In From Strength to Love, his 1963 volume of sermons, Martin Luther King writes, “The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy”.
It is in response to this challenge that, weak as our voices may be, they shall not be silenced as we endeavour to pursue a better deal for the masses of the poor and downtrodden. Even at the risk of being labelled with fancy terms by those who choose to be oblivious to the realities of the daily grind of the poverty-stricken masses, we forge ahead and breathe life into our constitutionally guaranteed right to speak and be heard.
We cannot drive a developmental agenda of radical socioeconomic transformation unless we open up our repository of audacity to face the multi-faceted reality of our failures. The key to opening up our store of audacity lies in asking the difficult, sometimes self-incriminating questions as the governing party.
Why are the rural citizens still bearing the brunt of poverty, inequality and unemployment despite 23 years of highly commendable developmental efforts by the state? Why do we still have children learning under abhorrent conditions in so-called mud schools? Why do we still have millions of citizens living in sub-human, congested informal settlements, prone to fire, disease, crime and substance abuse? Why do we still have women and girls who spend a significant part of their day walking kilometres to fetch water using buckets?
Yes, there are historical apartheid-induced causal factors, but do we still have the luxury of pointing to these amidst growing perceptions that we could have done more rather than become embroiled in corrupt practices?
Borrowing again from Martin Luther King Jnr, this time his “I have a Dream” speech and adapting it for the South African context, “We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind (South Africa) of the fierce urgency of Now! This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilising drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy”, he charged.
The cooling off period which allowed us to blame apartheid and not be challenged is over. The tranquilising drug of gradualism that made our people understand we were still learning how to hold the reins of government has long passed its expiry date. People are demanding that which they believe they fought for and are using the fierce urgency of Now! They want to see and feel the land of milk and honey we described in our election manifesto of 1994.
Cometh the time, cometh the man! None dare deny that the time has indeed cometh. But dare we boldly say, the man has cometh? We are forced to ask these questions given the proliferation of leaders who, in their quest for self-aggrandisement, subscribe to Horace’s Epicurean-background philosophy of carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero (seize the day, put very little trust in tomorrow ie. the future).
Some of those leading us are hell-bent on filling as many of their own pockets as is possible, feeding off the public purse as if there is no tomorrow to think of.
Do we have leaders able to hear and apply the words of Malcolm X when he says, “I am for the truth, no matter who tells it. I am for justice, no matter who it is for or against. I am a human being, first and foremost, and as such I am for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole”?
Can the real revolutionaries stand up before the window of opportunity which derives from the people’s patience, love and understanding close forever?
Part of the problem is that we have an oversupply of politicians and a scarcity of activists. What is the difference? In the simplest terms a politician is a person who is professionally involved in politics, especially as a holder of an elected public office, whereas an activist is a person who endeavours to bring about social change and needs to occupy no position to do so.
The kind of leader we need to take us into the future must, in holding public office as a politician, be an activist to the core.
The fuel that drives a politician is what to say in order to ensure a return to office and so keep his or her bacon. The passion that drives an activist is derived from perpetually asking him or herself this guiding question, “What can be done today, tomorrow and the next day to radically transform the socioeconomic conditions of the people?”
Amilcar Cabral puts this succinctly, “Always bear in mind that the people are not fighting for ideas, for the things in anyone’s head. They are fighting to win material benefits, to live better and in peace, to see their lives go forward, to guarantee the future of their children”.
Politicians speak to feed people with ideas from their heads. Activists fight to provide material benefits. Politicians are modern-day carpe diem Horaces. Activists seek to guarantee the future of our children. Politicians bask in the luxury of plush offices, shielded by blue light brigades. Activists live with and amongst the people.
Activists are generously empathetic to the poor. Using their personal resources they are forever trying to find ways to improve the prevailing conditions of both individuals and communities. Where their own resources fall short, they become a throbbing nerve to those who live in abundance, pushing for social transformation.
Whilst politicians may be groomed through studying political theory or being exposed to political leadership circles to glean knowledge and tactics, activism is not a learned attribute. You either have it or you don’t.
Activism is born of a deep-seated and inherent philanthropic spirit that is often sharpened and enhanced by having experienced and borne the brunt of the same conditions that the activist seeks to transform. The rich man who has not tasted poverty can never fight against it more passionately than the activist nurtured in the dirt of deprivation.
