Noam Chomsky once said that he especially tried to sound boring so that the people who listened to his arguments would be swayed by the facts, not fancy oratory or rhetorical skills. Clearly, Professor Norman Finkelstein, of De Paul University in the United States, took the comment to heart. Professor Finkelstein debated the honourable Judge Dennis Davis at UCT’s Kramer Lecture Theatre on Tuesday the 18^th of August on the topic ‘The Holocaust Industry: Reflections on the Misuse of Anti-Semitism and the Exploitation of Jewish Suffering’. Professor Finkelstein opened the debate by arguing that before the June 1967 war, the Jewish Holocaust received scant attention from academics and the broader public. He said that it was only after the Six Days War that there was a greater intellectual and emotional investment in this tragic phenomenon. Finkelstein maintains that the Holocaust and the issue of Jewish suffering generally have been fashioned into a weapon used to silence those who are critical of Israeli foreign and domestic policies. He further argued that there is no rise of ‘new anti-Semitism’ in Western Europe; rather the scope of the criteria used to identify anti-Semitism has been broadened to such an extent that one cannot condemn Israeli action without being branded an anti-Semite. Professor Finkelstein also found fault with the unique categorisation of the Jewish Holocaust amongst other historical events. Professor Finkelstein cited several sources for claims, namely the eminent Jewish historian Raul Hilberg.

Finkelstein erred on one point- he claimed that nothing can be learnt from the Holocaust in the way that it is currently being taught (my emphasis). As surely he knows, blanket statements should be used cautiously. Whether he actually believes this assertion is doubtful, but over-generalization like this could compel some to discredit his otherwise excellent scholarship.

Judge Dennis Davis spoke second. After admitting that he disliked debates and ‘would rather have been at home watching the English Premier League’, Davis did not seem to counter Finkelstein’s argument in any clear way. He and Professor Finkelstein were mismatched. Finkelstein has written and researched extensively on the topic under discussion; whereas it seemed as if Davis’s only qualification regarding the Holocaust Industry was to receive several items of ‘hate mail’ from the Jewish community for his courageous opposition to Israel’s bombardment of Gaza in December last year. It was also not altogether clear whether Davis had substantive material differences to Finkelstein’s general thesis. But Davis did feel as if he had to distance himself from Finkelstein’s ‘radical’ stance, so he digressed and spoke of more general topics. He focussed on the tendency (assumingly amongst a minority- this is certainly not applicable to the mainstream) towards ‘making Israel the enemy’, i.e. focussing solely on its crimes while neglecting the far greater atrocities that occur in other regions of the world. He cited Darfur and Burma as such places. He repeatedly called for a degree of ‘moral equivalence’ and not ‘moral prejudice’ when discussing Israel.

Finkelstein responded to Davis’s assertion by saying that there is little opposition amongst rational people that rape and murder in Darfur is wrong- no one sane believes that such crimes are legitimate. But this is not true in the case of Israel. Many ‘enlightened’, well-educated people believe that Israeli policy in the occupied territories is just, broadly speaking, and thus morally unproblematic. And many of these same people can exert considerable influence on Israel to change its policies. Therefore, it is of even greater importance to debate these issues and draw attention to them. Finkelstein thinks that it is hypocritical for those who assert liberal, progressive values to support a state that flagrantly contravenes international law and is responsible for gross human rights abuses.

Davis also mentioned that Israel is a bastion of democracy in a sea of oppressive governments. He spoke of Israel’s free press and how we should commend Israel’s commitment to self-reflection and the maintenance of a critical stance. He cited Israel’s leading newspaper Ha’aretz as an example. Finkelstein responded by saying that we need to be careful about glorifying Israeli democracy and fairness and freedom of its press. This is because if Israeli newspapers report veraciously on the issue of the occupied territories then Israelis can have no excuse for supporting horrendous crimes there. As Finkelstein said, at least in totalitarian states the population has the excuse that they did not know. Davis replied by accusing Finkelstein of arguing speciously and using underhanded debating tactics. I was not aware that logical implication is a dirty trick. I can only assume that this was also news to Professor Finkelstein.

At one point during the questions and answers section, Judge Davis accused Finkelstein of not taking facts into account. That he made such a statement was absurd. What catapulted the debate deep into the land of Orwell was that Judge Davis was applauded. Perhaps by facts he did not mean ‘events that actually took place’, or ‘events that can be corroborated with sufficient evidence’. Perhaps by facts he meant constant appeals to ‘international responsibility’ and ‘peace’ and a ‘better world’. In that case, there is no doubt as to whose content was more fact-filled.

Appealing to the facts is exactly what Professor Finkelstein wants people to do. He asked simply that supporters of Israel read the reports emanating from mainstream organisations such as Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International, and the United Nations; and then decide for themselves if what Israel is doing in the occupied territories is just. As mentioned previously, Judge Davis has been vocal in his support for a cessation in the crimes that Israel commits in the occupied territories and has strongly denounced the recent bombardment of Gaza. (Which, quite frankly, is a footnote to the tome that is Palestinian suffering). Finkelstein has also said that it is difficult being a Jew and trying to support the state of Israel (reversing the common assertion that, being a Jew, it is difficult not to support the state of Israel) because the facts lead us to compare Israel to ‘states that should remain nameless’. I agree entirely.

