variety of controls on the movement of the black population. In the end, the bulldozers won the day as the regime sought to make a white spot out of a residential area it viewed as a black spot.

Being and Afro-phile, I went to the movies anticipating the Last King of Scotland to depress me out of my skull. I expected dead bodies piled high and indeed that was so, but Forrest Whittaker gave a performance that lifted the movie. The film also gave insight into the recruitment, selection and formation of (firstly) a dud leader and a dictator. On display was also the Hollywood technique - par for the course in movies about Africa - of having (for commercial reasons) a white person in a major lead role. In Last King of Scotland, a fictional white medical doctor interprets what happened.

Turning to the theatre front, a past blog entry has referred to the play Dream of the Dog directed by Malcolm Purkey which is still running at Market Theatre. Purkey once told me that he believed the challenge in theatre was to lay down the new paths (moving forward from the rich history of protest theatre). This play sits in the transitional space between the new directions and the old forms. The play also nicely symbolizes Mzansi’s current position, located as it is in the interregnum which involves grappling with past injustice (insufficient closure on the past) while making advances towards a new and fundamentally different future.

I also recently saw Ntsako Mkhabela’s student production Sis Dolly’s Place which played at one of the small theatres at Wits University. The play could have done with a stronger story line. On the other hand, this deficiency gave the play a strongly post-modern flavour and featured some exciting juxtapositions. Sid Dollys Place skillfully conveyed the edginess of Johannesburg: the vibrancy, the seduction (always drawing newcomers, it seems) and those ragged and jagged edges. The play had no discernable lead role, but featured various main characters on an almost equal footing. There’s the procrastinating writer who is dreaming instead of actually writing, there’s a tough cookie of a shebeen owner (Sis Dolly), there’s the depressed person with a large suitcase of letters searching vainly for her husband and there’s a narrator darting/flying around the room declaring undying love for Johannesburg. With a little reshaping and fine-tuning, this play could easily be taken beyond the student scene.

On the literature front: currently on my bedside table is Zachariah Rapola’s The Beginning of Dream. This text fuses instances of magic realism with references to a local world that is all too recognizable. We see the parochial viewpoints of people whose horizons are confined: the petty jealousies, fraught and competitive interactions between women and intergenerational/ interfamily pressures coming into play. But we also see strange things happen and witness the dead engage in dialogue while maneuvering and schlentering - and trying to steer the lives of the living. Happily, "Dream" avoids contrived and the trap of trying to be too clever: Rapola is at ease as he weaves these two worlds together. His is a potent voice.

I am also rereading Oswald Mtshali’s Sounds of a Cowhide Drum and the work of Wopko Jensma’ Sing for the Execution. I am reading them - apart from my enjoyment of their craft – because I am perturbed that these artists and others who were enormously influential in the early eighties (and the preceding decade) are completely unsung in the new South Africa.

Mtshali wrote powerfully about ordinary life, but often with an ironic twist in the tale. In one of his poems, the central character sees a person collapse after being assaulted, the blood flowing “from his nostrils” into the street. The observer averts his gaze and walks on and into a church. When the self-satisfied and now-blessed observer returns from church, a neighbour asks: “Have you heard? They killed your brother?”

Jensma, for his part, marries texts with images, and his striking black and white woodcuts set off explosions of awareness that invigorate consciousnness and perception.

Proving that there is little thematic connection between the books I read, I have also started on Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Of course, Harry is no hero or genius; in fact, he is all too frequently helped out of trouble by Hagrid, Dumbledore, Hermione and many guardian spirits. But he is a good soul and takes an implacable stand against the use of magic to harm muggles (us ordinary folk who don’t use magic). It seems that not only is it okay for Westerners like JK Rowling and Shakespeare to write of ghostly happenings – they are often feted for it. But stories with similar supernatural happenings penned from an African perspective are not appreciated and are often viewed as reflecting backwardness. But - what the heck! - the Harry Potter books are making the kids read, and that is an eminently good thing!

I exhort you the reader to access relevant plays, books and films as one of way of learning more about other South Africans, and perhaps about yourself.

Time for men to face up to the challenge of change

In examining gender-based problems such as violence against women and child abuse, is it time for men to cut the bullshit and face up to the reality of what they need to do to bring about positive change, I ask in this piece leading up to women's month.

August focuses on women; but it may be well to devote some of the attention to men. Of course many of the women’s group (perhaps correctly) point out that there is no place for men in their cause. After all, men are the source of many of their issues. They might also remind us that when men are included in key activities (on the matter of gender) they are (again) likely to dominate, and marginalise the voices of women.

Such women’s groups – strong, strident and angry – are needed (age-old problems sometimes require radical voices to foment fundamental change), although one might suggest they are more in the mould of women’s rights activists than gender campaigners.

However, we cannot get away from a focus on men. In struggling to realize the human rights of women, men are implicated in the solution. Even if changes in policy and law are won, we will need to see a change of mindset from men in particular, to bring about positive and democratic change.

For men, a good place to start is with ourselves. To look inwards; to review who we are and what we do; to change our attitudes, how we see things, and also how we react to the social challenge of getting involved.

I will suggest that we start by looking at ourselves in relation to three areas. Firstly, in the area of sexual relations, men need to be less selfish. They need to be focused less on the destination and take into account that women partners savor moments before and after sex, much more. In survey after survey, women complain that men are poor lovers (and are more inclined to get it all over within 60 seconds). They moan about our failure to understand that they see sex as part of the broader understanding of intimacy which, in their view, should often be linked to romance and to being valued and respected.