The Eastern Cape is undeniably the face of poverty, unemployment and inequality in South Africa. The millions of people who inhabit the ubiquitous informal settlements in the Western Cape are, almost to the last one, people who call our province home.
No wonder the likes of Helen Zille referred to our people as “refugees”.
In order for us to rise to the fierce urgency of Now; in order for us to extricate ourselves from the lethargy of tranquilising gradualism and its mind-set that condones the slow delivery of services; and in order for us to make real the promises of democracy, we have to conduct deep introspective analysis. Do we want to elect those who are politicians only into this engine of radical socioeconomic transformation called the African National Congress or we want a politician who is by birth and design, a philanthropic activist.
As branches of the ANC start their nomination meetings and select conference delegates, they must reflect very wisely on the material conditions of our people. We have to understand that we don’t just need the proven politician but rather the revolutionary activist whose life-world demonstrates philanthropic empathy, clarity of thought and deep, experiential understanding of the struggle of the majority of the rural poor in our province.
Furthermore, most Eastern Cape citizens are rural and fall under the jurisdiction of traditional leaders to whom they owe allegiance alongside their support for the ANC and other parties. Even those who own houses and live in the cities have rural ancestral homes to which they regularly return to take part in traditional matters.
We therefore need a leader who understands and respects the institution of traditional leadership and realises the need to forge closer relationships with its representatives, especially given the possibility that they will form their own political party to contest elections.
Those of us who live in the rural areas and campaign in villages ahead of elections know that traditional leaders hold powerful sway over their people. In fact, in most areas, unless an ANC candidate has a traditional leader who is sympathetic to the ANC, he or she has little hope of winning the ward.
Judging by the nomination meetings completed thus far, branches appear to agree that Lubabalo Mabuyane best fits this profile. Born into poverty, raised in poverty, his formative years shaped the requisite resilience necessary for facing life as a poverty-stricken child.
His life-story is a lesson in the art of overcoming material deprivation and breaking the bondages of poverty.
An added advantage is his grasp of the traditional leadership institution.
The totality of his life experiences afford us a rare opportunity – to elect a seasoned politician who has grown through the ranks of the movement, and also an activist whose revolutionary fibre has been tempered by hunger in the furnace of burning poverty. Branch to branch, delegate to delegate, let us do the right thing!
Ace Ncobo is a branch secretary of the ANC
No to tranquilising drug of gradualism
It is in response to this challenge that, weak as our voices may be, they shall not be silenced as we endeavour to pursue a better deal for the masses of the poor and downtrodden. Even at the risk of being labelled with fancy terms by those who choose to be oblivious to the realities of the daily grind of the poverty-stricken masses, we forge ahead and breathe life into our constitutionally guaranteed right to speak and be heard.
We cannot drive a developmental agenda of radical socioeconomic transformation unless we open up our repository of audacity to face the multi-faceted reality of our failures. The key to opening up our store of audacity lies in asking the difficult, sometimes self-incriminating questions as the governing party.
Why are the rural citizens still bearing the brunt of poverty, inequality and unemployment despite 23 years of highly commendable developmental efforts by the state? Why do we still have children learning under abhorrent conditions in so-called mud schools? Why do we still have millions of citizens living in sub-human, congested informal settlements, prone to fire, disease, crime and substance abuse? Why do we still have women and girls who spend a significant part of their day walking kilometres to fetch water using buckets?
Yes, there are historical apartheid-induced causal factors, but do we still have the luxury of pointing to these amidst growing perceptions that we could have done more rather than become embroiled in corrupt practices?
Borrowing again from Martin Luther King Jnr, this time his “I have a Dream” speech and adapting it for the South African context, “We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind (South Africa) of the fierce urgency of Now! This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilising drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy”, he charged.
The cooling off period which allowed us to blame apartheid and not be challenged is over. The tranquilising drug of gradualism that made our people understand we were still learning how to hold the reins of government has long passed its expiry date. People are demanding that which they believe they fought for and are using the fierce urgency of Now! They want to see and feel the land of milk and honey we described in our election manifesto of 1994.
Cometh the time, cometh the man! None dare deny that the time has indeed cometh. But dare we boldly say, the man has cometh? We are forced to ask these questions given the proliferation of leaders who, in their quest for self-aggrandisement, subscribe to Horace’s Epicurean-background philosophy of carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero (seize the day, put very little trust in tomorrow ie. the future).
Some of those leading us are hell-bent on filling as many of their own pockets as is possible, feeding off the public purse as if there is no tomorrow to think of.
