Cowering behind the orcs in parliament is SA’s own Gollum

TRY as we might, it’s been almost impossible to avoid the roguishness, adolescent behaviour and sheer imbecility in parliament this past week. The place probably had to descend to such boorishness for ordinary folk to take any notice of it.

There’s an attempt to apportion blame or absolve others, to sort out the good guys from the bad. That’s as futile as it is unnecessary. They’re birds of a feather. They deserve each other. After such a performance, how do they go home to look their children in the eye?

Toddlers in a kindergarten are better behaved. Only shebeen patrons in an advanced state of inebriation probably come close.

Perhaps what happens in the House is a mirror or reflection of the depravity in our society. As the MPs were adorning the place with insults, for instance, ANC Youth League members at a meeting in the Eastern Cape were quietly sorting out their differences with knives and pangas; taxi drivers in Joburg, tired of terrorising motorists, parked their old clunkers and went on the obligatory rampage in an attempt to extract some ill-defined concessions from the authorities; and elsewhere taxi violence erupted again, leaving five dead, and many, including bystanders, injured. That about sums up a day in the life of South Africa.

Ironically, for a country that has earned a reputation for its remarkable ability to talk itself out of trouble (we miraculously avoided a civil war), violence and insults have become tools of communication.

The behaviour of our honourable members should not have come as a surprise. Many of the MPs aren’t necessarily the cream of our society. Some are barely literate. They’ve been sent to parliament not to think for themselves, let alone on their feet, but merely to be bums on seats and occasionally cast a vote as instructed. They act or speak on cue. No intellectual rigour is required or necessary. Even the simple act of pressing the right button to vote has apparently been a challenging exercise for some of them.

And so, when tempers flare, it becomes more tempting and easier to raise a voice or wave a fist than to reason — especially if it’s in a language that’s unfamiliar. Watching the televised proceedings, one can only squirm with embarrassment. It’s sobering to think that this lot is responsible for making laws for this great republic.

They are an ungovernable rabble. They don’t seem to have the time or patience to listen, reason or reflect on what is being said. They only stand up to scold the other side. The country would do well to invest in an anger management course for MPs.

But if it’s difficult or futile to nail the villain of the piece among the MPs, the real culprit is not even in the House. He’s giving it a wide berth. President Jacob Zuma has poisoned the well. He has contaminated everything he has touched.

A president who’s properly in tune with the commands of his office is a symbol of national unity, and he revels in carrying out his responsibilities, however tough or demanding they may be. Zuma divides us.

In times of crisis or disaster, a president is consoler-in-chief, able to accurately put into words a nation’s pain and distress. Zuma can’t do that. He adds to our distress. Almost every problem we have seems to lead back to Zuma.

He can still sign bills into law and cut ribbons but, emotionally, he’s almost ceased to be our president. He exists for the sole benefit of comedians and cartoonists. Politically, he’s a corpse — a dead man walking — carried only by the numerical strength of his party.

The ANC has marshalled and abused state resources to defend him. While he refuses to go anywhere near parliament, for instance, his MPs have been instructed to defend him at all costs. There’s nothing more cowardly than that.

A president who supposedly has a good story to tell should surely relish the prospect of going toe-to-toe with his political foes in parliament. That’s the new site or arena of struggle. Instead, he decides to go AWOL, leaving his caucus to fight an embarrassingly raucous but futile battle — unbecoming behaviour for a head of state.

The problem for the ANC is that it has a leader who hardly has the confidence or ability to stand his ground, even against the meekest of opposition.

It came as no surprise that the agreement that Cyril Ramaphosa manfully tried to knit together between the parties this week crumbled acrimoniously in a day. The mistrust between the parties is such that they couldn’t even agree on what was agreed.

Zuma is no longer alone in the dock. Senior party officials have not only refused to tell the emperor that he has no clothes, they have strenuously tried to hide his nakedness. They are complicit in his misdemeanours.

If it’s the intention of the ANC hierarchy to destroy their party, they’re going about it the right way. But, sadly, they’re also seriously damaging the reputation of the country. Comment on this: write to tellus@sundaytimes.co.za or SMS us at 33971 www.timeslive.co.za