In a sense, our behaviour in relation to sex echoes a wider dysfunctionality with regard to relationships and to meeting the needs of our partners. The root of the problem here is many men are emotional misers/emotionally inarticulate /emotionally unastute. This affects the quality of sex with women who, I am told, respond better to blokes when the latter are more in tune with them and what they are going through.

Secondly, men need to look at issues around stress and inadequate communication in personal relationships. It starts when men fail to find the right balance between work, their own personal time and good social interaction. The long hours at work are seldom balanced with enough attention to the other dimensions within lifestyles. As a consequence, stressed out men bottle-in their problems. Those closest to us would like to talk to us about certain personal and family matters and about how we are coping, but they constantly hit a blank wall. In the end they withdraw or give up, and we are left in isolation. Such shutting down on the part of men exacerbates the pressures and often leads to excessive drinking, and to the insidious build-up of health risks.

Thirdly, men often don’t realize that they need friends and that they need to maintain good friendships. Men are almost always interacting with other men, but in most cases this is superficial. In most cases, “friends” are actually acquaintances and the links are maintained for opportunistic reasons: we work together, we are discussing a deal or, in desperation, we need someone to chill out with. As time moves on, we lose contact with close friends. When we meet in the street or the mall, we greet like old buddies and promise to link up, but never make the time. These are some of the questions: How do we select our friends, and do we value the really good guys in our life - or do we retreat? Do each of us have at least a single friend (a mate, as the Ozzies say) who will give us tough feedback and challenge us when we mess up? Who can tell us to cut the bullshit and face up to reality? Are we encircled by a close group of trusted male buddies that we can talk to about personal things, or are our associates just “die manne” that we enjoy drinking beer and discussing sport with.

Fifthly, men need to learn how to relate better to their kids. The same problems mentioned above (of withdrawing, of excess stress and of avoiding discussion of personal issues) damage our relationships with children. In building our families, communities and society, we need to be conscious of the wider impact and influence of how we relate to our kids. Relate badly, oppress them, close down their thinking, teach them bad habits with regard to personal relationships and we sow the seed for broader social dysfunction and pathology.

Although we must (and usually do) love all our kids equally, we are given particular responsibilities with regard to the boy child. We are expected to provide a role model and to provide guidance that would prepare the boy to go into the world and deal with its pressures, demands, opportunities and wonders. Let’s admit we don’t always know what to do and, especially during their teenage years, problems arise. We should be bold enough to talk to each other and seek out relevant information and advice. Our girl children of course also need preparation to go out into a world filled with entrenched attitudes and rules. We need to work with our partners to ensure we prepare our girl children to be confident and bold women, ones with the strength of character to pursue their goals in life with style and strength.

Another thing that puzzles me about men is what I sometimes see as “herd” instincts. Although men claim to be tough (and some of them openly admire intimidating and bullying behaviour as a style of managing and doing business), there is actually a great deal of cowardice in the ranks when push comes to shove or when the chips are down. The tendency of men to conform and to seek acceptance by who they view as having power is what contributes to conformity and the dearth of innovation.

In business, if the young men “copy” their forerunners (some call this mentoring) well enough, they are more likely promoted. If you don’t rock the boat, if you fit in, you stand a better chance of advancement and if you come from the same school and university as a key executive in the business, all things being equal, you are likely to be given the juiciest projects to run. Men also like to conform in other spheres. At a workshop with a group of young men in Alex some time ago, one young married man said he was loathe to help his wife by hanging out the washing in the yard. “My friends would mock me and claim I am under petticoat government”. Another said that friends told him that one needed to slap one’s girlfriend now and again so that she stayed in line and knew who wore the pants. He noted that it took courage to take a stand against such behaviours, but that for many guys, peer pressure takes the upper hand.

In organizational situations, this herd instinct (mainly from men) becomes a barrier to renewal and change. The effective change manager must devote a great deal of effort to breaking the “group think” by encouraging more open ended and creative responses to the possibilities and challenges in the environment.

These are the soft issues (although in change management we say the “soft stuff” is really the hardest); I now turn to the hard issues of sexual violence against women and what I view as the challenge to get involved in actions to combat the scourge. Many women’s groups prefer to go it alone on these issues. But such a line is a mistake. Not all men are perpetrators. And women need as many allies as they can muster to take up this issue. Men are well placed in corporations, in the legal system, in law enforcement and in the commanding heights of government. Winning them over (from a stance of bystanders/onlookers/condemners in the crowd to some form of concrete stance or action) can play a catalytic role in effectively combating sexual violence against women and girls.

We have to ask ourselves as men: in what ways does the general culture (how we view and treat women) contribute to an environment where violence against women can flourish? Are there areas or times (as in pub conversations) where we collude with views that see women as lesser beings, as ones who exist for the pleasure of men and as persons who are sometimes partly to blame for ill-treatment meted out to them.

Furthermore, in line with many public calls in recent years, the challenge is to join activities to highlight rape and sexual violence, and to call for social and legal reforms to eradicate these evils. Because you are I are not perpetrators, we cannot just fold our hands and claim that it is not our problem (especially when these evils and injustices spring from a society that we as human beings have created!). If we really find this violence repugnant, should we not be taking some form of stand or getting involved in practical action to eradicate such oppression of women?