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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

Sites of memory. Sites of trauma. Sites of healing.
2015-04-01

Judge Albie Sachs – human rights activist and co-creator of South Africa’s constitution – presented the first Vice Chancellor’s Lecture on Trauma, Memory, and Representations of the Past on 26 March 2015 on the Bloemfontein Campus.

His lecture, ‘Sites of memory, sites of conscience’, forms part of a series of lectures that will focus on how the creative arts represent trauma and memory – and how these representations may ultimately pave the way to healing historical wounds. This series is incorporated into the five-year research project, led by Prof Pumla Gobodo-Madikizela, and funded by the Mellon Foundation.

Sites of memory and conscience – and healing

“Deep in solitary confinement, I read in the Bible: ‘the lion lay down with the lamb … swords will be beaten into ploughshares.’” And with these opening words, Judge Sachs took the audience on a wistful journey to the places in our country that ache from the past but are reaching for a better future at the same time.

Some of the sites of memory and conscience Judge Sachs discussed included the Apartheid Museum, Liliesleaf, District Six Museum, and the Red Location Museum. But perhaps most powerful of them all is Robben Island.

Robben Island

“The strength of Robben Island,” Judge Sachs said, “comes from its isolation. Its quietness speaks”. Former prisoners of the island now accompany visitors on their tours of the site, retelling their personal experiences. It was found that, the quieter the ex-prisoners imparted their stories, “the gentler and softer their memories; the more powerful the impact,” Judge Sachs remarked. Instead of anger and denouncement, this reverence provides a space for visitors’ own emotions to emerge. This intense and powerful site has become a living memory elevated into a place of healing.

After Judge Sachs visited the National Women’s Memorial in Bloemfontein some years ago, he came to an acute realisation as he read the stories, experienced the grief, and saw the small relics that imprisoned commandoes from Ceylon and St Helena sculpted. “It’s so like us,” he thought, “our people on Robben Island making a saxophone out of seaweed, our people carving little things. It was so like us. It was another form of inhumanity to human beings in another period.”

The Constitutional Court

The Constitutional Court next to the Old Fort Prison is also a profound site of trauma and healing. Bricks from the awaiting trial lock-up were built into the court chambers. “We don’t suppress it, we don’t say let’s move on. We acknowledge the pain of the past. We live in it, but we are not trapped in it. We South Africans are capable of transcending, of getting beyond it,” Judge Sachs said.

Transforming swords into ploughshares

Judge Sachs had great praise for Prof Gobodo-Madikizela’s research project on Trauma, Memory, and Representations of the Past. “You convert and transform the very swords, the very instruments, the very metal in our country. In a sense, you almost transform the very people and thoughts and dreams and fears and terrors into the ploughshares; into positivity.”

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