South African Yearbook 2003/04
(GCIS)
Contemporary South Africa
by Anthony Butler
(Palgrave)
If you are looking for a faultless compilation of our country’s anatomy, the South Africa Yearbook 2003/04 published by the Government Communication and Information Service is a work of public relations art. If you are looking for a candid translation, Contemporary South Africa is more to the point.
The yearbook deals mainly with progress over the past year while Anthony Butler’s book latches on to the Decade of Freedom brouhaha. However it avoids the sugary euphemisms that have gone hand-in-hand with this retrospection — it is a frank, academic prism through which to view the past 10 years.
Both books break the country into tidy chunks: from its history, the economy, social development, the government system and the economy to arts and culture, the environment, mineral and energy and sport.
The yearbook, which is printed every year by the government, is an encyclopedic paraphrase of South Africa and is the most detailed reference of the country currently on the shelves. Its 737 pages are saturated with statistics, acronyms and feel-good photographs as well as the finer details of all the country’s legislation, international affairs, statutory bodies, provinces, government departments and some more mundane titbits such as the state of marine resources — including details on squid and seaweed. Presumably the intention of the book is not to inspire but simply to act as a reference. At that level it is exceptional.
Butler’s book is more intellectual, although it avoids the pretentiousness that sometimes accompanies such literature. He is an associate professor of political studies at the University of Cape Town. The book is a neat autopsy of the country’s structure with a level of debate that while isn’t novel is concise and thought-provoking. It is perfectly tailored for university students and readers looking for a succinct overview of the country. It is pragmatic and the author’s unaffected turn of phrase contrasts with the stodginess of the yearbook. Butler guides the reader through the political, social and economic terrain of a country that has the potential of being textual nightmare — muddled and convoluted. But its attempt to be all-inclusive also means that it only scratches the surface of most debates and issues.
The yearbook offers a sense of security in that it is an informational powerhouse. If you are caught on a limb, need an obscure statistic, or need to bolster some research, it should be your first port of call. The writing is bureaucratic and the majority of the information is taken from the government’s website, just spruced up with pull-out boxes, statistical tables and biographical information on key personalities. It should always be balanced with a touch of reality.
I found Butler’s book less pioneering and more a revision of South Africa’s past, although it is not staid and repetitive. It is an undemanding read although not unchallenging and Butler successfully restores familiar debates without stating the obvious.
Both books would be a worthwhile addition to your shelves, not for their startling intelligence but for those stats and facts that should be obvious but are usually inaccessible and easily forgotten.