Eish! ANC’s ama-dynamics

I ONCE had a discussion with Chinua Achebe over lunch at his home in upstate New York. The conversation turned on why he had never been honoured with the Nobel Prize for Literature. Achebe’s response was twofold – and all of it in light-hearted banter.

First, the Nobel Committee had overlooked him for so long they feared he might turn the offer down, which would cause them irreparable embarrassment. They probably figured it was better to let sleeping dogs lie. And indeed, Achebe went to his final sleep without the honour.

Achebe’s second response was that he was not in the least bothered. What was important, was a prize he had received from the people of his village in Nigeria.

In any event, even though he did not say it so himself, Achebe was bigger than the Nobel Prize itself.

I was reminded of this conversation by two e-mails I received from the director-general of the Eastern Cape – a certain Mbulelo Sogoni. The first was an invitation to give a presentation on something relating to democracy.

A second followed, marked “URGENT”. And so I turned to it with some curiosity. I had never received any communication from such high office in government – except for when Jacob Zuma invited me and a few writers to his house when he was elected president. That was the last I heard from him, but that is a story for another day.

The second e-mail read: “Kindly be advised that the invitation is withdrawn”.

Hayibo, I exclaimed to no one in particular. Just when I thought I had achieved the pinnacle of my career – an invitation from the Eastern Cape government. How could they deny me my 20 minutes of fame and glory?

But I have been in this world of invitations and disinvitations before. I kind of know the drill by now, and how to respond. Whenever anyone invites me there’s a little voice in my head that springs to action: “Eish, here we go again, be careful”.

My experience with these things suggested that someone had jumped the gun and invited me without checking with their political bosses. Peeved, the bosses instructed that the invitation be withdrawn without delay – hence the urgency.

Which brings me to another point – the sheer amateurishness of the whole thing. Did they really have to commit the withdrawal to paper? Someone could have easily called me to say: “Eish chief, ama-circumstances and ama-dynamics have forced us to reconsider the situation” – that is how “amandla functionaries” speak.

Did they really think I would take them to court for breach of promise, or that I might skip my classes and just pitch up at the door?

The truth is I am not one to be terribly excited by government invitations. They frighten me, quite frankly. They also bore me to death. I am more comfortable in the classroom, and when not doing that, hanging out with my “homies” in Ginsberg.

I don’t always agree with Julius Malema, but he is absolutely right when he says we must stop treating politicians like royalty. He has suggested a number of changes to the rules of parliament. One practice I would like to see changed, is the degrading practice of standing up whenever a minister or premier or president enters the room. I am not standing up for any two-legged creature with blood and flesh just like mine.

I digress. Now that I have dealt with the possible reasons behind the “urgency” of the withdrawal, let me briefly turn to the reason behind the withdrawal. It does not require rocket science to figure that out: I am a fierce critic of the ANC. Period. Now, I have never felt it necessary to explain why this is but maybe this is the time.

What the current leaders of the ANC do not know is that my great-grandfather, Peter Tyamzashe, started this organisation together with his friends – Walter Rubusana, Nathaniel Umhalla, James Pelem, Jonathan Tunyiswa, Green Sikundla, Mbem Njikelana and Paul Xiniwe – at a meeting in King William’s Town in May 1890.

The new organisation which they simply called Congress (Ingqungquthela), gained momentum in 1898 as the South African Native Congress at yet another meeting in Queenstown, where the political leaders were joined by religious leaders such as James Dwane and Pambani Mzimba.

Rubusana prophetically declared that although “the Congress organisation is not yet complete, it is a force for good in the country, and will undoubtedly assume the position of the representative native association of the future”.

The SANC was followed by the formation of the South African National Convention in 1909 where Rubusana was elected president and John Langalibalele Dube vice-president.

Yet, the last time I checked, Rubusana’s grave was lying in an appalling condition just outside East London.

As we speak, trying to find Steve Biko’s grave in the Ginsberg cemetery is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Instead of wasting precious time worrying about who they should invite to fancy conferences, the Eastern Cape government could rather do the simple thing of sending someone to cut the grass in that cemetery.

Back to the history of the ANC. It was only when Seme graduated from the Ivy League Columbia University that the South African National Native Congress was formed in 1912. Rubusana could easily have been elected president but for the sake of African unity he deferred to Dube. A sulking John Tengo Jabavu remained on the sidelines of all these developments.

It was only in 1923 that the Congress was renamed the African National Congress. Those were the days the ANC was led by teachers such as my great-grandfather and internationally respected academics such as Pixley ka Seme, Rubusana and Sol Plaatje, and not “amandla functionaries” simply preoccupied with being at the head of the table.

I recount this history to demonstrate how far the ANC has strayed from its path. But it should not need people like me to take it back there. Nevertheless, I will always remind it of that history every time it trashes tradition, like when it appoints someone once charged of murder as the head of the National Prosecuting Authority. Where have you ever heard of that in the civilised world?

And so here is my challenge to young people in the Eastern Cape. At the University of Cape Town I teach the sociology of African intellectuals. I am always looking for students who are interested in studying the African intellectual history I have just discussed. I teach this at second-year and at post-graduate levels. I encourage you to apply. Those of you in the ANC may acquire the knowledge of its history that will hopefully inspire you to take it back on its original path. Those of you outside the ANC, it is time to reclaim the country from the “amandla functionaries”.

Don’t concern yourselves about people like me. I am covered. It is you I worry about.

Xolela Mangcu is associate professor of sociology at UCT and a non-resident fellow of the Hutchins Centre for African and African-American Research at Harvard University