Opinion: Black consciousness lost in translation

Published Jul 25, 2011

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Simphiwe Sesanti

poet and journalist Antjie Krog gave the title Begging to Be Black to one of her recent publications.

The title of her book came to mind when a white journalism student recently asked me what I thought of ANC Youth League president Julius Malema’s insistence on singing the song Dubul’ iBhunu. The question caught me unawares and threw me off balance.

The room went silent. At that time, I could easily have dismissed Malema, as many others do, as a mere attention-seeker and demagogue who thrives on using the race card.

It occurred to me that as a black lecturer teaching a predominantly white classroom I had an opportunity to give young whites an understanding of what it means to be black and young, and to share with young white people the fears and anxieties of young black people.

I narrated to them an experience I had at the hands of a senior white academic who had done a demolition job of my academic initiative seeking to articulate the meaning of Africanness from an Afrocentric perspective.

I told them that on that day, I went to my very supportive white boss, and told her that when my detractor sought to derail me, I felt intense hatred in me rising for white people. That is because at that time, the white academic was nullifying my articulation of African culture – of which he had no experience.

The experience reopened old wounds inflicted by the apartheid system. He was nullifying my identity, a very powerful act that was carried out by colonialists. The point I was making to the students was that when, 17 years after the first democratic elections, black people express a feeling of hatred towards white people, I understand, even though I do not encourage such.

That is because in this country, some (not all) white people continue to treat black people with contempt. So, on that basis, Malema’s song has an appeal to some black people.

However, the term iBhunu needs to be put in perspective. The term was both literal and symbolic, synonymously. iBhunu referred to whites as whites and as a symbol of oppression.

It is for this reason that after liberation, those comrades who were seen to have ditched the masses in pursuit of self-aggrandisement, were seen as amaBhunu, to an extent that in some protest marches black people sing “ amaBhul’ amnyama asenz’ iworry” (black Boers cause us misery).

I do not remember Malema making this point. Had he done so, whites who fear that the term indiscriminately refers to whites would have understood that it also refers to those blacks who are corrupt and now symbolise oppression and the oppressors.

Those of us who are black and have access to public platforms have a responsibility to explain these things to our white colleagues and compatriots. This will achieve two things. Firstly, our white compatriots would understand how black people feel, and if interested, co-operate with their fellow black compatriots to reach amicable solutions.

The second achievement: our angry young black people would see that black academics, commentators and analysts understand where their anger and vulgarity comes from.

In that way they may feel more comfortable in talking to us. Right now, they are very dismissive of us because they see us as articulating our erstwhile masters’ voices. It is with this sense of black consciousness that I approached a number of Malema’s recent utterances.

When Malema, in the early days of June this year, heaped praise on former ANC president Thabo Mbeki as the best leader the ANC has ever produced, many among us heaped scorn on him, seeing his move as nothing more than political opportunism.

Rightly so because until the day of his Damascus-turn pronunciation, Malema had deliberately omitted Mbeki’s name in rallies where he chanted the names of democratic South Africa’s presidents.

In this case, our duty is to teach our youths that they should not allow their personal dislike of others to prejudice them.

Similarly, they should not turn a blind eye to the misdemeanours of those whom they like, and criticise the same when they have been ditched by their darlings or vice versa.

A typical case: when Malema was cosy with Zuma, he refused, as an “African child”, to comment on the extramarital child Zuma had fathered with Sonono Khoza.

When things went sour, all of a sudden Malema and his youth league embarked on a one-man-one-woman campaign, taking on Zuma’s polygamous lifestyle.

Such is the politics of convenience, not principle.

We should teach our youth that African culture teaches that respect is accorded not only to those who hold similar views to you, but also to those you have disagreements with.

While we may be right in pointing out that Malema’s acknowledgment of Mbeki is convenient, we should applaud his courage to do something that must have been difficult for him to do, and urge the African child not to do things in a whimsical manner in future.

Malema also needs our applause for his public, even if belated, gesture of apologising to the woman who laid a charge of rape against President Jacob Zuma.

It must have been very difficult for that African child to acknowledge that he had dealt with Zuma’s accuser in a disrespectful way.

That he stood up and openly apologised is an indication that Malema appreciates the difference between “growing old” and “growing up”.

In supporting his quest to grow up, we should urge Malema to also apologise to the DA’s Lindiwe Mazibuko for calling her a “tea-girl” with whom he would not hold a political discussion.

That he said he would rather speak to the “Madam” (DA leader Helen Zille) portrays Malema as having a low opinion of domestic workers in general, and of being disrespectful to a fellow African woman, Mazibuko, in particular.

These disrespectful acts on Malema’s part are a clear indication that he has failed to appreciate that African culture emphasises that women must always be respected.

This is because our ancestors appreciated that women bear a great burden of carrying children for nine months and on top of that, have a far greater responsibility than men in looking after them. Long before Africans encountered the West’s feminist movement, Africans recognised the centrality of women.

I cannot think of a better way of demonstrating this appreciation of women than referring to Chikwunyere Kamalu’s Foundations of African Thought, in which he shares a saying by the Ohaffia of Nigeria: “A father’s penis scatters, a mother’s womb gathers.” This observation is not just literal. Our ancestors gave it a philosophical angle.

They experienced that while generally men brought destruction to life through wars, among other things, women found themselves having to clean up the mess of the time.

This continues to be the case, and will be so for as long as women allow themselves to be in the periphery in politics.

Sadly, it appears as if Malema’s youth league has still to appreciate the importance of women empowerment. Of the top five elected to the youth body’s structure, there is only one woman, Kenetswe Mosenogi, holding the position of deputy secretary-general.

This is a relegation considering that in the preceding executive committee, the post of general secretary was held by a woman, Vuyiswa Tulelo.

Ironic, considering that just prior to the youth league’s recent conference, in an interview with a South African weekly, Tulelo criticised the ANC Women’s League president Angie Motshekga for being invisible on gender issues. But the youth league is not doing any better.

Black academics, analysts and commentators should take the initiative of commending our youths when they are doing something right, and not only condemn when they are going astray.

They need us, and we need them.

l Sesanti, a lecturer at Stellenbosch University’s Department of Journalism, writes in his personal capacity.

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