/ 27 October 2000

Give us a good reason to vote

Glenda Daniels A SECOND LOOK I spent last weekend agonising about whether to vote in the local government elections. As a black South African, how can one not vote after so many people have made sacrifices, suffered enormous hardship and even died to make a democratic South Africa possible? From this point of view the very thought of not exercising one’s fairly newly won right to vote seems ludicrously irresponsible. But to vote you need to have a level of confidence in the party you’re voting for. And not to vote indicates a lack of commitment to the country, and shows no civic duty and responsibility. I’ve often heard journalists declare that they won’t vote because, loftily, they believe they are already making an equally important contribution by covering elections. Also, they would prefer to be non-partisan so that they can be “fair”, the argument goes. However, I joined the African National Congress at the age of 19 after I’d finished “A” levels in Botswana, and even though I haven’t been an active member since I became a journalist more than 10 years ago, I have been a loyal but sometimes critical supporter. I’ve become more critical with every year, and am now disillusioned. After returning to South Africa in 1984 I became a T-shirt-wearing, flag-waving, toyi-toying activist in many mass democratic structures such as the United Democratic Front, the Azanian Students’ Organisation, the South African Students Congress, the Natal Indian Congress, the ANC Youth League and other structures. In these organisations I was committed to and optimistic about the future of a country where racial tensions would ease and poverty and sexism would be at least alleviated. Now I find myself feeling politically alienated because I disagree on fundamental issues of principle with the ANC over far too many of the party’s stances. These issues have been raised ad nauseam by this newspaper. And, interestingly enough, I’ve heard many old comrades and party faithfuls, after a few glasses of wine at a dinner party, shyly and reluctantly agreeing with the Mail & Guardian on its criticisms of the president’s and the government’s incessant and unhelpful muddying of the water concerning the link between HIV and Aids. The agreement extends to the M&G’s critiques of the government’s stance on Zimbabwe – particularly its refusal to condemn manifest human rights abuses there. And the too often unfortunately Africanist views on race emanating from officialdom come under dinner-party fire too. Not the whole of the ANC shares these views, but if the president is espousing them, then the party is tainted and so is the government. It’s a long time since I’ve heard anything along the lines of: “We are all South Africans, we have to assert our nationhood and not think of ourselves as black or white, but rather work towards making a better future for all.” The non-racial ideal seems to have disappeared since we all stood in long queues to vote, for the first time democratically, in 1994. Many say it disappeared with the end of Nelson Mandela’s reign. Maybe, but what I find unfortunate is this: when, as a black person, one says Mandela was a great president, a lot of fellow black journalists and friends look at you askance as if to say, “You might as well be a white liberal” – because their view is often that Mbeki gets criticised because “he is a strong black president who is not kowtowing to white fears and needs, as Mandela did”. Well, I think that is all nonsense. It’s time to forget defending people because they are black or white or any race, but rather look at what we need right now, and that is for someone at the top to unite this country, which seems to be currently nationally depressed. The national depression is not just among the chattering classes (I think journalists fall into this category too), but also among township people who live in shacks and are often unemployed, workers on farms whose lives have not changed or petrol-pump attendants who earn measly wages. I’m not saying let’s stop talking about race issues, or that they don’t exist: talk about it all you like, if it makes you happy. But let’s rather look at real issues instead of using race to deflect from weaknesses. I saw an outstandingly outrageous example of this deflection at the Congress of South African Trade Unions (Cosatu) conference last month – which was so brilliantly organised, by the way, that I think Cosatu should take a shot at running the country. At the congress, Mbeki cunningly deflected real tensions between labour and the government by making a speech about how the racist opposition is “trying to divide our people”. Many Cosatu delegates were startled and puzzled. They wanted, after all, a response to issues in the alliance such as macro-economic policy, among others. In fact, during the lunch break, after Mbeki’s speech, many delegates said that it was a “clever” speech as it did not deal with the workers.

But back to voting. In my view the Democratic Alliance (DA) is a party to protect white privilege, so I couldn’t possibly vote for them. I sometimes wonder what whites who previously voted for the Democratic Party will now do? I don’t think many previous DP supporters will with a clear conscience be able to vote for the DA. So liberals are feeling alienated too, even though it no doubt lifts their heavy hearts when they see television images of Tony Leon schmoozing up to black people in Soweto, and even trying to toyi-toyi. If I were a liberal rather than a left-leaning person, then I still wouldn’t have a party to vote for. We need another party, one that will stick with true non-racialism and will happily house all those people whom I have a lot in common with – black and white, rich and poor, men and women, feminists, trade unionists, environmentalists, gay rights activists, Aids activists, anti-gun lobbyists …

In the meanwhile, we don’t have that other party, so I can’t vote. But maybe the ANC will take up the challenge from thousands of politically alienated people and get back to their original principles. We can still dream, can’t we?