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06 July 2021 | Story Prof Sethulego Matebesi | Photo Sonia Small (Kaleidoscope Stuidos)
Prof Sethulego Matebesi is an Associate Professor at the Department of Sociology at the University of the Free State.

Opinion article by Prof Sethulego Matebesi, Associate Professor at the Department of Sociology, University of the Free State


More than two centuries ago, Patrick Henry of the Boston Tea Party noted, “Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? … give me liberty or give me death.”

 

This statement resonates with the current political theatre set up in Nkandla near the homestead of former President Jacob Zuma. In attendance are many Zuma loyalists of all walks of life. For these Zuma loyalists, their presence at Nkandla symbolises their unparalleled love for their leader, whom they regard as a champion of the poor and the needy. But at the same time, I reckon they want to convey a bold message of their understanding of an expansive idea of what democracy and justice entail.

Notwithstanding this, democracy delivered Donald Trump to America and Zuma to South Africa. But, as intriguing as the contributions of many South African commentators who have compared the two former presidents, one thing is clear: they had all the power to the right things but failed.

The recent sentencing of Zuma by the Constitutional Court for contempt in defying its order to appear before the Judicial Commission of Inquiry into Allegations of State Capture, has created widespread anxiety. Some described this as a resounding affirmation of the independence of the judiciary and the rule of law. Along with this affirmation, so it is believed, is the possibility of solidifying political renewal. For the ardent Zuma supporters, however, the judgement represents a dangerous moment and a threat to the values of South African democracy. 

Ascendance to the political stage 

Undoubtedly, the sentencing of Zuma resurrects an ancient metaphor that life is like a never-ending play in which people are actors. Accordingly, democracy thrust Mr Zuma as the lead actor onto the stage of politics in South Africa in 2009. Of course, there had been several doubts about Zuma’s credibility, long before his ascendance to political power. But we live in a liberal era in which an extensive political background hardly matters anymore. However, history would later suggest that we have erred.

Since becoming President of South Africa, many euphemisms have been used to describe the leadership of Zuma. One of the most scathing euphemisms came from President Cyril Ramaphosa and Finance Minister Tito Mboweni’s reference to the Jacob Zuma presidency as nine wasted years. Similarly, taking a look at history, one wonders who of the twelve former presidents of the ANC shaped Zuma’s notions of power and political identity. Could it be that he embodies the spirit of the founders of the ANC, such as, for example, Josiah Gumede, John Dube, Oliver Tambo, or Sol Plaatje?
Some co-actors in the Nkandla play may mumble that Zuma’s sin is that he is a courageous leader who was not afraid to take risks in facing and dealing with the country’s challenges. For them, Zuma has been able – thus far – to successfully challenge the hegemony of the judiciary and the problems arising from rent-seeking legacies and patronage within the apartheid system that is now blamed on their leader. Such praise comes despite some viewing it as a political tenure that eschewed good governance and financial prudence principles.

A theatre script that went horribly wrong

A conclusion about the play’s primary character is that he has continued – from a supporter’s perspective – to depict the vulgarity of the judiciary in threatening democracy in the country. A root problem with the primary character is the intensity of commitment observed each time he displays his visceral hatred for the judiciary yet performs erratically and confusing when he explains why he did not use the opportunity to state his case. Instead, using his trademark of indiscernible pride, Zuma and his supporters are drawing hysterical comparisons between his sentencing and how the apartheid government was pardoned.

In essence, none of this is surprising. The convergence at Nkandla is symptomatic of an aggrieved group seeking to fight back and exorcising themselves of the destructive spirit of the ANC’s Nasrec elections in 2017. These are acts of delusion – the inevitable result of a political theatre script gone horribly wrong. 

The acid test for the health and vitality of democratic institutions

There have been deliberate attempts by the ruling elite in Africa to narrow the judiciary’s scope since the advent of the third wave of democratisation on the continent. As a result, the euphoria that sees South Africa as a beacon of entrenched constitutionalism in the Southern African region, is waning at an alarming rate. Even more disturbing is the disregard for the rule of law by the political elite, which can manifest itself at different societal levels.

