To the top from nowhere

There is a lot of big, important stuff happening in South Africa and the world at the moment: Barack Obama’s transition plans, the ongoing global economic down-turn, climate change (we’ve been having some crazy weather in Cape Town lately), and the breakaway party from the ANC here in South Africa.

But this week, it was a fairly short interview on the radio that made the biggest impression on me. It was an interview with Sibusiso Vilane, about his book, called To the Top from Nowhere.

I don’t know if you’ve heard of Sibusiso Vilane, but if you haven’t you should have. In fact, he should be a household name across the length and breadth of our continent, as far as I’m concerned. Vilane is the first black African to have climbed Mount Everest. And he did it not once, but twice. But he didn’t stop there. He has gone on to become a member of one of the most elite clubs in the world. It’s called the Seven Summits club, and there are only 198 members of this club in the whole world (six of them are South African).

Members of the Seven Summits club have successfully climbed the highest mountain on each of the seven continents. Vilane gained membership to the club in June of this year, when he ascended Mt Denali (McKinley), in Alaska.

Vilane was a game ranger in Swaziland, when he met the man who introduced him to climbing, and who became his benefactor, helping him find the funding for his Everest expedition. He began climbing in 1996, and first summitted Everest in May 2003.

In January 2008, Vilane and Alex Harris became the first South Africans to walk to the South Pole completely unassisted.

In 2006, President Thabo Mbeki bestowed the Order of Ikhamanga (Bronze) on Vilane, in recognition of his efforts.  The Order of Ikhamanga is given to South Africans who have excelled in the fields of arts, culture, literature, music and sports.

What impressed me, listening to Vilane, was his quiet confidence and modesty. He has achieved extraordinary things, but has no overblown sense of his own importance. He simply sets his goals, and then goes about achieving them.

A week after Barack Obama was elected President of the US, here I was, listening to another man of African descent who has gone from very humble beginnings to the very highest achievements (in this case, literally the highest!).

Vilane’s picture did appear on the front page of the newspapers when he first climbed Everest, but other than that, media coverage of him has not been spectacular. It just got me wondering about the many, many Africans there are who are quietly achieving great things, in every corner of the globe. We don’t hear enough about them, and we don’t listen enough to them, to hear their stories and learn from their experiences.

The worst form of tabloid journalism

We’re in Uganda for the Citizen Journalism in Africa in-country training. Yesterday, we had a session covering the difference in the kind of news coverage between mainstream media and citizen journalism. Participants had a look at two Ugandan newspapers, to assess the kind of stories that are covered: the Daily Monitor, and the Red Pepper — seeing these are the only two newspapers readily available at our hotel.

As we looked through the two papers, I found myself utterly shocked by the Red Pepper. This is a sensationalist tabloid, rather like the Voice and Die Son, which we get in Cape Town. But it’s way worse than anything I’ve seen before.

Die Son and the Voice are sensationalist and often use offensive and insulting language, or publish nauseating pictures of victims of crime. But the Red Pepper goes several steps beyond that.

Yesterday, the paper carried a story about a school teacher who’d been having sex with a 12-year old pupil. So far, so ordinary. But the story went into great graphic detail about how that sex took place, using extremely crude language. The story was not written to convey horror and outrage at this abuse. Rather, it descended into pornography — it seemed designed to titillate readers rather than shock them. To top it all, the young girl’s photo was published — poor consolation that her name was withheld — there she was for all the world (and her friends, family, schoolmates and neighbours to see).

Through its coverage, the Red Pepper shamefully abused that poor girl all over again.

This morning, on my way to breakfast in the hotel, I passed the newspaper stand. The Red Pepper today has a front page story about a young man who was killed — allegedly by his brother, using a panga. While the Daily Monitor carries this story as a brief paragraph, saying the two fought over money. But the Red Pepper has it as a front page splash, saying the two fought over a woman (but they put it way more crudely than that). And there, on the front page, is a full colour picture of the dead man, his throat slit open.

I was so nauseated I could hardly eat my breakfast.

