Friday, 4 November 2016

#FeesMustFall: An Opinion


The issue of #FessMustFall has brought with it much controversy and thus brought the country to a standstill. This movement has often been characterized by what people have called senseless violence. This violence has mostly been palmed off to students have been standing up to a system that has and continues to exclude the majority of black[1] children from quality tertiary education. The Church has been caught off-guard, especially with regards to ways that it supports the call for free, decolonized education by the South African youth. It has often spoken along the lines, “We support the call for free education but condemn the burning of buildings”. I have thus associated the churches and most of society’s response to the student’s call as one that supports, but condemns.

I neither wish to speak on this issue from an economical nor a political lens, but rather a theological one. Theologically, liberation orientated scholars have often argued about the partiality of God, that God takes sides and is never neutral in situations teeming with injustice. Furthermore, God does not side with the powers that be, but rather with the victims of that power and/or the collateral damage that it leaves in its wake. Can then, fundamentally, the Church who is the chief manifestation of this prejudiced God, support but condemn simultaneously? Is the Church effectively saying that it supports the cries of the oppressed but condemns their attempt at breaking free from intentional structural chains? On which side of the coin do we as a Church belong? I understand that as part of the Church we cannot be seen to be supporting any kind of violence, but we are at least called to search beneath the surface to understand its causes. This assertion is primarily taken from the premise that students are directly responsible for the burning of buildings, which in reality is not an infallible fact. But let us assume that it is, does it then, in principle hinder the Church from supporting without condemning?

In his book, The Wretched of the Earth, Frantz Fanon argues that violence is the only means through which a colonized or an oppressed people can redefine or re-create themselves. In essence, Fanon argues that decolonization is always a violent event[2]. I therefore ponder if there is anything that can be known to be a peaceful revolution. Can people revolt without violence being the by-product thereof? If not, then where would the Church place itself, where would the Church locate justice that it would side with it? Would it be the unjust system that has disenfranchised black people for as long as we can remember, or the revolt that is an intrinsically violent protest against such exclusion from your own country’s resources? I ask again, in this context, can the Church that is a manifestation of this prejudiced God still afford to “support but condemn”?  

Upon the ushering of the new democracy, free education was one of the foremost promises made by the ruling party. This made sense because white and black people did not stand on equal footing, and due to the dispensation of apartheid, many black families would not be able to afford quality education. Therefore in order for the black child to be educated in such a manner that they can participate effectively in the economy of the country, education had to be free, it had to be a right and not a privilege. Twenty two years later no strides have been made to make good on the promise[3], and we find that all of this violence abounds, in principle because of something that was agreed upon twenty two years ago. I struggle when people pose questions such as “where would government get the money from?” when they have had twenty two years to figure that out. Perhaps the best way for us as the Church to understand these violent outbursts is to understand black pain. For how long were black people supposed to be obedient to exclusion, disenfranchisement and structural racism in tertiary education? Perhaps we need to ponder where justice lies between the powers that be and the victims of that power, such that we might side with it. We nevertheless join the struggle for free, quality, decolonized and Afro-centric education in our lifetime.





[1] It affects mostly, but is not limited to black students.
[2]Fanon. F. 1967. The Wretched of the Earth. London: Penguin Books. Pg. 27-29
[3] Apart from NSFAS which in essence is a loan, and bursaries which do not form a part of policy regarding free education.

Wednesday, 27 January 2016

Racism - Black and White South Africans in a Stalemate

Racism – Black and White South Africans in a Stalemate[1]

Racism is at the heart of the problems that South Africa as a nation faces in the democratic dispensation. This is a truth that many do not want to accept, people hoped that by pretending that it does not exist it will quietly dissipate by itself. From the political arena to religious platforms and even within communities, no active conversations about race exist; bar those with an accusatory tone. It is as if the country believes that when apartheid as a regime collapsed, so did racism. But what most South Africans are naïve about is that while apartheid was a form of governance that discriminated people based on colour, racism was (is) a state of mind. And while laws and systems of governance can be legislatively disintegrated, it is not as easy to deal with a person’s state of mind. The country wants to almost sweep the issue under the carpet, but centuries of oppression; first colonial then apartheid make that an impossible feat. This piece argues that racism has always been an issue among black and white South Africans. It has always been bubbling beneath the surface, something that people spoke about under their breath within their respective circles. Penny Sparrow[2] broke her silence, and she represents the opinions of many white South Africans. Velaphi Khumalo[3], in response to Penny Sparrow also represents the opinions of many black South Africans. Therefore I argue that black and white South Africans have reached a stalemate with regards to racism in South Africa. Both have reached a stage where neither is willing to budge from where they stand, therefore dialogue on the issue is of utmost importance.

Reconciliation was the gospel that was preached when South Africa had its first democratically elected president. Black South Africans had to find it within their hearts to forgive what apartheid had put them through. This was seen in the project of the TRC, the proponents of reconciliation almost pressured black South Africans into forgiving the atrocities of apartheid. One young black woman exclaimed: What makes me really angry about the TRC and Tutu is that they are putting pressure on us to forgive. For most black South Africans the TRC is about us having to forgive…the oppression was bad but what is much worse, what makes me more even more angry (sic) is that they are trying to dictate my forgiveness.[4]Because of how impatient reconciliation was, the forgiveness confessedby black South Africans was not earnest.They publicly expressed forgiveness but secretly nurtured resentment.  While white South Africans have expressed and continue to express regret for the atrocities of apartheid, it is also not true that all of them believe that they are equal with black people. If anything, the racist slurs that dominated social media conveyed that certain white South Africans do not want to share the amenities of the country with black South Africans. The comments have also showed that certain white South Africans have become apathetic about apartheid because they feel black people ought to be over it by now. For most white people, this is fueled by the belief that they did not take an active part in the apartheid regime, their ancestors did.

I therefore argue that black South Africans are still hanging on to anger and resentment because of apartheid. Not only because of the regime, but also because of its legacy that continues to give preferential treatment and thus unequal opportunities based on skin colour. Many of white South Africans show a lack of compassion by their insistence that black people are not willing to let go of the past. They feel that apartheid is now being blamed for every evil that happens in South Africa and are therefore tired of apologizing about the past. I contend that because of this, black and white South Africans find themselves in a stalemate. The country will not pay attention to this at its own peril. If the country is to heal, constructive and earnest conversations about race need to be created. We need not to be afraid to speak about colour, because currently, race almost seems like a taboo subject. All people; Black, White, Indian or Coloured, belong and are made in the image of God. The covenant between us and God is both vertical and horizontal[5], that while we have peace with God, we also must have peace amongst each other.We therefore need to have peace across our racial lines, and recognize each other as human beings, and not what colour our skin is.






[1] My reference to black and white bias in the article is neither statistical nor empirical, it is rather a phenomenological study.
[2] Referred to black people as monkeys. She commented that they flood the beaches and leave them in a dirty state.
[3] Stated that white South Africans needed to leave the country and that they should be treated like how Hitler treated the Jews.
[4] This was quoted from the Sunday Independent Newspaper, 6 December 1998.
[5] The symbol of the Cross.