I met Chris Dlamini almost 30 years ago when, as president of the Federation of South African Trade Unions food union, he arrived in Pietermaritzburg to defuse a major political battle with Inkatha. The man who walked into our office all those years ago was an unassuming, street-savvy leader.
When he spoke we felt his presence. After a difficult meeting of many hours, an organiser who was sending illegal reports to Ulundi was dismissed. In the face of fierce counterÂattack Chris went on to be a key part of the peace talks that followed with Inkatha.
He was a unifier first, then a trade unionist, civic leader and communist — but never in a dogmatic sense. He was not a bully shouting down comrades in a hail of the militant rhetoric that was our tool for mobilisation; he was at the centre of our patient attempts to build organisation. Back then we had only a few factories organised and were faced with the twin challenges of brutal state repression and employer opposition.
The 1980s were a watershed decade in South Africa’s history. Chris was fiercely opposed to tribalism and ethnicity. Nonracialism was wired into his DNA. He was part of the core group that stewarded the ‘unity talks†that led to Cosatu.
Chris was also a loving father. I spent many nights sleeping on the worn-out sofa in his home in Kwa Thema. He always found quiet moments for his children, despite his home being a railway station, with throngs of activists.
In the years we worked together I knew Chris as a man of integrity who put the needs of workers and the country before his own. When, as two veterans, we met recently at the Cosatu congress our hearts warmed at the sea of red T-shirts, the fierceness of the debates and the astute leadership of Sdumo Dlamini and Zwelinzima Vavi, who steered the congress that still represents many of the founding values of the congress.
He recognised the complexity of the challenges facing Cosatu today — the reality of globalisation. The harshness of competition left us exposed to huge job losses as the world shifted manufacturing production to China and India.
Fifteen years later we have not dramatically improved the skills base of workers or been able to land a significant blow against Âinequality or unemployment that hovers at about 30%. This is why Polokwane offered hope.
His hope that the enthusiasm and passion of the past could build a national pride that puts service ahead of our individual desire to accumulate is one shared by many of us.
It’s a hope that we will be honest in condemning corruption and that real black empowerment is not only about creating a small black elite but about empowering entrepreneurs, who run production; not just about black executives running our state-owned enterprises but more about how to make our schools, clinics and public sector work for the poor.
Ultimately, democracy and empowerÂment had to mean that we were delivering the better life we had promised our people in 1994. That is what the Chris Dlamini I knew stood for.