For more information about HCA and how to get involved email historyandcurrentaffairs@gmail.com

From rural Nkandla to Robben Island

Jacob Gedleyihlekisa Zuma (67) was born on April 12, 1942 in Nkandla, KwaZulu-Natal, to a policeman father and a domestic worker mother. His father died when he was four, which resulted in his mother and siblings moving back to her parental home in Maphumulo, where Zuma began herding cattle instead of attending school. His inability to obtain formal education did not prevent him from teaching himself to read and write. He would often enquire as to what school-going children were learning, as well as attend evening lessons by candlelight. Living conditions in Maphumulo were anything but comfortable. His mother struggled to support their family with her small income, which compelled her to move to Durban in search of better jobs.

It was in Durban that Zuma became actively involved in politics. In 1959, at the age of 17, he joined the African National Congress (ANC). Three years later, he was recruited into the ANC’s military wing Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK). His political education, however, began much earlier. The stories of valiant Bambatha Zondi’s revolt against the British in 1906 left a lasting impression on Zuma. He was also influenced by his father’s first son Muthukabongwa Zuma, a trade unionist and ANC member who fought in the Second World War. In 1963, Zuma, then 21 years old, was arrested and imprisoned on Robben Island for ten years, charged with plotting to overthrow the apartheid government. Under the tutelage of Nelson Mandela, Govan Mbeki and Harry Gwala, in what came to be the Island’s symbolic political school, Zuma’s dedication to the struggle increased tenfold.

Climbing Through The Ranks In Exile

After his release from prison, Zuma became heavily involved in re-establishing the ANC’s banned underground structures. In 1975 he went to Swaziland and Mozambique, spending 12 years helping South African exiles to enter those countries. He was subsequently rewarded with a membership in the ANC’s powerful National Executive Committee in 1977 and, following that, was made the chief representative of the ANC in Mozambique, a position in which he served until 1987. Lusaka, Zambia, home to ANC head office, came next. He was soon appointed chief of the ANC’s feared intelligence department. Indeed, it was a strange foreshadowing of the role spooks would come to play in clearing his name of corruption two decades on.

Zuma, Mbokodo, and the case of Thami Zulu

Zuma’s pre-eminence in the intelligence structures bring up several intriguing questions about his time in exile, which, according to veteran British journalist David Beresford, “says even more about his fitness, or otherwise, to govern” than his involvement in the infamous Arms Deal. The leadership style in exile was often undemocratic, in the sense that senior leaders made decisions which lower-ranking members could not challenge. Dissent was at times punished with brutality, and Sunday Times columnist Fred Khumalo notes there were several mutinies by disgruntled MK soldiers in exile, which were fiercely crushed by the ANC’s national intelligence unit (NAT). This unit - also known as Mbokodo, which means “the grinding stone” in isiXhosa - took severe action against ANC members suspected of being apartheid spies.

A popular method of detecting apartheid spies within the ANC was to make cadres write their autobiographies repeatedly, hoping the enemy agent would eventually fail to stick to his cover story. In one of these autobiographies, written in May 1985 under the pseudonym “Pedro”, Zuma acknowledged his membership of Mbokodo. Although he does not reveal much about his own activities, it is widely known that Mbokodo served disciplinary functions in several detention camps at the time. In 1993, the ANC-appointed Motsuenyane Commission’s inquiry uncovered several gross human rights violations against detainees in these camps. The Skweyiya Commission in 1992 disclosed similar findings. In his book Mbokodo. Inside MK: Mwezi Twala- A Soldiers Story, former MK solider Twala writes an extensive first-hand account of being tortured alongside other mutineers in the Quatro camp based in Angola.

One of the most infamous of such cases is the murder of former ANC commander Muziwakhe Ngwenya, also known as Thami Zulu, in Lusaka in 1989. Mbokodo suspected he was an apartheid spy and detained him for 17 months. After his release, he suffered a mysterious death; forensic evidence showed he was poisoned. According to journalist Paul Trewhela, a former member of the SACP and editor of an MK publication Freedom Fighter, Zuma was the head of counter-intelligence at the time Zulu was murdered. He believes the detention and interrogation of a popular commander such as Zulu could not have taken place without Zuma’s permission. Nevertheless, the Motsuenyane Commission declared there was no evidence suggesting Zuma was directly or indirectly linked to any form of torture or ill-treatment in exile. Zuma never commented on this issue, although investigations of this nature concerned his department.

