Heritage in our hands

No-one wants to be a grinch on Heritage Day weekend, but there is a fine line between the noble preservation of one’s own culture and the ignoble descent into the dismissal and condemnation of others.

We all know that horrible word, “xenophobia”. There’s another, less widely used but just as sinister expression making its slow way into modern parlance, and that is “ethno-fascism” (thanks are due to polymath Mandla Langa for teaching me this term).

Not yet ensconced in all dictionaries, ethno-fascism means using either race or ethnicity, or a combination, to classify which people are “legitimate” members of a state and which are undesirable aliens. It’s a bit like xenophobia, only far worse.

In an ethno-fascist state, the only factor that qualifies people to be called “citizens” is their bloodline — in other words their ethnicity. Not where they were born, not personal freedom or self-determination, not any bill of rights, and certainly not the mere fact of their humanity.

Ethnicity, incidentally, has come to mean that which is specific to a race or a particular national identity, but it started off as something else. When “ethnic” and “ethnicity” first entered the English language in the early 1400s, they referred to people considered to be heathens or pagans. It’s not a big leap from that damning definition to that other dreadful term, “ethnic cleansing”.

“Heritage” has less dubious origins. It has always meant that which is inherited. The words “heredity” and “heirloom” come from the same root. It is something solid to be held on to; something precious to be treasured.

(Incidentally, the words “heresy” and “heretics”, which have more in common with the intolerant etymological ancestor of “ethnicity”, spring from a source completely unrelated to “heritage”. From the Greek word haireisthai, meaning to take or seize, heretics were vilified for thinking thoughts not condoned by those who dictated what one should think.)

These days, “ethnicity” and “heritage” are often used interchangeably, both understood to describe one’s historical and cultural origins, covering everything from food to fabric to fables.

Tack fascism onto ethnicity, however, and you have a far more frightening concept, something akin to what the Nazis intended with their “racial purity” policies.

You don’t have to look far for examples of ethno-fascism in SA. In August, public horror was expressed at the tweets disseminated by an entity intent on causing division rather than fostering unity. Whoever is behind this nebulous syndicate posted pictures of comedian Trevor Noah and new Johannesburg mayor Jolidee Matongo (who died in a car accident a month later), saying they did not deserve to be called South Africans because each had a parent of other ethnicity.

There seems to be very little support for this revolting body, but the fact that it still seeks to spread such ethno-fascist hatred is of immense concern.

There is no such thing as “pure” heritage, or ethnicity for that matter. We all have mixed salads in our ancestral pasts. In every person’s genealogy is some conflict or dissension, some point at which things changed and people disagreed about what was right. That’s called history. We can’t claim any one part of it as our heritage. We all contain multitudes.

“Heritage” is a good word. Knowing where we come from, honouring our ancestors and preserving the history, languages and customs we have inherited from them are all good things.

When preservation mutates into pugnacious ethno-superiority, however, what was admirable can quickly turn rotten.

Preserving languages and customs that are in danger of being lost is something to be commended, but is the amputation of one’s roots really such a bad thing if this loss of memory translates into a more tolerant and unified country?

There’s no right or wrong answer. It is possible to cleave to one’s heritage without maligning anyone else’s.

Perhaps we have too narrow a view of “heritage”. If it means simply “that which is passed on”, we have the opportunity to be the benefactors of a new history, to leave different values to those who come after us.

However we act now will become the heritage of future generations. What do we want that to be?