Steven Friedman worm’s eye view Last week was a good one for those of us who insist that reality in this society is more complicated than the doom-sayers suggest.
For those who insist we are on an inevitable path to authoritarianism, the national conference on racism allowed government politicians to polarise us further by demonising their opponents. This seems to be the view of the Democratic Alliance’s (DA)Dene Smuts, who dismissed the gathering as a waste of time and money, and other opposition politicians who complained of bias. But while it is too early to say whether the conference moved us forward, it seems hard to sustain the view that the way in which it debated race set us back or silenced discussion. One of the more bizarre aspects of post- apartheid society is the tendency of some minority interests to proclaim themselves victims of a new racist authoritarianism, while making use of public-speaking opportunities – some of them, like last week’s, at government invitation. In authoritarian states the opposition is not invited to debate national questions on public platforms. In irrevocably racially polarised societies, the black president does not welcome home white hostages. Whatever dangers may face us, we are a more open, inclusive, society – and our politics and race relations are more complex – than some are willing to acknowledge. The tendency not to recognise these subtleties leads both to bad analysis and a failure to recognise opportunities. This was illustrated by response to perhaps the most important event at the gathering: President Thabo Mbeki’s opening address, which stressed repeatedly that race should not be used to silence debate or criticism. To opponents such as Tony Leon, Mbeki’s remarks were deceptive; he does not really want debate because he implied that it was self-evident that whites were responsible for racism. But to see in the speech a subtle totalitarianism is to stretch credulity too far.
It is important to remember the context in which Mbeki spoke – one in which he had been accused of using race to silence critics, including black intellectuals. He acknowledged that some believed that “racist” was an epithet used to silence government critics. But, rather than denounce those who take this view, he took the opposite tack: “Having heard that the government acts in a manner that seeks to intimidate those who differ with it, I would like to take this opportunity to encourage all our people to break through the barrier of fear and to speak their minds.” Many other passages strike a similar theme. Mbeki said delegates were free to dismiss his remarks as “the most unadulterated rubbish that you have ever had the pain to listen to”; he urged a contention of “ideas and not the reduction of ideas to persons”; he insisted that “none of us should seek to suppress this discussion…” There are many other examples. It is easy to be cynical about the speech. Careful readers may note that Mbeki still implies that those who accuse his administration of intolerance are white, ignoring the real challenge from black intellectuals; some could see this as a source of continuing pressure on black critics. And the speech does come as the Human Rights Commission report on the media and responses to critics of municipal privatisation in Johannesburg suggest that openness to dissent is not as pervasive as Mbeki suggests. But, placed in context, the speech could be a watershed. The Mbeki administration has not been one in which “letting a hundred schools of thought contend” – the phrase he cited to signal his support for vigorous debate – has been a government priority. Improving public administration – and centralising authority to do that – has taken precedence over strengthening democracy. The desire of the African National Congress leadership for greater control has fitted conveniently with a fashion in donor governments’ thinking, which suggests that the government should operate more like business. The result is a stress on management rather than debate and participation. More power is concentrated in the president’s office and the national ANC, ostensibly to ensure effective management. And, while no one’s civil rights are infringed, criticism of the government has often been portrayed as a luxury which diverts from the primary task of “delivery”. Senior people in the government are now beginning to acknowledge in private that this strategy is not working. Imposing control over the administration (let alone society) is proving far more difficult than they imagined. Faced with that reality, a government committed to strengthening its hold on decisions to promote “delivery” has two options.
The first is to redouble efforts to get the government and society to conform. Centralisation’s failure leads to more centralisation – and increased intolerance to criticism. The second is to recognise that the fault may lie with the centralisers, who have vastly underestimated how much control it would take to whip the government, let alone society, into shape. Here the result would be greater willingness to open up debate, to give up some power in order to wield more influence on events.
For those who believe that doom is inevitable, there is no prospect that the government will choose the second option. The speech does not necessarily mean it will. But, faced with the charge that he is trying to silence critics, the president has responded not by amplifying the rhetoric of polarisation, but by insisting that he does welcome intellectual diversity.
That at least opens the possibility that he and those around him may respond to control’s failure by easing up rather than cracking down. How do we know if they will? The only way to find out is to take Mbeki at his word and to hold him to the standards he has set himself. And that means assuming that criticism will indeed be regarded as a contribution to strengthening democracy rather than as a sign of ill intent. Some may choose to respond to the invitation by continuing the pattern signalled by this week’s opposition response. That is their right. But minorities who adopt a style of opposition which seeks to polarise are unlikely to be taken seriously by public opinion. The real test of Mbeki’s speech will be his attitude to those, most but not all of them black, who do identify with the new order but offer another perspective. They include trade unionists who oppose the growth, employment and redistribution strategy, Aids activists who query the government’s approach to the virus and intellectuals who feel that the quality of democracy matters as much as techniques of public management. If Mbeki’s speech signals a new willingness to recognise these and other critics as valued participants in the national debate, it may prove the most important he has made since his inauguration.