The ANC survives only thanks to a myth that grows more ephemeral by the day

What are we to make of the former liberation movement that was responsible for Marikana, and whose leaders resemble the dregs of the homeland governments?

Deputy President David Mabuza and President Cyril Ramaphosa share a lighthearted moment on January 8 at the Peter Mokaba Stadium in Polokwane, Limpopo, where the ANC celebrated its 110th birthday. The party's performance in government has been beyond woeful, the writer says.
Deputy President David Mabuza and President Cyril Ramaphosa share a lighthearted moment on January 8 at the Peter Mokaba Stadium in Polokwane, Limpopo, where the ANC celebrated its 110th birthday. The party's performance in government has been beyond woeful, the writer says. (Alaister Russell)

It was never supposed to turn out this way.

The ANC’s performance in government — the incompetence, corruption, misuse of state resources and the decadent display of unearned and often stolen wealth — has been a disappointment and a tragedy.

But it has also forced many people to look back and almost change their views of the past.

Under apartheid we tended to see things in black or white — never shades of grey. Apartheid was evil, but what sustained us was the fact that a glorious day was beckoning. “Victory is certain,”  was a popular slogan.

That day finally arrived but, alas, it has turned into a nightmare. This nightmarish scenario that we hadn’t bargained for has left us befuddled and confused. Often one doesn’t know whether to listen to one’s conscience and scream or to bite one’s tongue. For some it’s still taboo to criticise one’s own side.

The liberation movements were banned under apartheid and quoting what they said was not allowed — and pictures of imprisoned leaders could not be published. Many people saw a picture of Nelson Mandela for the first time on the eve of his release from prison in February 1990, that famous photo with then president FW de Klerk.

Supporters often didn’t know what their leaders looked like and didn’t get to hear what they said about developments in the country. Everything was either through the grapevine or smuggled texts and broadcasts from prison or exile. And so something of a myth developed around especially the ANC and its leadership.

The leaders walked on water, mini-messiahs who could do no wrong. When they came back from exile or jail, we stood aside and allowed them to take that which belonged to them, power.

The fact that they had had no experience in running anything like an advanced economy, or that some of them spent years in countries that would be considered failed states, didn’t bother us. And we  never thought for a moment they could be corruptible or dishonest.

Well, the myth has now collided with reality. We’ve discovered to our horror that our leaders have feet of clay. Some people still can’t believe what they’re witnessing. They’re still stunned. They are in denial.

We never for one moment envisaged the monumental blunders the new government would commit with such gay abandon. How in good conscience do you commemorate or rail against the Sharpeville massacre if you yourself are responsible for the atrocities in Marikana?

The workers in Marikana were gunned down, not by an enemy seeking to suppress their aspirations, but by agents of their own government, which makes it even worse.

We’ve discovered to our horror that our leaders have feet of clay

The utter incompetence, corruption, arrogance and pomposity of the ANC elite forces us to think uncomfortable, even sacrilegious, thoughts — to look back and compare the situation then and now, and reassess our views in light of our current experiences.

Take a young man who grew up in Bophuthatswana, an independent homeland under strongman Lucas Mangope. The streets were clean and the place was relatively crime-free.

But he adored the ANC, and hated Mangope, whom he saw as nothing but a sellout and an apartheid bagman, and dreamt of the day his organisation would take over the country.

His dream has been fulfilled. The ANC is running the country. But Mmabatho, the city Mangope built, is filthy and a dumping site. Sewage runs down the street. Every day the young man wakes up to reports of senior members of his party implicated in wrongdoing and towns and cities without water or electricity.

He can’t take a train because stations have been vandalised and infrastructure stolen. What is he to make of his organisation? What does he think of Mangope? Does he still  think the homeland leader was a good-for-nothing apartheid stooge? What does he now think of the past? One suspects the young man, if he’s honest, will re-evaluate or even change his views.

People hated apartheid with a passion, but they reserved particular animus for so-called homeland leaders, the collaborators accused of accepting crumbs from the master’s table. The thrust of the struggle was to boycott the system and make it unworkable. Homelands therefore were to be isolated.

But the ANC has had no qualms embracing apartheid apologists, leaving its supporters totally confused. Homeland leaders would have felt very much at home in the organisation.

Even Chief Patrick Mphephu of the Venda, the dumbest of the lot, would have looked the part alongside the likes of Bathabile Dlamini, Nathi Nhleko, David Mahlobo or even David Mabuza. There’s just no daylight between those guys and the lot in charge now.

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There’s a tendency to draw comparisons between apartheid and the current dispensation. But they were supposed to be chalk and cheese. The fact that people are inclined to compare the two probably means that the new dispensation has lost its way. But maybe the way to illuminate the debate is by way of examples.

John Vorster lost his job as prime minister after the information scandal and died a discredited man. In two of the corruption mega-scandals to rock the ANC — the arms deal and Nkandla — nobody has lost his job or gone to jail. Jacob Zuma, implicated in both, is basking unperturbed in his homestead.

The failure or refusal to reflect and reassess the situation in light of current experiences has led to a sense of denial. People continue to look at the situation with “old” eyes despite developments that may contradict their perspectives. My leader, right or wrong. It is this denial that  keeps the likes of Zuma and the ANC in contention.

The new regime has left us poorer, but wiser. The question is: what are we going do with that wisdom?


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