Preparing for the Mad Hatter’s tea party
Confusion before voting will be followed by disappointment afterwards, as promises are broken – but we have each other
AS WE prepare for our sixth national elections, it feels somewhat like a Mad Hatter’s tea party, where Lewis Carroll’s character Alice in Wonderland says to the Cheshire Cat: “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”
“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” is the reply. “I don’t much care where.” “Then it doesn’t much matter which way you go.”
If it is a matter of heaven or hell, though, it just may matter.
A pertinent parable of unknown source may help lighten our moods and prepare us for the election outcome of doom, gloom or euphoria.
While walking down the street one day, a member of parliament is tragically hit by a truck and dies. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St Peter at the entrance.
“Welcome to heaven,” says St Peter. “But before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, so we are not sure what to do with you.”
“No problem, just let me in,” says the MP.
“Well I’d like to, but I have orders from higher up. You see, things are not always as they seem, so we’ll let you spend one night in hell and the next in heaven, and then you can decide.”
“Really, I’ve made up my mind; I want to be in heaven,” says the MP.
“I’m sorry, but we have our rules,” says St Peter. And with that, St Peter escorts the MP to the elevator and he goes down to hell.
The doors open and the MP finds himself on a golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse, and in front of it stand all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.
Everyone is happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the poor.
They play a friendly game of golf and dine on lobster, caviar and champagne. Also present is the devil, who is a friendly and nice guy, telling jokes and singing and dancing.
Then it is time to leave and St Peter escorts the politician to the gates of heaven. There he spends the day with a group of contented souls, moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time, and now it is time to choose eternity.
“Where would you now like to be?” asks St Peter?
“Oh most definitely in hell,” says the politician. So off they go down to hell, only to find that everything has changed. It is now barren land covered with waste and garbage. The MP sees all his friends in rags, picking up the trash and looking miserable.
The devil comes up and puts his arm around his shoulders.
“I don’t understand,” stammers the MP. “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne and danced and had a great time. Now there is just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?”
The devil smiles and says: “Yesterday we were campaigning… And today you voted!”
Many South Africans will experience a sense of deflation after the voting process has ended, on account of a largely unchanged set of circumstances. Promises made will fade into promises broken.
The ardent campaigners will dissipate into thin air and the voters will suddenly lose their status of importance and their food parcels. It will become their turn to beg for service.
Life after the elections will normalise and regain its old momentum. The poor will still go hungry and the homeless will still have to sleep on the streets. The cost of bread and milk will still cripple the poor, and crime will still maroon us all into a senseless heap of traumatised individuals.
So what can we the electorate expect from our new government and its leader?
Nothing much, as it would be unrealistic to expect a government to deliver on all aspects of a nation’s well-being and satisfy all our expectations. This is especially so since our present government has invaded the state coffers and left us impoverished.
Systemic failures will arise from a multiplicity of factors inherited over the years, such as illiteracy, cultural and religious divisions, practices that retard progress, lack of education, endemic crime, poverty, corruption and racialism.
Just as much as a government inherits its people as a liability or an asset, so should its performance be assessed accordingly in terms of the sum of its parts. In turn, we as a people have been tasked with changing the course of our political history.
If we look deeply within ourselves, we will find that we as a people of all identities have an amazing ability to help ourselves. In little pockets of hope, white and black South Africans are working co-operatively together to add capacity to struggling communities. Hundreds of little NGOs are daily adding value and making a difference to the lives of communities untouched by government agencies.
Governments may come and governments may go, but South Africa’s wealth is her people. And it does not augur well for leaders to make divisive statements about who is a true South African. We are all true South Africans, though we may place our vote with any political party of our choice. In doing so we are effectively keeping democracy alive through the prevention of a one-party state.
In turn, we the people have to also take responsibility, not to just prop up our rulers, but keep them accountable, engage with them, and support them in areas that call for our intervention, if we want our democracy to survive.