Quotes of the Day
Sunday, Apr. 17, 2005
Justice has never been color-blind in South Africa. In the days of apartheid, when the country's constitution enshrined discrimination against the African majority, judges were obliged to see the world in black and white. These days, South Africa boasts one of the most liberal constitutions anywhere and officially embraces the ideal of a "nonracial" society. But according to Judge President John Hlophe of the Cape High Court, racism persists, no longer written into the country's laws or ledgers, but incised in the hearts and minds of the judiciary itself. Hlophe complained last year that he and other black judges had experienced racism by white colleagues on "numerous" occasions, verbal attacks designed deliberately "to undermine the intellect and talent of black judges."
White members of the Cape bar protest their innocence, saying they have backed the transformation of the judiciary. And a report commissioned by the General Council of the Bar last year cleared them of responsibility for a false slur — that Hlophe had written a judgment for fellow black judge James Yekiso because Yekiso was incapable of writing it himself. But the race row rages on. In February, in an attempt to end the squabbling, South Africa's outgoing Chief Justice Arthur Chaskalson announced that every high court jurisdiction in the country would be part of an internal inquiry into racism and sexism. The judiciary's independence is a vital component of the constitution, Chaskalson said. For the public to have confidence in the judiciary, it was time to have "frank discussions" about issues like racism.
Perhaps it's time all South Africans joined that debate. More than a decade since the formation of the Rainbow Nation, South Africa's bands of color remain distinct, their edges sharply delineated. Race is still a dominant political issue — with the power to divide society and, some argue, even destabilize it. True, much has changed. South Africans no longer live in fear of a race war, and blacks and whites now work together, live in the same neighborhoods, shop at the same supermarkets, and even occasionally marry. The constitution says all citizens must be treated equally. Symbols of the past, including the apartheid-era National Party, which last week announced that it will disband itself, are disappearing. And South Africa is not unique in struggling to overcome long-standing divisions; Europe and the U.S. face similar issues. But even as South Africa has become more open and free, many of the walls within remain. Until they are broken down, the Rainbow Nation will remain more myth than reality.
Public discussions over everything from the government's aids policy to the selection of the national cricket team regularly descend into racial squabbles. Even affirmative action policies, designed to address past injustices and undo the old divisions, reinforce racial differences in new ways. "Our separation is still there. It's very deeply entrenched and embedded into the minds of the people in this country," says Reverend Basil Manning, CEO of
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Lack of contact between South Africa's blacks, whites, mixed-race coloreds and Indians — a chasm that shrank after the first free elections in 1994, but which may now be growing again — reinforces that separation. According to a study released in November last year by the Cape Town-based Institute for Justice and Reconciliation (IJR), 36% of South Africans have no cross-racial contact in their daily interactions, up from 26% in April 2003. An even greater percentage of people, 56%, have no cross-racial contact when they socialize.
These trends manifest themselves in decisions about where to live. As blacks move into old white suburbs, many whites have migrated to the fringes of the country's cities, where they live in gated communities that keep the new South Africa — and, they say, crime — at bay. Little wonder then that 6 out of 10 South Africans say they still find it difficult to understand the customs and ways of other races, while 4 out of 10 don't trust fellow citizens of different races. "An inability to understand the 'other' continues to loom large," says Karin Lombard, project coordinator for the study dubbed the South African Reconciliation Barometer. "Breaking these barriers down takes time."
There are still extremists — white radicals who dream of an independent nation, and black activists who ponder kicking the whites out altogether — but they are now fringe dwellers. The real trouble lies within mainstream South Africa as it struggles to erase three centuries of prejudice and legal and social divisions. "The majority of whites who supported apartheid are in denial about their history and consider the subject beyond scrutiny," says author Heidi Holland, who is writing a book about an infamous racist murderer. "Many of them have psychologically emigrated from the country, burying themselves in their suburbs and cluster homes where they are not being challenged to realize that there are other ways of doing things."
The ijr study found that 32% of South Africans still do not approve of their child sitting next to a kid from a different race in the classroom, and although just over half of those surveyed approve of living in a neighborhood in which half their neighbors are from a different racial group, 51% would not approve of a close relative marrying a person of another race. White people are particularly wary of interracial marriage; just 16% say they would approve of a close relative taking the plunge with a black, Indian or colored person. "A lot of people have deluded themselves that because we've taken the hard edges of apartheid legislation away, we're suddenly living in a nonracial society," says Manning. "We need to start accepting that racism exists in almost every sphere. Only then can we move on."