Dramatic rise in the post-apartheid era

Zuma’s itinerant exile years came to an end when the ANC was unbanned in 1990. He was one of the first leaders to return to South Africa and enter into negotiations with the apartheid government. He was elected chairman of the first Regional Congress of the ANC in KwaZulu-Natal and played a crucial role in ending violent clashes between the ANC and the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) in the early ‘90s. Following the first democratic election in 1994, Zuma became the MEC for Economic Affairs and Tourism in his native province. His meteoric rise through the ANC ranks continued with a promotion to the party’s national chairmanship in December 1994, and then the deputy presidency in 1997. In 1999, Zuma assumed the role of deputy president of South Africa. Four years on, in 2003, then head of the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA), Bulelani Ngcuka, implicated Zuma in the already infamous multibillion-rand arms deal. Ngcuka announced there was “a prima facie” case against Zuma for accepting bribes from one of the arms companies involved. In July 2005 Durban High Court Judge Hilary Squires sentenced Zuma’s financial advisor Schabir Shaik to 15 years imprisonment for multiple counts of corruption and fraud (ed: see our Volume 3 Issue 1 special report on the Arms Deal). It was just the beginning of what would be months and months spent in court before charges against him were dropped earlier this year.

Warning signs for the rule of law

Just a few days after Zuma’s crushing victory over Thabo Mbeki at the ANC’s 52nd National Conference in 2007, making him party president, the NPA decided to reinstate the multiple charges of corruption, fraud and money laundering. His fans were outraged, as they always believed the charges were part of a political conspiracy instigated by Mbeki to prevent their man from becoming the head of the ANC and the country. Zuma pursued the legal route to protect himself and, in September 2008, Judge Chris Nicholson ruled that the charges against him were unlawful on procedural grounds. Before Nicholson’s judgment, Zuma’s most zealous supporters threatened to start widespread violence around the country if the verdict went against him. At the same time, several ANC leaders derisively labelled the judiciary as “counter-revolutionary”. Nicholson’s verdict ultimately led to Mbeki’s ousting from power. When Judge Louis Harms of the Supreme Court of Appeal overturned the Nicholson judgment in January this year, Zuma’s legal team made special representations to the NPA to have the charges dropped. On 6 April 2009, the NPA’s acting head, Mokotedi Mpshe, dropped the charges on the grounds that the former NPA chief Bulelani Ngcuka and former Scorpions head Leonard McCarthy abused their positions of power to collude against Zuma. Recorded tapes of their conversations allegedly revealed their abuse of the process of justice. Zuma’s supporters hailed these revelations and Mpshe’s decision as evidence that the rule of law in South Africa is intact. Ironically, Mpshe’s verdict also raises serious questions about whether the rule of law was compromised in the process of dropping the charges against Zuma.

The first question surrounds the tapes themselves. According to Mpshe, the National Intelligence Agency (NIA) confirmed the tapes to be authentic. However, how did such classified state intelligence come into the possession of private individuals? Zuma’s lawyer, Michael Hulley, refused to disclose his sources. As such, Mpshe made the decision to drop the charges without even determining whether Zuma’s lawyers used legal means to obtain those tapes. Secondly, Judge Louis Harms argued that a prosecution is not wrongful merely because it is brought forward through improper practice. There is no proof that Ngcuka or McCarthy fabricated the charges, and it might have been most prudent for the NPA to have continued with the prosecution while at the same time charging Ngcuka and McCarthy for interference.

According to Dr John Akokpari, a political analyst at the University of Cape Town, a Zuma presidency may severely undermine the rule of law. He adds that Zuma’s repeated attacks on the media, Constitutional Court Judges and talk of “reforming the judiciary” are dangerous. Akokpari also believes “the NPA’s decision should not be seen in isolation from the disbandment of the Scorpions, suspension of NPA boss Vusi Pikoli, or the double standard in Schabir Shaik’s controversial medical parole”. These developments are unquestionably warning signs for the South African judiciary.

Saviour of the masses, or unfit to govern?

During his election campaign, Zuma seemed to tell different interest groups what they wanted to hear. Now that he is in power, what will happen to the poor, who, frustrated with Mbeki’s pro-business policies, came out in their numbers to elect him as president? How will he balance his promises to them with the ones made to the business community? Will he resort to undermining the same institutions he once claimed Thabo Mbeki used against him? Or will he work hard to “safeguard the independence and integrity of those institutions tasked with the defence of democracy”, as he pledged in his inauguration speech? Indeed, one wonders whether Zuma is the saviour of the masses, or unfit to govern.

***

Saif Islam is a third-year student majoring in Print Production & Media Studies

2009 has seemed like ‘Election Year’ worldwide, the South African election being the most prominent for The Cape Town Globalist, for obvious reasons. Without being parochial, we hope – we are a global magazine, after all – the choices and decisions to be made dominated our minds for a while, more so than the events unfolding around other elections. Leading up to the day, the biggest question on many South Africans’ minds (and it was tangible and felt important) must have been, “To lump for the tried and tested opposition, or to follow the spark of something new?” The results showed that, in the end, many voters did veer from their past stoic support of the ruling part, the African National Congress (ANC), choosing the Congress of the People (Cope) instead. What’s more, the results indicated a change in the political status quo as minority parties look to have become increasingly irrelevant in the grander picture. Ultimately, Cope, still only about seven months old and currently floundering as high-level members drop from their ranks, have planted a seed of change. They may prove not to be the grand wind of change to sweep the South African political landscape, but that role will undoubtedly be taken up – perhaps in a year’s time, perhaps in two – by another, well structured party with a resolute and focused leadership.