Some weeks ago during the xenophobic violence in South Africa, The Times published on the front page, a shocking photo of a mob burning a man to death. I would rather they hadn’t but I can buy the argument that the photo was justified, in order to make South Africans aware of what was happening. Arguably, that photo could be seen to be in the public interest. But the photo on the front page of Red Pepper today is about a dispute between two individuals. There is no public interest or other higher justification for publishing it. It’s completely gratuitous.

A week is a long, long time

There’s an old saying, that a week is a long time in politics. Tell me about it! What a week it’s been — in politics and in finance. I went on a short trip to Europe, and by the time I got back to South Africa, everything had changed: in politics in South Africa, and in finance around the world.

In South Africa, Jacob Zuma’s court case had been thrown out, and Thabo Mbeki had been forced to resign.

I saw headlines about the Zuma case while I was in London — and of course I immediately turned to the Internet to get all the details. How strange — the Zuma faction had been making all sorts of noises about how the judiciary was counter-revolutionary and could not be trusted — and how they were praising the judge for ruling in their favour. Not only that, but the judge had apparently agreed with the argument that there was a conspiracy against Zuma.

A friend who’s a former banker in London pulled out the Financial Times — there was Zuma, right on the front page, dancing his victory dance, and singing his favourite song, “bring me my machine gun.” “This is not good for South Africa,” said my friend. “This newspaper is read by all the bankers and financial investors. How do you think they will react to see the next president of South Africa singing such a warlike song?”

The judgment in the Zuma case motivated and empowered his supporters to move against Thabo Mbeki, gathering enough support within the ANC’s top structures to force him to resign. Sad for Mbeki, and shocking for South Africa, but overall a good sign for democracy.

I’m not happy that Zuma’s now a shoe-in as president. But the axing of party leaders and the downfall of prime ministers and presidents is what happens all the time in working democracies. Similar scenes have played out in Britain many times, for example — Margaret Thatcher was ousted in a similar way, and at the moment Prime Minister Gordon Brown faces a growing challenge to his leadership.

I missed Thabo Mbeki’s resignation speech, as I was on the plane to Entebbe, but here in Uganda people are commenting about how impressive it is that Mbeki bowed to the will of his party, and resigned. Mbeki may have had many failings as a president, but his stepping down gracefully has to be commended. What a contrast to the likes of Mugabe in Zimbabwe, Kibaki in Kenya, and Uganda’s own Museveni, who’s been in office forever.

In the world of finance, too the ground has shifted. Two sundays ago, I was with some friends in the City of London, the financial district — we walked past the Lehman Brothers building — an imposing skyscraper, looking down on the street with its darkened glass façade. How confident, stable and arrogant it looked. The next day, Lehman Brothers, one of the oldest banks in America, was bankrupt — and almost all of the employees in that huge building out of a job.

Sometimes, when my life as a freelancer seems insecure and risky, I wonder whether I should have gone for a more stable, secure job — something in government, or banking maybe. So much for that — the events of the past week or two serve as a powerful lesson — in life, nothing is certain, there are never any guarantees.

First published on Citizen Journalism in Africa on 23rd September 08

In support of Zapiro

At present there’s quite a heated debate going on in South Africa over a cartoon that appeared in the Sunday Times last Sunday.  The cartoon depicts Jacob Zuma, the president of the ANC and the man most likely to be the next president of South Africa. Zuma is seen undoing his trousers, while people representing the ANC, SACP, Cosatu and the ANC Youth League are holding down a woman, representing the justice system. The men are urging Zuma to rape the woman.

The cartoon has led to an outcry, with a range of views being expressed in  blogs and letters, and calls to radio stations. Some people have called for Zapiro, probably South Africa’s most famous and respected political cartoonist, to be fired. Some of these critics have objected to the implied reference to Zuma’s trial for rape, saying this is unfair, since he was found not guilty. Others have objected to the rape imagery, saying either that it makes light of rape, or that it is insensitive given the high levels of rape in South Africa.

Some of Zapiro’s critics have likened the cartoonist to David Bullard, a columnist for the Sunday Times who was fired a few months back, after a column of his which praised colonialism and made some disparaging remarks about Africans.

