Archive for the ‘Stellenbosch’ Category
Five years ago, on a warm January day, I started a blog. I tend to forget detail easily, but I somehow vividly remember sitting at my desk, squeezed into a bedroom that was also a living room and home office space, and watching a hawk land on the small balcony. They say you have to write about what you see, so that is how I started my first post.
It’s five years later. Life is different. Helanya and I have moved twice since that day. We’ve travelled. I’ve graduated my first (soon to be two) student(s). But we’ve been fortunate, too, in that many things have not changed at all. We’ve attended many baby showers and few funerals. We’ve gained wonderful new friends through travelling. My students keep on inspiring me. And my colleagues and co-authors continue to have too much patience.
My blog has remained, too, although a long-time reader would recognise some change. As with most new things, I was productive initially, writing 10 posts in my first month. I soon realised I couldn’t keep up the pace, and the frequency declined to average between four and six posts. I blogged about many things that interested me, but Economics-related topics seemed to take precedence.
At the beginning of last year, I was offered a contract to write a bi-weekly column for Finweek magazine. Due to time and (more importantly) idea constraints, I began to post my columns as posts instead of writing altogether new posts. The result has been that the length of my posts has increased, but that the frequency has declined. It also means that the average number of visitors per day has declined somewhat. I would like to think that there is a quality-quantity trade-off, though. There is some evidence to support this claim: the number of permanently registered readers has continued to increase.
It’s strange to reread some of the posts that I wrote several years ago. They are recognisably me, but they are also different from how I would write about the same topic now. I guess that means that I’m learning. Or unlearning.
Or just growing older.
Blogging is a difficult business these days. What I had hoped to do when I started was to debate, to challenge, to offer a different, sometimes unpopular, perspective. But I have become less eager to do this, probably because I have lost some of my youthful big-eyed optimism, but mostly because of the uncritical social media platforms that now dominate public debate.
I would like to think the blog has had some impact, though. My 258 (this will the the 259th) posts have attracted 295 659 visitors to my site, who’ve read my posts 417 095 times. That is an unfathomable number, and much more than I could have hoped for. The large number is largely the result of one post I wrote – Why and what to study in South Africa – which I wrote in May 2013 and has since received more than 156 000 views. It also has 251 comments. The most views in one day actually come from a book review about Ken Follett’s Century trilogy. He retweeted the blog post, and I was swamped by visitors. Most of them were there for the images of the characters, which I had borrowed from someone else (with due credit, fortunately.) My favourite post? There are many that I like (of course), but I think the one that stands out is my response to Zuma’s remarks at the beginning of 2015.
This morning the Stellenbosch heavens finally opened up for some much-needed rain. I hear doves cooing, playing in the temporary ponds in our new flower bed. Perhaps they are descendants of the chicks that hatched five summers ago… (but then this will likely be the third or even fourth generation, as Google tells me that doves only have a 1.5-year lifespan in the wild.) It’s the start of a new year, a time when we tend to look to the future. And I wonder: Where will we be in another five years’ time?
This week the University of Sussex hosts the sixth African Economic History Network meetings. I’ve just arrived in Brighton for what will be a full programme of conferencing on Friday and Saturday, and meetings and discussions in-between. Our hosts, Alex Moradi and Felix Meier zu Selhausen, have done a splendid job of attracting more than 60 high-quality papers from a wide spectrum of economists and historians working on the African past. The full programme is available here.
This is an important moment for the field. Having grown rapidly over the last few years as younger scholars (mostly from Europe) embrace the field of quantitative African economic history, the annual meeting now provides a platform for many of them to showcase their work. Their passion and enterprise have uncovered new data sources, which have challenged long-held beliefs about topics like precolonial inequality, the economic causes underpinning the Scramble for Africa, the effects of missionary education, fiscal regimes, and many more.