That’s just South Africa, though. What of the rest of the world? There has been the Iranian election, the Israeli election, and last year, the US election which somehow retains its significance even as time passes. Barack Obama’s move to the White House is a symbol of change and of the power voters yield.

A number of elections have passed off this year without incident, but many more have resulted in anger and violent protests. “Beyond the box” works as a theme precisely because there’s so much ‘bad stuff’ to analyse and discuss. The proactive and forward looking magazine that we are, however, we’ve tried to focus on alternatives and opportunities for electoral change as much as possible. Read more about it in “When Elections Don’t Work”, but in the words of Justice Kriegler, former chairperson of South Africa’s Independent Electoral Commission in 1994, ultimately “honesty is what the electorate demands”. Maybe we’re all idealists to expect that from every politician around the world, but sometimes a shot of High Hopes is exactly what’s needed. How else to keep the bar high for a country’s leaders? Indeed, how else to keep the man in the street from slipping into complacent acceptance of ‘the way things are’?

Enjoy the magazine and good luck for the semester ahead! The Globalist is becoming more and more entrenched in UCT culture and, having recently formed a partnership with the excellent History and Current Affairs Society, you’ll be seeing a lot more of us in the coming weeks.

Cheers,

Duncan

When Barack Obama was officially declared the winner of the 2008 US elections, citizens across the country, and across the world, took to the streets to celebrate. A casual observer in New York City might easily have confused Election Night with New Year’s Eve celebrations, as revellers sang, danced, and chanted “Yes, We Can!” late into the night. My own sister was part of an impromptu parade of people who walked past the White House and sang “Na Na Hey Hey, Kiss Him Goodbye” to outgoing President George W. Bush. Even so, the transition from one administration to the next was a smooth one, with no violent incidents or protests.

In contrast to this, political and social unrest characterised the 2008 electoral process in Kenya, the homeland of Obama’s father. A year on, many still believe Kenya’s election, in which incumbent President Mwai Kibaki was re-elected, was fraudulent. Although the opposition party, Orange Democratic Movement (ODM), led by Raila Odinga, won the parliamentary election, Kenya’s Electoral Commission announced Kibaki as the winner in the separate presidential election. ODM supporters staged protests, but Kibaki’s government chose not to review the electoral process. Intense civil unrest followed, in which lives were lost and thousands of citizens displaced. After intense negotiations, mediated by former UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan and the African Union, Kibaki and Odinga arrived at a tentative power-sharing deal that would see their parties serving alongside each other. 

 Former South African Constitutional Court Justice Johann Kriegler, who also served as the chairperson of South Africa’s Independent Electoral Commission in 1994, has been involved in election and post-election processes in Kenya, Afghanistan and East Timor, amongst other nations. In 2008, Kriegler led a commission in Kenya that recommended that the Electoral Commission of Kenya be overhauled or even replaced. Kriegler’s experience has shown that elections are not nearly enough to ensure a working democratic system. As he puts it, “No [electoral system] can ultimately ensure that the individual voter’s views are given much weight…that is to be achieved by political party structures vigilantly monitored by civil society.”

Kriegler outlines three essential components of successful elections: legitimacy, credibility, and integrity. These are requirements not only of the democratic systems, but also of the very people who implement them. Ultimately, “honesty is what the electorate demands,” says Kriegler.

What is clear is that a number of factors within a society contribute to either election acceptance or unrest. In his essay “Kenya’s Retrograde Election”, professor and former journalist Jonathan Stevenson suggests that tribalism “remains latent in many African societies, including Kenya, and threatens modern political order on the continent”. Stevenson attributes much of the social conflict in post-colonial Kenya to the continued favouritism of the predominant Kikuyu tribe (of which Kibaki is a member) and the marginalisation of smaller tribes such as the Luo, which has typically supported Odinga. Ethnic violence between members of the two groups ensued after the 2007 elections, and rioting and provocative rallies continued into 2008.

Recent events in Iran seem to mirror the unrest in Kenya. Protests erupted after President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad was re-elected in June. Media outlets across the globe broadcast amateur footage of demonstrations from Tehran, where protestors held signs demanding “Down with the Dictator,” and called for reform across the government. Mir Hossain Mousavi, the protestors’ preferred presidential candidate, carried support from the country’s youth – 60 percent of Iran’s population – who, according to reports, have been unhappy with the faltering economy and an alarming unemployment rate.

