Graphic: John McCann
“Whenever a child says, ‘I don’t believe in fairies’ there’s a little fairy somewhere that falls right down dead.” That’s what Peter Pan tells Wendy in JM Barrie’s classic novel Peter Pan – the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up. When Tinker Bell is weak and dying, Wendy has to say she believes in fairies so that she can live.
Right now, I wish I could be like Wendy and believe in the “fairy” of the new South Africa.
Every time I have to treat a traffic intersection like a four-way stop, because the traffic lights are broken, my belief in the dream of a South Africa able to overcome its apartheid and colonial legacy dies a little. Every time I have to swerve into the opposite side of the road or onto the pedestrian pavement so as to avoid a pothole or unfinished work done on the road by the local municipality, my belief in the dream of a South Africa able to overcome its apartheid and colonial legacy dies a little.
Every time I see water gushing down the street and no one attending to it, my belief in the dream of a South Africa able to overcome its apartheid and colonial legacy dies a little.
Every time I see the police at a traffic roadblock, usually a block or two away from the broken traffic lights, ostensibly checking driver’s licences and vehicle registrations, but instead shaking down foreigners or those with traffic violations for “cooldrink money”, my belief in the dream of a South Africa able to overcome its apartheid and colonial legacy dies a little.
Every time the electricity goes off, my belief in the dream of a South Africa able to overcome its apartheid and colonial legacy dies a little. Every time the taps run dry, my belief in the dream of a South Africa able to overcome its apartheid and colonial legacy dies a little.
I wish I could be like Wendy, and merely by saying that I believe in the new South Africa, we could pull back from the dying of the light. But my belief wavers, it crushes my soul because, at the core of my identity, is not only being a South African, but a South African who believes in the ideals of unity, equality, justice and, dare I say it, success. But it becomes virtually impossible to look at the values of our Constitution and believe that it resonates in South African society.
I believe this is why, as much as the overwhelming majority of South Africans are disturbed by US President Donald Trump and his minions in the Republican Party who are passing legislation that seeks to punish the country based on lies and a clearly racist imagination, we will not stand up and fight it.
Our leaders might try to rally us to show our anger at the US but they would be surprised by how few of us, even though we agree with them and reject Trump’s fanciful notions of genocide and persecution of white Afrikaner farmers, will not exhibit genuine anger. Our lives and the struggle for survival, while not believing in state institutions or elected leaders, are far bigger problems than the sideshow of Trump and his bullying of South Africa.
It is too difficult to believe in the big ideas, when the simple and basic things are not being done. The promise of democracy, with its emphasis on equality and justice for all, has been withering away, particularly since the end of the Cold War in 1990. This is not just true for South Africa, but most of the rest of the world as well.
In the developed West, where their traffic lights and hospitals work, they also do not seem to have much confidence in their very own state institutions. Hence, we witness the rise of people like Trump in the US, Nigel Farage in the UK, Italy’s Giorgia Meloni and various other right-wing ultra-nationalist leaders in liberal and social democracies. Take some time to listen to these leaders and you will hear how they openly parrot white and Christian grievances.
In another era, we would have referred to them as social Darwinists, to whom the law of the jungle reigns supreme, might is right and it is the survival of the fittest. Because this is what they put forward. They believe that they are not allowed to be Christian and white or European.
Here in South Africa, sections of the Afrikaner and English-speaking white population have similarly expressed that their culture feels overwhelmed by political correctness and “wokeism”. So, just as Farage feels that he must be allowed to celebrate the greatness of Winston Churchill without being reminded of Churchill’s racism and the massacres he inflicted on the Indian sub-continent, so too must we accept that Democratic Alliance federal chair Helen Zille must be allowed to celebrate colonialism without being reminded of the horrors that was committed in its name.
Or Kallie Kriel, head of AfriForum, and co must be allowed to celebrate, not only boer generals, but also apartheid and its leaders, on the basis that it is a part of Afrikaner culture and heritage.
There is a serious dissonance between what is regarded as important by the people and what is actually being done. It allows many on all sides of the political spectrum to, not just exploit it, but to weaponise the wrongs being committed. Take systemic racism, for instance. It has been used by those fighting against it, as well as those who act as if it does not exist.
In the US Open tennis tournament, African American Taylor Townsend was subjected to obvious racist abuse by her losing opponent Jelena Ostapenko. She told Townsend that she was uneducated and had no class. In the press conference later, which Townsend handled with poise and intelligence, you could observe that she was very careful not to call out Ostapenko for being racist.
This is the era we have entered, where obvious wrongs cannot be condemned just in case we are accused of attacking the perpetrator. Historical victims have to tread lightly, while the beneficiaries of the centuries of colonial oppression set the parameters of the recovery plan and retain their privilege and power.
The result is that, all over the world, various groups are retreating into their nationalist or group laagers. The dream of a peaceful, united, equal and just world, which many thought possible after the defeat of Hitler and his white supremacist beliefs, is no more. The reality of black suffering is being forgotten; it is regarded as just another example of people suffering. Nothing unique and requiring no special attention.
Everyone is a victim, which means that no one is one.
Donovan E Williams is a social commentator. @TheSherpaZA on X.