His name would send shivers down the spines of those familiar with him. He never held a job in his life. His brushes with the law were legendary. Baptised at an early age into a life of crime, he had been, at the time of his death, convicted of petty theft, house breaking, burglary, hijacking, murder, rape and cash-in-transit heists.
His fleeting locations, at home, in prison, or in his many hideouts were shrines for aspiring criminals. Our very own Al Capone, he taught them the tricks of the trade. Like all megalomaniacs, he mistook the fear for a mark of respect — and confused grovelling with popularity. News of his death spread like wildfire.
His funeral drew multitudes. Some had come to confirm that he was actually dead and buried, others to delight in discussing his adventures. For some it was business — to look for clues about the whereabouts of the missing millions from his recent cash heist. Yet at his funeral, speaker after speaker extolled his virtues — as if to compensate for his misdeeds. Here was the embodiment of loyalty, who generously shared what was his (in other words, the spoils of crime) with friends. Had it not been for the rotten system, he would have made a great entrepreneur and a scientist. He was after all, able to override the most sophisticated car immobilisers.
Before long, the portrait was that of Einstein, Gandhi and Bill Gates rolled in one. And it was accepted with remarkable mental composure. To suggest otherwise would be to display the most vulgar form of cultural insensitivity. Africans do not speak ill of the dead, the refrain goes.
By raising questions about Peter Mokaba’s struggle record and former defence minister Joe Modise’s betrayal of public trust, the Mail & Guardian has been accused of flouting this rule.
But appeals of this kind are often selective and hypocritical, not to mention politically expedient.
The African National Congress’s refusal to publicly confront Modise’s failures as a guerrilla leader and government minister had less to do with African culture than with preserving the legendary status of ANC leaders in exile. In Mokaba’s case, one concern was to keep the youth vote, and the vote in the far north, on board.
When it suits them, South Africa’s leaders break African cultural norms. When President Thabo Mbeki rudely pushed Winnie Madikizela-Mandela in front of the whole world at a June 16 commemoration last year, the ruling party was deafening in its silence. Respect for women demanded by African culture, especially for those older than oneself, was conveniently forgotten. Instead Madikizela-Mandela was rebuked for coming late.
”Ubuntu” values life. But the champions of African culture were nowhere to be heard when the government sacrificed tens of thousands of babies to early and painful deaths through a misguided HIV/Aids policy. It took mass demonstrations, the courts, and public castigation by local and international media to force a change.
Furthermore, the government has been ready to sell arms to countries with a poor human rights record. Where is African culture or ubuntu when commitments to human rights are outweighed by economic considerations?
We make much of our commitment to putting people first, yet our expenditure on weapons outstrips spending on the health of our people.
Perhaps nothing makes more nonsense of our appeal to African culture than our contempt for traditional institutions. It is in these institutions that culture is sustained. We have been keen to borrow, wholesale, the white man’s courts, his Parliament, his executive arm of government and his economic system.
Our leaders sheepishly ingratiate themselves with the Queen of England while disregarding African traditional leaders.
When are appeals to culture genuine? When do particular cultural practices become relevant or redundant? Who makes these decisions?
Culture is a human product. Given South Africa’s broad matrix of different religions, language and ethnic groups, and urban and rural locations, cultural differences are to be expected. To hold the view that African culture is homogeneous is to delude oneself.
Of course, one cannot discount overarching commonalities, in the same way that there are commonalities among people from a similar social and economic class.
Those who would want nothing to do with traditional healers, circumcision schools, polygamy and ancestor worship are no less African than those who value these practices and institutions.
In an economically stratified society, culture is also mediated by class origins. The promotion of colonial languages by African elites is a case in point. To flaunt their education, African politicians are infamous for addressing rural and urban African-language speakers in tongues that are hardly understood by their audiences and which they themselves handle with difficulty. This includes champions of the African Renaissance.
Thirdly, far from being static, culture provides us with tools for creating and shaping reality. It is both an instrument and a medium for innovation. Through interaction with other cultures, it opens new vistas and perspectives for social change. Opportunistic appeals to culture ignore its dynamism.
Culture is a double-edged sword. It can be an instrument for innovation and repression at the same time. When leaders appeal to it out of political expediency, it inhibits change.
Some leaders appeal to culture to justify their obsession with power, arguing that traditional African societies are akin to one-party states. Single-party dominance is presented as the correct vehicle to promote nationality and development. The record shows, however, that the dominance of one party is largely responsible for Africa’s under-development.
Lastly, globalisation admits and creates a kaleidoscopic field of ideas, information, values, styles and tastes, which are accessible to each individual for the purposes of self-expression. Those who exercise their freedom, including the freedom to impart and receive information, should be protected from misguided condemnation as cultural heretics.
Clinging to a narrow and restrictive version of culture, and forcing others do so, undermines our ability to participate in, and shape, an emerging global culture.