Put black women at the centre of the national dialogue

In her book, Teaching to Transgress, bell hooks, the African American feminist, writer and revolutionary, wrote: “I came to theory, because I was hurting — the pain within me was so intense that I could not go on living. I came to theory desperate, wanting to comprehend — to grasp what was happening within and around me. Most importantly, I wanted to make the hurt go away. I saw in theory then a location for healing.”

Women all over the world, especially black women who struggle for a life of dignity, liberty and freedom, see themselves and their experiences in the words of bell hooks. Here in South Africa, she resonates with the women whose lives are shaped by the suffocating legacies of hundreds of years of colonialism and apartheid, the unrelenting and often violent patriarchal system, institutionalised and internalised misogynoir, racism, structural deprivations and the wretched lives on the margins of our society.

In these past months, calls for an “all-inclusive national dialogue” have been elevated by the president, the foundations of former presidents and other pre-eminent South Africans. However, the idea of a national dialogue has been around for much longer. As far back as 2017, people like Mcebisi Jonas, other activists and thinkers have been calling for a national dialogue to map out a “new national reset agenda”. Though there are some differences in how we understand the nature of our problems, there is recognition that ours is a country and a people with deep crises. We need a national reset and a process that will craft a new path towards a society envisaged in the spirit, the letter and values of our constitution.

Following the current debate on the national dialogue, I have found myself looking back at the voices and communities that have been making similar calls and for many years. In June 2023, commemorating the “annimisery” of the 1913 Native Land Act, organisations of mining host communities, rural democracy and land rights activists, social movements and communities of struggle, reiterated their calls for a national process to address the government’s failure to secure the rights enshrined in section 25(6) of the constitution.

For more than 20 years now, these movements have argued that at the heart of the government’s failure to secure land rights of people who live in former Bantustans is lack of political will and a skewed understanding of the nature of land rights of people who live in communal areas. Despite the politically charged rhetoric about land, the constitutionally-protected land rights of 17-million South Africans remain insecure and, in many cases, have been trampled on by the same government that is supposed to uphold them.

Faced with government betrayal, these communities of struggle have successfully fought for their rights in the courts of this country and won some important victories. They led the country in building case law and progressive jurisprudence that protects the land rights of people who live in South Africa’s former reserves or Bantustans. Even with these victories, the government has simply failed to carry out its responsibility and, in many cases, colluded with mining companies, corrupt business cronies and some morally compromised traditional leaders and undermined people’s land rights.

Many who live in those areas are black women. These women are the descendants of those women Phyllis Ntantala wrote about in her famous essay, “The Widows of the Reserves”, those women whose husbands were torn away from them by the migrant labour system that took them to the work in the cities and in the mines. Of course, land is only one of the many challenges facing women. Women continue to live in fear because of the scourge of gender-based violence and femicide. At home, in places of work, in the countryside, in the cities and even in the churches, no woman is safe, not even grandmothers or infants. Grandmothers, including women beyond the age of 70, are routinely raped by men young enough to be their grandsons.

Our society is broken. Women carry a disproportionate portion of the burden of a broken society. Every social ill and violence is registered on the lives and bodies of women. As the African American writer, feminist and poet, Audre Lorde wrote: “it is women’s blood that congeals on the floor”.

Every social ill and violence is registered on the lives and bodies of women. As the African American writer, feminist and poet, Audre Lorde wrote: 'it is women’s blood that congeals on the floor'

Those who are married to migrant men or have children with them, must watch as their children are shunned and called names in our increasingly xenophobic villages and townships. In the former mining towns of the East Rand, women have been reporting abnormal reproductive illnesses. They have also reported an increase in compromised maternal health and children born with diseases. They believe these are directly related to the toxicity caused by mining. Whether this is the case or not, the fact is that something is negatively affecting women’s health. Despite this, clinics and hospitals have not made any follow-up and there are no serious studies and research to cure the diseases affecting these women.

Now, many readers are probably wondering what this has to do with the national dialogue. Some are probably rolling their eyes at what they may see as a rehash of a litany of well-known problems.

I am suggesting that we approach the national dialogue from a clear standpoint. And that is the history, lived experiences and perspective of those women whose lives continue to be marked by triple oppression — the intersection of racism, sexism and economic exploitation.

Such an approach is not new. As far back as 1954, the Federation of South African Women argued for the importance of such a clear standpoint and articulated their vision of South Africa in the Women’s Charter. That document remains the bedrock of the South African women’s movements. Those women also warned about men’s blindness to the systems of women’s oppression or outright collusion because of patriarchal privilege. Speaking of how the law continued to be an “obstacle for women”, the 1954 charter stated: “This intolerable condition would not be allowed to continue were it not for the refusal of a large section of our menfolk to concede to us women the rights and privileges which they seek for themselves.”

