The tortuous road to Mangaung ends next week. And, not to put too fine a point on it, much of the country is gatvol with the route it has taken and where it has arrived.
Potholed with corruption, meandering in no fixed direction to the profit of cronies, and riddled with damaging scandal, it should long ago have been resurfaced, rebuilt and given a clear destination. But it has remained in place as a national project and, in the process, has pushed into the background the ongoing – and often more subtle – unethical dealings outside of government circles.
In recent years and despite occasional grumbles, Cosatu has continued to stumble along that road, praising its supposed promise. The federation was committed to it, especially after declaring, at its congress in 2006, that a “Zuma tsunami” would cure the ills on the road ahead. In the event, this proved even more destructive.
Arguably, this road began nearly 17 years ago with the introduction of the government’s Growth, Employment and Redistribution macroeconomic framework.
Now it will end, most likely with a deviation onto the “National Development Plan” highway designed last year on the 2010 New Growth Path with its promises to end poverty and unemployment.
In the midst of past broken promises, Cosatu and the other labour federations have remained supportive of the government’s plans. Some Cosatu affiliates have gone further, producing often jargon-ridden statements that slavishly support the political powers that be.
Sadly, for journalists, one such is the Communication Workers’ Union, which has journalist members. Another is the tiny Creative Workers’ Union. Both this week supported the ban by the SABC of a programme involving three journalists who were scheduled to discuss Mangaung because “the ANC was not present”.
But not all trade unionists and unions share this perspective, far from it.
As Media Workers Association of SA general secretary Tuwani Gumani commented this week: “The situation is toxic… [it is] a censorship machine designed [to promote] the interests of the incumbent ruling party.”
These are all signs of where the road to Mangaung has led and, throughout the 17-year journey, this column has reported on that road, noting the actions of the courageous and the craven, the few – if any – saints and the many sinners who walked it, along with tales of occasional highlights, victories and sad defeats.
This has been a journey where the blemishes along the road have only partially been obscured by desperate sycophants and cynically self-serving individuals. A review of that road, and of those who, from a labour perspective, have travelled or been dragged along it, was launched last night in Cape Town with the book, Right to Fight.
It is a selection of my columns covering those years, accompanied by appropriate cartoons by Jonathan “Zapiro” Shapiro. The book is in the tradition of this column: attempting to stimulate debate, encourage critical analysis and provide glimpses of the ideas, foibles and fancies that exist within the labour movement.
Zapiro’s front cover cartoon sums up the primary concern of most working people: the absence of decent work for decent pay. And the introductory cartoon, although referring to South Africa, sums up a global situation where surplus capacity and surplus production has led to the destruction of jobs and a race to the bottom for working people, pitted in competition with one another by their bosses and governments.
Looking back over those 17 years, it is difficult not to be concerned, angry and deeply saddened. Because, for all the occasional highlights and victories for labour, and all the brave words trotted out by trade union and federation leaders, the fact is that the labour movement is today almost certainly in a weaker position than in 1995.
Yet a healthy, vibrant trade union movement is a bulwark against autocracy, an expression, in a limited way on the shopfloor, of peoples’ power; of unity in diversity. This is an image of the labour movement to which trade unionists, high and low, pay at least lip service.
As well they should, because the labour movement comprises the organised ranks of the sellers of labour, a potentially powerful force whose members share a fundamental interest in ensuring a better life for all. But this simple and fair demand, especially in a world of plenty, brings labour into inevitable conflict with those who benefit from a system based on competition, profit and individual wealth.
As a result – and as this column has pointed out over the years – this makes the labour movement a target for governments, bosses and various sectarian groups that wish to manipulate or control individual unions and federations.
Corrupted, unions can become praise singers for political factions, turning their backs on the principles of democracy.
The political sangomas are usually responsible, handing out patronage and promising pie in the sky if only they are put, or kept, in charge. A lack of confidence among the ranks of working people is what these charlatans capitalise on.
But recent events, not least those at Marikana and in the Boland, may have provided a wake-up call for the unions. They may realise, as a leading lawyer said in an SMS to me last week, that “we are on a slippery downward slope”.
He was referring to reported official corruption, the arrogance of ministerial spendthrifts and the apparent approval of the so-called secrecy bill along with revelations from the Marikana commission.
Some individual union leaders and many members appear to agree with this concern, but seem uncertain what to do since there is no clear alternative on the political horizon.
However, this week, Cosatu general secretary Zwelinzima Vavi took on the mantle of chair of the National Anti-Corruption Forum, pledging a virtual crusade.
So perhaps a road will be built beyond Mangaung that could provide a way toward a better future. It will not be easy, but it can be done. And with that thought I wish you all a peaceful festive season.