Let’s admit it: the lives and livelihoods of many South Africans did not change much when the old system crumbled
Last night I went to a dinner of a wonderful organisation called Shared Interest. Many of its leaders were involved during the fight against apartheid promoting corporate responsibility, reaching out to the business and investment community in the United States to support sanctions and corporate withdrawal to squeeze the apartheid system.
When apartheid did fall, Shared Interest emerged in a “let’s help the new South Africa grow” mode, seeking out investors and training opportunities for South Africa.
They raised money from investors, networked with South Africans and played an exemplary role by organising microfinance projects that have helped more than l,8-million people. I support their work and, having been to South Africa in the bad old days of apartheid, I marvel at the progress that has been made there with help from groups worldwide.
But too many of us who identify with and support South Africa are silent about developments there we find deeply flawed.
There are also serious problems we cannot overlook: deepening poverty and a growing gap between the white and black upper classes and the people trapped in poverty.
Let’s admit it: the lives and livelihoods of many South Africans did not change much when the old system crumbled.
I think it is time for those of us who worked so hard to support the movement for freedom to become better friends with folks in South Africa by speaking out against some very deplorable trends now compromising South Africa’s global reputation.
South Africans did not end apartheid by themselves. They were supported by anti-apartheid movements the world over who organised, rallied, petitioned, marched and gave millions of dollars for the cause. They were backed by the nations of the world through the United Nations and, in the end, even by companies who pulled out or would no longer roll over loans. On the battlefield they had help from Cuba and underground assistance from activists who backed the African National Congress for decades.
They should listen to their friends now just as they welcomed their support then.
Last month marked the anniversary of the Sharpeville massacre of 1960, reminding us of the 69 martyrs who fought, bled and died to end apartheid. Out of respect for their memory, and to honour all the sacrifices by so many for so long, it’s time for friends of South Africa to speak up and speak out critically — just as supporters of Israel are being asked to do as part of a larger fight for peace and justice.
Many feel the best way to support Israel is to encourage it to end its occupation and allow Palestinian self-determination. Those of us who treasure and identify with South Africa’s transformation have to be willing to do the same to remind them and ourselves about why we fought too.
I helped create and produce the South Africa Now TV series to fight censorship of the struggle. Later I produced and directed six films with and about Nelson Mandela and the fight for freedom there.
I also made media about the Aids disaster. I am hardly an expert but I think I know something about the country and have earned the right to speak out.
How can we ignore seeing some political personalities who have blatantly profited personally because of their association with the struggle and who have used their positions to do all sorts of shady business deals with perks and government contracts to enrich themselves while the masses of the people see little improvement in their lives?
There is no shortage of documentation by media organisations, courts and government commissions that have probed dodgy arms deals, empowerment deals in name only, nepotism, kickbacks and worse. South Africa’s ANC is in danger of losing the moral high ground that made it so unique for so many years.
I interviewed the late ANC leader, Joe Slovo, on the eve of Nelson Mandela’s election for my film Countdown to Freedom. He expressed his fears that corruption in what he called “the flesh pots” could forever damage the struggle.
How can South Africa criticise corruption in other African states if it tolerates it so widely at home?
Do we who acted in solidarity with South Africa for so long have no right to demand some solidarity from former leaders who seem to have cast their principles aside? Of course we do.
Do non-South Africans in the US and Europe have a right to raise these questions? I believe we must!
It is not for me to pass judgment on anyone, especially from a distance of 16 000km. I don’t have any standing to get involved in domestic political battles, neither do I want to. But does that mean I must shake my head and stay silent?
True, my life wasn’t on the line the way many of theirs were. I wasn’t in prison or brutalised. My sacrifices were minimal. But that’s still no excuse for some to help themselves to high salaries, profits, cars and benefits, all in the name of black empowerment and the liberation movement.
Yes, there must be black economic power as well as black political power but not in the corrupt way it is occurring in too many instances. There is no entitlement for shakedowns and payoffs. There is no licence to steal. No one is owed a living.
Accountability and transparency are values that demand respect in practice, not just in rhetoric. The new dispensation in South Africa must not be allowed to degenerate into emulating the old one, and I know that was riddled with corruption too, even if the press doesn’t seem to remember.
This is a moral issue as well as a political one.
There is also no excuse for me to stand by and take refuge in the touchy-feely good vibes of the past without speaking out about some very disgraceful practices in the present that are being justified often by so-called leaders and party apparatchiks in defensive, demagogic and even racist terms. This leads to divisiveness and racial polarisation and promotes cynicism.
I think I know why some of this is happening. Many who were deprived in the past say it’s their time now, that they deserve opportunities they were deprived of, and that they didn’t fight or go to prison to be monks or to live in shacks.
I understand that — but what I don’t understand is why more of the ANC’s base is not speaking out against what Archbishop Desmond Tutu has called “the Gravy Train”, the looting of public funds and what the country says it stands for. I can’t speak out against crime on Wall Street and ignore fraud and similar crimes in another country I came to love.
How did some of these “leaders” suddenly become millionaires?
We need to discuss this.
I am not here to name names. I have no vendetta to start, no self-righteousness to ventilate. I am myself in a business that is fighting for survival. I am not here to lecture anyone. I understand contradictions.
But I do think that those of us who supported campaigns for freedom because of our belief in universal justice and human rights have a right and a duty to expect accountability, honesty, openness and transparency from a country that owes its transformation to an international struggle.
I believe we have a responsibility and a duty to challenge practices that dishonour South Africa and all it stands for. They also dishonour our own participation over the years in the freedom fight.
I, for one, question all the money spent on staging World Cup games while unemployment grows and misery spreads. This can easily turn into a cruel joke that the country will be paying for in years to come. Do we need more circuses, when the people need more bread? I want to see a debate on issues like this, not a cover-up in the name of commerce and national pride. Will others join me in speaking out?
Danny Schechter is a filmmaker and author based in New York