The trouble with never confronting the ghosts of our past

South Africa, after 25 years of democracy, continues the struggle between the needs of the people and those that hold power, exacerbated by the fact that power is often wielded to stifle the voice of the people. This past week, FW de Klerk sat down with eNCA’s Aldrin Sampear to reflect on where we are as a country and to air his views on a number of issues.

Beyond the sound bites and particularly the content of this interview, South Africans must begin to ask: Who is telling our story? Not simply who the voices are of our collective narrative, but are we honouring the legacy of our full history — are we interrogating the assumptions and normative narrative that is often shaped by those who have power and access to power?

The upcoming election is touted by some as being one of the most contentious since the dawn of South African democracy. However, South Africa wrestles with its identity, particularly during this election cycle, while our party-political machinery seeks to feed into that polarisation instead of looking at mechanisms to bridge divides and confront our societal challenges.

Earlier this week I reflected on the cognitive dissonance that is on parade in our society, particular where former despots of the apartheid regime talk about South Africa “falling into a new race classification”, lamenting the “new form of discrimination”. It is not surprising, however, that the last king of apartheid would consider this to be an appropriate engagement on issues confronting South Africa — he did this on an international platform in 2012.

South Africa needs to undergo a reckoning, and one that is able to account appropriately for not just what has gone wrong, but also who has been involved in the systematic degradation and circumvention of our democracy over the past 25 years.

However, this reckoning cannot simply be focused and housed in a series of State Capture-related commissions that are providing insight into South Africa’s shadow structure. The views aired by the last king of apartheid, who served as deputy president of the country in a government of national unity, are not unique, but rather a reflection of rising polarisation, the politics of fear and of those that pretend they are not accountable. It may seem superfluous to engage with the views of this former despot; however, these views are not isolated, but rather form part of a particular false narrative that distracts us from meaningfully confronting the structural challenges of our society.

The polarisation of our society is an intentional outcome of the shadow state that grew in extent, size and reach, particularly over the past lost decade. It is not accidental that fear, polarisation and divisive rhetoric is part of our body politic. The design and deployment of power in South Africa, particularly over the past decade (and during the years of the apartheid regime), has always been about exerting power in order to drive a particular outcome. Collective denial and amnesia was a birthright of the apartheid regime, and so it is not surprising to hear things such as “my hands are clean and my conscience is clear”.

However, our constitutional democracy must be held to a higher account. Our democracy — and it is our democracy — must be tested against the intentions of the Constitution, epitomised by the extensive work in its drafting, the work of the constitutional assembly as well as the immense sacrifice made by so many South Africans who fought selflessly for our democracy.

The narrative from those who served the apartheid regime should not be conflated with the narrative of democratic South Africa or about the path that we need to embark on in order to confront the challenges of inequality, poverty and unemployment, but also South Africa’s fragile and fractured social compact.

The trouble with never confronting the ghosts of our past is that it comes back to remind you about another version of reality South Africans are told “there is no evidence whatsoever that loans were used only for whites. Universities were being built. Infrastructure was being installed from which everybody benefited. I’m not justifying apartheid in any way whatsoever, but what I’m saying is that it’s a fallacy to say that loans were given just for the benefit of white people. Loans were given to a country for the country’s goals”.

This somehow forgets that the resources of South Africa, harnessed through exploitation and loans, was used to oppress the majority of South Africans and furthermore was used to kill and torture.

The broader lesson for South Africans when hearing former leaders (as well as former apartheid regime operatives), whether on national platforms, social media or even through lengthy missives, is that we need to manage our expectations about how much truth-telling and accounting will take place.

Beyond this past lost decade, South Africa has since 2018 embarked on a cathartic process, although that process has not collected its pound of flesh yet, and many of those in the shadow state structure remain in positions of authority and power.

President Matamela Cyril Ramaphosa finds himself in an unenviable position given that he can only drive the cathartic process of renewal and accountability for as long as he actually holds on to political power.

The slight challenge is that we have a pending election outcome that will determine how strong or weak his hand is, as well as how strong or weak the hands are of both the opposition party political structures as well as the internal African National Congress factions.

The journey that South Africa needs to embark on goes far beyond the days leading up to 8 May and the polling results. Instead, it must begin to wrestle with the country that we are committing to building. That country should be geared for robust engagement on issues, demanding accountability, fostering unity, calling out polarisation and challenging divisions. DM