[Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro] possesses, however, few of his predecessor’s resources, lacking not just oil revenue but Chávez’s surplus of charisma, humour and political skill. Maduro, unable to end the crisis, has increasingly sided with the privileged classes against the masses; his security forces are regularly dispatched into barrios to repress militants under the guise of fighting crime. Having lost its majority in Congress, the government, fearing it can’t win at the polls the way Chávez did, cancelled gubernatorial elections that had been set for December last year (though they now appear to be on again). Maduro has convened an assembly to write a new constitution, supposedly with the objective of institutionalising the power of social movements, though it is unlikely to lessen the country’s polarisation.
Sometimes I think that culture – and not patriotism – is the last refuge of scoundrels. In
Thus same-sex marriage is said to be wrong because “it is not part of our culture”. White people who throw a hissy-fit about, say, Tony Yengeni slaughtering a bull after leaving prison are told to shut up “because this is part of our culture”. Afrikaners who sing that awful De la Rey song while waving the old South African flag, likewise claim a right to cultural expression.
Culture – like religion – is a powerful tool because culture is mostly presented in essentialist terms – as something solid and unchanging, something that forms part of the very being of the individual who claims its protection. “If you challenge my culture, you are denying my humanity.”
But culture is not fixed and essential. Culture is ever changing and we “invent” our culture as we go along. People who appeal to a cultural belief or practice often imply that this belief or practice goes back hundreds or even thousands of years. But if we did an effort to look into it, we would often discover that a cultural practice is really just a justification for the prejudices or beliefs of the person claiming cultural protection.
I was reminded of this when I read Cyril Madlala’s column in today’s Business Day. In the course of making an argument about why Joe Seremane would be out of place as leader of the DA he states that somebody who is imbued with the spirit of ubuntu would not have made remarks about Manto Tshabalala-Msimang dying in office. Then he continues:
Similarly, black South Africans, irrespective of political affiliation, generally expect everyone to respect the office of the president of the republic, whether they like the incumbent or not
Here Madladla is invoking a monolithic African culture to justify reverence for the President. This is patently absurd. Until 13 years ago
Given the politics of race in
This does not mean black people have a culture of respecting the office of the President. It merely means many black people in
It would come as a surprise to anyone who has studied the press statements of Zwelenzima Vavi and other Cosatu leaders or the garbled mutterings of the aging youngsters of the ANC Youth League to hear it is part of black culture to respect the office of the President.
Moreover to claim that it is part of black culture to respect the office of the President is deeply troubling in an open and democratic society. The President is the servant of the people and his office is thus that of a servant. He should respect us and then we may also respect him.
To claim respect is inherent in the culture is to try and take disrespect for the President and his position outside the boundaries of acceptable political discourse. But I think a discourse in which showing disrespect for a politician is beyond the pale, is not a democratic discourse but a patriarchal and oppressive discourse masquerading as essentialist culture.
Every time I hear people say “it is my culture”, what I really hear is: “shut up, you have no right to feel or say that!”BACK TO TOP