But this can only be a beginning. As debates about decolonising curricula within South African universities raise legitimate concerns about challenging a Eurocentric view of African development, the challenge for the Network and for the broader research community is to expand the pool of researchers using these new sources and methods. African economic history, as I’ve written before, is a wonderful tool to contextualise the often ahistorical and acontextual economic theories that are the bedrock of economics courses. And while these formal models are necessary to allow students to evaluate economic policies and communicate their findings to an international audience, their interpretations must be informed by local histories and conditions. That is what a quantitative African economic history can do.
To dismiss the immense contribution the new breed of African economic historians that will congregate in Sussex has made is senseless. These scholars have spent many years reading and researching the African past, digitising precious historical sources, analysing trends and interpreting the African past based on new empirical results. These efforts have often also been associated with significant financial resources, which have allowed many sources to remain in the public domain. They have also written textbooks that are downloadable for free to African students.
My hope is that more African scholars can become participants in and contributors to these debates. Funding remains an issue, but so too a demand from African students. It would be wonderful, for example, to see more Masters dissertations at South African universities on African economic history questions. This is not always the students’ fault. As one of my own students recently reminded me, it is the responsibility of academic staff to instil in students an interest in the important and often difficult (and contentious) research questions of our time. What were the causes and consequences of slavery and colonialism in its many dimensions? Of colonial infrastructure and education? Of the IMF structural adjustment programmes and the debt cancellation and development aid? Of immigration and emigration? Of natural resources and sovereign wealth funds? Of genetically modified crops and robotics?
Hopefully the AEHN meetings at Sussex this week will pose some of these important and difficult questions. And when the seventh African Economic History Network meetings come around next year (in Stellenbosch), we will have a large pool of African students contributing answers – and new questions.
Last Friday at around noon, I ended a class on European settlement at the Cape and the demise of the Khoesan by lamenting the lack of public acknowledgement for some of the Cape’s most famous Khoe inhabitants. Autshumao was one of the first translators and interlopers between the trading Dutch and local Khoesan clans. Gonnema was a proud leader of the Cochoqua, who fought the Dutch in three Khoe-Dutch Wars. And then there was Krotoa, Autshumao’s niece, who was brought up by the Van Riebeecks. Here is her short Wikipedia bio:
On 3 May 1662 Krotoa was baptised by a visiting parson, minister Petrus Sibelius, in the church inside the Fort de Goede Hoop. The witnesses were Roelof de Man and Pieter van der Stael. On 26 April 1664 she married a Danish surgeon by the name of Peter Havgard, whom the Dutch called Pieter van Meerhof. She was thereafter known as Eva van Meerhof. She was the first Khoikoi to marry according to Christian customs. There was a little party in the house of Zacharias Wagenaer. In May 1665, they left the Cape and went to Robben Island, where van Meerhof was appointed superintendent. The family briefly returned to the mainland in 1666 after the birth of Krotoa’s third child, in order to baptize the baby. Van Meerhoff was murdered on Madagascar on 27 February 1668 on an expedition.
Krotoa returned to the mainland on 30 September 1668 with her children. Suffering from alcoholism, she left the Castle in the settlement to be with her family in the kraals. In February 1669 she was imprisoned at the Castle and then banished to Robben Island. She returned to the mainland on many occasions just to find herself once more banished to Robben Island. In May 1673 she was allowed to baptise a child on the mainland. Three of her children survived infancy. She died on 29 July 1674 in the Cape and was buried on 30 September 1674 in the church in the Fort,
Pieternella and Salamon, Krotoa’s two youngest children from her marriage to van Meerhof, were taken to Mauritius in 1677. Pieternella, who was known as Pieternella Meerhof or Pieternella van die Kaap, later married Daniel Zaaijman, a VOC vegetable farmer from Vlissingen. They had four sons and four daughters, one of whom was named Eva, and the family moved back to the Cape in 1706.
I ended my class by suggesting the students consider these local figures when they think about renaming campus buildings, as had happened last year during the #FeesMustFall movement. What I had not known, was that at that exact moment, Krotoa’s spirit was returned to the Castle of Good Hope where her remains had been removed from a century ago. Here’s the news report:
Gathered around a tree at the Groote Kerk, they [traditional and religious leaders] burned an incense plant and beckoned for her soul to rise from the unmarked grave where her bones had been held.