Reminders of the difficulties of moving on can crop up with metronomic regularity. Last December, the South African National Blood Service (SANBS) admitted that it regularly disposes of blood donated by black South Africans because of the possible risk of hiv contamination. The service had even incinerated a 2001 donation by President Thabo Mbeki because he had failed to fill out a form detailing illness, body weight and sexual activity. The outcry filled radio talk shows and newspaper front pages, despite the sanbs' explanation that it needs to dispose of high-risk blood because there is a short period when the aids virus can be present in blood but not detectable. Racial profiling, the SANBS said, is just one factor it uses to categorize high-risk donations. But that isn't good enough for many South Africans. "It smacks of racism," said Health Minister Manto Tshabalala-Msimang.
The government itself landed in the hot seat with plans to build a $35 million multiracial housing development across two scrubby hills on the northern edge of greater Johannesburg. Cosmo City, as the new suburb is to be known, will boast some 12,500 new houses, schools, libraries, sports grounds, shopping centers, an industrial park and a public swimming pool. Most of the houses will go to low-income black families from a nearby squatter camp, but there will also be more expensive houses for sale which the local government hopes will attract buyers from all races. "Cosmo reflects our dream of what South Africa must look like," says Provincial Housing Minister Nomvula Mokonyane. "Cosmo is the future."
But it's a future not all South Africans accept. Local residents, most of whom are white, have fought the development for more than six years. They object, they say, not to black neighbors, but to the environmental damage the development will create, the increased traffic and the negative impact on property prices. They argue that the government should spend its money rebuilding nearby squatter camps so that people are not constantly moved as they were during the old apartheid regime. "The problem is not the people who would live in Cosmo, but all the problems such a huge development brings," says Wessel Swart, chairman of the Jukskei Crocodile Catchment Area Association, a local residents' group. "It's the wrong concept in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Residents of the nearby squatter camp disagree. "The people who object want white people living here," claims Noreen Mbanjwa, 41, a mother of four who lives in a tiny home overlooking the farming area destined for development. "They're against Africans." Swart says accusations of racism "are politically convenient. When you can't answer the real objections, you play the race card." But, counters Kelvin Mpofu, 31, who lives in the squatter camp, "They say they object on all these grounds, but the fact is they're white and we're black. What are we meant to think?" Housing Minister Mokonyane says that leaflets, anonymously distributed, warning that the "the dumping of 100,000 people who will bring crime, degradation, filth and squalor," are indeed racist. "As long as a small minority of vociferous and highly resourced people can successfully stall a project designed to help the majority, South Africa will never be a non-racial society," she says. Work on Cosmo City is now underway and building plots for around $37,000 are being snapped up quickly, report local estate agents.
Away from the big public debates, skin color and accent remain unspoken but ever present indicators of difference in daily life. Tito Mboweni, governor of the Reserve Bank, has taken to giving off-the-cuff speeches rather than reading them because, he says, he wants to disprove the view still held by many South Africans that blacks aren't smart enough to give a speech without the help of a white speechwriter. A leading black journalist still takes phone calls from people who insist on speaking with the boss. When he explains that he is the boss, callers become flustered.
And while affirmative-action policies are beginning to redress some of the past injustices, they can also cause new distortions — adding to the sense of polarization. The government's program of Black Economic Empowerment is under fire because the same few black magnates keep winning all the big deals — much as a few whites prospered under the old apartheid regime. "Forty years of affirmative-action policies didn't help [the majority of white] Afrikaaners at all," says Richard Tren, a board member of the Free Market Foundation, a think tank. "Now the new government is doing the same for blacks. We need to see beyond race to a point where economic growth and jobs are good things by themselves." White South Africans and foreign investors still control more than 90% of the country's listed companies — despite the fact that whites make up only 10% of the country's population — but white professionals who find themselves shut out of positions earmarked for "previously disadvantaged individuals" view themselves as disadvantaged.
