Am I the only one squirming with discomfort at the recent trend for black men and women to declare “well of course, I’m not an affirmative action appointment”?
When did affirmative action (AA) become a dirty word? The affirmative action policies enshrined in our law were never intended as an insult, yet black people are eschewing the title with a ferocity that is astounding. Why don’t they want to acknowledge the fact that AA has given them a leg up and a way to knock on doors that would previously have been shut tight against them?
Without AA many people would never have developed the vaguest notion, never mind the actual opportunity, of getting their foot in the door. Prior to the advent of AA the reason that an African woman could not have become CEO of a major corporation was not because she lacked the aptitude, but because the doors were nailed shut against her by the old school tie and golf club brigade. AA is a way of prying those doors open, with a crowbar if necessary. Black people have always had the potential, the stamina and the talent to achieve and succeed. But without AA, those with potential may not have been given the chance to compete, to be interviewed, or even to present their CVs for appraisal.
The simple truth is that by denying the fact that you are an AA appointee, you deny that the process has a purpose and that it has been proved to be vital. If AA is such an epithet, does this mean we agree that SA business was run by white men all these years because they were the best people for the job?
To distance yourself from AA is to agree that it is a synonym for second class, dull witted and incapable. Have we taken it on as a truism because some in pale male corporate South Africa have decided that it is a bad thing? We need to examine who is playing this card and who benefits from us thinking like this.
If we renounce AA we confirm the view of certain racists that affirmative action is not a good thing: “Even they have turned their backs on it, so how good can it be?” they snicker as they watch us try to escape the label. Let’s own that label and ensure that it means what we mean it to be, not the distorted view which some have attached to denigrate it.
It is true that many AA appointees feel huge pressure to prove themselves, and that often white men are considered competent until proved otherwise, while black women are considered incompetent until they prove the contrary. This is part of the pain of transformation but we should not let it alienate us from this very necessary process that has allowed us to gain a firm foothold in both the public and private sector.
And just as being a pale male is no longer any kind of guarantee it is equally not good enough simply to be black and/or female — you need to be able to cut it. Women have always been able to cut it, but they have simply lacked the opportunity. And this lack of opportunity — one of the central tenets of apartheid — is what AA seeks to undo, by realigning society and creating a fairer balance. We are engaged in dismantling the legacy of apartheid, so why should we be coy about reaping the fruits of measures designed to rectify these injustices?
How interesting that those who have become members of the black opinion-forming elite continue to dismiss the notion that they have got there through the process of affirmative action. There is a massive contradiction in refusing to be seen as an AA appointment in an environment where BEE deals are flourishing and empowerment charters are being developed. How amusing to see individuals going on about the need for transformation and equity but being quick to point out that they personally didn’t need it to get where they are (but that maybe all those other blacks and women could benefit from some).
Why shrug off the title while happily bestowing it on others? Own it, as an important part of a transforming society, as an honour to be one of the first to be given this opportunity. This is a vital period in our history and if we are to claim our rightful place in South African society we need to recognise that it’s fine to be an AA appointee because that spells change and hope.
While we decide what we want for the future we must be very careful about how we choose to construct history, particularly if we wish to pave the way for future generations of black women who still sit at the bottom of the power barrel.
We must lay a foundation of hope for those who are to follow, regardless of race and gender, in the hopes of creating a future that will allow the equal opportunities necessary for a diverse, healthy society. We must guard against placing our egos ahead of this vital societal priority.
Zanele Nkosi is an independent consultant specialising in transformation