Her remains had been removed from the grounds of the Castle of Good Hope, nearly a century after she was buried there.
On Friday, some of her descendants returned with her spirit to the castle.
A few months ago, after uncovering an old computer file that contained my genealogy, I discovered that the wife of my paternal great-grandfather – Wynand Breytenbach Fourie – was one Johanna Beatrix Fourie. Her maiden name: Zaaiman.
Many other South Africans also descend from Krotoa. It is in the math – here’s Stephen Fry on the topic. Almost all white South Africans today must have some non-European heritage, given the women of Khoe or slave (especially) origin who married Dutch or German or French (or, in Krotoa’s case, Danish) men at an early stage in the country’s history.
Although several novels have appeared that feature her – most famously Dan Sleigh’s Eilande and Dalene Matthee’s Pieternella van die Kaap – Krotoa, and the tumultuous times she lived in, has been largely neglected from popular discourse. Fortunately, that is changing. In the ceremony on Friday, she was variously described as a child labourer, a feminist, and a language fighter who helped create Afrikaans, even a martyr. An Afrikaans/Nama movie that feature her life is now in post-production stage. Armand Aucamp plays Jan van Riebeeck and Crystal Donna Roberts an older Krotoa.
But more should certainly be done. Monuments and renamed buildings and public places can play a role, but because Krotoa’s story is claimed by so many (as Heritage Consulatant Tracy Randle explains in this interview), these memorials will remain contested. Some activitists protested outside the Castle on Friday, for example. Last year, a bench which had Krotoa’s face engraved in mosaic art, and which was located at Krotoa Place, the small square at the intersection of Castle Street and St George’s Mall, was destroyed.
Much like 350 years ago, Krotoa embodies the tragedy and disillusionment but also the hopes and aspirations of our fractured society. Unshackled to anyone or any group, hers is our story.
Or, as Lara Kirsten observes in her poem Vir Krotoa (For Krotoa):
in haar skyn die hoop
wat nog by ons mense spook
(in her shines the hope that still frightens our people)
In Afrikaans, the same word is used for ‘vote’ and ‘voice’ – stem. Today South Africans vote in the local government elections. But it is more than that: it is a day that they will voice their hopes, frustrations, and visions for a better South Africa.
Because, 22 years into democracy, there is now more than ever a need to signal to the ruling alliance that they cannot take their tenure for granted. There is no doubt that those in power have become too emboldened by their own success; weak political competition has provided fertile ground for corruption and mismanagement. As always, the squandering of public funds has hurt the poorest the most.
Although this won’t be an election about macro policy, the failure of the ANC (since Zuma) to stimulate growth (and its incompetence to root out corruption) will deliver more votes for the two opposition parties, the DA and the EFF. The two central questions are: which opposition party will voters prefer, and how many will make the switch? The two parties are run by young men with very different visions of a future South Africa.
In this election, the question should be which of the two can provide the services that constituents deserve. But a careful consideration of this question, unfortunately, is probably not how most of us make decisions. This is not unique to South Africa, of course. As this John Oliver excerpt shows, feelings, nowadays, trump facts. Also: see Brexit.
Today’s municipal elections will be especially heavily contested in three metropolitan areas: Nelson Mandela Bay, Tshwane and Johannesburg. If an opposition party (or a coalition of opposition parties) secures a win in these major cities, especially in Tshwane and Johannesburg, it will signal a fundamental shift in politics in South Africa. But don’t underestimate the resolve of the ruling ANC: the liberation movement continue to be a powerful brand for most South Africans, despite the actions of the man in charge.
Today is stemdag in South Africa. It is a day to vote, yes, but, most importantly, it is a day to make our voices heard.