Although no concrete evidence was brought to light, and despite repeated denials by the Iranian government, many believe that ballot fraud took place, since Ahmadinejad took victory in areas heavily populated by Moussavi supporters. Riots and violence continued even after Iran’s election authority proclaimed the results of the June 12 election valid. Protestors clashed with police, and after the government prohibited all media reports from leaving Iran, human rights groups claimed that midnight attacks and arrests were being carried out to prevent the Iranian government.

Whatever the risks involved, electoral processes often act as catalysts of change, and new hope follows every new victory. But, while the introduction of democracy into many cultures has sustained them through periods of social transition, in countries like Kenya and Iran, one wonders just how successful democratic structures can be in the face of such civil turmoil. One also wonders how democracy, with its intentions to give every citizen a voice, survives in a nation whose leaders, such as high-ranking Iranian cleric, Ayatollah Ahmed Khatami, suggest that protestors be punished “firmly and mercilessly”.

Perhaps, as Stevenson wrote, “the redemptive powers of democracy may be trumpeted too hopefully.”

Nkosiyati Khumalo is in first-year, studying in the Print Production programme. He is a subcom member at The Cape Town Globalist.

Is this it, the dawning of a new era of South African politics? Or were the results of the recent elections merely a minor blip on the radar that is a democracy characterised by the one-party dominance of the African National Congress (ANC)? The simple answer is that it is probably too early to tell. But it doesn’t mean that one cannot hope that the outcomes of the elections could be the start of something new.

Arguably the most significant upshots of the elections were the formation of the Congress of the People (COPE) and the Democratic Alliance’s (DA’s) majority takeover of the Western Cape. Despite the commotion and messy accusations that followed the latter event, the fact remains that it is the first province that the ANC has lost since coming to power in 1994. In addition to this, and directly linked to COPE and the DA’s performance, the 2009 election produced some significant figures regarding the smaller opposition parties and the proportional representation (PR) system which allows them to stay alive. PR creates opportunities for the representation of many diverse constituencies, but the generally accepted assumption is that, while minority cultural and political groups will be represented, the consequent fractured political environment inevitably leads to the formation of coalition governments, and thus to weak governance. But the latest elections may have nullified this concern.

HOW THE SYSTEM WORKS

In closed party lists (such as in South Africa) the identities of the party candidates are not made public and the political parties themselves are responsible for determining the ranking of candidates on the lists. The parties each list their candidates according to that party’s determination of priorities. In a closed list, voters vote for a list, not a candidate, as is done in the United States. Each party is allocated seats in proportion to the number of votes they receive, using the ranking order on its list. There is a minimum threshold of votes required to acquire a seat in parliament, and seats are allocated in near-direct proportion to votes received.

The system has been in place in South Africa since 1994, and has enabled particular minority factions the chance to be represented in government. The opportunity for minority inclusion is both a strength and a weakness of PR electoral systems. Although the inclusion of minority voices through the electoral system is good in theory, one reality of it is that it has effectively diluted opposition to the ruling party. The question of whether the role of these parties is dwindling into insignificance, or whether it’s an issue that has simply been over- hyped, can be looked at as a numbers game.

THE BIG GUYS STEP IN

The first step is to analyse to what extent the bigger political players have begun to dwarf the smaller players. As a result of the 2004 elections, just under 90% of the 400 seats in the National Assembly were held by only three political parties: the ANC with a clear two-thirds (279 seats), the DA with 50 seats and the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) with 28 seats.

This election saw the ANC lose its two-thirds majority, as well as the entry of another party into the big league, as COPE claimed 30 seats. The DA expanded its parliamentary ranks by 17 seats and the IFP shrank to just 18. The implication of these numbers is that the key opposition to the ANC’s hegemonic status in the Assembly was increased from 78 seats held by two parties to 115 held by three. Even if, for argument’s sake, one insisted on excluding the IFP with the entirely justifiable argument regarding their degeneration, it still means that the top two opposition parties (numerically speaking) hold 97 seats between them – 19 more than in 2004.

Indeed, the IFP appears to be hanging on by a thread and fast approaching the murky depths of political oblivion. Mike Trapido, specialist criminal attorney, journalist and political commentator points out that the fact that the IFP was beaten in “their own backyard” is proof that they “cannot be considered a political player any more”.

WHEN PR SERVED THEM WELL

Following the 2004 elections, just over 10% of the National Assembly was divided among nine parties in the following order: the United Democratic Movement (UDM) with nine seats, the Independent Democrats (ID) and the New National Party (NNP) with seven each, the African Christian Democratic Party (ACDP) with six, the Freedom Front Plus (FF+) with four, United Christian Democratic Party (UCDP) and Pan Africanist Congress (PAC) with three each, and finally Azanian People’s Organisation (AZAPO) and Minority Front (MF) with two seats each. With the exception of the NNP which dropped below the benchmark required to obtain a seat, those same parties occupy only 19 seats subsequent to the elections earlier this year.

