Business Day

Range Rover loses its grip on perfection

Still the best car in the world it may not be, but it is still absolutely wonderful to drive

- parkera@bdfm.co.za

AN INTERESTIN­G developmen­t over the past week or so is the appearance on the South African scene of extreme politics of varying flavours. It goes without saying that events of the past week are not the cause of this materialis­ation, but that rather it is the events of the past 20 years, and those 20 years in the context of the 400 that preceded them.

But they are very different kinds of extremism. Steve Hofmeyr’s “Red October” march against the perceived “slaughter” of white people in SA was base, simplistic and unreconstr­ucted racism. They carried old South African flags. I don’t know what we can do about Hofmeyr and his gang of white genociders. Appeals to research, fact and reason, as performed admirably by Africa Check’s Nechama Brodie, fall on utterly disinteres­ted ears.

So if it’s not reality that counts, one can only assume that Hofmeyr needs a false construct — shored up with victimhood and racial nationalis­m — of reality to back up some kind of agenda. I suspect that agenda is apartheid. Any white person who claims to feel the black experience in this country is a fool. But I’m guessing the whole thing was hugely offensive. Thank goodness Hofmeyr doesn’t seem to have the support of most white South Africans.

But Julius Malema’s Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) is a far more nuanced and interestin­g manifestat­ion of extremism. First, it’s a rare modern political party aimed at black voters that overtly dispenses with nonraciali­sm and tells whites “the honeymoon is over”, whatever that means.

Malema has cleverly and thoughtful­ly positioned the EFF as a party for people who feel left out in the cold — from the landless poor to those irritated by e-tolling in Gauteng. This includes those who see continued wealth among whites as problemati­c. Worrying about the wealthy as opposed to the poor is a classic hallmark of the left, and hammering a wealthy minority has a long tradition of being well received.

From the helm, where it matters, it’s still a proper Range Rover — and praise comes no higher than that

Hofmeyr’s racial nationalis­m and Malema’s national socialism are ugly emanations enjoying sustenance from the African National Congress’s (ANC) inability to control crime, corruption and cronyism — and, most important, to let the economy run free. It takes a racist demagogue to read white genocide into this, as much as it takes a calculated political opportunis­t to abandon nonraciali­sm as a result of it. Whichever way you look at it, it’s not good news. They exist because the centre isn’t holding. While Red October is an offensive throwback, it does at least seem to have a limited constituen­cy of racist white Afrikaners, whereas the EFF is different. The difference is measurable in the intellectu­al difference between Malema and Hofmeyr. Malema is clearly a lot smarter and streetwise.

What Malema knows is that, quite legitimate­ly, there are a lot more angry blacks than angry whites. How both these political philosophi­es fare will ultimately teach us how far we’ve come, and whether the ANC has failed — or not — to build its famous nonracial society.

It has taken me almost a year to get my hands on the new Range Rover, a car about which the motoring press fairly vomited acclaim on its launch last year. As a result, I was expecting it to be just about perfect, but I’m afraid it isn’t. First, there’s the way it looks. Evidently the folk at Land Rover have taken a look at their average customer, establishe­d that it is no longer British aristocrat­s towing their ponies to the polo, but in fact wealthy eastern businessme­n. Hence, it no longer flies under the radar. It’s overtly showy, bling and loud. It has design flourishes. And the reason I have always loved Range Rovers is that they are quietly peerless. This one broadcasts its prowess.

Second, there’s the touchscree­n computer system, which was old hat in the previous model. This smacks of budget problems. The previous Range Rover, launched in 2002, was designed for a 10-year lifespan with $1bn of BMW’s cash. This model, 10 years later, was designed with $800m of Tata’s cash, I am told.

And I’m afraid you can tell. They’ve had to save money, and that’s why the Range Rover — all R1.8m of it — has an embarrassi­ngly clunky touchscree­n interface that would look bad in a Freelander, and that’s also why it doesn’t have any of the bewilderin­g array of safety systems you can find in the Range Rover’s closest competitor, the Mercedes-Benz S-Class. Evidently, Range Rover chose to spend its limited budget on some serious engineerin­g and ensuring that rear accommodat­ion is up to scratch.

This is where it gets good. Those clever engineers have shaved off 350kg and the rear accommodat­ion is excellent, if not quite as magnificen­t as that of the S-Class.

And no mater how irritated I am by some of what’s been done to my favourite car of all time, it’s just spankingly wonderful to drive. It has the unmatched, imperious driving position, the 5l supercharg­ed model goes like stink and uses far, far less fuel than the old one did — up to 40% less. Despite the car’s legendary off-road skills (and I take this on advisement, I never left the asphalt), the ride and handling defy the sheer size of the thing.

The boot is huge, and still has the lovely split tailgate, which works as brilliantl­y as a table for sherry and Melton Mowbrays at the point-to-point as it helps make it easier to load a chintzy water feature for your arriviste Tuscan mansion.

I found myself unable to not love it in the end. From the helm, where it matters, it’s still a proper Range Rover — and praise comes no higher than that. It’s superbly comfortabl­e, brilliant to drive, fast and will go anywhere. Whether it’s still the best car in the world is probably up for debate, however. As a top-end luxury car, it is falling behind in some important areas — and I really never thought I’d write that about a Range Rover.

I suppose it’s always challengin­g when the benchmark slips a little. With Jaguar, Lamborghin­i, RollsRoyce and Bentley all entering the SUV arena, much like the ANC, Land Rover will need to pull its socks up.

 ?? Picture: QUICKPIC ?? BLING: Unlike its understate­d predecesso­rs, the new Range Rover tends to broadcast its prowess.
Picture: QUICKPIC BLING: Unlike its understate­d predecesso­rs, the new Range Rover tends to broadcast its prowess.
 ?? Alexander Parker
Vrroom with a View ??
Alexander Parker Vrroom with a View

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