The economics curriculum at South African universities is in crisis, claims Ihsaan Bassier, an honours student at UCT. He writes that UCT’s curriculum is ‘largely abstracted from South Africa’s economic crisis and reinforces an anti-poor understanding of policies’. He explains:
Economics is presented as an amoral subject, only examining mechanistic questions and optimising efficiency. If it is amoral, why is so little attention given to heterodox thought? Capitalism arbitrarily privileges those with money over others in the most violent form possible, through a system of class protection, marginalisation of the poor and gross injustice. Rather than being amoral, undergraduate economics in fact promotes a horrible moral: that “rationality” is defined as profit-maximisation and that the point of departure is our violent system. Students are trained to be apologists for capitalism and alternatives are marginalised.
It is both bad economics and anti-poor for students to be bombarded with arguments that government intervention and minimum wages are “bad”. Social benefits are blamed for unemployment, as if it is preferable to allow people to starve; regulation is demonised, as if unfettered business would solve South Africa’s economic problems. Some attention is eventually given to market failure, but only as a token.
Why do we not learn more seriously about other systems and behaviours, about technical aspects of socialism and redistribution, about power, about how racism interacts with capitalism, the pervasiveness of rent and out-of-equilibrium dynamics, or an endless number of alternatives that my education has not exposed me to?
UCT’s curriculum is quite similar to that of Stellenbosch, where I teach. So let me respond to these rather big accusations, and then make a suggestion.
Capitalism arbitrarily privileges those with money over others in the most violent form possible. Economics equips students with a set of tools that allow them to explain the world around them. One of those tools is statistical analysis, which means we can test a hypothesis – like the above statement – with evidence from the real world. And unfortunately for Ihsaan, the real world evidence is pretty clear on this one: capitalism, a system based on the principle of individual rights, has created remarkable economic freedom for humanity over the last three centuries. Consider this: the real income of the median person in the world doubled in the period between 2003 and 2013, a period that included a financial crisis. In 1981 more than half the people in the world lived in absolute poverty. Today, it is less than 20%. It is simply wrong to declare, without proof, that capitalism arbitrarily privileges those with money. Millions of Indians, and Chinese and, yes, Africans too, have higher living standards than their parents did, and that is highly correlated with more market activity, not less. (In fact, privileging arbitrarily is exactly what communism does, by removing people’s individual freedoms and choices. Just ask the Latvians or any other Eastern Europeans who suffered its consequences.)
That is not to say that everything about capitalism is great. Capitalism is not one thing – it morphs into different forms depending on the political and social context. Capitalism in America is certainly more unfettered than capitalism in, say, France. And there is certainly space for more debate about the type of capitalism we need in South Africa.
But those debates need to be based on sound theories and falsifiable evidence. Economic policy arguments – Is a higher minimum wage better for the poorest? Do social benefits lead to unemployment? Does regulation impede growth? – are all empirical questions, one that economists’ statistical toolkits can answer. Yes, we have theories about how the world works, but as Dani Rodrik explains in his excellent new book, Economics Rules, there is not one single (better) theory, but a menu of theories that economists can use to understand their world. Think of a theory (or a model) as a map. There is no single map that explains everything. Sometimes you need a world map just to look at countries. Sometimes you need a street map to take you to your destination. Other times you need a map of the soil quality if you want to sow for the coming season. Economists’ models are the same. We use different models in different contexts, and what makes a really good economist is picking the right model for the right question.
Here, Ihsaan’s critique is valid. In first and second year, the emphasis is too much on a single theory (or model) of the world, the standard, neoclassical theory. There are good reasons for this, of course: it is mathematically tractable and provides a solid base for understanding basic human interaction. And that is exactly why it is a good platform for understanding why it does not work in every setting: the assumptions are strong but they are also explicit. Relax some of those assumptions, and the results change. This is exactly how we come to improve our understanding of the world. (In my class, I discuss these assumptions in the South African context and ask the students whether they may or may not hold. That is, I’ve found, how students actually gain a better understanding of the complexities of the problems we have in South Africa, and an appreciation for the tools of economics, of modeling and statistical testing, to solve them.) But a more explicit treatment of the menu of theories economists have at their disposal is necessary.
