In South Africa the 21st March is Human Rights Day - a day on which we recall the police shooting down 69 people protesting against the pass laws outside a police station in Sharpeville 54 years ago. This was a history of violence and repression which we thought to put behind us in 1994. Nelson Mandela's Inaugural Speech was the clearest articulation of this hope:
We understand it still that there is no easy road to freedom.
We know it well that none of us acting alone can achieve success.
We must therefore act together as a united people, for national reconciliation, for nation building, for the birth of a new world.
Let there be justice for all.
Let there be peace for all.
Let there be work, bread, water and salt for all.
Let each know that for each the body, the mind and the soul have been freed to fulfill themselves.
Never, never and never again shall it be that this beautiful land will again experience the oppression of one by another ...
Let freedom reign.
The sun shall never set on so glorious a human achievement!
But there were other voices from that time which many chose not to hear. Writing in 1993 Rustum Kozain provided a prescient warning that even before the democratic transition was effected there were those already seeking to appropriate the fruits of popular struggle.
The radicals drive limousines,
are driven in them, and host dinners
to court capital, promising restitution.
But we’ve seen the shark-skin suit
and the flashing smile, as we become
more and yet more, still, a people
of squatters, building zinc
and cardboard hopes over the words
that scratch at our reformed lives:
heroes bought by your country’s dollars,
by gold and dum-dum; heroes leaving
our shacks to rickety revolutions.
Twenty years on our sun has dropped perilously low in the sky. Marikana has dragged it down. More shocking than Sharpeville it requires us to confront the persistence of extreme brutality and desperation in our society. The events at Marikana have an almost surreal quality evocative of civil war. The days preceding the police shootings on 16th August 2012 are also steeped in violence. Officials of the National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) reportedly opened fire on a group of workers marching on their offices seriously wounding two. Other miners are shot and killed by police and mine security. Striking miners hack policemen and mine security officials to death and burn their vehicles. Photographs of mutilated bodies circulate via cell phone. An alleged police informer is killed and his body left on the mountain. Events spiral towards the shooting of 34 people and the wounding of a further 78 on the day of the massacre. Evidence led at the Marikana Commission suggests that some of those killed on this day had been shot by police execution style. Subsequent to the massacre the deaths continue. Two witnesses due to appear before the Marikana Commission are reported to have committed suicide. An NUM official is gunned down by unknown assailants. Marikana has become one of the most potent indicators of the contemporary social and political unravelling which has accelerated in South Africa. It provides a window into the violent contestations within the labour movement and the continuity of migrant labour. It speaks to the particular post apartheid fusion of power and economic interests which bind old and new elites. It reveals how far we remain from realising peace, justice, work and adequate services for all.
How do we understand these events? What do they reveal about what has gone so wrong in our society? Perhaps some of the most insightful answers are provided by Njabulo Ndebele in his thoughtful and moving reflection entitled Love and Politics: Sister Quinlan and the future we have desired which examined how to make sense of the stoning and mutilation of a catholic nun in Duncan Village more than sixty years ago. This was written three months after Marikana and although he does not allude to it directly he observes that "today the image of our humanity at its worst moments surrounds us" connecting our past and our present. Ndebele observes how in 1994 we were presented with the opportunity to release ourselves from the structural and personal violence of the past and to create our future which we have largely failed to do.
Ndebele asks difficult questions which we must answer twenty years on:
What has happened to people who spent many years in prison, in exile, ambushed, tortured, killed, and who made us dream of a new future, only to abandon the vision they suffered for because they are now in power only to make money and more money for themselves and in the process becoming more and more like those they accused of doing evil things to them, and now seem determined to look exactly like them? They want to pass the same kind of laws; shooting to kill in exactly the same way, wanting to stay in power for the sake of power in exactly the same way.
Ndebele clearly signposts the road which links Marikana to Nkandla and the bankrupt promises associated with the short term politics of patronage of those who now wear the 'sharkskin suits'. But Ndebele is careful not to lay all the responsibility with our political leaders. He warns that the narrow self interest of many ordinary citizens and public servants coupled with our quiescence at the transformation of state institutions as vehicles for personal gain risks precipitating "a national suicide that can dwarf anything that Nongqause brought upon us". Despite the gravity of what he describes and what we see with our eyes every single day Ndebele remains convinced that:
We understand it still that there is no easy road to freedom.
We know it well that none of us acting alone can achieve success.
We must therefore act together as a united people, for national reconciliation, for nation building, for the birth of a new world.
Let there be justice for all.
Let there be peace for all.
Let there be work, bread, water and salt for all.
Let each know that for each the body, the mind and the soul have been freed to fulfill themselves.
Never, never and never again shall it be that this beautiful land will again experience the oppression of one by another ...
Let freedom reign.
The sun shall never set on so glorious a human achievement!
Image: Jonathan Gill
But there were other voices from that time which many chose not to hear. Writing in 1993 Rustum Kozain provided a prescient warning that even before the democratic transition was effected there were those already seeking to appropriate the fruits of popular struggle.
are driven in them, and host dinners
to court capital, promising restitution.
But we’ve seen the shark-skin suit
and the flashing smile, as we become
more and yet more, still, a people
of squatters, building zinc
and cardboard hopes over the words
that scratch at our reformed lives:
heroes bought by your country’s dollars,
by gold and dum-dum; heroes leaving
our shacks to rickety revolutions.