The question is, is that all going to change now? Will those 19 seats between eight parties be whittled down to even fewer in the next elections? And if, for argument’s sake, COPE and the DA are the recipients of most of those transferred votes, will the creation of a competitive working opposition finally be realised? The significant decline of the role occupied by the smaller parties in the National Assembly complements the equally significant increase of the so-called ‘key political players’ in opposition – COPE and DA.

A “SUPER OPPOSITION”?

With respect to the splitting of opposition that the PR system inevitably causes, Patricia de Lille has suggested the possibility of a “super opposition”. Its viability, however, is debateable. Professor Roger Southall (of the Political Science Department at Rhodes University) wrote that “even though there is widespread acknowledgement of the case for mergers and coalitions to overcome the fragmentation of the opposition, the individual parties remain as divided as ever by the ambitions of their leaderships and their diverse constituencies”.

Likewise, Tony Leon, former leader of opposition party DA, expressed his opinion that by refusing Helen Zille’s offer to join her provincial government in the Western Cape, COPE “took a tactically decisive step on the vexed question of opposition realignment and future strategy”. Leon wrote that “[COPE] must have reasoned that a closer union with the DA could hinder its quest to make further inroads into the ANC vote across the country. That poses a challenge for the DA, and its realignment strategy, going forward. But, equally for COPE, the go-it-alone tactic, without the patronage of power or governance, could prove hard going”.

Perhaps this is the beginning of the rise of the opposition – the kick start they needed. Or, perhaps the ANC will reclaim both its two thirds majority and the rogue province in the 2014 elections. Only time will tell.

A final thought to ponder while considering this potential rise of the opposition, is the fact that this year’s elections occurred at a time of extreme disorder for the ruling party. The in-house fighting, unacceptable to a party whose structure is described by political analyst Marian Tupy as unequivocally Marxist, resulted in a major split, yet the ANC still did well in the elections. Effectively, it appears that the DA might only ever be able to close the gap on the ANC at election time to the extent that they did in April. In light of this, Trapido asks the question that many are too fearful to ask, “What will happen to the DA if the ANC has a good run in the next elections?”

**

Sharon Green is in second-year, study­ing English Literature and Political Studies.

Here’s a wrap of the election process: On February 10 of this year the Israeli public went to the poll for the eighteenth time in its 61-year history. The original election was scheduled for 2010. Yet for the seventh out of the last eight terms of the Israeli Parliament, or Knesset, the public flocked to the voting stations prematurely. But as is tradition in the Judaic Homeland, the elections have proven to be worth as much as South Africa’s autonomy: not a great deal. The reason: Israel’s ‘aisle’ between left and right is the size of West Virginia

By merely looking at the demographics within Israel’s borders and the surrounding areas, one can see why Israel’s leadership has to begin to look towards a two-state solution before it is too late. Currently, the populations stand at 5.4 million Jews versus 5.5 million Arabs. By 2020 the Arab population would have grown to an estimated 8.5 compared to 6.4 million Jewish folk. The figures speak for themselves.

Victory in sport always signifies more than an imbalanced score-board. Clearly, the mindset behind a battle on the sports field echoes that of the battlefield (YouTube “Haka” if you don’t believe me). Yet the value attached to sport goes beyond it being a PG13 version of the battle at Waterloo, sans bloodshed, avec biltong. Something must be going on if slightly derogatory statements about Boca will leave you with a broken nose in parts of Argentina. The British wear their flags of patriotism as tattoos on the most visible of body parts (despite the fact that Leeds United is in the Second League, LUFC tattoos on necks and arms are as common in the UK as fish and chips); many a South African will vouch, against all medical knowledge, that their blood is, in fact, blue. Sport reaches deep into the personal psyche. This warfare is not about resources or power – it is metaphoric, and the spectacle of sport is the art of symbolism.

This power of symbolism has played a significant role in affecting the South African national psyche. This year we will again be reminded of the symbolism of the 1995 World Cup with Clint Eastwood’s film Invictus (and yes, the rumours are true. Matt Damon is playing Francois Pienaar. I cannot but chuckle). Against the backdrop of a history of oppression, Joel Stransky drop-kicked a nation to jubilation. Nor was the victory over England in 2007 without some ‘take that, Empire’.Many an expat, I’m sure, cheered for the national team with braaivleis, Amstels, and Olé’s, however reluctantly.

That sport and politics cannot be separated seems a truism. The issue of quotas in sport is more hotly debated in living-rooms than it is in the judicial bench. Participation in sport can have a political influence, without having anything at all to do with politics. A pity, though, that sport seems to lose its power of symbolism when not accompanied by a gold medal. I doubt that Clint Eastwood would have directed “Insecondbestus” had the ‘Boks not won, whether or not Mandela had donned a Springbok jersey after the match. You’d imagine it needn’t take victory in sport to signify layers of meaning and shape perceptions within and between countries, but it does. How many people, for example, consider that Iraq is not only a country ridden with warfare over oil, or the subject of Michael Moore films, but also a country of football-idolatry? In and of itself, a game between South Africa and Iraq holds the potential to depoliticise general perceptions of Iraq. Symbolism, yet again, but not necessarily the symbolism of the victorious so often sought after. And, so, (yes, you knew it was coming) on to South Africa hosting the 2010 Football World Cup. A developing country, and the first in Africa, holding the biggest international sports event is a grand opportunity for symbolism to show its dentures for more reasons than one.

