By George Annandale
I cannot help the feeling of Déjà Vu when I watch the scenes of wild exuberance displayed by service delivery protests. I am overwhelmed by feelings of nostalgia when I see South Africans resolutely keeping the struggle alive, destroying useful things, ensuring we keep the revolutionaries on their toes and the counter-revolutionaries in their place. Images of the struggle, rolling mass action burning tyres will ensure feelings of guilt remain strong ensuring sympathy with the hurt of the oppressed.
The report on the causes of the current spate brings comfort that the ruling party has not lost its unique ability to pass the buck. Imagine the deviousness of the local municipalities to, openly and with contempt for the authority of their godly masters in the ANC stoking violence in the areas under their guardianship. Their behaviour can only be described as despicable.
I must admit that the way we often have to suffer, because of the inextricable ties we have with this Jonah of an organisation, the ANC and its partners, can be trying. Let’s face it; misfortune – despite their claims of being God's elected political representative in all of the universe – follows them around like a plague. First it was the Boers that stole their ground, then Dingaan killed Retief and everyone was quiet for a while, at least until the blood had washed the Zulu blood down Blood River to the sea. The English colonists seeing all this blood on Durban beach, decided to stop the pesky natives from polluting the beaches and attacked the offending Zulus.
The philanthropists, feeling the retaliation against the Zulus was a little excessive, whipped up the sympathy and the English toned the action down a bit amusing them by killing a few Boer women, children and babies – abandoned by their warmongering husbands. When the heat became a bit much they, the colonists, thinking it will take the heat of, handed the whole lot over to the Boers who promptly enslaved the Zulus, and all their other black tribes, not being able to distinguish between Zulu, Xhosa, Tswana or whatever.
Again the poor indigenous people were under the yoke, enslaved by the Boers this time around. For eighty odd years they struggled – struggled for air, for space, for recognition, for the right not to work, for the right to remain primitive and above all, the right to breed unhindered. This struggle gave rise to rolling mass action, strikes and burning tyres and flesh which led to the battle of CODESA where a great victory was won by the dapper strugglers, dressed in their Saville Row suits.
Just as they, the ANC, thought they had cast of the yoke of oppression they had to find, much to their shock and horror, they were enslaved by an intellectual African dwarf who subverted and corrupted the organisation to its core. After the battle of Polokwane which followed skirmishes in Khutsong and other places, the counter- revolutionaries were drummed out of the organisation and it was left whiter, no pun intended, than snow – God's chosen organisation.
Alas, peace was short-lived, the dust had hardly settled, after Jacob Zuma’s last Machine Gun Jive, when all hell broke loose with the resurrection of subversives and oppressors, this time hidden in the municipal structures, and, with them, the welcome and warming fragrance of burning tyres and palls of black smoke. Soon we will once again experience the mouth-watering aromas of burning human flesh.
Deployed, formerly loyal cadres have become disloyal. They are not delivering and they are stubbornly refusing to leave the positions they have been given. The President, once keen to face the mobs in Balfour, now pacifies the soldiers, praising their peacekeeping and HIV/Aids spreading ventures, whilst the municipal offices are burning – an insurance policy perhaps after calling them names because they exercised their right to strike? Luthuli House declared Mantashe’s intent to talk the masses but that initiative was cancelled at the last minute with Gwede not keen on risking the possibility of becoming a delicacy at an impromptu “Struggle Braai”.
The leaders, now unfairly, blamed, they would say, for non-delivery, shake their collective heads in wonder, not understanding the violent behaviour of their erstwhile followers. Surely this kind of behaviour was designed and should be reserved for the white oppressors, colonists and the Western Cape counter-revolutionary rogue government. How can these people expect delivery so soon, only two years after the battle of Polokwane and less than three years after Khutsong.
The same people who won the battle of Polokwane have turned into a multi-headed beast biting and tearing at itself and all those around it, some of the heads claim confusion, not quite understanding why their loyal devotees are now burning down buildings belonging to them. The cheerleaders at previous protests are now looking at their former comrades, not understanding why they behave in this way – strange days indeed, talk about changing fortunes.
Truly a Jonah, this ANC, with all the misfortune following it around. And as they say, misfortune does not come singly, so whilst the ANC exist, so will the misfortune. No wonder they have been able to elicit so much sympathy over the years. At least, chances are that as long as the misfortune continues, the sympathy with the plight of the oppressed masses and their leaders may continue and some of us, not me, will continue to feel guilty.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
By George Annandale