SA is facing a departure from a politics of love and service
Starting the year off with the funeral of a man of Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Mpilo Tutu’s calibre and what he stood for must be a moment for pause and reflection about the South Africa we are all working towards.
The Arch was among the last moral giants who were the founding fathers of the South Africa we know today. He radiated and lived a life of struggle for the liberation of South Africans, born out of love that shone defiant and undaunted, even at the risk of being labelled a “terrorist sympathiser” or “religious rebel”.
Paying her respects to Tutu, Graça Machel said of him: “Fighting for freedom from the trenches of South Africa required courage that cannot be described.
“Day by day, minute by minute, every step he took he was shaping the course of history. Every sentence he spoke impacted the lives of millions, and both unified and empowered those in the noble struggle against apartheid.”
The story of the birth of democracy in
South Africa could not be told without referencing Tutu’s critical role as chairperson of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). The TRC came soon after the liberation of black people in South Africa.
The aim of the TRC was very specific: “to discover the causes and nature of human rights violations in South Africa between 1960 and 1994; to identify victims with a view to paying reparations; and to allow amnesty to those who fully disclosed their involvement in politically motivated human rights violations”.
An admittedly daunting task, but one that could only be undertaken by someone of unshakeable moral standing and love for his people.
The image of Tutu breaking down in tears during the testimony of Singqokwana Ernest Malgas as he described how apartheid security police tortured him, will forever be etched on my mind. Some might consider this as showing weakness and lacking the temerity required for such a position.
To me, the depth and significance of that moment showed me a man who felt so deeply for his people. He was moved by stories of the atrocities that people can wreak on each other when there is a departure from love to a culture of rampant human rights violations.
In 2007, on his 89th birthday, former president Nelson Mandela formed an organisation called The Elders. It was composed of leaders who had distinguished themselves by living selfless lives in the pursuit of human rights and peace. These included Graça Machel, Kofi Annan, Ellen Sirleaf, Jimmy Carter, Mary Robinson and Ban Ki-moon.
“The Elders can speak freely and boldly, working both publicly and behind the scenes... they will support courage where there is fear, foster agreement where there is conflict and inspire hope where there is despair,” said Mandela. This is what Tutu did.
Marianne Williamson, the author of A Politics of Love: A Handbook for A New American Revolution, writes about this in her book: “For a country as for an individual, the issue is not just what we’re going through, but also who we choose to be as we go through it. The same psychological, emotional, and spiritual dynamics that prevail in the life of one person prevail in the life of a group because a nation is simply a collection of people. That’s why those who understand what makes one life change are those who have a clue about how to change the world."
Put plainly, the state of a country is reflective of the disposition and conscience of its people. South Africa is at odds with its moral conscience and the dictates of its foundations. Both those in power and ordinary people are not living a life premised on the furtherance of justice and conciliation, as envisioned by Tutu’s ilk.
South Africa is currently facing a departure from a politics of love and service.
This means that the people who currently hold political power are not there because of an unquestionable love of the country and our people.
When we break the tradition of a human rights focused past, we have to ask ourselves: what new traditions are we fostering? What will those who come after us inherit, and to what merit?
Those who pursue a world centred on the principles of love, conciliation and justice are often considered to be dreamers and idealists.
I see no fault in that, only testimony to a life built on a higher purpose than personal gain, which we should also aspire to.
When we break with the tradition of a human rights focused past, we have to ask ourselves: what new traditions are
we fostering?