Let us, for the purposes of the debate, accept that Ronald Suresh Roberts is an insufferable demagogue who sings for his supper at the edge of President Thabo Mbeki’s table.
That said, the reason Roberts is currently occupying column space is not because he is in the running for the Mr Congeniality award. He wrote a book, fashioned as a scholarly piece of work, which purports to give its readers new insights into Mbeki. As a matter of fairness, Roberts’s relative charm or lack thereof should not be used to confuse a review of his work.
Fit to Govern asks more questions about our society, and answers a bit more about the president. Intentionally or not, the book is yet another reminder of the continued need for black people to “prove” themselves in whatever area they decide to engage their talents.
This metaphor applies just as much to the corporate world as it does to the playing field. The tired and unconvincing line that criticism does not refer to black people “in general” is done in by the frequency and variety of its repetition, directed against individuals who happen to be black.
The decision to appoint a deputy chairperson at Barloworld for Dumisa Ntsebeza, when his white predecessor needed no such help, speaks to whether Ntsebeza is “fit to govern”. Similarly, the persistent carping at South Africa’s ability to pull off a credible football World Cup is rooted in the innate prejudices that some hold against Africa and Africans.
Pretending that such prejudices don’t exist is self-delusion. After all, these racists are unable to keep their prejudice in check. They just blurt it out, as did an irate Bedfordview resident who exclaimed on Radio 702 last week, in response to power failures in the area, that “they are untrained and incompetent. It is the reflection of this government.”
Accusations of “obsession with race” or the even more hackneyed “playing the race card” tend to be informed by the belief that those who perceive racism will also confess to having spotted flying saucers. It has become the height of uncool to say South Africa is a racist society.
Some commentators have referred to the book as being a defence of Mbeki. That itself betrays a preconceived view: that the president needs defending.
Roberts quotes names and incidents of obvious racism by some of the doyens of South African liberalism. He is either falsely doing so — in which case he should be discredited and the debate ended there — or his facts are correct and should not be wished away because they shake our confidence in certain individuals.
Mbeki’s critics should have demonÂstrated a bit more willingness to examine the content of the book. Granted, for some readers, Roberts’s “new” insights may be old hat. But one wonders why so few were willing to discuss the author’s analysis of
Mbeki’s attitude to race, Aids and Zimbabwe, which, if quoted faithfully and in context, suggest that the president’s stance is far more nuanced than the media and opposition parties make out.
Roberts’s book makes an important point. Alas, because he betrays his obvious contempt for some of his subjects — such as Sunday Times editor Mondli Makhanya — he risks losing the credibility that the book might have earned along with other titles in response to white racism.
Perhaps this is emerging as Roberts’s tragic flaw. If only he had followed the example he says Mbeki sets: “Never mere ‘anger’ with its disparaging colonial connotations of natives running amok, unhinged. That is not Mbeki. More than anger at old racial and gender injustices, Mbeki’s driving notion is the creation of a durable institutional structures to undo injustice.”
In any event, until occasions of racism become more infrequent, the likes of Roberts, unlikeable or not, will rightly find the need to speak out.
Fikile-Ntsikelelo Moya is associate editor (sports) of the Mail & Guardian