Undoubtedly, the tournament is important for South Africa from an economic perspective, with jobs and entrepreneurial opportunities unfolding like a squad of Babushka-dolls painted in the colours of the national flag. Art will flourish – it won’t be long before you will be able to buy Ronaldo’s bust weaved in wire on the streets – and, of course, regardless of what the pundits predict the score line to be, Bafana Bafana’s performances will be close to the country’s heart. A Bafana victory is as likely as is the possibility of Jacob Zuma mediating a resolution to the Israeli-Palestine conflict, leading, finally, to a colonisation of the rest of the world (out with tea and scones, in with Ouma rusks and Nescafe!). Nevertheless, the symbolism the tournament holds needn’t be lost if the cup leaves the country again after the final whistle has blown. Above all else is the importance of a tournament that runs smoothly, with the love of soccer permeating South African society performing at its Vuvuzelean best. This means no matches in the dark, and no accusations of Helen Zille’s non-platonic relationship with Fifa President Sepp Blatter. Perhaps some precautionary measures could be taken, too. I suggest signs be pegged throughout Green Point reading, ‘Attention Tourists: Do Not Film The Pavement At 2AM With Your Sony Handycam.’ If soccer takes the front seat and fans can enjoy cheering, waving, partying, swearing at referees, laughing and crying with their teams, the tournament will be a historical symbol of success. The Last Post bugle call pre-emptively blown by pessimists might be silenced yet. Sound the Vuvuzelas!

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Louis Pienaar is a second-year student majoring in English Literature, Philosophy and History

Despite Chavez’s apparent star status at home, South America’s neighbours to the North don’t have much love for him, and they might have good reason for that. From the moment he strutted onto the international scene, Chavez has been shouting anti-Americanisms to whomever will listen. His passionate displays have in turn led to anti-Chavez-isms, including a call for his assassination on American national television. Considering the man’s history, however, it’s unlikely that this concerned him very much.

Chavez has survived more than just idle threats to kill him: in 1992, he led a military coup to take the presidency by force. He failed, but after serving some time for his transgression, he cruised to victory on a socialist ticket in the 1998 general election. Three years later, he was kidnapped in a United States-backed military plot to kill him and only regained power because young officers refused to follow orders and massive street demonstrations called for his return. Since then, Chavez has been riding high on approval ratings in the region of 71 percent. Indeed, a referendum earlier this year gave him the constitutional go-ahead to seek re-election as many times as he desires. It puts him one step closer to what seems to be his dream of being president for life.

The prospect of the leftist South America for which Chavez pushes is a cause for anxiety for every American administration. Before the recession and the election of Barack Obama as the new American president, Washington seemed to be creating contingency plans for a potential cut-off of Venezuelan oil. In the midst of the global slowdown, however, Obama seems to have no such intentions, especially if oil once again becomes a hot commodity.

As Chavez has repeatedly said, oil “is a geopolitical weapon” and in the short-term, Venezuela might continue with its policy of selling oil at very low prices to win allies and forge an anti-American front. However, with the plummeting oil price, petroleum revenues are down and Venezuela might have to change some of its policies to weather the economic storm. Chavez will have to start courting favour with Western oil companies, whose oil fields he nationalised back in 2007. The situation he risks if he doesn’t is what Dr Manoel Bittencourt, University of Cape Town lecturer and Brazilian economist, calls a “natural resources curse”: having the resources is a blessing, but only when you can use them. With government spending on the increase, primarily to finance Chavez’s socialist reform programmes, and with very limited investment in infrastructure, Venezuela will soon find itself in trouble.

Venezuela has a guaranteed supply of 78 years of crude oil but when that oil runs out, the country will not have any other industry to compensate for the loss in revenues. Unlike South American powerhouse Brazil, Venezuela has not attempted to diversify its economic activities, and has rejected the teaching of modern economics. Venezuelans have placed too much stock in their oil reserves. In times such as these, it pays to have a diversified portfolio: a lesson learnt by many in recent years but one especially relevant to those with questionable political and economic agendas. With an exponential rate of inflation and a very near complete economic breakdown, brought on by wildly irresponsible government spending and the nationalisation of all the major energy services, Chavez moves his country closer to political and economic ruin with each misstep.

