They just don’t make ’em like they used to. This week, it took the grey-haired man in the purple cassock to crystallise the national psyche, with all its imperfections and its challenges, perfectly.
With the benefit of wisdom and age, Archbishop Desmond Tutu made clear his love for his “rainbow nation” — and then he laid right in. It had, he argued, by and large become the sycophantic nation.
“I am concerned to see how many have so easily been seemingly cowed and apparently intimidated to comply.”
Where, asked the arch, was the national debate on better poverty measures (such as a basic income grant), on empowerment, on “the HIV/Aids views of the president of the ANC” and where was the condemnation of rights violations (in Zimbabwe) “…whatever the struggle credentials of the perpetrator”?
Civil society, the opposition and the media are discussing these issues vigorously, but Tutu was addressing himself to the African National Congress. Given the dominance of the ruling party, his questions are vital.
He brings immense moral authority, deep reserves of compassion, and real rigour to bear where so many others seem to represent narrow, sectoral interests, and his speech may in time be seen as a defining moment for the country.
But that is precisely why it raises concerns of its own.
Will we always have to await the words of the sages to ask the tough questions? Nelson Mandela has stepped in in similar ways to counsel a more rights-based approach to both HIV/Aids and the unravelling democracy that is Zimbabwe. What will we do when the titans are gone? How will we then honour them? It is the challenge of this generation to cultivate the principled and bold leadership that Tutu’s speech personified. It is of great concern that a discernible successor generation has not yet made its presence felt.
Perhaps sensing the national mood that Tutu captured, the government’s response was diplomatic and constructive. The job of answering was left to the craftsmen and not the bullies. “As the archbishop said, we can have these debates without necessarily questioning the integrity or motives of those who disagree,” said government spokesperson Joel Netshitenzhe.
This has not always been the position of government and we can name many who have been basted and braaied for disagreeing. If this is a new chapter, then let it last and let it apply to all — big and small. As it turns the page, the nation should take the counsel of an even older man — Tutu’s father. The archbishop recounted this week that his father had always advised him: “Don’t raise your voice; improve your argument.”
Let there be light!
Johannesburg is South Africa’s commercial and industrial centre of gravity, and rather smug with it. Citizens of the Benoni-Braamfontein-Bryanston metropolitan axis never tire of reminding their dopey cousins at the coast and in the country that theirs is the city that works.
So it must have been with some measure of enjoyment that the rest of the country watched this week as traffic clotted in the streets, air-conditioners shuddered into silence, and vile-smelling liquid began to leak from the freezers of Auckland Park and Melville.
The four-day blackout was caused by what City Power authorities described as “a fire” at the Hursthill substation. That is a rather disingenuous way of putting it. What actually happened was that a transformer exploded because it could no longer handle the demands placed on it by Johannesburg’s stressed and dilapidated electrical grid.
So poorly has the city’s power network been maintained that authorities reckon power failures will be a feature of life for the next five years. So much for the city that works.
But residents of other metropolitan areas should probably not chuckle too loudly. Johannesburg’s problems are an augury of what may happen elsewhere if the transformation of electricity distribution is not handled carefully and expeditiously. All over the country councils have treated electricity charges as a revenue source and a policy tool; a tax to supplement rates and discipline delinquent debtors. Instead of putting money back into capital expansion and maintenance of local grids many have diverted funds into other programmes. And they are gazing in horror at the advent of the Regional Electricity Distributors, which will take both the revenue source and the policy tool out of their hands.
There is no doubt that this is a good thing. The price of electricity should reflect the cost of generating and delivering it, and it needs strong and transparent regulation. In the lead-up to the implementation of restructuring in 2008, however, it is not clear what incentive exists for municipalities to spend money on maintenance.
Johannesburg says it has a R1,9-billion capital works programme, much of it dedicated to electrical infrastructure. Residents and businesses would no doubt like to see it spent a lot faster. Other cities may need new transfers from the central fiscus.
If so, let’s see the money flowing. It’s no good throwing billions at new generators and dinky little nuclear plants if you can’t get the juice to the customer.