I’m not a knee-jerk supporter of the Sunday Times or of any criticism of public figures — I think the standard of journalism at the Times has been dropping.  Over the last month in particular, it has carried a couple of front page stories, making serious allegations and splashed with enormous banner headlines, that seem to have been poorly sourced and researched. But I do think the Zapiro cartoon can be defended.

Firstly, I think that the critics misunderstand the nature of metaphor, and of political cartoons. Zapiro is not depicting a literal rape. The cartoon uses the shocking, awful, violence and violation of rape as a metaphor — to comment on what it is that Zuma and his supporters are busy doing to the rule of law in South Africa. Secondly, the cartoon doesn’t make light of rape. Just because it’s called a ‘cartoon’, doesn’t mean it is trivialising things or trying to be funny. Its message is very serious.

I certainly don’t think the comparison to David Bullard is fair. Bullard’s remarks were racist, attributing negative qualities to an entire group of people. Zapiro’s cartoon crticisises specific public figures and organisations, for specific actions. That criticism might be overly harsh, but it’s not racist, and so does not overstep the boundaries of free speech in my view.

Yes, Zapiro’s cartoon is very shocking. It elicits a visceral response – it’s like a kick in the stomach. But let’s just think about the situation it’s referring to. Supporters of Jacob Zuma have lately been making some very disturbing comments about the judiciary. Some have gone so far as to call our top judges — judges with impeccable credentials — ‘counter-revolutionary’.

These comments, which are being repeated over and over again, are steadily undermining faith in, and respect for, our judicial system and thus for the rule of law. The rule of law is the bedrock of democracy. If that goes, society descends into chaos or tyranny. It is very dangerous territory that Zuma’s backers have dragged us into, and that I find that infinitely more worrying and disturbing than this cartoon.

First published on Citizen Journalism in Africa on Sept 10, 2008

Credibility Gap

A report in yesterday’s Sunday Times here in South Africa, provides a warning and food for serious thought.

A survey by Stellenbosch University’s Centre for International and Comparative Politics, compared the views and values held by the ‘elite’ to those held by ‘ordinary people’. The ‘elite’ were defined as people who hold top position in business, government, cultural and other institutions. The study found that there are some sharp differences between the perspectives of these two groups on issues such as politics, religion, homosexuality, corruption, and domestic violence.

The study found that both groups see family as the top priority followed by work. But after that, values start to differ. Religion is firmly in 3rd place among most members of the public, but much less so among the elite. And while the elite put politics in 4th place, ahead of friends and leisure time, members of the public put politics firmly in last place.

Even more interestingly, while the elite place a great deal of confidence in the Constitutional Court and other institutions of state, the public puts most confidence in the church.

This translates into other differences. For example, while elites believe in the right to abortion and support equal rights for homosexuals, most adults in the general public believe that both homosexuality and abortion are unjustified.

I don’t actually find this very surprising, but it is rather worrying, all the same. My own values are closer to those of the elites as outlined in the study, and I believe that in general, that approach is consistent with respect for human rights. It’s worrying to me that most South Africans don’t seem to buy into these progressive values.

But who’s fault is this? I believe the problem lies firmly with the elite, because they (or should I say we?) have not succeeded in taking most South Africans along with them. And one of main reasons for this is that the elite actually do not believe in what they say they believe. Their actions (or lack of action often), directly contradict their professed values. Ordinary citizens see this, and draw their own conclusions.

How easy it is to feel superior and self-righteous because one has the ‘correct’ beliefs — tolerant, progressive, in favour of diversity, against the death penalty, pro abortion and so on. But a sad event just a few weeks ago exposes all of this as hollow and hypocritical.

Let’s go back eight years to 2000, when the Constitutional Court made a ground-breaking judgment, in what’s become known as the Grootboom case. In 1998 Irene Grootboom, a resident of an informal settlement outside Cape Town, took the government to court after she and her neighbours were threatened with eviction. The case went all the way to the Constitutional Court, which ruled in 2000 that according to the Constitution, the state had an obligation to provide Grootboom and her neighbours with decent shelter and basic services.