Ihsaan offers three solutions to solve the curriculum conundrum: 1) admit that we are in a crisis, 2) allocate time to a topic in proportion to its importance in our context, 3) include topics such as poverty, unemployment and inequality from the first year. He fears that too many students leave Economics after only one or two years, without understanding the nuances of the models.
What undergraduate Economics begins to do is equip students with the analytical tools to investigate the important topics of our era. Students need the basic skills of mathematical and statistical analyses to be able to empirically test the questions we are all concerned about. To make it more practical: Debating poverty in South Africa is very difficult if your opponent has no idea how to calculate a ‘poverty line’ or ‘median income’. Or the impact of a higher interest rate with someone who has no idea what the monetary transmission mechanism is. Or the impact of an increase in VAT with someone who has never heard about tax incidence. That is why we need those first three years.
And yes, many students leave after only two years. True, they will have a limited understanding of Economics. But no one expects me to be a psychologist with just Psychology 1, or fluent in French with just French 2. This is why we need to encourage more students to enroll for Economics graduate degrees, and why we need to expose them to more analytical tools, not fewer. We cannot afford to have a society where economic policy is not informed by sound economic analysis undertaken by well-trained, analytical economists. Undergraduate Economics – with the emphasis on rigorous analytical training in microeconomics and macro-economics – needs to stay. This not only gives a solid toolkit for those who want just the ‘essence’ of Economics, but it also allows students to continue with graduate Economics, not only in South Africa but elsewhere. And as I’ve said before, to get into US universities requires a lot of analytical skills.
But I also understand the need for more context, for thinking and discussing the very real material problems that South Africans face. So, I have another solution for Ihsaan, one that betrays my biases: We can look to the past to help us understand today’s problems, and we can look to what the brightest minds have thought about solving these complex problems. In short, we can do more to encourage Economic History and the History of Economic Thought as analytical tools of their own to make sense of today’s development problems.
Ihsaan is fortunate: UCT does have a good undergraduate economic history programme, and a wonderful third-year class in the History of Economic Thought. Global and African economic history provides us with an understanding of the historical roots of poverty, inequality and unemployment; the past does not only explain the present, as one colleague notes, but it is analogous to the present. The History of Economic Thought is concerned with philosophers’ (or theorists’) ideas about solving the economic problem, including philosophers that were very much in favour of socialism. If the neoclassical model is a country-map, the History of Economic Thought is a map of the world, showing how neoclassical thinking evolved and why it became the dominant model.
At Stellenbosch, we have created an entire course in the second year to investigate past and contemporary economic development. One semester of Economics 281 starts with the Neolithic Revolution (circa 8000 BCE) and ends with the Economics of Apartheid. The other semester considers all kinds of current development policies, with a specific focus on South Africa. I see Economics 281 as complementary to the standard Economics courses. You cannot have the one without the other.
You do not decolonise a curriculum by removing content. If you do that, you deny students the opportunity to participate in global debates and the global job market. You decolonise by adding more context and diversity. We advance science by standing on the shoulders of giants. Decolonisation done right can add more shoulders to stand on.
Much has been said about South Africa’s economic situation in recent months. Even more has been written about the underlying ills that explain everything from protests at universities to the persistent poverty in the former homelands. This piece by Raymond Suttner, a principled intellectual who paid a heavy price – seven years in jail – for his political activities during apartheid, perhaps best exemplifies the tomes of op-ed pieces trying to make sense of the situation.
And then Dan de Kadt*, an MIT student in Political Science, wrote the following on Facebook in response to the Suttner piece:
In my opinion this is the type of article we need fewer of in South Africa. Not because Raymond Suttner is fundamentally “wrong”, but because this article is a platitudinous summary of what we already know. And somehow it even gets the summary wrong, by being deeply non-empirical.
