Tradition we are bound to honour

President Jacob Zuma arrives at the old Assembly Chamber to deliver the annual address to the National House of Traditional Leaders. Mangosuthu Buthelezi says the ANC understands the value of traditional leaders; but not in terms of governance, only in terms of votes. File picure: Siyasanga Mbambani

President Jacob Zuma arrives at the old Assembly Chamber to deliver the annual address to the National House of Traditional Leaders. Mangosuthu Buthelezi says the ANC understands the value of traditional leaders; but not in terms of governance, only in terms of votes. File picure: Siyasanga Mbambani

Published May 12, 2015

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It is outrageous that traditional leaders should be disenfranchised in a democracy, writes Mangosuthu Buthulezi.

This week saw the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge announce the naming of Princess Charlotte Elizabeth Diana, fifth grand-daughter to Queen Elizabeth II. It was a poignant moment, for a portrait still hangs in my office in Ulundi of the Prince and Princess of Wales with the new-born Prince William. It was a gift, for HRH the Prince of Wales and I have shared a long friendship.

Regardless of how much time passes, the royal lineage in the United Kingdom remains strong, and the monarchy remains an integral part of British society. The UK is one of the world’s oldest constitutional democracies, yet no one suggests there is no place for the Queen and the House of Lords in a “modern” world. Though not elected, Queen Elizabeth II is still Head of State in the UK.

I was surprised then by comments from so-called political analysts in South Africa to the effect that the Zulu monarch and the institution of traditional leadership are anachronistic to a constitutional democracy. One of the most vocal proponents of this strange opinion was journalist Mondli Makhanya, who has dedicated a substantial part of his life to fighting and denigrating anything remotely related to me or the IFP.

His opinion that a centuries-old, established social system should be tossed out, was hitched to his accusation that His Majesty the King of the Zulu Nation caused the recent xenophobic attacks in various places in South Africa. Presumably, he feels a western social structure is supported by our constitution and is all that is needed to ensure good governance in one of the world’s newest constitutional democracies.

Makhanya seems to forget that the institution of traditional leadership is recognised and enshrined in the constitution. Indeed, when the imminent implementation of the Municipal Structures Act threatened to duplicate and diminish the role, powers and functions of traditional leaders, six years into democracy, a cabinet committee led by then deputy president Jacob Zuma recommended that Chapters 7 and 12 of the constitution be amended to fully protect traditional leadership.

It remains a blemish on the record of government that that recommendation was never implemented, leaving the door open to the incremental side-lining of traditional leaders and the institution of traditional leadership.

It was only in 2012, at the centennial celebrations of Africa’s oldest liberation movement, that Zuma openly divulged the ANC’s perspective on traditional leadership. In his address at Mangaung, he said: “An important achievement during (the 1980s) was the formation of Contralesa, which organised traditional leaders into the ANC, assisting the movement to make further inroads in rural areas.”

The ruling party understands the value of traditional leaders; but not in terms of governance, only in terms of votes. They have courted traditional leaders to secure electoral support. Yet at the same time legislation has progressively eroded the role, powers and functions of traditional leaders to the extent that today only a limited number of amakhosi may participate in meetings of municipal councils, but none of them may vote.

It is outrageous that traditional leaders should be disenfranchised in a democracy, particularly when they represent an age-old system of governance that ensures justice, security, social cohesion and productivity. Marrying traditional leadership with municipal administration is not only feasible, but eminently beneficial for effective governance.

The institution of traditional leadership still plays a pre-eminent role in South Africa’s communities. It is a reality that would best be beneficiated, rather than ignored, side-lined or abused.

South Africa’s struggle for freedom was born out of the older struggle of kings, warriors and amakhosi for the recognition of the Zulu kingdom. This was the struggle of my grandfather, King Dinuzulu, and my great- grandfather, King Cetshwayo, both of whom were jailed for trying to preserve the heritage we received from King Shaka ka Senzangakhona. King Cetshwayo even travelled to London to plead his case before Queen Victoria. Yet his kingdom was dismembered by British colonialists.

One would think that a long history like this would find resolution in a liberated South Africa where equality, cultural diversity and identity form cornerstones of freedom. Yet the struggle on behalf of the institution of traditional leadership continues, because it is viewed as a threat to hegemonic power.

There is a desire deeply ingrained in the fabric of the ruling party to control all facets of society. Thus, while much homage is paid to the value and role of traditional leaders in ensuring effective governance, they are in reality afforded little more than ceremonial status.

 

This is to the detriment of community development, social wellbeing and the building of self-reliance. No wonder our society is moving ever closer to entitlement, dependency and divisions.

This brings me back to Makhanya’s accusation that His Majesty the King caused divisions in our nation that sparked xenophobic attacks. Xenophobia has been present in our country for decades. Long before democracy, our immigration policy was designed to exclude and keep separate. It was only in 1994, when I became minister of home affairs, that we began to change that policy.

Under my leadership, we transformed the full body of policy and legislation that governs migration in an effort to open the door to beneficial movement of people, thereby stimulating investment, trade, skills transfer and business development. We were mindful of the need to close the door on undocumented migration, and we sought to do that, despite the reality of 7 000km of porous borders.

Much of what we attempted to achieve in that first decade of democracy was undermined by the fact that I was an IFP minister in a predominantly ANC cabinet. Everything I did was treated with suspicion and the subsequent years saw Home Affairs grappling with continual turn-around strategies and legislative changes in an effort to rework the foundation and create something different; something that no longer bore the mark of an IFP minister.

It is par for the course, after so many years of vilification and propaganda, to see anything related to the IFP or Buthelezi denigrated. Makhanya will naturally oppose my life’s work to strengthen our traditional social structure of ubukhosi, simply because he opposes me.

His objectivity is, unfortunately, marred by the violence of the 1980s and early 1990s, in which Inkatha became a target in the ANC’s people’s war. In that, he was not an observer, but a participant.

In his own writings, he speaks about being “a warrior” in Natal. “I was proud to be a part of it,” he wrote, “I must also admit that I enjoyed the excitement of battle: the sight of a sea of burning shacks and desperate men running for dear life.”

Upon witnessing an injured Inkatha man dragged out and set alight, Makhanya wrote: “To me he was not a human being – he was an enemy who deserved what he got.”

Tragically, the violent slogans of the past like “Kill Inkatha” and “Neutralise Gatsha” still ring in Makhanya’s ears, muddying his judgement.

Thus when he saw me and the King of the Zulu Nation standing together at an imbizo, calling for an end to xenophobic violence, he could not simply report the truth. His Majesty the King didn’t create xenophobia. He shone a light on something that thrives in the darkness of South Africa’s soul.

Now that it is in the light, healing can begin.

* Mangosuthu Buthelezi is a prince, an MP and the president of the IFP.

** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media.

Weekend Argus

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