The Grootboom ruling was hailed around the world. Lawyers and legal experts made careers and lots of money, interpreting and analysing the case over and over again. Dozens of journal articles were written about it. It has been lectured on by professors and studied by law students. The case is considered a key component of the jurisprudence of socio-economic rights.

But all of this meant nothing to Irene Grootboom. Back in the shack settlement near Cape Town, Grootboom’s life didn’t change one bit. After the judgment, she became a hero for her community. But despair and frustration soon set in, as the authorities repeatedly stalled on implementing the Court’s ruling.

Early in August this year, Irene Grootboom died, at the relatively young age of 39. Her health could no longer withstand the howling wind and the seeping rain, from which her overcrowded little shack failed to shelter her.

Ordinary South Africans go to church in their millions each Sunday. Through their churches they give millions of rands to help their fellow citizens in some way or another. They also hear the lesson about hypocrisy of the Pharisees (the political and religious elite in biblical Israel), and they draw their own parallels with what they see and hear in their own country. Small wonder they distrust state institutions and try to stay out of politics as much as they can.

This post first appeared on the Citizen Journalism in Africa portal.

Do Olympic protests show double standards?

I’m not much of a sports fan, but the Olympics are something else. There is something larger than life about it all, from the opening ceremony to the agony, triumph and glory that can be witnessed several times each day, until the end.

The Olympics are also very interesting because of the political context. With the games set in Beijing, a lot has been said and written about China, it’s human rights and environmental record, and its rise as a superpower.

The opening of the Games was spectacular. I’ve never seen such masterly use of performers, rhythm, light and colour to create patterns and moving shapes on such a scale. There were 2008 individual performers on the field, dancing and drumming and moving in unison.

It was compelling, jaw-dropping stuff, but it also made me feel a little uncomfortable. At times I had the unsettling feeling that each of those 2008 individuals was nothing more than a cog in a gigantic machine. Certainly the scale of things made the individual human seem tiny and insignificant.

But I wonder too, whether that uneasy feeling I had was evoked solely by the images on TV, and to what extent it was influenced by the views about China that have been expressed in the media recently. Views that paint China as a fearful, unfeeling machine-like force, about to become dominant in the world.

Much of my reflection over the past day or two has been sparked by a very interesting article by Brendan O’Neill, in the online magazine, Spiked (see www.spiked-online.com/index.php?/site/earticle/5562/).

O’Neill argues that a lot of the rhetoric about China, painting the country as a threatening, unfeeling, alien giant, is simply a reflection of double standards, prejudice, and insecurity on the part of the Western media. For example, O’Neill says that the Chinese have been criticised for going all-out to win as many gold medals as possible — as if this is somehow morally wrong, and not what every country is striving for.

He argues out that in coverage of the Games (and the run-up to them) in the Western media, the Chinese athletes are shown as a team, without much insight into their individual stories and personal dramas, while athletes from Britain and the US are presented in much greater depth. O’Neill argues that all of this reflects a form of racism: “Here, contemporary China-bashing has echoes of yesterday’s ‘Yellow Peril’ fears about the Chinese. The idea of the Chinese as peculiarly driven, unemotional and unforgiving is an old prejudice that is being rehabilitated on the back of the Olympic Games.”

I have noticed this kind of prejudice in South Africa. While disparaging comments about blacks or whites are not permitted, it’s still somehow seen as fine to depict Chinese or Japanese or Korean people as having slanty eyes, buck teeth and talking with a funny accent. You also hear comments on the radio such as, “I can’t really tell the difference between the Chinese, Japanese and Koreans” (Which is just as racist or xenophobic as saying “I can/can’t tell a Zambian or Malawian just by looking at them.”)

And several weeks ago, when a small community of Chinese South Africans went to court and won legal recognition that they had been discriminated against during Apartheid, all sorts of racist nonsense was spouted against them — including a very embarassing tirade by the Minister of Labour.

O’Neill’s article has caused me to do a lot of reflection. Certainly, I think one can criticise the actions and policies of the Chinese government. Its human rights record is dismal, it severely limits freedom of speech, and its policies in Africa are at times very worrying.

