Ramaphosa opens a Pandora’s box with the dumb and dangerous decision to allow religious services
It’s hard to believe that the pandemic that is now ravaging all parts of the globe with such a singular and efficient ruthlessness was hardly heard of six months ago, except maybe in China. Now the world is talking and worrying about nothing else. There’s currently no international convention or protocol on how to deal with the disease or minimise its impact. All countries are feeling their way in the dark, each learning on the hop by observing the mistakes and blunders — and some minor successes — of those who have already gone or are going through the wringer. But no two countries are ever the same or a carbon copy of each other, so such learnings will always be limited.
Initially at least, there was not much to learn from China, a closed and secretive dictatorship, which was the first to experience the full brunt of Covid-19. Whether for nationalistic pride or simply acting in character, China failed to alert the world on time or was not sufficiently candid. The world only sat up and took note when it witnessed the utter devastation the pandemic was wreaking in Italy, a First World country with highly skilled personnel and first-rate facilities reduced to a shambles of death and despair. Then came Spain, and then France. Germany has shown that, in the absence of a vaccine, accountable and decisive leadership combined with its distinctive efficiency is key to combating the virus. It and New Zealand — 21 deaths and no new transmissions recently — seem to have refined the template. That has strengthened the view in some quarters that the world would probably be a better place were it ruled by women.
Many South Africans have watched the misery and suffering around the world with some trepidation, like a condemned man waiting his turn on the gallows. We knew we stood little chance if and when the noose eventually swung our way. We are saddled with a government that is not only corrupt and incompetent, but has thoroughly driven a well-oiled economy into the ground, thus reducing its chances of withstanding such a calamity. We felt exposed and defenceless. We didn’t trust the government to be anywhere near capable of avoiding the gathering storms.
Then President Cyril Ramaphosa took a bold step, imposing a swingeing lockdown very early on, which met with near-universal approval. For a brief moment there was a spring in our step. It proved to be a false dawn, however. We’ve reverted to type. Ministers have used the goodwill engendered by Ramaphosa’s initial steps to advance capricious, spiteful and vengeful regulations that seem to reward their friends or constituencies and to punish perceived foes. They’re flexing their newfound muscles, and using the regulations to either settle old scores or attain ancient agendas. Eyes are no longer on the prize, which is defeating the pandemic. Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, for instance, seems determined to use the lockdown regulations not to slow down the rate of transmission but to stop people from smoking, a laudable ambition but completely beside the point. Ramaphosa, meanwhile, has failed to lead, his ministers rowing in different directions. His deference to Dlamini-Zuma is incomprehensible. He’s granted her so much latitude that the whole lockdown regime is now almost guided by her personal whims and fancies.
Ramaphosa beat her for the ANC leadership, but he behaves like a cricket captain who, on winning the toss, proceeds to give advantage to the opposition. He continues to misread the pitch.
And there’s no better example of that than his decision this week to allow religious bodies to resume holding normal services. The decision is as dumb as it is dangerous, and almost renders the whole exercise utterly futile and pointless. He might as well have lifted the lockdown. Ramaphosa therefore has not only been trashing his own authority — an indispensable commodity especially in times of peril — but has undermined public trust in the entire project.
We are told repeatedly that in order to discourage transmission of the pandemic we should regularly wash our hands, practise social distancing and wear masks. How does one do any of that during a religious service, especially at some of those charismatic churches where uncontrolled exuberance seems part of the package? And who will make sure there are only 50 people at the service?
Ramaphosa’s sudden realisation that religious worship is an essential service is not only absurd but almost Trumpian, and came a week after the US president had urged the flock to head back to church in contravention of his own government’s guidelines. But then Donald Trump has his eyes on November. He’s also nuts. We had thought better of our president.
Immediately after imposing the lockdown, Ramaphosa, accompanied by a gaggle of ministers, paid a special visit to ZCC headquarters in Moria, in Limpopo, and the suggestion at the time was that he was trying to mollify a huge constituency, especially as it was close to the Easter weekend. And so when Ramaphosa made the announcement this week, the thinking was that he’d finally been won over. But the ZCC, along with other churches, said they would not be resuming services. Who then has Ramaphosa been negotiating with? Who are these religious leaders who seem more inspired by the love of money than the wellbeing of their congregants and the wider community?
Like Trump, Ramaphosa’s decision seems driven more by political considerations — churches are a captive constituency for the ANC — than any concern to deal with the pandemic. He’s unfortunately opened a Pandora’s box.