The exchange of bile between Western Cape Premier Helen Zille and the would-be defenders of President Jacob Zuma in the Umkhonto weSizwe Military Veterans’ Association and the ANC Youth League has led to public discussion on sex and politics.
I cannot agree with Jonny Steinberg, who appears to find the root of the sex-and-politics discourse in black men’s sexuality. Nor am I convinced by Marianne Thamm, whose argument leans on male misunderstanding of female sexuality. Is Zille vs Zuma really a battle of the sexes, as Thamm (Mail & Guardian, May 29) suggests? I think not. Moreover, by focusing narrowly on sex and sexuality, Steinberg risks rehearsing the old stereotype of the oversexed black man.
Violence against women and the oppression of women have little to do with men’s confusion about their sexuality or their sense of sexual entitlement. It is a consequence of the historical oppression of women and their position in society today.
Far from asserting ”sexual” entitlement, the insults hurled at Zille symbolise something deeper and more disturbing. It is the beginning of a reversal of one of the main achievements in the past 15 years: the right to speak and be heard. This episode also marks a deepening conservatism. Women can participate, 50-50, but ought to understand the ”limits” of their right to speak, let alone be heard.
Here we need to separate two distinct elements. First, Zille’s appointment of an all-male cabinet is an outrage. No matter how plausible excuses may sound, this is 2009 and it’s simply unacceptable. Second, the likes of the youth league and the veterans probably couldn’t have cared less how many women or men are in the Western Cape cabinet. Their anger was reserved for the fact that Zuma’s conduct in relation to women was criticised in public.
The president, in the view of these organisations, must be worshipped and any criticism of him will be met with threats of ”ungovernability” and with matlhapa (insults). In no time, the ”big man” syndrome becomes entrenched, while women ”leaders” slowly become apologists for misogyny and backwardness.
It took a man, Mbuyiseli Botha, to haul Julius Malema in front of court for hate speech, while the ”sisters” in Cabinet and at Luthuli House remained silent as a barrage of insults was directed at women from the men within their party.
When crude language is employed to silence women, it is often a precursor for a more generalised form of sanctioning. Today it is a woman ”speaking out of turn”; tomorrow, a trade unionist, a gay man, a journalist, a cartoonist, the people of Khutsong …
Our task is to cultivate in young people deep respect for open democratic space. When insults are used to deny any of us of our right to speak, we must all rise in defence.
Morudu is a writer in Cape Town