But criticism must be consistent. During the build-up to the Games, there were often quite violent protests as the Olympic flame made its way around the world by people outraged at China’s regular violation of human rights.  One could ask, though, whether the USA is presently that much better. Think of ongoing events in Iraq, and the prisoners detained in Guantanamo Bay. And just last week I was reading in the New York Times about how the military has prevented journalists from publishing photographs of dead soldiers in Afganistan and Iraq. And yet I wonder, would the expressions of outrage have been as many and as loud, would the protests have been as vociferous, had the 2008 Olympics been held in the USA?

Somehow, I doubt it.

(This post first appeared on the Citizen Journalism in Africa site on 11th August: www.citizenjournalismafrica.org)

Democracy in action

Earlier this week I read an article in the Financial Times about an American congressman named John Culberson who is doing something rather controversial. He’s using new technologies over the Internet, to provide live coverage of, and commentary on, Congressional committee meetings.

Culberson has been using his cell phone to send short messages to the internet via the social networking service, Twitter, and now he’s also started sending live video feeds directly from his cell phone, using a new service called Qik (For the FT article see http://ft.onet.pl/0,13117,a_qik_from_new_technology,artykul_ft.html. The Qik site is at http://qik.com/).

Qik allows a direct video feed from a cell phone to be streamed live to a web page. Viewers can type comments and questions back, which the phone user can see and respond to.

According to the newspaper article, the congressman says he’s doing this to enable citizens to take back control of government — it’s opening up the US Congress to public scrutiny in a completely new way. Apparently Culberson also tried to provide a live Qik feed from the Oval Office when he went to the White House to meet with the President — but he was blocked from doing that.

Qik may be new in allowing live video feeds, and Culberson may be getting a lot of publicity because of his position, but others have not been slow to become citizen journalists by using the potential of the Internet to place public representatives under scrutiny.

For example, the blog, Mzalendo (www.mzalendo.com/) provides detailed coverage of debates and discussions in the Kenyan Parliament. It’s the brainchild of two Kenyans — Ory Okolloh, and someone known only as “M”. On their site, they say they started the project was started because they “were frustrated by the fact that it is difficult to hold Kenyan Members of Parliament (MPs) accountable for their performance largely because information about their work in Parliament is not easily accessible.” They have certainly been instrumental in beginning to change that situation.

Anyhow, inspired by this example, I went off on Tuesday to the South African Parliament, to sit in on a public hearing held by the Portfolio Committee on Communications. They were discussing a proposed amendment to the Broadcasting Act, which will allow members of the board of the South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC) to be removed. (This is the latest in an ongoing dispute between the Committee, the SABC Board, and the SABC CEO, which has been covered in earlier posts on this site.)

When I arrived, a civil society coalition formed to mobilise for changes in the SABC, were making their presentation to the Committee. They were arguing that if the Act is amended, the changes should go further and incorporate measures to make sure the SABC board is free of political interference and that the Corporation is run in the interests of all South Africans. The discussion afterwards was lively and interesting.

I didn’t have time to do a proper citizen journalism job and report on the proceedings in detail, but I did haul out my cell phone and snap a couple of pictures. I also took some short audio recordings, just to prove that I could (one of my pics is attached to this post — a bit out of focus, I’m afraid).

Amid all the news we’ve had recently of attacks on the judiciary, and crises in our major institutions it was very heartening to me to be reminded that as a South African citizen, I am free to walk into Parliament, and sit in on almost any of the proceedings, and see my elected representatives at work. I can take photos, notes and sound recordings (even video) if I want to, and am free to publish the results. And to do all of this, all I need is some sort of ID to get through security. I don’t have to be a card-carrying journalist, or have any special title or position.

Of course, most South Africans live too far away from Parliament to be able to do this, but among those who are in easy travelling distance, I reckon far too few take advantage of this right, and go and monitor what’s going on.

I highly recommend it. It’s a great reminder of what democracy is all about.

