When it comes to politics, one hidden rule tends to dominate South African debate, to the extent that it is almost hegemonic in the depth and breadth of its hold over public analysis: false moral equivalence.
It manifests primarily with regard to any comparison between the ANC and DA. In generic terms, the line is this: “Yes, the ANC has problems, but the DA has problems too — and thus, a pox on both their houses”. Either that, or: “Given both parties are morally flawed, best to support the ANC purely for pragmatic reasons — it is bigger, mostly likely to win and so, while compromised, best to invest in its potential reformation.”
But it hasn’t always been like this.
The phenomenon that was Jacob Zuma’s ruinous tenure makes the point. He was swept to power with a super-majority. In his wake he consolidated the alliance behind him, rode a tidal wave of popular sentiment and, as a result, his grip on the ANC and the national administration bordered on absolute.
However, although the constitutional threat he represented was initially missed or misunderstood, it was quickly recognised and, over the course of his time in office, all comers — many in the media, the public, the alliance, the opposition and even the ANC itself — came to realisation he was the root cause of the decay and destruction. He needed to go.
This collective realisation saw the suppression of the generally ubiquitous false moral equivalence that preceded it. The DA, for one, was temporarily imbued with the requisite moral authority necessary for it to help lead the fight. If it called Zuma a “broken man”, it set newspaper front pages on fire. If it achieved something in government, it was held aloft not only as virtuous, but as a convenient weapon to further damn the Zuma administration. If it exposed any wrong doing, it was celebrated as an alternative to the evil regime.
It was a glorious period for the idea of opposition. Whatever the damage Zuma wrought, for eight years, the country embodied the kind of democratic attitude the new South African dream was founded upon.
It was, however, just a bubble. And it fooled everyone. The DA, in particular, came to believe its newfound respect was a consequence of its virtuous fight. It was not. It was, inevitably, just a useful idiot, and its respect a temporary convenience. There was no real appetite for actual democratic change, merely reform of the ANC. And when, with the election of Cyril Ramaphosa, that desire was given a metaphor to attach to, all the old ways of thinking quickly returned.
The DA’s moral authority evaporated overnight. It was reduced almost instantaneously to an also-ran, and all those dissenting tributaries that had broken away from the singular raging torrent that was the once-mighty ANC began to change course and consolidate, so that once again they might join up and reintegrate themselves into the one true river, in thought and deed.
“Thuma Mina” is not a call merely to action; it is an invitation to think a certain way. And many have happily offered up their intellectual integrity, that they might heed the siren call and once again enjoy the numbing embrace of the ANC hive mind.
But what was remarkable about the Zuma period was not just the illusion that SA was, in fact, something more than a de facto one-party state, it was the belief in principle and that, through determination and sheer force of will, against incredible political odds, Zuma’s hold on the country could be broken. Back then, public debate did not lack for imagination, even if in reality it was limited to an ANC universe.
In 2009, it was but a fantasy, advocated by a few true believers, of which the DA was one. By 2014, and with 62% for the ANC, it was an impossible dream. By the time 2016 rolled round, and the collapse of ANC governments in Johannesburg, Tshwane and Nelson Mandela Bay, it was a remote possibility and then, relatively quickly, by 2017, it was a very real scenario, soon to be actually realised.
How so many journalists and commentators — the primary drivers of public debate — fought. They put everything on the line. They were brave and relentless and focused and they believed, against belief itself, that change was possible. They invested in principle and stood by it in the face of contempt, aggression and denigration. They held the line.
Today that is all gone. Today, hope rests in the ANC. Forget principle, we are told, the ANC is going to win. Be realistic.
There is no element of the DA’s track record that does not decimate that of the ANC’s. It creates jobs; the ANC wipes jobs out. It runs clean governments; the ANC destroys governments. It has a fallout with Patricia de Lille, the ANC has a commission of inquiry into how its members are literally assassinating each other.
The party is far from perfect. It’s a strategic mess at the moment. Its leader is a nebbish. It doesn’t own any issues. It is now intellectually hollowed out and battling to get a grip on some very complex governments. But then so is the ANC, and it’s had 25 years.
Yet, on the core fundamentals, on service delivery, clean government, the economy, education, budget spend, transparency, many others besides, it is simply in a different league. In each it has problems, it could do better, sure, but the comparison with the ANC is really not a comparison at all. On the facts, it is not so much night and day as it is to juxtapose altogether different universes.
It counts for nothing. The DA's errors are escalated to catastrophes, its shortcomings turned into disasters and its mistakes transformed into world-ending implosions. And so the great age of false moral equivalence has returned. In the final analysis, the DA is measured against perfection; the ANC is measured against its own failures. Because the ANC’s failures are total, it can only ever succeed. Because the DA is not perfect, it can only ever fail.
You wonder what happened to all that bravery so many displayed in the face of the all-consuming political monolith that was Jacob Zuma. How did so many who put principle and what is right before power and pragmatism become so meek and pathetically expedient? And you wonder too: were they ever really brave at all?
The explanation is a simple and brutal one: guilt. Many are in the grip of the ultimate hegemonic illusion. It is binary and it is born of the ANC: the ANC is “black” and the DA is “white”. And to say the ANC has failed is to say “black people” have failed. And to say the DA is a viable alternative is to say “white people” are more competent. It is, of course, a profound nonsense. Nevertheless, entire worldviews are post rationalised to make sure they comply with this hidden rule, and that rationality be held hostage by it.
It is torturous watching this guilt manifest as ostensible argument. False moral equivalence is how it is done. It is the psychological mechanism that allows the weak and superficial to maintain the pretence the ANC and the DA occupy the same position on the moral spectrum.
But it is the way of things. And perhaps we all need to reconcile ourselves with this fact: South African public debate is closed to alternatives for the foreseeable future. Sure, we will pay homage to the idea: an opposition government is a useful concept — but really only to keep the ANC on its toes. In the same way, good governance is a nice mirror to hold up to the ANC, to remind it how best to behave.
But when it comes to actual power, after 25 years of destruction, of HIV/AIDS denial, foreign affairs disgraces, the destruction of our electricity supply, the ravaging of local government, the universal plunder of state resources, economic implosion, record levels of unemployment, the abomination that is basic education, a healthcare system on the brink of collapse, Marikana and Life Esidimeni, 500,000 people murdered and a thousand other ethical horrors, we must believe in the ANC. Because it is going to win, you understand? We must be realistic.
The ANC has killed many things in its first 25 years, but far and away its greatest victory was the day it killed SA’s democratic imagination. The good news is, most people seem to be on board another 25 years. The idea that another SA could exist, whatever its shortcomings — and there would be many — is simply a bridge too far. That is, if they can even see the bridge.
Audre Lorde wrote: “Guilt is not a response to anger; it is a response to one’s own actions or lack of action. If it leads to change then it can be useful, since it is then no longer guilt but the beginning of knowledge. Yet all too often, guilt is just another name for impotence, for defensiveness destructive of communication; it becomes a device to protect ignorance and the continuation of things the way they are, the ultimate protection for changelessness.” Now there is a thought.
• Van Onselen is the head of politics and governance at the South African Institute of Race Relations
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