In 2024, much progress has been made and South African women enjoy formal equality and all rights that are enshrined in our constitution. Unfortunately, if the women who drafted the 1954 charter woke up, they would be disappointed to find that for the majority of women today such rights are still unattainable because in large part the state has not only failed to lead the charge for a transformational agenda, but has also passed laws and policies that reproduce the apartheid spatial logic and have held back women, especially those who live in the former reserves. So, for the “all-inclusive national dialogue” to successfully help set us towards a fairer democracy and a more just society, I believe we should start at the beginning; clarify our meanings, our purpose and agree on the process.

First, we should agree on the meaning of “inclusive”, which runs through a lot of the documents concerning the national dialogue. Do we have the same understanding? Is it possible to agree on principles, so that patriarchy and misogyny are not platformed in the name of national unity. For example, our constitution secures freedom of religion, belief systems and cultures. The constitution also states that this is subject to the equality clause. Despite this, we have seen many cases of gross levels of sexual abuse and rape by leaders of South African churches. But it is not only the outliers in the churches. The very institution of traditional leadership is often in disrepute because some traditional leaders, continue to treat women as citizens of lower status. They abuse their power and victimise poor people, especially women. Despite knowing about these practices, the government often turns a blind eye. And at times, they approve of these tendencies in the name of that much-abused concept, “African culture”.

Second, we should ask: How inclusive is this process? Whose voices are heard? Whose experiences are acknowledged? Who sets the agenda? What is the agenda? Who speaks with whom and for whom? How do we ensure that we do not end up with a forum of “insiders” and secure the inclusion and effective participation of those who are often left outside?

In his opening of parliament address, when the president spoke of the national dialogue, he talked about a process like the Freedom Charter. This gave comfort to those of us who want to see the national dialogue be more than a national convention of this country’s elites negotiating among themselves about our future. However, the Freedom Charter process remains relevant because it was more than the 1955 gathering in Kliptown. Before that day, the ANC had sent volunteers across the country to listen and learn as people articulated their vision for their country. So, more than producing a list of demands, the process that led to the adoption of the freedom charter was also about connecting and developing a common understanding.

I am not suggesting that we should repeat the Freedom Charter campaign. My point is that the Freedom Charter was about the process that led to 1955 as well as the process of adoption in Kliptown and afterwards. Since then, South Africans have successfully developed other campaigns and processes that have ensured wider participation. In the early 1990s, the Women’s National Coalition developed a countrywide campaign that led to the drafting of the Charter for Effective Equality. The very process of constitution making also incorporated the participation of ordinary South Africans. Since its establishment, the Constitutional Court has been leading in the development of jurisprudence on meaningful participation in the making of legislation and policies of our country. So, at the very least, the national dialogue process must meet those standards.

Third, we should be clear about the purpose and the outcome we desire. In addition to the president, the foundations of former presidents and pre-eminent South Africans, the business community has also indicated support for the national dialogue that will lead to a social compact for a better South Africa. The starting point should be about building a country in which we are all truly included as opposed to simply building an economy. The experience of 30 years of “building a viable economy” is that even when the economy is vibrant, this does not automatically mean a better life for those women in the countryside, in the townships, in the informal settlements and in the decaying inner cities. The process must be intentional and deliberate about the society we seek to build and the place of the national dialogue in that effort.

We need to clarify what we seek to achieve and develop principles that will guide us, including that whatever costs may arise from an underperforming economy cannot be pushed down on the lowest paid people. Words like “social compacting” have been brandished about. What does this mean? When people speak of the business community participating in the national dialogue for the “good of the country” what do they mean? What does this mean? We should be clear that this is more than a discussion on the “economy” and define “social good” together and in ways that prioritise people and their quality of life. No-one has thought more about the solutions than the people who live in the mining host communities. So, if the Mining Council of South Africa wants a real and meaningful dialogue, it is important that it sits down with those who are directly affected.

The African American writer, civil rights activist and humanist, James Baldwin, famously wrote: “Anyone who has ever struggled with poverty knows how extremely expensive it is to be poor; and if one is a member of a captive population, economically speaking, one’s feet have simply been placed on the treadmill forever.” In this country, black women’s feet have always been on the treadmill. They have built alliances of solidarity with each other and communities of struggle because, like bell hooks, “they are hurting”.

As the Sepedi maxim says, basadi tshwara thipa ka bogaleng — women hold the sharpest end of the knife. Yes, centring black women’s lives, experiences and knowledge will not resolve all the problems of this country. But one thing is clear: this country’s problems cannot be solved without addressing the problems facing black women.

• Gasa is a feminist, researcher and writer on land, politics and cultural issues.