(This post first appeared on the Citizen Journalism in Africa site on 7th August: www.citizenjournalismafrica.org)

Ashamed to be South African

At one time, during the years of apartheid, I used to be ashamed to be a South African. I remember my first ever overseas trip, when I was lucky enough to be part of a student exchange programme with an American university.

I would hate having to tell people I was from South Africa, as the comments or just funny looks would then follow. As a white South African I was considered guilty for apartheid, unless proven otherwise. But it was even worse when the odd person saw my South African-ness as a good thing. I remember cringing when I was travelling long-distance on a Greyhound bus, and during our introductions the person sitting next  to me exclaimed for everyone to hear: “You’re from South Africa! You all are doing the right thing down there!”

Then, there was a time when I was proud to be South African. I was in Kampala in late 1993 for work, and people in the streets and the marketplace would ask where I was from, and then excitedly chat about the upcoming elections set for April 94. During and after the elections, of course there was all the hype and it felt good to come from a country where we were trying and seemingly succeeding to overcome our differences. The wins in the rugby World Cup and soccer Africa Cup of Nations just fed the feeling of pride.

Then over the years we began to realise the ‘miracle’ was more hype than reality, that it would take a long time, and hard work, to redress wrongs, to ensure people had houses, water, and electricity — the basics for a decent life. Our government did many good things, but many things that were not so good. Our economy was growing, but the gap between the rich and poor was widening, there was Aids denialism and so on. Still, we were normal — not much better or worse than most other nations. I could still hold my head up in international company.

Lately, I’m starting to get that uncomfortable ashamed feeling again when I travel. The comments about South Africa are once again either angry or derisory. “Did you see the CNN report on racist white university students torturing black staff?”  “Your president says there’s no crisis in Zimbabwe!”, “Jacob Zuma is going to be your next president — ha ha ha!”, “How could Thabo Mbeki prematurely announce our president’s death?”

The low point came last night, when I was traveling with some Zambian friends in a Lusaka taxi. My friend was asking about the recent xenophobia in South Africa and saying he was worried about his sister who lives in Johannesburg. He was also talking about how he was hijacked when traveling in South Africa, and saying how he always has to watch his back in Johannesburg. I wanted to say things are not all THAT bad. Then over the radio came the news bulletin — with the story that the entire Zambian under-20 soccer team had had its luggage stolen at OR Tambo International airport. I just groaned and hung my head.

(This first appeared on the Citizen Journalism in Africa site on the 17th of July, 2008: www.citizenjournalismafrica.org)

The rich get richer…

Newspaper headlines in South Africa these days report on spiraling inflation, and warn that interest rates could be raised yet again. I’ve lost count of the number of times our Reserve Bank has hiked interest rates, and it’s beginning to take its toll. There are also reports of record numbers of South Africans defaulting on house, car and other payments. Even the banks have started changing their tune — for example, First National Bank has launched a major advertising campaign offering tips on saving money, and explaining that they’re getting tougher on granting credit.

But it’s not bad for everybody. Yesterday’s Business Times lead with the following headline: “SA’s dollar-millionaire club gets bigger, faster”. The story explains that the growth in the number of South Africans with wealth of over a million US dollars was greater than the global average. In South Africa there are now almost 14% more dollar millionaires than there were this time last year. The global average was a 6% increase in dollar millionaires.

In fact the biggest growth in dollar millionaires was in the Middle East, and there are significantly more millionaires in South America too. And lest you think our continent is being left out, South African millionaires weren’t the only ones doing well.  This year there are 10% more dollar millionaires in Africa than there were last year.

That might all be wonderful news, except for the fact that in Africa, unlike almost everywhere else in the world, poverty is increasing, and intensifying. In an era where governments and international organisations have set the goal of halving poverty by 2015, that is shocking. It’s shocking that between 1990 and 2004, the number of Africans living on less than 1 US dollar a day increased by 20%. But it’s worse than that. The number living on less than 50 US cents a day rose by a third during the same period. That means that in sub-Saharan Africa there are now over 121 million people trying to survive on less than 50 US cents a day. At the current exchange rate, that’s the equivalent of about 4 South African rands a day.

