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IN HIS book, Dialectical Materialism, Alexandra Spirkin conveys a profound message: "An important element of self-consciousness is awareness of the demands of society upon oneself … one's responsibility to the community, the class, the nation, country and, finally, to mankind as a whole."
Applied to political organisations, this concept of self-consciousness implies that, before taking decisions or formulating and articulating organisational positions, political leaders must factor in the demands of society.
Until recently, leaders of the African National Congress (ANC) had, since 1994, demonstrated cognisance of the importance of harmonising their words and deeds with the aspirations of our nation.
While impatient members of the organisation may have expected the ANC, upon capturing state power, to immediately and solely address the concerns of black people, Nelson Mandela grasped the strategic importance of kissing white babies, of having dinner with the wife of a white prosecutor who condemned him to Robben Island, and also saw merit in paying a visit to the secessionist "Republic" of Orania.
Although radical ANC leaders like Harry Gwala preferred hostile relations with such parties as the Inkatha Freedom Party and the New National Party, Mandela invited Mangosotho Buthelezi and FW de Klerk into his government of national unity.
He did all this because uTata understood that the ANC could not afford to swim against the tide of national reconciliation; South Africans wanted peace, not war. Thus, Mandela's reconciliatory actions won the ANC greater legitimacy, good moral standing and wider support in our society.
More importantly, Mandela was prepared to confront ANC members who made pronouncements against the demands of society.
When former ANC Youth League (ANCYL) president Peter Mokaba continued to sing, "Kill the Boer, kill the farmer", Mandela reminded young Peter that the ANC was older than him and instructed him to stop it. Steeped in true ANC traditions, Mokaba did not insult Mandela, as the so-called youth leaders do to elders today.
When Thabo Mbeki took over the reigns of the ANC in 1997 and state presidency in 1999, he, too, was conscious of the responsibility that his organisation had to "the nation, the country and, finally, to mankind as a whole", as Spirkin would aptly put it.
While the Congress of South African Trade Unions, the South African Communist Party and some in the ANC vociferously criticised him for presiding over what they call the "1996 class project", Mbeki did not take his eyes off Growth, Employment and Redistribution, an economic policy he fervently believed was good for South Africa.
Today we collectively pride ourselves for independence from international financial sharks such as the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank.
Accused of centralising power and introducing a technocratic culture, Mbeki nonetheless pressed ahead with what he thought South Africa needed: a developmental state with the necessary capacity to deliver services to the people. While the service delivery protests that we have witnessed may suggest that he did not entirely succeed, that he dared to act against his critics in the alliance is yet another example of an ANC leader conscious of the link between his party and public interests.
Being the philosopher king that he has always been, Mbeki further gave the ANC an intellectual character.
Our country's intelligentsia could not wait for Friday to read a sometimes provocative yet stimulating ANC Today, a publication whose literary quality seems to have been booted out together with Mbeki.
Mbeki sparked numerous debates and shaped discourses. Suddenly, our academics rediscovered the African Renaissance. Today there are people who call themselves New Partnership for Africa's Development specialists, thanks to Mbeki's elasticity of mind.
His "I am an African" speech rekindled a sense of pride among millions of blacks all over the world.
To reflect on the good things done by Mbeki for our nation, our country and to mankind as a whole without pointing out his mistakes would be dishonesty of the highest order.
His stance on HIV and Aids is perhaps the most glaring disservice he did to our people. When he accused some ANC leaders of plotting to dethrone him, some of us interpreted it as the lowest point to which a paranoid leader could descend.
Yet Mbeki's statesmanship did not wane.
The South African electorate showed their confidence in his leadership when the ANC was returned to power in 2004 by an even bigger margin. Indeed, we all wait with bated breath to see if the ANC under Jacob Zuma will surpass Mbeki's electoral record.
That Mbeki was a weak state president on his way out after Polokwane is a fact even a child could recognise.
Thus, South Africans were already preparing themselves for a Zuma presidency with all its uncertainties.
Emboldened by Judge Chris Nicholson's judgment, Mbeki's enemies rushed for their sticks to repeatedly crush the "head of a dead snake", to borrow Zuma's revealing metaphor.
And thus a state president, with only seven months left in office, was humiliatingly removed.
After stabbing Julius Ceasar to death in William Shakespeare's famous play, Brutus shouted to his comrades in murder, saying:
And let us bathe our hands in Ceasar's blood
Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords;
Then walk we forth, even to the market place,
And waving our red weapons o'er our heads,
Let's all cry, 'Peace, freedom, and liberty!'
It is precisely this kind of cold-blooded triumphalism that turned the people of Rome against Brutus and his fellow conspirators. The hearts of human beings generally side with the victim.
Zuma also benefited from the fragility of the human heart after Mbeki sacked him.
To most South Africans, firing Mbeki only seven months before his last day in office may have appeared more like Brutus calling his comrades in murder to "bathe their hands" in Mbeki's blood.
It may also have sounded like Brutus screaming: "Let us sink our hands in his blood up to the elbow, and walk faster to the Union Buildings!"
To some South Africans, kicking Mbeki out of the Union Buildings less than a year before he finished his last term may further have conjured up images of a group of killers shouting: "Let us wave our red weapons over our heads and all cry peace, freedom and liberty!"
The days following Mbeki's removal were dramatic.
The most capable actors in this free political drama seemed to have been ANC leaders; giving the public divergent reasons as to why Mbeki was toppled. ANC secretary-general Gwede Mantashe cited the National Prosecuting Authority and Cabinet's decisions to appeal against Nicholson's judgment as among the pressing reasons behind the decision.
ANC treasurer-general Mathews Phosa couldn't hide his anger: "We have lost confidence in Mbeki."
Whether one agrees with the decision or not, to most South Africans the ANC now appears more like an organisation of angry members and bitter leaders; angry against their own comrades.
It is for this reason that some of us now suspect that African National Congress Youth League leader Julius Malema was "prepared to take up arms and kill" his own comrades.
Had he indeed done this, it could have been a war of comrades against comrades.
In the meantime, ordinary South Africans ask: What does all this have to do with us?
While there are those who might choose to dismiss this as a figment of the imagination of some, the damage done by the ANC political drama to the integrity of the organisation, and to politics in general, can only be ignored by those who see absolutely no connection between ethics, morality and politics.
A soul-searching question for the ANC seems urgent: What is the glue that holds the organisation together today?
An even more troubling one screams for attention: What is the glue that will hold the ANC together 20 years from now, when Malema and those who serve under him take over the leadership of the ANC, and that of our country?
If the ANC were to see value in these critical questions, its leadership would first need to remember what Spirkin said: "An important element of self-consciousness is awareness of the demands of society upon oneself … one's responsibility to the community, the class, the nation, the country and, finally, to mankind as a whole."
Prince Mashele is head of the Crime, Justice and Politics Programme at the Institute for Security Studies |
