There's been a lot of loose and lazy talk about how the pandemic is going to change the world and that there won't be any going back to the "old" ways of doing things and all that.
And that maxim about never letting a good crisis go to waste has been deployed to good effect for the umpteenth time. But we've been here before. And despite such fervent assertions, change has often proved hard to bring about.
The pandemic, with its horrible human harvest, has instilled fear, uncertainty and absolute pandemonium like no other natural calamity in recent history, reminding us yet again of the fragility and fickleness of life itself.
People who've appeared on the face of it in rude health and almost indestructible are being felled by the disease with terrifying regularity. How does one plan or strategise against an invisible enemy? Death not only stalks the land but it's on everyone's lips.
One has no choice but to be matter-of-fact about these things: dust off that will and keep it safe, just in case. As the scriptures would say: be ready because you don't know the day or the hour.
It is unclear what kind of a wasteland those who survive this tsunami will inherit. It is difficult to prepare for a landscape that is not yet on the horizon. President Cyril Ramaphosa has been an enthusiastic purveyor of these fantasies.
He's been singing this hymn since the pandemic arrived. Let's not waste the crisis; let's take advantage of it. He was at it again when he addressed the Black Management Forum two weeks ago: "We want to emerge from this crisis with an economy that is fundamentally different from what we had before, that is more inclusive, that creates more jobs, and that provides more opportunities for new entrants." Magic. Absolutely marvellous.
What these wonderful people can't tell us is why they are unable to do these marvellous things for us in normal times. Why have they failed so lamentably in times devoid of conflicts or disasters to do basic things like keep sewage from running down our streets, provide clean water and secure and predictable electricity and, yes, stop comrades from looting state resources? Why do they need a crisis before they can perform their magic?
Why are they averse to doing normal work - or extraordinary things if they so wish - in normal times? It's like the religion of old before liberation theology roused it from slumber, when congregants would be told not to worry about their oppression or suffering on Earth because everything would be hunky-dory in the hereafter. An illusion.
But this is not a new gimmick. We were sold the same doggerel after the financial crisis more than a decade ago. Once the crisis was over, we were told, we'd see a more inclusive economy. It didn't happen.
Thabo Mbeki and Trevor Manuel had bequeathed us a fairly robust and resilient economy, which was able to withstand the vagaries the financial crisis could throw at it. For his sins, Mbeki was summarily thrown out of power.
Jacob Zuma and his cronies then went to town robbing the state blind. Instead of an inclusive economy, we now have state capture - looting on an unimaginable scale. It has left a once-vibrant economy teetering on the edge, ill-prepared to weather the buffeting from the pandemic.
Ramaphosa shouldn't be promising pie in the sky while his government utterly fails to tackle the life-and-death issues confronting us now
We've already seen a repeat performance of what happened after the first crisis. But, whereas state capture happened after the financial crisis, this time the money was stolen right out of the starting blocks. In the blink of an eye. And the looting has unfortunately coloured everything and cast a shadow over the government's campaign against Covid-19.
But any narrative of the good news yonder is often cast in very narrow, selfish and acquisitive terms. It's all about the economy, as if it's an island and, like magic, the economy will simply produce results.
Nobody is saying, if the ingredients that make for a robust economy aren't present now, what will cause them to materialise after the crisis? Also, people are not told what they need to do to deserve or achieve such a nirvana. They are like the washed and the sanctified who'll simply inherit the kingdom of God.
These are fairy tales. Nothing will come of it. Ramaphosa likes to talk in general terms, and it's deliberate. That way nobody can pin him down later. He's used this tactic, for instance, in saying vaccines will be available in the second or third quarter, which could be any time. The entire country is still waiting for vaccines. He needs to talk about feasible and tangible deliverables. What, how, when.
The reason we're so far behind with our vaccination rollout is because, when other countries were frantically acquiring drugs, our ministers were busy deciding what type of underwear we were allowed to buy and which shops had official permission to sell things like chicken legs or chakalaka. And turning a blind eye as security forces harassed innocent civilians.
There was an element of capriciousness about the whole thing. Ministers saw the lockdown as an opportunity to boss people around or flex their muscles. We would probably not be where we are today - and some lives could have been saved - if they had concentrated on stuff that mattered, like trying to source vaccines.
Ramaphosa shouldn't be promising pie in the sky while his government utterly fails to tackle the life-and-death issues confronting us now.
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