A few Sundays ago I had the pleasure of spending the day in Maycomb County, Alabama. I hadn’t been there in years, but it is a place I like to revisit every now and again when in search of inspiration. It is a testament to the sublime storytelling of Harper Lee that when you read her classic novel To Kill a Mockingbird, you feel like you’re there, in the 1930s’ Deep South, with all its bigotry and simple ways.
When you’re a child reading the book, you get caught up in and relish the amusing antics of Jem and Scout Finch. You are afraid of — yet desperate to see — the neighbourhood recluse Boo Radley.
Revisiting Maycomb County, I thought that perhaps it was Jem and Scout’s lawyer father, Atticus Finch, who is my new hero. He raises his two boisterous children as a single father, with the help of his steely black helper, Calpurnia.
As a lawyer and legislator, he is a man of principle, conscience and integrity in a community steeped in injustice and racial animosity. By defending a black man accused of raping a white girl, he earns the wrath of many in the town and the unwavering respect of some.
He launches a spirited and cunning defence of Tom Robinson, but he does so knowing that it is against the odds. A Southern jury is not about to accept the word of a decent, hard-working black man over the accusations of a young white girl, however questionable her character. Yet he takes on the case nonetheless. There is to be no victory in the courts – the victory lies in what he has taught his children.
It is through his ability to be cool and rational, even at the worst of times, that he emerges as one of the strongest literary characters I’ve ever known. His neighbour, Miss Maudie, says it best when she says: “Atticus Finch is the same in his house as he is on the public streets.”
He stands up for what’s right but doesn’t show off about his accomplishments. He does what needs to be done because he is courageous – even when he stands alone and risks being ostracised. He respects the views of others and engages his children openly and maturely, without stifling or rubbishing their ideas just because they are children.
As a country, we have been mulling over the thorny question of leadership. The issue has been put on the table at many political gatherings in the past few weeks.
The ANC Youth League’s elective congress kicked things off with its re-election of Julius Malema, who has called for what he says is proper leadership, although he won’t be drawn on exactly what he means by this. He wants the ANC to start discussing leadership questions or ideals from now and not to wait until next year when the party’s elective congress takes place. He says this would not give people enough time to discuss the calibre and quality of leadership they want.
The mother body, the ANC, resists: it says this would be tantamount to undermining its leadership. Yet the Gauteng ANC has come out in support of the youth league’s stance. Union federation Cosatu seems surprisingly indecisive about whether it wants the leadership question dealt with, but seemed to back the ANC, saying the debate should be deferred.
There were some statements, though, that seemed to suggest President Jacob Zuma was being put on notice: Cosatu general secretary Zwelinzima Vavi lamented a leadership that is “zigzagging, dithering and indecisive”. How ironic.
It is clear that we are headed for another bruising battle in the ruling party, marked by cloak-and-dagger machinations, ahead of the ANC’s elective congress next year. It will be similar to what we saw in the run-up to the 2007 conference at Polokwane. It’s difficult to know whether these would-be leaders are motivated by a sense of public duty or service.
Is it naive and simplistic to say we want people who will be courageous, honest and principled, who will stand up for what’s right in the face of criticism?
We need a stoic Atticus Finch to lead, not because of the adornments and praise that come with high office but because that person “will be the same in his home as he is on the streets”. That is a person you can trust.