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20 August 2020 | Story Dr Nadine Lake | Photo Supplied
Dr Nadine Lake is a lecturer and Programme Director of the Gender Studies programme in the Centre for Gender and Africa Studies

The transition to democracy in South Africa has been characterised by an uphill battle towards equality. Inequalities shaped by race, gender, and class politics have been amplified since the outbreak of COVID-19. While South Africans initially thought they might be spared the devastation wrought by the virus, it is now certain that nobody is immune, regardless of race, class, age, gender, or social location. In an unprecedented manner, South Africans have become accustomed to hearing from government through President Cyril Ramaphosa’s state addresses on COVID-19 and its spread throughout the country. Although the initial national addresses were regarded as a panacea for some in a time of uncertainty, they are increasingly considered ignorant of broader human rights and the future of the populace. The South African situation is different from those struggling with the pandemic in the Global North, because of structural inequalities that have exacerbated an already precarious outlook on the economic and social stability of the country.

Gender-based violence needs immediate attention

In addition to recently emphasising a zero-tolerance attitude towards corruption in South Africa, President Ramaphosa surprised the nation when he emphasised that our country is dealing with two pandemics. First, COVID-19 has laid bare the slow pace of economic transformation and a crumbling health infrastructure. Second, gender-based violence has emerged as something that needs immediate attention. While it is true that gender-based violence has been and remains a burning issue in the country, it is important to identify the paradox that exists between the liberal agenda couched in the language of women’s rights on the one hand, and the blind eye turned towards slow economic transformation and high unemployment on the other. This emphasis on a liberal political agenda during a time of crisis is not new and has formed part of what we have come to know as political pinkwashing in Western democracies. Pinkwashing has been defined as a practice whereby states seek to create a more positive image of their nation, government, and human rights record, among other things, by speaking about and promoting LGBT rights (Lind, 2014, p. 602). While the African National Congress (ANC) may not be ready to fly the rainbow flag, it is worth noting the tensions between human rights and women’s rights, which have become part of political discourse, or more accurately, politicking. 

GBV and rape culture part of the social fabric

South Africa is reported as the country with the highest rape statistics in the world. In 2018/2019, the South African Police Services reported 52 420 cases of sexual offences. Non-profit organisations such as the One in Nine Campaign, however, highlight that only one in nine women report a sexual offence, and therefore a realistic estimate is likely much higher than the recorded statistics. Furthermore, according to a survey conducted by the South African Medical Research Council, one in four South African men have admitted to committing rape. These statistics demonstrate that gender-based violence and rape culture form part of the social fabric and that women are disproportionately affected by violence. In the first week of the South African lockdown, more than 87 000 cases of gender-based violence complaints were reported. One of the rape cases that received prominent media attention during the first phase of the lockdown, was that of a police officer who raped his wife. The Minister of Police, Bheki Cele, quickly gained the reputation of a rape apologist when he stated that the man who raped his wife was her husband and not the police, because he was not in a police uniform, and the rape did not happen at the police station. This absurd response reinforces common rape myths and reduces the seriousness of sexual offences. Although opposition political parties such as the Democratic Alliance (DA) have called for the removal of Minister Cele, who was deemed unfit for office, these calls have fallen on deaf ears. The message conveyed is that men in positions of authority are exempt from punishment and speak and act with impunity when it comes to sexual violence. 

#MeToo

Gender-based violence and rape is not specific to South Africa. The normative position of violence against women is widespread and deeply entrenched in institutions, cultures, and traditions worldwide. Movements such as #MeToo, which emerged in 2017 as an outcry against sexual violence and abuse, gained rapid momentum and started to see the prosecution of sexual predators such as Harvey Weinstein and Jeffrey Epstein in the United States. The global solidarity against sexual abuse shown by women on social media has shown that relentless pressure on patriarchal systems forces accountability, and refuses men permission to perpetrate violence against women with impunity.

As we reflect on Women’s Month 2020 in South Africa, it is necessary to observe a moment of silence to victims of sexual abuse and femicide. We pay respect to Fezekile Khuzwayo, Uyinene Mrwetyana, Tshegofatso Pule, Naledi Phangindawo, Nompumelelo Tshaka, Nomfazi Gabada, Nwabisa Mgwandela, Altecia Kortjie, and Lindelwa Peni, and the many other women who have suffered misogynistic violence. Women’s Month provides us with the opportunity to take hands and speak out against the micro-aggressions and brutal acts of gender-based violence that should not form part of what we define as a truly democratic South Africa. 

Opinion article by Dr Nadine Lake, lecturer and Programme Director of the Gender Studies programme in the Centre for Gender and Africa Studies, University of the Free State


News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

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