When the whiff of revolution starts getting up people’s noses

THIS column does not make for good Sunday morning breakfast consumption, so sensitive readers are advised to turn the page. It is about an issue that has been niggling this lowly newspaperman for some time, as I am sure it has millions of other South Africans. And the Somalis, Zimbabweans, Congolese, Bangladeshis and Serbs in our midst.

It has to do with the Pooh Revolution that is under way in Cape Town. For the aliens, vultures and other creatures who have just landed on our shores, the Pooh Revolution refers to a recently discovered form of protest whereby bucket loads of human faeces are dumped at strategic spots.

In some instances, a more watery version is sprayed on the motorcades of politicians the protesters do not like. For now, and hopefully forever, this form of protest has been limited to the Cape, where the drinking water contains behaviour-altering qualities and the oxygen is somewhat different from the regular type.

Ostensibly to highlight terrible sanitation conditions in Cape Town’s black townships, the protest has all the ingredients of silly schoolboy pranks. Except that it was the brainchild of adult “loyal and disciplined cadres” of South Africa’s governing party.

The police even intercepted a group carrying bucket loads of pooh on a train — yes, on a commuter train — en route to central Cape Town, where they were going to lay it on thick at some official building.

In itself, the sanitation issue is very serious, and the reason for the anger is legitimate. It is the manner of voicing this anger that is disgusting. Especially when it is done by adults.

Normally one can understand the genesis of various forms of protest: mass marches, street barricades, the beating of noisy drums and even the display of naked bodies à la Russia’s Pussy Riot movement. They are designed to create some form of disruption and thereby pressure authorities to do the right thing. People participating in such protests display camaraderie, and the robust unity often forces the targeted party to act.

But the Pooh Revolution has truly vexed me.

The things I have been trying to wrap my thick head around are the strategising sessions that precede a pooh protest, the actual execution of the act and the postmortem discussions once the comrades have fulfilled the task. I have been trying to ascertain what kind of camaraderie is forged through the handling and transporting of human waste.

Since the beginning of this creative protest strategy, I have wondered how tasks are allocated among the elite units that carry out the lightning strikes.

Who gets to collect the human dung and fill up the buckets? When they want it to be wet so it can be sprayed, who gets to mix it with water? Who loads it on the vehicles? Who sits with the buckets to make sure they do not spill when the vehicle hits a pothole or speed hump or has to brake suddenly? What is the conversation on the way to the target? Do they sing protest songs? Do the unit members discuss strategy or do they chat about their favourite football team, Kaizer Chiefs?

When they get to the target, who does the dumping of the stuff at the identified site of attack? Who cleans the buckets when the strike team has returned to base? And how do the revolution’s leaders judge the success of the mission? Is it by the next morning’s newspaper pictures and footage in the evening television news? Do they all do high-fives with open palms when the mission has been accomplished?

I know these questions may seem very trivial at this time when there are fundamental issues that face our good republic and in a week in which the country is playing host to the world’s most powerful man. But they are not trivial at all. The happenings in the Cape should sound very loud sirens about the state of our politics and the quality of what passes for leadership.

The fact that the ANC leaders in that community initiated the action and conducted similar pooh strikes in defiance of head office condemnation should worry the party. Not only did they defy head office, but their most recent target was Cape Town International Airport. This was a move designed to embarrass not only the Western Cape government and city authorities, but the entire country.

The problem with these types of activities is that they have a tendency to develop a life of their own. Today they may be practised by the people of the Cape, who are influenced by the nature of the water they drink and the special oxygen they breathe. But unless they are nipped in the bud, it will not be long before copycats throughout South Africa think that the best way to be heard is to dump the stinky stuff on the steps of the city hall — and before workers wanting to push for wage increases do the same at company headquarters.

And before long, heaven forbid, the Union Buildings will be a target.