The spectre of a third world war, mentioned in my last City Press article, is no longer dystopian fiction – it is our present reality.
This is particularly so following the US-Israel war on Iran, killing its president and leaving more than 150 innocent children dead and multitudes of other civilians in Iran and Lebanon dead, injured or displaced, and bringing the globe to the brink of another world war.
As the Middle East burns and global powers realign, we South Africans seem safe sitting thousands of miles away.
But as ubuntu reminds us about the interconnectedness of humanity, war anywhere is anathema to peace and stability everywhere. Furthermore, in the borderless world that globalisation has yielded, where proxy battles blur into cyber warfare, economic coercion and trade route blockages as seen in the Hormuz Strait, distance offers no sanctuary.
Vulnerability of a divided nation
In my last City Press article, I opined that the best defence readiness of any nation is the unity of its people, undergirded by a shared story of who they are and seek to become.
The biblical wisdom that says “if a house be divided against itself, that house cannot stand”, echoes across millennia.
A house divided may not even need an enemy to destroy it; it will simply collapse under its own weight.
Equally true is the power of unity, as we have seen in Canada’s unity against economic bullying by President Donald Trump and his administration.
However, the fact that the shadow of our ugly past remains a barrier to national unity is a truth we cannot escape.
How the divisions express themselves today, though, differs from how they did 50 years ago, when young black people rose up. In fact, children took to the streets to protest white domination and state efforts at stunting their human potential through Bantu education.
Often missed is the fact that as black children marched for freedom, white children – many younger than 21 – were carrying guns, drafted into a conscription army to defend a system they were told was safeguarding their birthright, to live better than black people and to be served by the latter. Fifty years on, those children are adults in their sixties and seventies.
What stories did each side tell their children about the past? What do each of these two sides of the past society tell its children and grandchildren about the justice of what happened and its continuing shadow today?
Reconciling white fear and black hopes
What is clear is that the past was defined by white fears of losing privilege and black hopes of losing chains.
Today, the chasm between hopes and fears remains. Young black South Africans carry dreams as fierce as those of 1976 – of startups, of stable jobs, of dignity. Yet nearly 9 million of mostly black, young people are not in employment, education, or training.
Despite data evidence showing the contrary, many white young people believe they are worse off than their black counterparts regarding access to employment and wealth.
Is it true that all that is needed for racial equality is fixing education and growing the economy, as neoliberal economists proclaim? If it were so easy, wouldn’t white women be equally represented in all spheres of the economy and social life, as they have the same education, often excelling more than their male counterparts? Aren't they also part of the ecosystem that benefited from racialised economic deprivation?
This clearly is a myth. But a myth built next to truth is dangerous in that it is taken for granted without examining its rationality.
Wisdom from young voices
In my previous article, I mentioned how as the Centre for Social Justice team, we stumbled on the potency of listening before dialogue, particularly listening to young people.
What seems to be emerging since that listening in, which was followed by an interface with our Danish academic colleagues with whom we are collaborating on The Joint People’s meet referred to as a Folkemødet, is that beneath the surface differences, there is a yearning for the same things: safety, dignity, freedom, opportunity and belonging.
READ: Thuli Madonsela | We need a South African story that includes us all
But we must acknowledge that the changes that need to happen for each social group to enjoy these require a social justice lens, at the core of which is fairness to all by meeting all where they are.
For example, from the original group that sparked the listening in exercise, the youngest professional, in his early twenties, made it clear that without meeting Maslow’s basic human needs, such as access to food and shelter, asking young people to find economic liberation through entrepreneurship is a bridge too far.
For this purpose, he supported a basic income grant, criticising those who argue it inspires laziness, saying if it were so, all rich children would be lazy as they all start life with a starter pack that includes guaranteed income, a car, home and job in the family business or parents’ network.
He also decried the exaltation of foreign professionals as better performers, stating this ignores that people who immigrate are outliers, just as there are outliers in the country.
The other young person, in her thirties, decried the Cinderella experience of being brought into spaces historically reserved for certain groups, yet suffering microaggressions that implicitly say “you don’t belong here”, daily resulting in a revolving door syndrome.
Another young person pointed out the need to factor in class in a social justice-anchored intersectionality lens to consider that not every white person is riding the enduring legacy of the past, rigged monopoly game.
READ: Thuli Madonsela | Make sure all are on board before deciding policy
Opportunity for shared hope
Is shared hope in diversity complicated by an ugly past that continues to poison the present?
Europe is an example of unity and shared purpose forged on the ashes of a divided past that included two world wars.
China too comprises ethnic groups, languages and cultural traditions, and yet it has emerged as a relatively united nation and globally competitive economy.
All voices will have to count, though, and compromises made.
President Cyril Ramaphosa recently reminded the national dialogue steering committee that their work must be guided by four principles: inclusivity, citizen ownership, effective coordination and a focus on national healing.
“We must speak with courage and listen with humility,” he said.
These are not platitudes; they are survival strategies for a nation on the brink.
Transcending illusions of stability
It was within a week of Oxford College Master and global human rights advocate Baroness Valerie Amos’ seminal social justice lecture, titled Illusion of Stability: Delivering Social Justice in a Period of Polarisation and Global Instability, that the US-Irael strikes on Iran occurred.
Amos had warned about a world mistaking order maintained through force and subjugation for peace.
She had called for better adherence to and progress on social justice, through respecting the dignity and equal worth of all as the guarantor of true and lasting peace and stability.
Such social justice, she argued, included no nation being above the law and jettisoning the might is right culture in international relations.
At the same lecture, Stellenbosch vice-chancellor Deresh Ramjugernath emphasised the importance of ensuring belonging as the glue needed for social cohesion and prevailing against odds.
There is no gainsaying that to stand the headwinds in the global ecosystem, exacerbated by the Iran war, South Africa cannot afford to be a divided house.
Is that possible without listening to all and striking compromises that will ensure a shared national purpose undergirded by common belonging, dignity and equitable sharing in what the country has to offer and gain?
- Madonsela is the director of the Centre for Social Justice and law faculty trust chair at Stellenbosch University and founder of the Thuma Foundation.
