HAZEL FRIEDMAN tries to get beneath the inscrutable surface of Arts minister Lionel Mtshali
Picture a coat-tailed Victorian gentleman posing for one of those daguerreotype photographs and you’ll probably come up with a reasonable facsimile of Lionel Mtshali, Minister of Arts, Culture, Science and Technology. Starchily polite, unblinking, with an air of impenetrability effectively masking most traces of shyness, Mtshali is undoubtedly a man of form.
As for content? Politely put, getting him to venture beyond the unrippled lake of policy rhetoric into the choppier waters of outspoken and — dare I say — personal opinion, is like trying to catch a tan in an ice-box.
Example: If the world was going to end tomorrow and you were allowed to perform only one task for the cause of culture, what would it be? His answer is unprintable, not because of its vulgarity but its evasiveness.
Has he found it daunting to be sailing the turbulent seas of South African culture? His reply is unflinchingly, maddeningly diplomatic.
“Not at all. I consider it a constructive challenge to make a contribution in arts and culture and to get involved in the rich diverse cultural forms that this country possesses.”
Does he feel passionately about any art form or cultural discipline in particular?
“I can’t single out anything in particular. That wouldn’t be fair.”
How does he feel about the state of culture in this country right now?
“The emergence of democratic culture has contributed to a shift in our thinking around culture and has broadened areas of responsibility at a time when budgets are shrinking.”
Now, there’s something I can pin him down on. But the minister is mum on money matters as well, except to stress that a portfolio that includes science and technology means that the minuscule budget gets shared by four mouths, not two. So there.
He talks a lot about principles of “concurrent responsibility informed by national norms and standards”, and the importance of “legislation which draws up parameters of responsibility on a national and provincial level”.
This, he says, will help provinces that don’t have the capacity to draw up their own legislation. Oh yes, and he makes a strong distinction between the roles of the Pretoria-based Department of Arts, Culture, Science and Technology, and the Ministry. The former deals with day-to-day administrative matters, the latter with policy.
But lest you start thinking that the only thing Mtshali is specific about is his lack of specificity, in all fairness, he hasn’t been in office long enough to formulate — – let alone articulate — content that transcends the realm of rhetoric and broad policy statement. After all, he only took over the post in October 1996 and was instantly bequeathed a hefty inheritance by his predecessor, fellow Inkatha Freedom Party member, Ben Ngubane, particularly in the form of the White Paper on Arts and Culture.
Insiders describe him as conservative but extremely fair and thorough; a traditionalist who absorbs details of issues, then commits himself irrevocably to a path of action.
This differentiates him from Ngubane, who provided an ear for everyone. The trouble is, Ngubane’s own voice was often drowned out by the babble, although his reign heralded major cultural milestones like the White Paper and the establishment of the National Arts Council.
While Ngubane’s affability, personal charisma and integrity were never in doubt, he often seemed afraid to make decisions that might have made him unpopular. By contrast, colleagues say, Mtshali has no such qualms. He’s even been described as an incorruptible man with no alternative agenda. And what he lacks in imagination, insiders say, he makes up for in resoluteness.
“My educational background has prepared me for the task of learning and leading,” he says.
Okay, so far he’s been playing follow-my- leader. But then again, while his credentials would have made him a suitable candidate for a job in that ministry, he was hardly prepared for the post of commander in chief on the cultural battlefront. As was the case with Ngubane, his was first and foremost a political appointment.
Born in 1935, in Kingsley, KwaZulu-Natal, the mission-educated Mtshali has been a staunch IFP member since his student years at Fort Hare during the 1970s. He is one of the last of an almost extinct species of unarmed warriors schooled in the hierarchical traditions of Shaka and Zulu pride. He is also a devout Christian and continues to serve as a lay minister at his church where he also sings in the choir.
And he is clearly a devoted husband and father. In fact the only time the mask slips, revealing a humble even humorous disposition, is when he opens up about more personal matters. This happens during the epilogue of our interview. Only then are there signs of an extremely likeable man emerging from the dour cloak of the ministry.