1) Pretty much everyone who is not a racist bigot (e.g. all those white folks posting on “White Genocide” groups or commenting on News24) knows that South Africa is still living through the legacies of Apartheid – political, sociological, economic, geographic, etc. The structural challenges facing people in South Africa clearly cut along race lines, and the consequences of that are deeply troubling. Egregious inequality, limited inter-generational mobility, social violence, state violence, etc, all following racial lines. It is anecdotally obvious, and empirically obvious too, if you bother to look at actual data.
But understand that the racist bigots aren’t going to change their opinions because of the nth article stating these facts, no matter how well written or persuasive it is. Trying to convince Apartheid dinosaurs is a fruitless (and actually unnecessary) enterprise.
2) While the above claims are undeniable, they are also stylized – they are generalizations and simplifications. As Suttner points out, a lot of progress has been made since 1994. But then he turns around and says things like “Black people’s life opportunities are little different from that of their parents.” On average, that’s simply false for any reasonable definition of “little different”. And it’s obviously false if you just look at the (slow, but real) emergence of the black middle class, a group that tends to be young and upwardly mobile. There’s ample census and labour force data that backs this up – for black South Africans there is better inter-generational mobility now than before, and income and wealth are slowly (far too slowly) being redistributed to the emerging urban black middle class.
The same is true of many many things in post-1994 South Africa. Electricity, water, sewerage, refuse collection access? Virtually non-existent for black South Africans in 1994, much more existent now. If you actually bother to look for it, we have the data needed to examine where the country is failing and where it is not, where Apartheid persists, and where it does not. That is what we need from our public intellectuals, rather than endless repetitive platitudes about how “things are essentially the same”.
3) The failure to recognize this subtler empirical reality means that Suttner fails to capture emergent intra-race class cleavages. There are indeed many young black South Africans whose opportunities/lives are as limited/horrifying as their parents’ were. But these are, for the most part, not students at universities (certainly not UCT). They are, for the most part, not the people participating in RMF or FMF. They are the children of some 17 million exclusively black (read almost half) South Africans who are still forced to live in, essentially, Apartheid-era Bantustans, the only parts of the country where service provision is systematically worse now than it was in 1996. They are the children who eagerly went to school in grade 1 only to find their teacher absent 3/5 days a week. They are that young man on the trash heap while Gareth and Dali walk by laughing. An entirely contrary reading of the RMF/FMF movement is that it is an expression of the emergent black middle class, and its ignoring of (not to say dislike of, or indifference to) the plight of those who remain “below” them. Free university? For whom, the 5%?
4) What this country needs is intellectuals who write articles that explain how to FIX the legacies we’ve inherited. Suttner gives us a brief paragraph about how “we could have done better” on NSFAS because “other places have”. Like where!? Tell us!? That’s valuable f*cking information! Problems in the education system limit black South Africans prospects? No sh*t! Now, please tell us how you think we should fix it, or at least start a debate about how to fix it, preferably one based on actual evidence.
There are so many brilliant minds in this country, and so many brilliant ideas worldwide about how to address the kinds of problems we face. Our problems are not unique. But all we deserve, it seems, is yet another article from a celebrated public intellectual telling us what’s wrong (and with little empirical evidence to back it up, to boot).
Diagnosing the ills of South Africa in broad strokes is, to be honest, extremely straightforward. Apartheid makes it so. What we need are bright minds and public intellectuals leading empirically grounded debates about policy and about how to fix the problems we (smart/not-bigoted people) know exist.
