As skilled immigrants with 18 months’ residence in Johannesburg, we read Philip Machanik’s article (There’s a lot South Africa can do to solve the skills crisis, January 31) with interest, and it struck several chords. Much of what he writes is accurate, but some of his statements beg a response.
We moved to South Africa from the United Kingdom in July 2001. Our motivation was not only to expand professional horizons but to contribute to an emerging democracy. One of us is an academic whose employment first brought us to South Africa; the other was offered a job at a local NGO within months of arrival.
Despite what Machanick states, for a middle-income country with all sorts of problems, South Africa is quite good at attracting skilled immigrants: the Congolese doctor, the Zimbabwean IT professional, the Kenyan academic and the Zambian businesswoman all working in their respective fields.
The country has a high international profile, and when South Africa speaks, other countries (usually) listen, even when not in agreement. Witness the recent American response to Nelson Mandela’s outspoken criticism of George W Bush or Thabo Mbeki’s work in brokering peace deals in Central Africa. In other words, moving to South Africa does not involve falling off the map.
Some skilled immigrants have links with the country going back to the anti-apartheid movement; others are drawn by the prospect of working in a country struggling to reverse decades of nastiness; still others come for reasons as mundane as the weather and lifestyle or to just make a buck. And the wide use of English means South Africa is not linguistically isolated. Not bad.
The work-permit process for both of us was not onerous, except for the confusion and delays in dealing with documentation through the original immigration consultants. We didn’t find the paperwork difficult or the stipulations unreasonable, except perhaps the requirement to have tuberculosis chest X-rays for migration to a country where the infection rate is already high.
Once all the required documentation had been submitted and our employers fulfilled their responsibilities according to home affairs guidelines, we each received our respective work permits within three weeks, which is commendable for a government bureaucracy anywhere. In short, according to an acquaintance who is an immigration lawyer, the work permit process is pretty straightforward if one complies with the regulations.
But the ”if” is the rub. The existence of and compliance with regulations — be they immigration controls, tax regimes or car registrations — are part and parcel of what makes a state or supranational union, like the European Union, work. Neither states nor common economic zones allow completely unfettered immigration, be it skilled or unskilled. There are always some bureaucratic imperatives to fulfil.
When there are complaints about immigration controls in this country, it seems to be about the fact that there are rules to comply with, forms to fill out, multiple documents to tender and employment needs to be demonstrated. It takes time, planning, cash expenditure and work to satisfy these requirements.
And how much easier skilled immigration would be if it didn’t take all this effort, which leads on to the discussion about the culture of non-work. We wonder if some of the complaints aren’t about the immigration stipulations themselves but the work that is needed to fulfil them.
We agree with Machanik that there is a pervasive culture of non-work in some sectors as exemplified by the wasted time spent trying to complete apparently simple tasks, like calling … and calling … and calling the insurance broker to report a minor fender bender (we eventually gave up), the protracted absenteeism that everyone knows about but pretends doesn’t happen, and the tendency to blame the customer if something goes wrong.
It seems that responsibility at work is to be avoided if someone or something else can be blamed. Much of the griping about bad service or over-regulation is not misplaced in itself, but in its assumption that things are so much better elsewhere.
Anyone who has dealt with German immigration bureaucracy has many tales to tell. Machanik might well have had an easy move to Australia; but he would find that immigration regulations for the United States or EU countries are hardly the stuff of dreams and contingent on much the same conditions as in South Africa (despite the infinitesimally small chance of winning the green card lottery in the US).
Even between the US and EU the movement of skilled labour isn’t automatic, and is often difficult. Every closed labour market needs reasons to permit the influx of those from outside. If not, and if we can go by many passing conversations, then a good percentage of northern Johannesburg would have already decamped to London or California. And it isn’t just labour that is affected: US and various EU immigration authorities regularly decline thousands of tourist visa applications.
In sum, we do think that too many affluent South Africans feel ”entitled” to whatever they want without making the necessary effort to follow regulations or obey laws (”Why can’t I just hire, or fire, whoever the hell I want without interference?”). If such a sense of entitlement is as pervasive as we observe, South African society will remain fractured and Machanick will be occupied for decades looking for that elusive national self-esteem.
In a society as brutalised as South Africa, anything that can unite people is welcome. Olympic Games and World Cups might seem like frivolities, but Machanick may remember how many black South Africans supported the Springboks for the first time in the 1995 World Cup.
Our worry is that these feelings could evaporate if half the cricket team insists on dedicating this World Cup to a man who defrauded and debased the very game he loved.
Or is it the fact that he flouted the rules that makes his image doubly attractive?