That is an attitude that elicits no sympathy among blacks, Indians and coloreds, who are frustrated at the continuing inequities. Reverend Manning relates how a black participant at a workshop run by his organization turned to her white colleagues and asked: "'Please help us with these fears of yours, because we don't understand them. When Mandela got out of prison you thought he was going to kill you all. When he did not, you thought a black government would create chaos. When everything was fine, you thought that when Mandela retired the end would come. We don't understand why you can't see that things are working in this country.'"
South Africa's opposition and some civil-society leaders say that President Thabo Mbeki reinforces a sense of division because he cries racism whenever his government's policies are questioned. "Debates that should be out in the public now take place behind closed doors in boardrooms or in shebeens [bars]," says Frans Cronje, a researcher with the South African Institute of Race Relations.
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Allegations of racism can actually deepen divisions, says Norman Arendse, chairman of the General Council of the Bar of South Africa. Arendse says it would be naive to think that racial divisions have disappeared 10 years after the end of apartheid, but believes that the recent race row in the Cape High Court has hurt progress toward a nonracial bar. "It's a very awkward situation, and I really feel that some of the white judges — some of whom I know and respect, and who have certainly indicated to me that they are wholly supportive of [racial] transformation — I think they feel terribly undermined because they've now been tarred with this brush," says Arendse. "For a climate of suspicion and fear to exist within the judiciary, I think that in itself threatens democracy. At the end of the day, it's the judges who apply the constitution, who take the oath that they will dispense justice without fear or favor. If they live in a climate of fear of being labeled racist, how can they do their jobs properly?"
There are signs that point to a less fractious future. As the black middle class grows, work colleagues from different racial groups are finding they have more in common than they previously thought. Companies are beginning to offer cultural awareness workshops and use weekend conferences to encourage bonding between staff members. Even the affirmative-action policies that exclude white applicants from some jobs, while resented by some whites, are forcing them to be more entrepreneurial — which, in turn, makes them engage more with the world beyond their high fences.
White children are already finding themselves in contact with their peers from other communities, as South Africa's former all-white schools integrate more quickly than most other institutions. Things don't always go smoothly, though. Some white parents are unhappy with the change, pulling their kids out of mixed schools and placing them in whiter classrooms. A school yard fight between two Cape Town girls at Edgemead High School in 2003 erupted into a race row between opposing parents after Nosipho Mkhize, 16, a black student at the mainly white school, accused a white classmate, her 20-year-old boyfriend and the girl's mother of pulling her hair, kicking her, holding her down, defecating on her and telling her, "You black people must go back to your township school." Though Edgemead's principal, Malcolm Venter, insists that the fight was not racial to begin with, the alleged attackers later apologized to Mkhize and her family, agreed to undergo a court-ordered racial sensitization course, and donated $1,600 to a local charity.
But in most schools, race is much less important than it was even five years ago. "Obviously, they're aware of apartheid, but it's part of the history books now," says Shane Norris, project manager for the Birth to 20 project, which tracks the lives of 3,000 children from Johannesburg and Soweto who were born just after Nelson Mandela's release from prison in 1990. "They define their environment and identity less along racial lines."
Black comedian David Kau says his audiences are more mixed than ever, though the same jokes don't yet work with both blacks and whites. "Black crowds often love jokes about [white opposition leader] Tony Leon and his constant criticism of the President and the A.N.C.," says Kau. "But whites tend to be touchier about this. You're just making a joke, but one person can walk away from it thinking, 'That guy's racist,' and someone else can walk away thinking, 'He's funny!'"
If the punch lines don't do it, perhaps the punches will. Krish Naidoo, the general manager of Boxing South Africa and a proponent of nonracial sports for more than two decades, believes in the power of sport to unite South Africans. Universal euphoria greeted the announcement last year that South Africa had won the right to host the 2010 soccer World Cup. Yet tensions off the pitch have spilled onto it in the past couple of years, with both the national rugby and cricket teams racked by allegations of racial splits, including accusations — all denied — that a white rugby player refused to share a room with a black teammate and that a trio of senior cricketers shut out black players. "I think it has to do with the old notion of power," says Naidoo. "The establishment is often threatened by the move to a truly nonracial playing field. Fundamental transformation still hasn't happened yet." Until it does, South Africans will struggle to play as a team.
- SIMON ROBINSON
- How South Africans are still divided by race
Photo: GETTY IMAGES | Source: Ten years after the end of Apartheid, black and white South Africans are still learning to live together