THE ANC: Will madam ever vote for Eve?=20
Justin Pearce=20
Eve Jammy usually does her canvassing by phone. But on =20 a rare occasion when she does canvas house to house, =20 it’s easy to see why she prefers the phone. =20
Jammy is a local election candidate for Ward 11 in =20 Johannesburg’s posh northern suburbs, an area where =20 it’s usually impossible to get any further than the =20 intercom beside the security gate — especially if you =20 are standing for the ANC.=20
There are no people about on the street in Dunkeld, and =20 the cars are all locked away in their garages as we =20 approach the first house, a baronial mansion behind a =20 security gate wide enough to admit a tank. Pressing the =20 buzzer gets no response, and Jammy is about to give up =20 when a vast red BMW approaches, and pauses as the gate =20 slides open. Jammy introduces herself to the driver as =20 the ANC candidate — the driver sighs despairingly and =20 says the crime rate has banished any thoughts of voting =20 for the ANC.=20
Such an exchange is typical of Dunkeld, except that in =20 this case the driver is not a white householder but a =20 black employee.=20
“I voted for the ANC last time. But I have lost hope.”=20
Jammy assures the driver that his concerns are her =20 concerns and the ANC’s concerns — and he concedes that =20 he might give the party one last chance.=20
Across the road, Jammy presses another bell, the =20 intercom crackles into action, and she introduces =20 herself as a candidate.=20
“I’ve registered and you’ve got my vote,” snaps a =20
“I am the ANC candidate,” Jammy says. “You are voting =20 for the ANC?”=20
“No, try somewhere else.”=20
Further along the road, a figure can be seen moving =20 behind the net curtains when Jammy presses the bell, =20 but it takes a few more rings before anyone answers the =20 intercom. Jammy says she’s a candidate — for the first =20 time, a gate opens for her, and a burly man comes out =20 to meet us. Jammy then reveals which party she is from =20 — this provokes a reaction of: “There is no way I am =20 voting for the ANC — I don’t know how anyone in the =20 northern suburbs can vote for the ANC — what have they =20 ever done for us here? I don’t know how someone like =20 you can stand for the ANC.” =20
The tirade continues on the subject of crime, the =20 municipal workers’ strike, and this resident’s liberal =20 credentials (“I think Mandela is a great man”), before =20 signing off with “I would sooner vote for the PAC than =20 the ANC.”=20
Jammy reminds him of the hard line which the government =20 took on the nurses’ strike, and advances the argument =20 which is her chief motivation for standing for =20 election: that only by working with the government, can =20 you help them to get things right.=20
“You are very brave to be standing for the ANC in this =20 area,” the man replies. “I admire your courage. Good =20 luck to you.”=20
Over in Parktown North, where the houses are smaller =20 and the security arrangements less intimidating, the =20 response is less hostile. A man with a foreign accent =20 and a relatively modest BMW says he is happy with the =20 way the government is working and will probably support =20 the ANC in the poll. Next door a woman says she voted =20 ANC last year and will do the same this year — a man =20 says he might vote ANC as long as they stop the Zoo =20 Lake shopping mall, which Jammy assures him they will.=20
Some domestic workers sitting outside in the street are =20 delighted to meet this ANC Eve who looks more like =20 Madam, and Jammy pauses a moment to chat. It’s time =20 well spent: with domestic employees making up 30 =20 percent of the ward’s registered voters, their vote =20 could have more of an impact than their employers dare =20
THE NATS: Together against the ANC=20
Justin Pearce=20
Seven candidates are standing for Pretoria’s Ward 23 — =20 “‘n stormloop na die (a stampede to the) Gravy Train” =20 as National Party candidate Johan Durand describes it. =20 The number of candidates is a theme that comes up again =20 and again as he does the rounds in his ward, which =20 includes the coloured suburb of Eersterus and the =20 working-class white area East Lynne.=20
Durand, classified coloured in the old South Africa, =20 faces the challenge of wooing white voters who, in the =20 last municipal election, chose a Conservative Party =20 councillor for their ward. He feels that of the ANC’s =20 six opponents, only the NP can unite the opposition =20 across racial lines and keep the monster at bay.=20
First stop is a rather sad suburban video store, almost =20 devoid of customers at this time of day, owned by a =20 couple who have plenty of time to talk.=20
“I’m not going to vote — it’s a farce,” insists =20 mevrou. =20
Durand gets down to battle with her apathy — the =20 accusation that the ANC is too “soetjies-soetjies =20 (softly-softly)” on criminals features large in his =20 argument. =20
The woman chimes in again: “The problem is that white =20 people don’t stand together. If we’d stood together in =20 the last election we might have had a chance.”=20
She’s virtually echoing Durand’s own views, except that =20 he casts the need for solidarity wider: “I’m a coloured =20 — a member of a small, vulnerable minority group who =20 stood together against hoardes of black voters,” he =20 says, imploring the couple to join him in the quest to =20 fight off the ANC. =20
