Economic growth demands that deeds replace words
Gaby Magomola argues that the next phase of the struggle is the fight against poverty
EARLIER this month, I paid a visit to my erstwhile home, Robben Island Maximum Security Prison. During the short voyage, I could not help but notice a school of screaming seagulls flying around the ferry with what seemed like excitement at seeing an old friend. Almost childishly, I smiled at them and shared the momentary joy with my wife and friends accompanying me. I had looked forward to being carried on the old ferry named Diaz, which, in 1963, carried 100 of us, the so-called hardegatte (hard cases) from Leeuwkop Maximum Prison, on draft (prison language for “transfer”) to The Stone — or Robben Island, to the uninitiated.
Leeuwkop prison is just outside Kyalami, now an upper middleclass area north of Johannesburg. I am often astonished that, a generation later, my son has catapulted himself out of the shadow of my past prisoner status to make his home here.
He and a handful of others from previously disadvantaged backgrounds have escaped the ravages of the evil system we fought and eventually subdued, at least politically. Regrettably, the majority of our youths continue to battle the indignity of unemployment — and herein lies the real challenge.
Leeuwkop brought us face to face with the devil incarnate, a warden named Magalies who constantly ridiculed us for taking on the mighty apartheid government. Physical torture and emotional pain were our daily bread.
On Robben Island, my status as an ex-convict brings certain privileges when I return. I was on what is termed a “protocol visit”, during which the island researchers accompanied us and recorded every word we said and the emotion behind these utterances. As in the past, TV cameras followed us.
On this visit I was accompanied by our friends, the celebrated musician Caiphus Semenya and his wife Letta. Some 30 years ago in the wilderness of the US, we had talked about returning as free men and women. Suddenly, and somewhat unexpectedly, the wish became reality.
This place still possesses that dark, ominous and foreboding atmosphere of an impenetrable fortress. The large pictures posted at the docks of prisoners chained to each other by their ankles and wrists as they arrive on the island are a spectacle that touches even those with hearts of stone. The visitors’ centre attached to the arched entrance emblazoned “We Serve with Pride” is a cruel reminder to the majority of us who received no visit over the many years spent there.
It is exactly half a century since our group arrived from Leeuwkop. I was just completing my teens when I first shook the hand of Nelson Mandela and Walter Sisulu and their Rivonia Trial colleagues who, after arriving on the island, found a few of us struggling to survive tu- berculosis, isolated in the Ou Tronk . This comprised the dilapidated cottages that had been home to previous political captives, lepers and others rejected or deemed undesirable by society at large on the mainland. Even in 1964, these derelict cottages were not fit for human occupation.
I can vividly remember Madiba lecturing Ahmed Kathrada on wheelbarrow-handling technique; Kathy was having a hard time trying to push a wheelbarrow filled with stones on an uneven walkway in the Ou Tronk courtyard. The wardens found this quite funny, but I and my fellow TB patients could only watch helplessly. This is where I stood on June 9 and said my prayer for Madiba’s recovery.
Later, we were driven to Robert Sobukwe’s eerie cottage on the other end of the island. This tworoom hovel was home to the man who had been banished to solitary confinement after he completed his sentence for defying the repressive pass laws by burning his pass in 1960. We were shown around this great leader’s cottage.
The miserable contents included a prewar transistor radio, his bed and what passed for a mattress and blankets, an iron and the magnifying glasses he needed because of his deteriorating eyesight.
We read his letters to his wife and wall prints from newspapers of that period. I was particularly struck by this remark to his wife: “I sometimes feel lonely.” For years, Sobukwe stayed in solitary confinement and had no one to speak to, not even his warden. It is reported that he once admitted to MP Helen Suzman that he was forgetting how to talk.
The island visit reminded me once again of the resilience of our
In tribute to those who braved Robben Island, let us make South Africa the beacon of hope it was starting to be
people. I found myself reflecting on many things, but central among them was the greatness of the African spirit. The visit made me think about our hard-won political freedom as we grapple with growing inequality, grinding poverty and the growing restlessness of those at the bottom of the ladder. I was again forcefully reminded that, more than ever, those of us who bear the responsibility of leadership ought to step up.
The slow growth of South Africa’s economy needs to be addressed with urgency. Government, business, labour and civil society must find one another in seeking permanent solutions to stimulate our economy as a first priority. This will require bold new thinking that might not be popular with some.
During 1991-92, when South Africa was in the throes of conflict, I was asked to join a diverse group of people to reflect on the future of our country. Some of the participants, such as Trevor Manuel, now a minister in the Presidency, continue to play a significant role.
This series of meetings culminated in what were known as the Mont Fleur Scenarios, after the conference centre where we met. After several weeks of discussions, the participants formulated some possible outcomes for South Africa: continued minority rule (ostrich), tightly circumscribed majority rule (lame duck) and socialism (Icarus).
In the end, the participants agreed that the country had to pursue a scenario we termed “the flight of the flamingos” — inclusive democracy and growth. Flamingos characteristically take off slowly, fly high and fly together. Although it could be argued that our country has not achieved all the characteristics of flamingos, we have nonetheless come a long way since those days.
In tribute to those who braved the cold, hunger and misery of Robben Island, those who faced an unknown world of exile and those who waited with bated breath here at home for us to return, let us help to make South Africa the beacon of hope it was starting to be.
The much-debated New Growth Path, which the government unveiled in 2010, could turn out to be our new rallying point. More resources and energy need to be channelled into explaining the plan to those who have not understood its purport and for others who are sceptical.
More importantly, we need to transform this from doctrine to practical reality. This can only happen if the execution starts now.
Magomola is a businessman, author and survivor of Robben Island