Twenty years on our sun has dropped perilously low in the sky. Marikana has dragged it down. More shocking than Sharpeville it requires us to confront the persistence of extreme brutality and desperation in our society. The events at Marikana have an almost surreal quality evocative of civil war. The days preceding the police shootings on 16th August 2012 are also steeped in violence. Officials of the National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) reportedly opened fire on a group of workers marching on their offices seriously wounding two. Other miners are shot and killed by police and mine security. Striking miners hack policemen and mine security officials to death and burn their vehicles. Photographs of mutilated bodies circulate via cell phone. An alleged police informer is killed and his body left on the mountain. Events spiral towards the shooting of 34 people and the wounding of a further 78 on the day of the massacre. Evidence led at the Marikana Commission suggests that some of those killed on this day had been shot by police execution style. Subsequent to the massacre the deaths continue. Two witnesses due to appear before the Marikana Commission are reported to have committed suicide. An NUM official is gunned down by unknown assailants. Marikana has become one of the most potent indicators of the contemporary social and political unravelling which has accelerated in South Africa. It provides a window into the violent contestations within the labour movement and the continuity of migrant labour. It speaks to the particular post apartheid fusion of power and economic interests which bind old and new elites. It reveals how far we remain from realising peace, justice, work and adequate services for all.
Image: Jared Rodriguez - TruthOut
How do we understand these events? What do they reveal about what has gone so wrong in our society? Perhaps some of the most insightful answers are provided by Njabulo Ndebele in his thoughtful and moving reflection entitled Love and Politics: Sister Quinlan and the future we have desired which examined how to make sense of the stoning and mutilation of a catholic nun in Duncan Village more than sixty years ago. This was written three months after Marikana and although he does not allude to it directly he observes that "today the image of our humanity at its worst moments surrounds us" connecting our past and our present. Ndebele observes how in 1994 we were presented with the opportunity to release ourselves from the structural and personal violence of the past and to create our future which we have largely failed to do.
Ndebele asks difficult questions which we must answer twenty years on:
What has happened to people who spent many years in prison, in exile, ambushed, tortured, killed, and who made us dream of a new future, only to abandon the vision they suffered for because they are now in power only to make money and more money for themselves and in the process becoming more and more like those they accused of doing evil things to them, and now seem determined to look exactly like them? They want to pass the same kind of laws; shooting to kill in exactly the same way, wanting to stay in power for the sake of power in exactly the same way.
Image: Ben Williams Photostream
Ndebele clearly signposts the road which links Marikana to Nkandla and the bankrupt promises associated with the short term politics of patronage of those who now wear the 'sharkskin suits'. But Ndebele is careful not to lay all the responsibility with our political leaders. He warns that the narrow self interest of many ordinary citizens and public servants coupled with our quiescence at the transformation of state institutions as vehicles for personal gain risks precipitating "a national suicide that can dwarf anything that Nongqause brought upon us". Despite the gravity of what he describes and what we see with our eyes every single day Ndebele remains convinced that:
" ...in our worst moments we remain human, and we have the potential to rise up again, as we must. We must get out of a cycle in which we strangle ourselves with our own hand. We must create a new cycle in which the good that we do, creates more good, thriving out of the good that we do.
Initiation of this new cycle requires our active refusal to accept corrupt claims to entitlement in whatever social, political and economic form they present themselves and an insistence on ethical leadership and service. In the deep shadow cast by contemporary events Chief Albert Luthuli's question back in 1958 has renewed relevance: "Is this vision of a democratic society in South Africa a realizable vision? Or is it merely a mirage?" Only our individual and collective actions will ensure that our democracy and constitution are defended.
HLONGWANE, S. 2013. Marikana Commission: The death toll mounts [Online]. South Africa: Daily Maverick. Available: http://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2013-05-07-marikana-commission-the-death-toll-mounts/ [Accessed 20 March 2014 ].
MARINOVICH, G. 2014. Marikana Commission: The long game reveals itself [Online]. South Africa: Daily Maverick. Available: http://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2014-02-24-marikana-commission-the-long-game-reveals-itself/#.Uy3Z6vmSySo [Accessed 20 March 2014 ].
NDEBELE, N. 2012. Love and Politics: Sister Quinlan and the future we have desired [Online]. Available: http://www.njabulondebele.co.za/blog/entry/love_and_politics_sister_quinlan_and_the_future_we_have_desired/ [Accessed 20 March 2014].
Initiation of this new cycle requires our active refusal to accept corrupt claims to entitlement in whatever social, political and economic form they present themselves and an insistence on ethical leadership and service. In the deep shadow cast by contemporary events Chief Albert Luthuli's question back in 1958 has renewed relevance: "Is this vision of a democratic society in South Africa a realizable vision? Or is it merely a mirage?" Only our individual and collective actions will ensure that our democracy and constitution are defended.
References
KOZAIN, R. 1993. February Moon: Cape Town. A Virtual anthology of South African Poetry [Online] Available: http://www.cope.co.za/Virtual/texts/kozain.htm [Accessed 21st March 2014]HLONGWANE, S. 2013. Marikana Commission: The death toll mounts [Online]. South Africa: Daily Maverick. Available: http://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2013-05-07-marikana-commission-the-death-toll-mounts/ [Accessed 20 March 2014 ].
MARINOVICH, G. 2014. Marikana Commission: The long game reveals itself [Online]. South Africa: Daily Maverick. Available: http://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2014-02-24-marikana-commission-the-long-game-reveals-itself/#.Uy3Z6vmSySo [Accessed 20 March 2014 ].
NDEBELE, N. 2012. Love and Politics: Sister Quinlan and the future we have desired [Online]. Available: http://www.njabulondebele.co.za/blog/entry/love_and_politics_sister_quinlan_and_the_future_we_have_desired/ [Accessed 20 March 2014].