While the people of East Lynne may have a reputation as =20 right-wingers, in the cold light of a democratic South =20 Africa they are more concerned about getting the =20 pavements tarred and closing the local bottle store =20 than they are about establishing a volkstaat. =20
And it’s on this level that Durand is able to win them =20 over. He proudly points out how, once he became a =20 member of the Transitional Metropolitan Council, he =20 lost no time in building a pavement outside a =20 children’s home, something which his Freedom Front =20 predecessor had not started on after a year of =20
Still, Durand knows how to touch boere heartstrings in =20 all the right places. “In your veins flows the blood of =20 the Voortrekkers who crossed the Drakensberg,” he =20 reminds a youth working in a pet shop as an injunction =20 to stand firm against the ANC by casting his vote. “I =20 am a Christian — you are a Christian,” is a reminder =20 of solidarity which he can throw into almost any =20
When the pet shop boy cynically remarks that his skin =20 is too light for his vote to count, Durand ripostes: =20 “I’m also a minority. I didn’t get drunk and go lie on =20 a rubbish tip. I’m standing together with the orderly =20 people, the Christian people.”=20
These calls to solidarity seem to tap into a growing =20 mood in the community. Durand says he has not =20 experienced any direct racism while campaigning, and it =20 seems that the East Lynne residents who once voted =20 Conservative are at least trying hard to change.=20
“There was one time when if a coloured person had moved =20 in next door, I would have moved out,” says the woman =20 in the video shop. “Now there are coloureds living in =20 the area and they are some of my best friends.”=20
In the hair salon, a woman catches herself addressing =20 Durand as “jy” rather than “u” and apologises self-=20 consciously. But if the people have learnt a few =20 lessons about racism, the dogs have yet to catch up — =20 Durand is wary of entering a suburban garden unless the =20 householder is there to escort him to the front door.=20
THE DP: Soweto’s tree-planting messiah=20
Justin Pearce=20
Daniel Maluleke’s political turf is staked out with =20 trees. He began planting them along the dusty streets =20 of Orlando East three years ago, long before he joined =20 the Democratic Party.=20
Now Maluleke is the DP candidate for Orlando East in =20 the forthcoming local elections, and the trees which he =20 paid for from his own pocket form the mainstay of his =20 popularity. He is known not as the DP candidate, but as =20 the man who planted the trees. As he walks round the =20 streets near his home to canvass the electorate, there =20 is no evidence of the hostility which has traditionally =20 greeted “white” parties like the DP in the townships. =20 Reactions range from apathy to enthusiastic support.=20
“I will support Mr Maluleke because of the visible =20 things he has done,” says a middle-aged woman who lives =20 in a backyard shack. “After the elections I would like =20 to see conditions improve further, to own a home, and =20 to get rid of crime.”=20
The DP means little to such people. They’re voting for =20 the man, and it seems that a single-minded do-gooder =20 like Maluleke would be better off in an electoral =20 system that was not based on party politics. Although =20 he is a DP regional council member and represents the =20 party on the Greater Johannesburg Transitional =20 Metropolitan Council, he got into the party almost by =20 accident. He entered politics only last year as a =20 founder member of the African Christian Democratic =20 Party, but left because that party was becoming “too =20
He occupied himself with community work until the DP =20 invited him — some might say opportunisitically — to =20 come on board. =20
While he may not have found his political home among =20 Christian fundamentalists, Maluleke maintains the air =20 of a Protestant preacher. He presents himself as a man =20 of the people who is also a step above the people — a =20 benevolent partriarch who advocates orderly development =20 rather than wild-eyed populism. When squatters moved on =20 to a piece of public land, he vehemently opposed their =20 presence, arguing that Sowetans need to preserve what =20 public land they have.=20
He outlines his masterplan for Soweto, which begins =20 with upgrading the backyard shacks into “bachelor =20 flats”, and ends with cleaning up the Klip River to =20 make it a suitable venue for Olympic watersports =20
Walking round Maluleke’s immediate neighbourhood, it =20 seems as if everyone knows him, trusts him, and will =20 vote for him — at least among the elderly and the =20 unemployed who are at home on this weekday morning.=20
A grandmother hurries up to Maluleke and hands him an =20 envelope of money and an electricity bill, asking him =20 to pay it for her at the local administrative office.=20
“As a councillor in Soweto, you are a social worker, a =20 marriage counsellor and everything,” Maluleke explains. =20 “People see you as a messiah.”=20
