/ 8 March 1996

The power of hate speech

Dennis Davis criticised the Human Rights Committee; the chairman responded by calling him a racist. Now Davis asks why a man in this position uses hate speech

SPEECH characterises our humanity. It is fundamental to the development of a community. But speech can be employed to exclude targeted individuals or groups from participation, or even admission into a community.

In this lies the power and problem of hate speech. It defines the target out of the community, it proclaims that he or she is not worthy of the right of participation in the deliberations of society, it declares that the targeted individual has nothing to say for his or her speech is motivated exclusively by malice.

Barney Pityana’s announcement that I am a racist (M&G, February 23 to 29) exemplifies the potency of hate speech. Because I am a racist, any contribution I make to debate must be drowned out. As a racist, I deserve no right of participation.

In short, Pityana has proclaimed as chair of the Human Rights Committee (HRC) that I am not deserving of any concern or respect. Why have I been so condemned? For writing a 750-word article on proposals for an HRC, public protector and gender commission in the draft final Constitution in which I devoted some 100 words to a critique of the present HRC.

I claimed that: a) certain appointments had been made more for past political performance than potential future contributions and hence for reward; b) in at least a couple of cases the commitment of members of the HRC to human rights was more prominent in its absence than in its presence; and c) the HRC had done precious little to date.

My targets clearly included Chris De Jager, ex- Conservative MP, and a couple of other white appointees. The criticism could only have been construed as racist by someone determined to resist any criticism of the HRC and its record.

I stand by my criticisms. I cannot understand how someone who pursued racist policy with such determination in the immediate past should be a member of the HRC. I fully understand that government by coalition entails compromise, but not in relation to a commission enjoined to protect human rights.

Similarly, I find it unfortunate that John Dugard was not appointed because of the political desire to recognise another person which meant that Dugard was sacrificed.

Pityana’s letter reveals that the HRC has done next to nothing. When you have to claim the holding of regular meetings of highly paid commissioners as an achievement, one is really in trouble. Lest there be any doubt,compare the HRC with the performance of the truth commission, which was appointed far later.

But I do not think it makes any difference as to the nature of my criticism. Pityana cares not a jot about the merits. I am white, I teach at Wits and I criticised a commission appointed by the government and the president.

The term racist is, of course, used to create the necessary chilling effect. Racism is commonly understood to describe beliefs or policies in which racial identity is employed as a justification for treating those classified with less than equal concern and request.

The term is now extended to those who believe in a universal standard of evaluation in terms of which all persons, irrespective of race or gender, are assessed.

I have always believed that standards are contested. By contrast, some elements of liberal thought display an inherent fundamentalism, that only their world view holds the truth. The challenge for the country is to recognise liberal values, but to transform them in order to develop a society based on the principle of freedom and equality, rather than upon the image of the World Bank.

This is a radical and hence a contested political project. Given this background, I would have hoped that Pityana and I would have shared this view, and that the work of the HRC would help to engage in dialogue, not denigration with the advocates of liberalism.

Hence, I’m not sure whether calling me a liberal or a racist surprised me more. But my own politics is not the issue, nor should it be.

For Pityana, politics are irrelevant. Conformism is all important. If you fail to conform and you are white, you are a racist; if you are black and you do likewise, you are unpatriotic.

Observe how Pityana’s secondary assault is based on the accusation that “my ilk” have no respect for appointments made by the government or the president. Ours is not to criticise but to obey, for the government represents the people and to criticise the people is to be unpatriotic.

The ideal white is well represented in Margaret Legum’s sycophantic response (Letters, March 1 to 7) — smiling, uncomplaining and a part-time thinker, only considering how to rationalise government in action.

For Legum, the apartheid supporter is a preferable new South African to the liberal because the authoritarian psyche supports the status quo with enthusiasm and would never dream of criticising authority.

This explains Pityana’s astonishing claim that a requirement that members of the HRC have a commitment to human rights and gender equality is irrelevant. After all, Parliament is always right.

I have long accepted that the imperative for change demands that whites play a more modest role and learn to curtail the unrealistic career expectations which characterised apartheid. But that modesty should not extend to the denial of the right to participate in dialogue and debate.

The head of the HRC thinks otherwise. He denies me the right to engage in honest dialogue, for as soon as I criticise, I am labelled not worthy of being a member of the community.

In short, I have no human rights. How do we develop a democratic culture in South Africa when the HRC holds these views?