This is a path we’ve seen many, including Zimbabwe’s Robert Mugabe, take. As in Zimbabwe, a country once renowned for its richness in natural resources, Venezuela is headed into a macro-economic black hole if its government continues marching to the populist drum. Bittencourt notes that towards the end of the ’90s, the Zimbabwean government urged the central bank to print more money in order to fund the regime’s promises to the poor and ‘buy votes’ to maintain power. With excess money floating around in the economy, inflation turned into hyperinflation and hyperinflation became economic history as the Zimbabwean dollar continued to depreciate and a once prosperous country all but imploded. Venezuela runs the same risk: runaway inflation, fuelled by a president’s need to remain popular and in power, together with ever-increasing government spending.

Despite a distinct lack of growth-friendly infrastructure and institutions to fall back on, Chavez, for his part, doesn’t seem too concerned: he’s relying on his friends, China and Russia, to get him out of a possible fiscal mess. He forgets, however, that they too are headed for a few rough years. A refinery and oil-export deal with China was expected to help Venezuela out of its economic struggles with cheap oil prices. The weapons and energy deal with Russia is designed to combat the problem of low oil prices but also to ‘protect’ Venezuela from any US plans to ‘destabilise’ the Chavez government. Like Mugabe, Chavez seems obsessed with the possibility of the imperialists coming in to take his country and, like Mugabe, no one besides the leader himself and his supporters is really sure exactly how that’s going to happen. Nevertheless, in a particularly vitriolic and oft-recounted denunciation of the ‘imperialists’, Chavez in 2006 addressed the United Nations the day after former US president George W. Bush had spoken in the General Assembly, announcing that the room reeked of sulphur. It was evidence, he said, that “the devil” had been there.

It’s clear that Chavez spends a lot of time shouting, especially with the cameras rolling, but he’s yet to prove he really has anything worth making so much noise about. If anything, it will be interesting to see if he ever begins to quiet down a bit and focus on problems a lot bigger than his supposed imperialist arch enemy to the North. His first concern might be, what to do when the oil runs out?

Bontle Senne is in her final year, studying Philosophy and economics

KROG IS PERHAPS BEST known for her role as media co-ordinator during South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) in 1995. Most notably in her career as a journalist, she wrote of her intimate experiences during this volatile period in her non-fiction book [Country of My Skull]. Subsequently produced as a feature film, the book chronicles Krog’s personal struggles and the emotions experienced in the country during the Commission. Fourteen years on from the TRC, Krog has become a highly-regarded commentator on South African politics and cultural affairs. MARCHÉ ARENDS quizzes her on some of the country’s most recent political developments, and explores the writer’s sense of identity.

Your writing is quite universal. With reference to the fact that you have spent extensive periods of time overseas, how do you view yourself and South Africa?

The basis, tone, theme, accent, background of all my work is deeply South African, especially Afrikaner. I write nothing in English, but write in Afrikaans and then translate. This means that my work, even in English, retains an Afrikaans structure.

How have the political changes in South Africa shaped your identity as a South African?

The political past and the changes form the crux of my work. I have written about what is wrong and I do write now about how identities are shifting, how we have become more of each other, how strange we are and yet how familiar, how we care and don’t care.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu, when discussing President Jacob Zuma, remarked if he were in another country, he would be embarrassed to acknowledge that Mr Zuma was his president. Given your connection with the Archbishop during the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, do you share any of his sentiments and concerns?

I have said before: I don’t think Mr Zuma is a corrupt man. I think he got caught up in circumstances which he seriously misread and misjudged. Yet I would have hoped that Mr Zuma himself would have refused to taint the position of president until his name had been fully cleared.

In light of your ability to assess South Africa’s political development with a more critical eye, do you think that the ANC has shifted its focus during the 15 years that it has been in government?

Yes, the ANC did. It drastically shifted its focus from the Mandela era to the Mbeki era with its vocabulary of exclusion and race. Now it has quite successfully distanced itself from the Mbeki era and even promises a new kind of ANC that will deliver to the poor.

The South African elections have come and gone. Looking back, do you think that the manifestos promoted by both the current ruling dispensation and opposition parties addressed the issues of people on the ground, many of whom participated in the Truth and Reconciliation Commission?

No, I don’t think the parties dealt with sullen, slow, angry civil servants and workers who take their bad moods out on poor people. I didn’t see anybody trying to inspire people to care for those in front of them – terms like self-interest, clients, stakeholders, taxpayers, etc. were used.

Are you optimistic about the future of South Africa?

Yes, always – but it makes me [feel] old.

With several published poetry anthologies, translations, plays and three full-length books to her name, Krog has firmly established herself in the literary world. Her latest publication, There was this Goat, is a collaboration with Nosisi Mpolweni and Kopano Ratele. The book investigates the seemingly incoherent TRC testimony of Mrs Notrose Konile, mother of one of the ‘Gugulethu Seven’, Zabonke Konile. At a deeper level the book explores the cultural and linguistic barriers which the diverse people of South Africa are yet to overcome.

MARCHÉ ARENDS is a first-year student majoring in Media and Writing. She is a subcom member at THE CAPE TOWN GLOBALIST.