Now all this is happening while economies are growing. The rich are getting richer, and the poor, poorer. Economies are growing, but unemployment is increasing. Clearly something is very wrong.

I’m not an economist and don’t have easy answers, but surely we have to question the political and economic leadership of our countries and continent. We also have to look to ourselves. How have we allowed this to happen? In South Africa, are those of us in the middle classes so caught up in the pursuit of material wealth, the latest clothes, and the flashiest cars, that we have been prepared to ignore the increasing misery of our fellow citizens? What can and should we be doing to turn this around?

To give a picture of just how insane this is, the Sunday Times article also mentions that among the ultra-rich — those worth more than 30-million US dollars, the biggest increase was in Latin America, followed by Africa.

Now let’s get real. How much money does any one person need? Let’s say, it’s fine and acceptable to do well and be comfortable, and let’s be very accommodating and say it’s not excessive to have $1 million US dollars. But over $30 million? What do you do with money like that? You can only sleep in 1 bed at night, eat so many meals, drink so much fine wine. What do you do with the rest? What is the point?

Especially when your fellow citizens are spending every waking hour trying to scrape together enough money for just one daily meal.

(This was first posted on the Citizen Journalism in Africa site on June 30th, 2008: www.citizenjournalismafrica.org)

Killing for Zuma

A lot has already been said and written about this in the South African media, but I think it’s important enough for me to add my two-cents’ worth.

On Youth Day, June 16th, Julius Malema, the leader of the ANC Youth League, said at public rally that the youth were prepared to kill for Jacob Zuma — the ANC President and likely next president of South Africa. Zuma himself, who stood up to speak at the same meeting shortyl after Malema, did not publicly rebuke him at the time (though in the subsequent furore he has since criticised the remark).

In the outcry and outrage that followed this remark, Zuma at first defended Malema, and Malema himself refused to apologise, saying he didn’t mean the words literally. Then a few days later, Zwelinzima Vavi, the head of the giant trade union federation, Cosatu, said the organisation’s members would be willing to sacrifice their lives for Zuma.

I am heartened by the widespread outcry over this and the fact that South Africa’s Human Rights Commission has threatened legal action against both Vavi and Malema unless they retract their statements. But I’m deeply, deeply disturbed that the two men do not seem particularly sorry for what they said, and have tried to explain away their remarks, rather than retract them. But whether or not there are retractions and apologies, I’m disturbed that such thing were said at all.

I’m disturbed because I see in this kind of language, strong echoes of the kind of language used by Robert Mugabe. What Zuma and his supporters have in common with Mugabe is that they combine religious references, with a strong sense of menace and threat. Mugabe says only God can remove him from office, for example, while Zuma says the ANC will rule until Jesus returns.

Now, lest I am misunderstood, I’m not saying that Zuma, Malema and Vavi are like Mugabe in anything but their language. Yet. But that ‘yet’ is the crucial word. I am deeply disturbed my these recent statements because they illustrate a way of thinking — an elevation of people and personalities above principle and performance, and a sense that might is right — that they, as leaders, have been placed where they are by God — that they have a divine right to lead, no matter what.

This is deeply undemocratic. We need our elected leaders to understand, without a shadow of a doubt, that they are not placed there by God, but by us, the citizens. They have been elected by us to serve, not to rule. And if and when we feel that they are not serving us in the way we wish to be served, we have the right and the means, to fire them and find somebody else.

The language used by Vavi, Zuma and Malema is worrying because it represents a step, or a few steps, towards a Mugabe. Once you believe you are chosen by God, you soon believe you are entitled to rule and to rule forever. You start to believe that your words and thoughts are God-given, and that you can do anything you want. And you start to believe that your opponents are your enemy, that they’re on the side of evil. And when that happens, human rights disappear, and violence and torture become the order of the day.

As we in South Africa watch the unfolding of events north of the Limpopo we need to urgently look to our own back yard, lest we see a repeat performance in our own land, in 5, 10, 15 or 20 years from now.

(This post appeared on the Citizen Journalism in Africa website on 26th June 2008: www.citizenjournalismafrica.org)