My friend and colleague Samantha Vice unintentionally sparked a volatile public debate by advancing the view that white selves damaged by apartheid should generally avoid the temptation of becoming public critics of the current political order. I think she should have placed even more emphasis than she does on humility, caring and careful introspection, and on vigorously resisting the temptation to climb to moral high ground when offering criticisms.
Less emphasis on silence would have helped as well — although, as attested by many of the responses to the debate, it is clear that there is need for it. Being brave enough sincerely to accept that white privilege is largely responsible for the woes of our land is central to achieving the requisite humility required for seeing through the protective mechanisms that lead to so many of the rationalisations expressed in the angry responses to Vice et al.
One of the most salient features that define the average criticism of the positions of Vice et al is the self-righteousness they express. These critics fancy themselves at some level as the morally pure caretakers of truth. They have little time for real debate with those who challenge their views.
And so their task when engaging with those who dissent is typically to summarily dismiss them as fools or as vermin. The close encounter with fists that one of Vice’s qualified supporters experienced, the steady string of insults directed at Vice et al, and the recommendation that Vice commit suicide, attest to this.
But there is something very odd about self-righteousness. Typically, self-righteous individuals are overcome with indignation when confronted with dissenting voices; that is, they are overcome with a passion that overwhelms the intellect in ways that often lead to violence of one sort or another, be it physical or merely verbal. Self-righteous individuals cannot accept anything that challenges their core views regarding their purity of spirit. So, when confronted with a challenge, the self-righteous will typically attack rather than entertain the possibility of error.
To the extent that they put any actual arguments forward, they tend to be clichés that in no way advance our understandings: blacks are lazy and we whites are not. That is why we have and they don’t. Apartheid was bad, but we whites brought civilisation to Africa, so blacks should thank us. It has been almost 20 years since the end of apartheid, and look what has been achieved by blacks!
This means blacks are simply incompetent, either for cultural or for genetic reasons. The list of stock arguments can be expanded, but what is clear is that they can only persuade those who are in the throes of whitely passions. In fact, their function is less to persuade than to put a stop to conversation.
Criticism by such dissenters of the living historical legacy of whiteness in South Africa is typically followed by a “but”: but blacks are lazy, but we brought civilisation, but blacks are also conquerors, but, but, but. The function of these “buts” is furtively to change the subject of conversation.
Rather than focusing on the problems brought about by white domination — including the structural legacies of such domination — the focus shifts to the alleged problems of the “other”, the true sinners. Magically, the fact that “they” are sinners somehow makes “us” less so.
But why the need for passionate attack if one is convinced one is the caretaker of the indubitable? One only attacks, after all, when one feels threatened. But why should the self-righteous feel threatened by views such as Vice’s? If they were at heart so convinced of being the custodians of truth, they wouldn’t feel threatened and hence wouldn’t be compelled to attack.
Feeling threatened is something that flows from a sense of vulnerability. Self-righteous individuals are always trying to convince themselves that their views are beyond question, but the strength with which they fight opponents shows to what extent this struggle for conviction is founded on deep-seated fear that they may not be as pure as they would like to think. The truth can sometimes be intolerably painful, particularly if one is not brave and humble enough to deal with the basic fact of human imperfection.
Let me explore the issue of self-righteousness with an analogy. Consider for instance the self-righteous thoughts directed towards an ex-partner shortly after a relationship has irredeemably broken down. Typical thoughts will involve considerable anger and an attempt to vilify the ex-partner. These are thoughts that are aimed to protect those having them from the pain of separation — indeed, from the shame of separation. But they are typically not thoughts expressive of a concern properly to understand why the relationship ended.
Passion can often hijack our minds and blind us to the world. After a period of time has passed, emotional balance may be restored, passion will correspondingly wane, and the ex-lover will tend to see the ex-partner in a rather less dramatic light. The ex-lover will typically acknowledge his or her own contribution to the breakdown of the relationship and will be in a better position to move on.
Recognising their contribution flows from a humility that can only truly be found if one is brave and honest enough to recognise one’s own contribution to the death of love. That is, mental peace can only be regained if one acknowledges that one is not flawless. Honest and thoughtful humility in cases such as these is not a sign of weakness but quite the opposite. The ex-lover is in a position of weakness when he or she is busy demonising the ex-partner.
So the self-righteous passion that comes with the defensive urge to attack comes not from the explicit belief held by the self-righteous that their views are beyond question. Quite the opposite is the case. The attacks on Vice et al are a response to a gut feeling of vulnerability that is covered up by the protective armour of self-righteousness.
Self-righteousness is a form of obfuscation that has the effect of weakening those who are possessed by it, making them slaves of passions in order to protect themselves from what they fear. And what they fear is what their honest selves suspect may be the case, namely that their claims — those they angrily voice in the presence of a threat — are deeply mistaken.
Strength comes from a sincere acknowledgement that life is largely about muddling through darkness, always with limited personal resources at one’s disposal. And accepting that often one will be mistaken, even deeply so, is part of what makes us strong. Humility and honesty are not only compatible with strength; strength actually demands them.
Pedro Alexis Tabensky is an associate professor in philosophy at Rhodes University. He is the editor of this series and is the author of several book and articles. His most recent book is the edited collection The Positive Function of Evil.
Academic Samantha Vice has caused a storm of controversy with her thoughts on white shame in South Africa. Read the reactions on our special report.