Yes, yes, and yes! First, this is why South Africa’s best and brightest students should study fields (and equip themselves with tools) that will allow them to address these serious questions. Second, we need to expect more of our public intellectuals. A research paper or policy document or even an op-ed cannot simply be a few bundled ideas and theories without empirical proof. Third, there is way too much emphasis in South Africa on who says something, rather than what is being said. Science should be anonymous. Regardless of the nationality, gender or religion of the scientists, if results are falsifiable and repeatable, then they are all that matters. This is not entirely the case in the social sciences, because the real world is not a laboratory. But empirically-grounded research where social scientists analyse large data sets of household earnings, voter behaviour or race relations, for example, depend less on who is doing the research and more on what is being done. To use one example: we don’t care about the nationality, gender or religious orientation of the researcher who showed that less than 9% of South Africans use state-sponsored public transport (trains and buses) to get to work. Instead, we care about what this finding tells us about the inefficient transport system in South Africa, and the policies that could best fix it. I accept that not all research is quantitative, and that not everything can be reflected in numbers. (I’m an economic historian; sometimes numbers just don’t exist.) But what we should be cautious of is opinion (i.e. arguments not grounded in empirics). The ease of publication these days means that opinion often gets more attention than it deserves.
Dan’s last sentence is therefore indeed very important, so let me repeat it: What we need are bright minds and public intellectuals leading empirically grounded debates about policy and about how to fix the problems we know exist.
Can South Africa’s empirically-minded public intellectuals please stand up?
*I asked Dan’s permission to quote him. I tried to cut, but it was all just very good, and very valid. Thanks Dan.
On Sunday, Helanya and I flew back to Utrecht after a wonderful few weeks in South Africa. I had time to catch up with friends and colleagues, meet with students, organise the final ERSA Economic History workshop in Cape Town, and even play a two-day game of cricket. And, of course, do some shopping for the wintery months ahead, including four bottles of blatjang and new hiking shoes to break in during the next three months for a Camino walk I plan to do in May.
I must admit, I was skeptical of the sentiment I would encounter on my return to South Africa. The end of 2015 was not a great time for the country, most directly (for those of us residing in foreign countries, at least) reflected in the rapidly-depreciating currency. The president’s expulsion of Finance Minister Nene, the prolonged protests at universities, and even the poor performance of the Proteas proliferated the pessimism. And the start of 2016, characterised by vitriolic social media slurs, seemed to not augur much hope that 2016 would be any better.
And then we returned and fell in love with our own people all over again. The food, the sun, the languages, the opportunities. Bright students with bright ideas. A we-are-the-change-we-want-to-see-in-this-world attitude. When I was a student, apathy in student affairs was the main issue of the day. Not anymore.
That is not to say that all is well. Even through our over-nostalgic senses, we could feel the disappointment in the status quo, the hunger for a better South Africa. Race is at the forefront of national debates again. As I wrote last year, the narrow focus on race distorts the ‘remarkable story of courage, determination, perseverance and triumph-against-all-odds’ that black South Africans have written since the end of apartheid. By focusing on race, whites are made a co-author of a story that is not theirs to tell. And this remarkable story of self-empowerment continues, although some would argue for more abbreviated chapters.
More can be done, of course, to increase opportunities for all South Africans. It would help if the patronage politics that have become so endemic are tempered – how, I don’t know. It would help if we can encourage South Africans to start businesses that can sell to an outside world now eager to buy cheap South African products. It would help if we can provide quality education to kids that are currently excluded. But we should not dismiss the incredible achievements we have made too easily.
Yesterday I attended a workshop in Amsterdam. Some of the participants were from Sweden and Finland, two countries I have long admired for their open and innovative policies, and over lunch we discussed the immigrant situation across Europe. I knew, of course, about the rise in anti-immigrant sentiment, and the increase in right-wing activity, but I was surprised to hear about their own experiences: large anti-immigrant demonstrations that have strong racist undertones; academics receiving threats when they take a pro-immigrant stance; militias in the streets exercising mob justice.
It is easy to get pessimistic about South Africa when the State of the Nation is as fresh as a forgotten yogurt in a college dorm room. We have serious issues that need to be addressed fast. But we are not alone. Issues of exclusion, discrimination and repression exist in some of the world’s most enlightened (and educated) countries, issues that are unlikely to be resolved soon and may spill over into even worse forms of exclusion and violence.
Our walk to freedom and social justice may be long and winding, but at least our shoes are already broken in.