There wasn’t much in the public sphere this week about the 32nd anniversary of Chris Hani’s killing, what with Donald Trump’s on-again, off-again tariff war with China’s Xi Jinping hogging headlines across the globe.
At home, the leaders of the government of national unity (GNU) were busy applying plaster to the widening cracks between them, to prevent further splits. Harmonising the GNU’s agenda is proving an insurmountable task, given the disparate interests of the parties to it.
In the eyes of many, Hani represented respectable, popular black leadership when a bullet from Janusz Waluś felled him. He personified victory against a system that infantilised black people and white women. Hani represented hope. He was the black Moses who did not get to see the promised land. Yet he gave us a sense that the anti-apartheid leadership would, as Steve Biko also told us, gift the world a humanity hitherto unseen in leadership.
Even when he warned that he feared “liberators” may emerge “as elitists ... who drive Mercedes-Benzes and use [the] resources of this country to live in palaces and gather riches”, we knew then he was preoccupied, not simply with how to attain freedom, but also with how to ensure leaders do not misconstrue freedom as an opportunity to turn rondavels at Nkandla into the palaces of which he spoke — or, for that matter, to use couches as bank accounts in which to stash dollars. For many, Hani embodied the best of us. He represented a chance for us to restore, at scale, the dignity that apartheid had taken away.
That is why, when former Democratic Party leader Tony Leon came up with the “Fight Back” campaign ahead of the 1999 elections, many pushed back against it, even if they did not support former president Thabo Mbeki. It was “too soon” after the advent of democracy for a black leader to be spoken to so condescendingly by a white counterpart. Mbeki was to succeed Nelson Mandela with the backing of a two-thirds majority. This electoral outcome was a decisive vote of confidence in him and the party of Oliver Tambo, Walter Sisulu and the other political greats of yesteryear.
The question we must answer is whether the leaders we have chosen over the years, as well as those we have today, are the embodiment of what Hani stood for.
Decades later, it is clear Hani’s comrades messed up.
Waluś, Hani’s unrepentant killer, chillingly told us recently from his Polish home that black people can’t lead a country. He also told us that, despite 30 years of democracy in South Africa, his view remains that black people should be allowed to vote only in “their homelands”, and not for a national government such as the one today led by President Cyril Ramaphosa. He leaves us with no doubt about his racism.
His bigotry notwithstanding, the question we must answer is whether the leaders we have chosen over the years, as well as those we have today, are the embodiment of what Hani stood for. Do they lead with Hani’s mental clarity and resoluteness? Do they enable us to answer Waluś without splitting hairs?
As we remember Hani today, there is much we can still blame apartheid and colonialism for — and, indeed, we must do this for years to come. But we must also pause and ask ourselves whether the cause of justice, the quest for the return of dignity to those apartheid sought to dehumanise, is in the hands of people whose values align with what Hani stood for — or whether they’re just occupying positions and pursuing careers, even if they themselves are intermittently disrespected and dehumanised.
Ramaphosa sits in the cabinet, and elsewhere in government, with DA leaders who undertook a solo visit to the US at a time when that country has no time for him and his envoys. This trip was discourteous to the president. Ramaphosa simply woke up one day to discover they were in the US, and this is in many ways a source of our pain, thanks to the misinformation they peddled while abroad, coupled with the capricious pursuit of self-interest by Elon Musk and Starlink. What should South African representatives in Washington, DC do? Ought they to reach out to this motley crew, even though proper protocols weren’t followed?
Eventually, the DA leaders returned and started behaving as if nothing untoward had happened, smiling and exchanging pleasantries with their partners in the GNU. The president, the true commander of our armed forces, simply had to hold it together, nod and pretend all was well. The emasculation must have been galling. He must now understand he can insist on things being done properly only sometimes, and only with certain people. While he may be peeved, he must now, 32 years after Hani was killed, look the other way when he is openly disrespected. There is political disagreement, and then there is showing the president the middle finger.
If it was a one-off thing, perhaps Ramaphosa could simply swallow it and be the adult in the room. But the DA leaders refused to vote for the budget and stood firm, confident Ramaphosa would blink first — and he did. Ramaphosa signed the Expropriation Act into law, but the minister responsible for implementing it openly and without any worry about possible repercussions told him he would not do this. However, he said he would stay on in Ramaphosa’s cabinet.
When Ramaphosa signed the Basic Education Laws Amendment Act, the relevant minister defiantly stayed away, not because she was busy, but simply in protest, making a farce of the president’s ceremony. Think also of AfriForum’s stunts. Has the power in the Union Buildings all but completely drained away?
The DA, of course, must do whatever it needs to do to please its constituency. The ANC got itself into this knot.
When the ANC, after a series of disrespectful incidents, is unable to speak coherently about what reconstituting the GNU means, you know the latter-day representatives of Hani have lost that thing he represented — dignity.
By mismanaging the legacy of Hani and other struggle stalwarts, the ANC has put itself in the invidious position in which it now finds itself — where it must stomach contempt and not respond to it, because one wrong move could mean its own president could face a motion of no confidence whose outcome is anyone’s guess. Our leaders have been infantilised and flagrantly disrespected once more.
Rest, Hani — your comrades have messed up.
Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.