He heads on to the office to pay the bill. Here he =20 doesn’t receive the recognition that he gets in his =20 tree-lined stamping ground, but nor is he met with =20 resentment. Most of the people sitting listlessly =20 outside the office have experienced a profound =20 disillusionment with politics since the election of the =20 Government of National Unity.=20
“They don’t keep their promises,” complains an elderly =20 woman. “Those jobs they promised — we didn’t get them. =20 We can’t afford this R45 service charge.”=20
These are the people who seem ripe for the kind of =20 apolitical Messiah-politics which Maluleke is planting =20 along with his trees.=20
AZAPO: Breaking the boycott=20
Meshack Mabogoane=20
Ronnie Mthembu, a former Azanian Peoples’ Organisation =20 (Azapo) organiser in Soweto — now a Democratic Party =20 local election candidate — does not see his =20 involvement in the DP and local elections as a betrayal =20 of his former struggle comrades.=20
Mthembu is one of a number of former liberation =20 movement leaders who have drifted into “white” parties =20 to contest the local elections. But for him, the leap =20 has been further than most: Indeed, Azapo has refused =20 altogether to participate in the “sham” elections.=20
He says: “Azapo ought to have participated in the =20 elections. After all, Azapo played the leading role in =20 initiating rent boycotts to remove undemocratic =20 community councillors. All this paved the way for the =20 present situation.=20
“Its inputs would be crucial at this stage, as it is =20 the major black organisation that was dealing with =20 community issues during the liberation struggle. It =20 made significant contributions to local affairs.”=20
Others who have left Azapo for mainstream political =20 life include Ishmael Mkhabela, a stalwart of Azapo’s =20 black community programmes, who is now chairman of the =20 National Housing Board, and Itumeleng Mosala, former =20 Azapo president who is now a senior member of the =20 Department of Education.=20
Yet Azapo remains resolute in its stance against =20 participation in elections under the present =20
What Mthembu’s “defection” appears to signify, is that =20 the “disilussionment vote” may feature in urban black =20 areas come the local elections, and that the =20 traditionally white parties will stand to gain as =20 racial barriers dissolve.=20
But old habits die hard. Recently in Soweto, Democratic =20 Party candidate Jerry Moloi was confronted by ANC =20 supporters and shouted down as a “white black boy”. =20
Such racial undertones, which identify the DP and =20 National Party with white interests, have led many of =20 its black candidates to be labelled “sell outs”, a =20 throw-back to the days of community councils and =20
THE MOTHER-IN-LAW: Keeping watch on the premier=20
Marion Edmunds=20
MOTHERS-IN-LAW are notorious for upsetting the delicate =20 balance of power that constitutes marital bliss. The =20 mother-in-law of Mpumalanga’s African National Congress =20 Premier, Mathews Phosa, has gone one step further — =20 she has set herself up as a watchdog of Phosa’s =20 provincial government and is running for the local =20 elections on an opposition ticket.=20
Fifty-eight-year-old Vengie Habile, mother of six, and =20 ma-in-law to Phosa, is standing for the Democratic =20 Party in the traditionally conservative Afrikaans town =20 of Middelburg. Although she is the first black woman to =20 contest a white ward in that area, she makes light of =20 her National Party and Freedom Front opposition, saying =20 that the DP is becoming more attractive to the =20 townsfolk as it offers more than a volkstaat and is not =20 tainted by the past.=20
Habile is also critical of her son-in-law’s party: =20 “Here we are faced with a lot of promises not fulfilled =20 — at least at this juncture. They should have shown at =20 least a willingness to do something about their =20
Habile sees the discontent with the ANC first-hand when =20 she visits the homeless, the aged, the infirm and the =20 disabled in the squatter camps in her area. She does =20 voluntary community work among the poor and in that way =20 keeps her fingers on the pulse of grassroots sentiment =20 and can speak with authority on the hot election issues =20 in Middelburg: unemployment, the squatter problem, =20 business’ role in the community, hostels and crime.=20
It’s not her standing among the poor, however, that =20 will count this time round. She is to compete for the =20 votes of the affluent, and has already started a door-=20 to-door campaign, using, no doubt, her matriarchal =20 grace to its best effect. Her matronly figure and her =20 motherly smile, however, belie a sharp, discerning mind =20 and an even sharper tongue which, Tony Leon-like, coins =20 a quote for every occasion.=20
She does not spare her son-in-law: “The man is good, =20 but there is some carelessness … he does not see =20 things that are happening under his nose.”=20
Habile is speaking in the wake of the Eugene Nyati =20 scandal of which she is particularly critical.=20
While Phosa might fear his mother-in-law on a political =20 level, he has nothing to worry about domestically. =20 Habile says that marrying “the most beautiful girl in =20 the world” — her daughter Pinkie — was the best thing =20 that Phosa ever did.=20