One of the pathways to the current crisis has been the profoundly divisive factional battles of the ANC. The factional is the longer-term context in which the judiciary must affirm its centrality in providing appropriate enforcement mechanisms for constitutionalism. However, any form of back-door concessions for the political elite will be misguided and reckless. South Africans should never again proceed down the road of ideological politicking at the expense of constitutional supremacy. Such a path dissipates the rights of the people.

News Archive

“To forgive is not an obligation. It’s a choice.” – Prof Minow during Reconciliation Lecture
2014-03-05

“To forgive is not an obligation. It’s a choice.” – Prof Minow during the Third Annual Reconciliation Lecture entitled Forgiveness, Law and Justice.
Photo: Johan Roux

No one could have anticipated the atmosphere in which Prof Martha Minow would visit the Bloemfontein Campus. And no one could have predicted how apt the timing of her message would be. As this formidable Dean of Harvard University’s Law School stepped behind the podium, a latent tension edged through the crowded audience.

“The issue of getting along after conflict is urgent.”

With these few words, Prof Minow exposed the essence of not only her lecture, but also the central concern of the entire university community.

As an expert on issues surrounding racial justice, Prof Minow has worked across the globe in post-conflict societies. How can we prevent atrocities from happening? she asked. Her answer was an honest, “I don’t know.” What she is certain of, on the other hand, is that the usual practice of either silence or retribution does not work. “I think that silence produces rage – understandably – and retribution produces the cycle of violence. Rather than ignoring what happens, rather than retribution, it would be good to reach for something more.” This is where reconciliation comes in.

Prof Minow put forward the idea that forgiveness should accompany reconciliation efforts. She defined forgiveness as a conscious, deliberate decision to forego rightful grounds of resentment towards those who have committed a wrong. “To forgive then, in this definition, is not an obligation. It’s a choice. And it’s held by the one who was harmed,” she explained.

Letting go of resentment cannot be forced – not even by the law. What the law can do, though, is either to encourage or discourage forgiveness. Prof Minow showed how the law can construct adversarial processes that render forgiveness less likely, when indeed its intention was the opposite. “Or, law can give people chances to meet together in spaces where they may apologise and they may forgive,” she continued. This point introduced some surprising revelations about our Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC).

Indeed, studies do report ambivalence, disappointment and mixed views about the TRC. Whatever our views are on its success, Prof Minow reported that people across the world wonder how South African did it. “It may not work entirely inside the country; outside the country it’s had a huge effect. It’s a touchstone for transitional justice.”

The TRC “seems to have coincided with, and maybe contributed to, the relatively peaceful political transition to democracy that is, frankly, an absolute miracle.” What came as a surprise to many is this: the fact that the TRC has affected transitional justice efforts in forty jurisdictions, including Rwanda, Sierra Leone, Cambodia and Liberia. It has even inspired the creation of a TRC in Greensborough, North Carolina, in the United States.

There are no blueprints for solving conflict, though. “But the possibility of something other than criminal trials, something other than war, something other than silence – that’s why the TRC, I think, has been such an exemplar to the world,” she commended.

Court decision cannot rebuild a society, though. Only individuals can forgive. Only individuals can start with purposeful, daily decisions to forgive and forge a common future. Forgiveness is rather like kindness, she suggested. It’s a resource without limits. It’s not scarce like water or money. It’s within our reach. But if it’s forced, it’s not forgiveness.

“It is good,” Prof Minow warned, “to be cautious about the use of law to deliberately shape or manipulate the feelings of any individual. But it is no less important to admit that law does affect human beings, not just in its results, but in its process.” And then we must take responsibility for how we use that law.

“A government can judge, but only people can forgive.” As Prof Minow’s words lingered, the air suddenly seemed a bit more buoyant.

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