Do we have leaders able to hear and apply the words of Malcolm X when he says, “I am for the truth, no matter who tells it. I am for justice, no matter who it is for or against. I am a human being, first and foremost, and as such I am for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole”?
Can the real revolutionaries stand up before the window of opportunity which derives from the people’s patience, love and understanding close forever?
Part of the problem is that we have an oversupply of politicians and a scarcity of activists. What is the difference? In the simplest terms a politician is a person who is professionally involved in politics, especially as a holder of an elected public office, whereas an activist is a person who endeavours to bring about social change and needs to occupy no position to do so.
The kind of leader we need to take us into the future must, in holding public office as a politician, be an activist to the core.
The fuel that drives a politician is what to say in order to ensure a return to office and so keep his or her bacon. The passion that drives an activist is derived from perpetually asking him or herself this guiding question, “What can be done today, tomorrow and the next day to radically transform the socioeconomic conditions of the people?”
Amilcar Cabral puts this succinctly, “Always bear in mind that the people are not fighting for ideas, for the things in anyone’s head. They are fighting to win material benefits, to live better and in peace, to see their lives go forward, to guarantee the future of their children”.
Politicians speak to feed people with ideas from their heads. Activists fight to provide material benefits. Politicians are modern-day carpe diem Horaces. Activists seek to guarantee the future of our children. Politicians bask in the luxury of plush offices, shielded by blue light brigades. Activists live with and amongst the people.
Activists are generously empathetic to the poor. Using their personal resources they are forever trying to find ways to improve the prevailing conditions of both individuals and communities. Where their own resources fall short, they become a throbbing nerve to those who live in abundance, pushing for social transformation.
Whilst politicians may be groomed through studying political theory or being exposed to political leadership circles to glean knowledge and tactics, activism is not a learned attribute. You either have it or you don’t.
Activism is born of a deep-seated and inherent philanthropic spirit that is often sharpened and enhanced by having experienced and borne the brunt of the same conditions that the activist seeks to transform. The rich man who has not tasted poverty can never fight against it more passionately than the activist nurtured in the dirt of deprivation.
The Eastern Cape is undeniably the face of poverty, unemployment and inequality in South Africa. The millions of people who inhabit the ubiquitous informal settlements in the Western Cape are, almost to the last one, people who call our province home.
No wonder the likes of Helen Zille referred to our people as “refugees”.
In order for us to rise to the fierce urgency of Now; in order for us to extricate ourselves from the lethargy of tranquilising gradualism and its mind-set that condones the slow delivery of services; and in order for us to make real the promises of democracy, we have to conduct deep introspective analysis. Do we want to elect those who are politicians only into this engine of radical socioeconomic transformation called the African National Congress or we want a politician who is by birth and design, a philanthropic activist.
As branches of the ANC start their nomination meetings and select conference delegates, they must reflect very wisely on the material conditions of our people. We have to understand that we don’t just need the proven politician but rather the revolutionary activist whose life-world demonstrates philanthropic empathy, clarity of thought and deep, experiential understanding of the struggle of the majority of the rural poor in our province.
Furthermore, most Eastern Cape citizens are rural and fall under the jurisdiction of traditional leaders to whom they owe allegiance alongside their support for the ANC and other parties. Even those who own houses and live in the cities have rural ancestral homes to which they regularly return to take part in traditional matters.
We therefore need a leader who understands and respects the institution of traditional leadership and realises the need to forge closer relationships with its representatives, especially given the possibility that they will form their own political party to contest elections.
Those of us who live in the rural areas and campaign in villages ahead of elections know that traditional leaders hold powerful sway over their people. In fact, in most areas, unless an ANC candidate has a traditional leader who is sympathetic to the ANC, he or she has little hope of winning the ward.
Judging by the nomination meetings completed thus far, branches appear to agree that Lubabalo Mabuyane best fits this profile. Born into poverty, raised in poverty, his formative years shaped the requisite resilience necessary for facing life as a poverty-stricken child.
His life-story is a lesson in the art of overcoming material deprivation and breaking the bondages of poverty.
An added advantage is his grasp of the traditional leadership institution.
The totality of his life experiences afford us a rare opportunity – to elect a seasoned politician who has grown through the ranks of the movement, and also an activist whose revolutionary fibre has been tempered by hunger in the furnace of burning poverty. Branch to branch, delegate to delegate, let us do the right thing!
Ace Ncobo is a branch secretary of the ANC
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