First, let’s be clear — Phophi Ramathuba had it coming for publicly berating a patient, presumably Zimbabwean, in a Bela Bela hospital this week.
The blowback from sections of the public was, perhaps typically of SA today, relentless and unforgiving. Nothing but her head would satisfy her critics’ desire for punishment. Revenge even?
As has been pointed out many times, it was unbecoming for the Limpopo health MEC — who is a medical doctor — to conduct a bedside inquisition that could only serve to ridicule and humiliate the patient.
She may very well face professional sanction for that. And maybe a political slap on the wrist from her employer.
But in the broader scheme of things, Ramathuba’s outburst forced onto the national agenda an emotional and divisive issue that for some is too uncomfortable to discuss — how we as a country should deal with the migrants, mainly from elsewhere on the continent, who come to our shores in search of political shelter or just greener pastures.
Public opinion generally splits into two opposing camps that reflect the economic and spatial divide of what is supposed to be one nation.
On the one hand are the elites, of whatever race, who tend to lean towards a liberal, more laissez-faire approach, purportedly rooted in a culture of human rights. On the other are those who are affected by the uncontrolled influx of migrants into their communities, often in the inner cities and townships.
As with other critical issues, it is the former group whose views tend to dominate the public discourse. This is the group with a good command of what is effectively the language of power, English, and who do not have to live cheek by jowl with migrants, or compete with them for living space and jobs.
One argument for a less-strict immigration regime is that ours should be a more humane approach in keeping with our human rights ethos. It is a view few would quibble with.
Indignation about the ill-treatment of foreigners is understandable and totally justified.
But what do we say to our fellow South Africans whose human rights are violated by chronic unemployment, who in this day and age live in shacks or mud-and-stick houses, who use the humiliating bucket system in their homes and whose children attend pit-toilet schools? Or to the victims of the recent Krugersdorp gang rape, by illegal miners, many of whom are alleged to be foreign nationals?
Why does the elite’s anger at the mistreatment of migrants not apply to the abominable living conditions of fellow South Africans, who remain economic and social outsiders in their own country?
Ideologically, some have argued that in furtherance of pan-Africanism, people from elsewhere in the continent should be allowed unhindered entry into SA.
This is based on a false premise, because pan-Africanism was never predicated on SA being the only country to abolish its borders and relinquish its sovereignty, while all others retained theirs. Presumably we would burn the flag and scrap our borders in that hare-brained process.
While it is true that SA’s destiny and prosperity are inextricably linked with the rest of the continent, especially the subregion, successful integration will certainly not come from anarchic adventurism.
In her tirade, Ramathuba directed her capacity frustrations at a helpless patient. She should rather have been talking to the political leaders in question
In her tirade, Ramathuba directed her capacity frustrations at a helpless patient. She should rather have been talking to the political leaders in question — Zimbabwe’s President Emmerson Mnangagwa (whom she cited) and our own President Cyril Ramaphosa.
The one for destroying his country’s economy and forcing his compatriots to seek a better life abroad. The other for failing to get on top of our immigration crisis.
But apropos public conversations among the elite, it’s concerning how this class, which considers itself the champion of democracy, was quick to resort to the tried and tested South African tactic of using labels, rather than persuasive argument, to make its case.
As has become de rigueur on matters of immigration, “xenophobia” was used liberally to tag those who showed even the slightest sympathy to the essence of Ramathuba’s message.
If we pride ourselves on being a democracy, we must encourage a culture in which both the government and the country’s elites make a special effort to listen to the concerns of those occupying the lowest social stratum — who are poor, probably unemployed and might struggle with the Queen’s English — even if we think they are wrong.
What will our democracy be worth if we ignore the concerns of a substantial portion of the population and freeze the aggrieved out of national discourse? Or if we ridicule and trivialise their issues?
Finally, on the immigration question, should we not go easy on the “xenophobe” label, and instead try listening more to the cry of fellow South Africans who live truly wretched lives in what is reputed to be Africa’s most advanced economy? To have some empathy for them? Surely that would be true ubuntu and human compassion?





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