We recall patriotism of the past, but suffer in unpatriotism of the ANC present

The frosty, biting weather of the past few days must have caused many faces to smile as it brought back some happy memories. This time 10 years ago SA was hosting the Soccer World Cup; the weather then, as now, was almost arctic. It was as if to drive visitors away. But the world came to party, and we were the grateful hosts. Our sunny disposition was not about to let the weather deter us. Even criminals, a constant scourge in our society, seemed to take time off from their nefarious activities to join the fun. A good time was had by all.

Nothing, save the 1994 elections that ushered in our democracy, engendered such excitement. SA had hosted the 1995 Rugby World Cup, which the Springboks surprised us by winning. We hosted the Africa Cup of Nations the following year, and won that too. But that was small beer. Outside of the Olympics, the Soccer World Cup is the Rolls-Royce of sporting events.

What made our chests expand with pride even more was that a mere 15 years after our liberation, we had beaten the big boys to host the biggest event in world sport. In fact, we could have hosted it four years earlier had the squeaky clean Germans not bribed a fellow from New Zealand to disappear with the single vote we needed to clinch it. They literally snatched the prize from our salivating mouths, the Germans. Plain daylight robbery. Days before the event, a British tabloid reported that a machete-wielding man was seen running amok in central Johannesburg. Imagine? Not true, of course. Sour grapes.

Hosting the event was not only about beating the other bidding nations, it was a triumph over prejudice. And it brought national pride, unity and harmony not seen since Nelson Mandela ascended to the Union Buildings. Just as we thought we had the makings of a unified and reconciled nation then, we again dared to dream. The flag, symbol of the new nation, blanketed every game and fluttered from every pole. South Africans had fallen in love with their flag, with their country.

Patriotism is a word that sensible people often avoid, or use with some reticence, and with good reason. It can be used to divide and exclude. When one embraces compatriots, one can sometimes be mistaken for denying a fair shake to those considered outsiders. For internationalists, that sticks in the craw. There’s often a thin line between jingoism and/or chauvinism. With xenophobes loudly on the march — and even in power — fair-minded people in some parts of the world tend to keep their distance from anything akin to patriotic fervour.

Patriotism is often described as love of country, but a country is not simply an empty expanse. It has to be inhabited. Other planets are not countries because no people live there — as far as we know.

Patriotism is, and has to be, about people. You have to love your people to love your country. If you’re patriotic, you can’t hate your people, hurt them, divide them, kill them, or steal from them.

To paraphrase St Francis of Assisi, a patriot should be one who brings hope where there’s despair, light instead of darkness, joy where there is sadness, and peace where there is discord.

Patriotism cannot be seasonal or periodic, or erupt only in times of high-profile events or achievements. It has to be something that is practised continually. Citizenship should be about more than a collection of people inhabiting the same space. Something else should bind them: love for others. That’s probably pie in the sky. But it’s something worth aiming for.

Patriotic deeds or endeavours should come from the top, and ordinary people will be quick to recognise them, or their absence.

For instance, President Cyril Ramaphosa’s announcement of the swingeing lockdown was met with near-universal acceptance although it meant enormous hardships for ordinary people. They accepted it because they knew it was the right thing to do. Yet Jacob Zuma was loudly booed at both the official opening of the 2010 Soccer World Cup and at Mandela’s memorial service because he was deemed to be unfit to wear the mantle at such important occasions. He had disqualified himself by his conduct, and was unworthy to speak on the people’s behalf.

Former US president Theodore Roosevelt advised against venerating leaders: “Patriotism means to stand by the country. It does not mean to stand by the president or any other public official, save exactly to the degree in which he himself stands by the country. It is patriotic to support him insofar as he efficiently serves the country. It is unpatriotic not to oppose him to the extent that he fails in his duty to stand by the country. It is unpatriotic not to tell the truth, whether about the president or anyone else.”

Zuma’s presidency was an unmitigated unpatriotic project — the promotion of unqualified lickspittles to crucial positions, disembowelling of key institutions, the looting, opening the sluice gates to the wholesale plunder of the country’s resources by the Guptas.

The ANC is equally to blame. It protected him and cheered him on. In fact the ANC, in its entirety, has become an unpatriotic enterprise. Zuma may be gone, but the egregious behaviour he spawned continues unabated. The country is on its knees — Tito Mboweni said so this week — and that’s solely by the party’s hand.

We’re staring into the abyss. The people who got us to such a pretty pass now promise to pull us back from the brink. But leopards aren’t in the business of changing their spots.