The Arrogance of Power. Xolela MangcuЧитать онлайн книгу.
as South African president for his second and final term. He appointed Ramaphosa as deputy president.
I
THE PROMISE
Seeking common national values
Mail & Guardian, 5 June 1998
South Africa’s transformation project has been framed almost exclusively in political and economic terms. The introduction of a constitutional democracy has been followed by an even greater focus on economic growth. While all of this is understandable and desirable, relatively little attention has been given to our public values. And yet the success of our democracy will probably be determined by the extent to which our political, administrative and policy institutions are informed by the values, aspirations and motivations of ordinary South Africans. This in itself requires that our leaders undertake the difficult task of distilling what might be termed common-denominator values among the many world views that characterise South African life. If Jawaharlal Nehru could frame a sense of public values for India, Julius Nyerere for Tanzania, or James Madison and Thomas Jefferson for the United States, then surely our national leaders should be able to do the same for South Africa.
In many ways, Deputy President Thabo Mbeki has started on that path by calling for a national consensus, which he describes as the ‘African Renaissance’. The success of the African Renaissance as a national ethos will, in turn, depend on the extent to which it matches the common aspirations of South Africans across political, economic and cultural divides. Equally important will be the means that are adopted to achieve such a national consensus – that is, the end values must be consistent with the democratic means that most South Africans cherish. How can this balance be achieved in practical terms? I suggest four policy steps.
First, we must create a deliberative process of public purpose-building that is pluralistic and even clamorous, reflecting the diversity of our society. This must be something that appeals to the idealism of most people, and must be conducted on a scale that parallels what other countries have achieved. An example that comes to mind is the framing of the United States constitution, and the adoption of its Declaration of Independence. The National Endowment for the Humanities – a federal government agency – recently sponsored a National Conversation on American Pluralism and Identity aimed at engaging the American public on the paradox of pursuing a shared American identity in the midst of pluralist diversity.
Even those who ascribe America’s success to its purposelessness, and even to the exploitation and exclusion of racial minorities, now argue for a common purpose because of changed conditions. As the American political theorist Benjamin Barber has put it in his book A Passion for Democracy: American Essays (2000): ‘The new pressures of ecology, transnationalism, and resource scarcity in combination with the apparent bankruptcy of privatism, materialism, and economic individualism – [as well as] the pathologies and the ambivalent promises of our modernity – create conditions more inviting to the generation of public purposes and a public spirit than any America has ever known.’
Several books have also come out to celebrate India’s enduring democracy 50 years after independence – a feat which they attribute to Nehru’s concept of unity in diversity. India continues to withstand the fundamentalist threat, and will most likely withstand its current woes, because of its democratic tradition. We have also seen the rather belated, if grudging, recognition of the nation-building legacy of Nyerere in Tanzania. In December 1996, even the conservative Wall Street Journal observed that: ‘Mr Nyerere may have been a poor economist, but he was a skilled nation-builder. He fused Tanzania’s 120 tribes into a cohesive state, preventing tribal conflicts plaguing so much of Africa.’
South Africa can draw some lessons from these examples without committing the mistakes that those countries made in their economic policies. We can at least agree that successful democracies are those that draw from their pluralist diversity in creating broadly shared understandings. We have shown that we can do this by drafting and adopting what is arguably the best constitution in the world. But we need to go beyond the formalism and rights orientation of the constitutional process to build a positive cultural leitmotif that also pays attention to our collective responsibilities in the new society.
Second, a project of purpose-building must be conducted by public intellectuals who can be both supportive and critical of the national government. Public intellectuals are particularly suited to this role because they combine moral commitment to progressive ends with a commitment to objective analyses and procedures. Their role would be to build a moral consensus that is preceded by an open airing of different viewpoints. But who and where are the public intellectuals? Black intellectuals have particular perspectives that can inform a national conversation on the public purpose. They represent values and world experiences that have historically been locked out of the knowledge–ideas complex in South Africa. It is indeed worrisome that the subject of black intellectual empowerment has not received the same level of national attention and visibility as political and economic empowerment. I submit that unless the ideas of black people are part of this knowledge–ideas complex, our freedom will be incomplete. Ideas do matter, and those who control ideas ultimately shape the policies that govern our lives.
One idea that is part of our living experience as black people, and underlies the process of reconciliation, is that of Ubuntu (African humanism). Ubuntu is also eminently compatible with the idea of self-reliant and people-centred development. It is such congruence between public values and public policies that will ultimately provide the basis for effective governance. It has, of course, been argued that Ubuntu is a myth which papers over the atrocities that blacks have perpetrated on each other. But, just as the existence of slavery and racist segregation does not make democracy any less desirable in the West, Ubuntu remains a ‘necessary myth’.
Third, to prevent ossification of the deliberative process, the debate must also be conducted through multiple institutions: the media, policy institutes, and community forums. Members of the public must be encouraged to air their views in newspapers and on radio and television call-in shows. I can anticipate fears that this would immediately cede the process to the control of a generally hostile media. Perhaps it is time to explore more creative ways for inclusive public deliberation. One possibility is private funding of new policy institutes – by the new black millionaires. This would not be just a matter of social responsibility, but a pragmatic investment in the generation of new ideas.
Fourth, it is imperative that we develop the next generation of South African intellectuals. To be a public intellectual should be just as prestigious among young people as being a doctor or a lawyer. Perhaps a project of public purpose-building could be the beginning of such intellectual participation by young people in the formulation of their country’s new identity. Then they could say to future generations that they were there – at the country’s founding!
An alternative to snob democracy
Mail & Guardian, 30 April 1999
The political transformation of the past ten years will no doubt go down in history as one of the most important events of the millennium – on par with the French, American, Indian, Chinese, and Russian revolutions. Some of our leading scholars have taken to talking about the ‘maturing’ and ‘consolidation’ of our democracy, and rightly so. But self-congratulation has to be accompanied by a willingness to talk frankly about our shortcomings as well.
There is a foundational flaw in our democracy that goes back to the early days of the transition, but has become a defining characteristic of our political culture. While the political transition itself was the result of mass mobilisation in the townships and villages of this country, the negotiations process was, at times, a secretive affair whose outcome hinged on the bargaining skills of the leaders of the various political parties, mainly the ANC and the National Party (NP).
Having delegated power upwards during the negotiations, we then invested in a number of political and institutional support systems consistent with the overall emphasis on elite decision-making. The centralisation of authority in national leadership; the dominant role of political parties as containers of debate, discontent and disagreement; the party list system;