Having AND eating cakes since 1977
 

Proudly South afriCAN- by Simon Reader Apparently, South Africans are an unhappy bunch, according to some recent survey conducted in Washington by sociological 'experts'. Anyone who calls themselves an 'expert' is clearly missing the definition of the term; 'ex' is an unknown quantity and 'spert' is a drip working under pressure. The Americans, for all their arrogance, have bought their own version of 'foot 'n mouth' to South Africa - firstly, they are about to start a very serious war, and, secondly, the land of contradictions compiling a survey in another county regarding satisfaction? Exactly. Don't do that. Why are we unhappy? Because we feel that the ANC is incompetent and corrupt? Because our sports teams are not doing as well as we think they should be? Because we have a growing suspicion that African Nationalism is the new apartheid? Bollocks. We are unhappy because we think it's okay to be unhappy. We think we have excuses like Black Empowerment and Affirmative Action, or sporting quotas or outspoken, useless politicians who would not be out of place in Verwoerd's cabinet. We think it's okay to be unhappy when our Reserve Bank Governor is smoking cigars and on the glamour pages of every society star-fucking publication. It's all right to have bad attitudes considering our neighbors in Robert Mugabe and Sam Nujoma, and we are given licenses to complain about the implication of our deputy President in the abortion that was and is the arms deal. There comes a point when we have to admit the following. No matter how much we try, how much effort we apply, there are things, systems, mechanisms and dynamics of our nature and future that can only continue 'within the hands of the Gods'. Fate, regardless of politics or powerful fat cats, will take it's course. One of the most irritating sounds in the world comes from a little bar in Fulham, London, on a Sunday night. If you creep up next to the window, you'll recognize voices, South African accents, talking to each other or maybe some Eastern European immigrant. You'll hear friendliness on both sides - perhaps even recognition. But the conversation that follows will be the same, if not worse, then that of a white beggar at any given intersection in Johannesburg. "These people are ruining the country," "Crime is on the up like never before," "Black administrators are killing sport and demanding impossible equations". All the same, lowly, complaining South Africans, discouraging people's interest by demonstrating an untrue and swollen portrait of what exactly is going on. It happens everywhere, yet South Africans in London are notorious for negativity and pessimism - I have no problem with a block of flats in Hackney being Afrikaans (Stellenbosch graduates who refuse to speak English - 105 of them, allegedly) but I do when they moan about 'their people' being framed or removed from the political spectrum. Bear in mind, these are the same people who sing Nkosi 'Sikelele Afrika in the tubes whenever the Springboks grace Twickenham or where jerseys and hats and scream so much so that you avoid them whilst you are on the tube. This is a type of 'cloak and dagger' game they are quite happy to play with patriotism - love your country for it's merits, but moan about it's administration. The lure of the pound and the universe of the euro - much better than the rand or the stinking biltong book. Unfortunately, there is also a problem with shallow patriotism. South Africa's biggest companies - banks, service providers, insurance firms and internet companies have entire armies of BMW-driving-golf-shirt-wearing salesmen or executives, who stand up at dinner parties or fund-raisers to say what should be, 'I am here to encourage you with confidence,' but turns into 'Me, Myself & I' or "Don't talk whilst I am interrupting'. These are the people who have everything for free, including lunches and golf shirts and who, most importantly, have positively fuck all idea about what is going on. It is trendy to believe in what you do, what you are and where we see us - but do you really, really live it? Last week saw Kaizer Chiefs and Jomo Cosmos battle it out at FNB Stadium for the final of the Coca-Cola Soccer Cup final. It appears that the art of Football Hooliganism, which the British and Germans have perfected, has reared its ugly head here. That goes without saying - you cannot be proudly South African when incidents such as missile throwing and vandalism tarnish South Africa's most popular sport. Nor can you be when you here where Sport Minister Balfour was. I quote, 'When I am at my sister's house in Middledrift, eating fresh bread and jam with my nieces and nephews, I don't like seeing that kind of thing.' Unbelievable. Instead of making an appearance at this popular annual event, he surrounds himself with piles of bread and jam. Why is he Sports Minister? "Because I love games." Well, I love MG's and Land Rovers - why can't I become Transport Minister? Perhaps the games that he was referring to are Silly-Buggers, Ballyhoo, Shenanigans and Tomfoolery - which leads me into this. In terms of where we are, in terms of where we have come from but most importantly, in terms of where we want to go - if fate will guide this country and take all our current belief and patriotism with it, then we must ask the hands of the Gods that they could meet us half way - a reasonable request. 50/50 - if the ANC is again victorious in the next election, they must regard 1999 as the last time Ministers in the cabinet were appointed because of their contribution during the 'struggle'. Comrades, as in 'Viva Comrades', have had their deserved fun and experience in important positions with the responsibility of crucial decisions. Appointments now carry much more weight than the 'struggle' - we cannot afford more ludicrous and completely inapplicable structures as a result of political clueless ness. It is a nice thought, aspiring to be as wealthy as some of the younger British aristocrats (without doing a days work in your life). You could call yourself an actor, watch television the entire day and talk like you've studied at Harvard. You return back to England on the odd occasion, where you're constantly involved in a war against your friend Jaspar Montague-Finnermore-Bromomere-Cadogan based on his better collection of Gieves and Hawkes shirts or Omega watches. You are in the same circle of friends (backstabbers) as Lady Victoria Hervey and Lord Frederick Windsor - two of the very worst ever, and, even though you know this, you think it's good to hang around them. Daddy has a castle in Scotland, and you take your friends (backstabbers) for lavish dinner parties where you say things like, 'Giles, we'll take coffee in the Billiards room'. Who would you rather be? It is well documented that the British, for all their exquisite tastes and teachings, are indeed the most selfish people upon the planet. The caliber of person represented above is by no means an exaggeration - it is alive and walks amongst us. Again, don't do that. For the last time this year, I'll tell you that success in this country will only happen when one takes great risks and make brave decisions. Personified in the story of perhaps one of the most brilliant people ever, Johnny Clegg. Think about this quickly. A seventeen-year-old Jewish boy from Yeoville finds a group of African men playing a strange guitar under a tree. The leader of the group is a janitor - with due caution, he starts teaching the youngster how to play in his small room at the top of an apartment block. When the white landlord finds out, he sacks the janitor immediately, sending him back to Kwa-Zulu Natal. A few months later, young Johnny Clegg is walking around when he sees a young black man carrying exactly the same guitar. 'My name is Sipho,' says the man, 'I've come from Zululand to find the young white man who wants to play the African guitar.' The next time you get despondent, or you hear Minister Balfour attacking our talent or Essop Pahad making some ridiculous comment, think about Johnny Clegg and where he is now. America is a land full of opinion polls, surveys and fixed elections. Also be aware that more and more sensible Americans are settling here permanently - not only because it's Open Season for Hunter Bush and his poodle Blair, but also because they see immeasurable potential amongst and within good people. If there is one thing that South Africa deserves for Christmas, it is pride. Not Oakley sunglasses and free golf shirt pride, but pioneering pride - acceptance of where we are and fearlessness to cross cultures. Have a very good new year - remember that if you are willing to be lucky, nothing looks after you better than fate. We have never been more heroic.

Simon Reader is a producer and consultant for a South African communications company. He intends to complete his first novel within the next year.The views of the writer are his own and may not be supported by the website- Editor

click to email editor