Latest news with #Szymborska
Daily Maverick
5 days ago
- Politics
- Daily Maverick
National Dialogue will not restore trust in SA's government, nor fix a dysfunctional, corrupt state
I have been thinking a lot lately about the Polish author Wislawa Szymborska's poem 'The End and the Beginning'. Szymborska, who died in 2012, was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1996 'for poetry that with ironic precision allows the historical and biological context to come to light in fragments of human reality'. In 'The End and the Beginning' Szymborska rather optimistically suggests that even in a society recovering from a catastrophic event like a war, there might come a time when memories of the war have faded, a time when: 'In the grass that has overgrown causes and effects, someone must be stretched out blade of grass in his mouth gazing at the clouds.' But before that can happen, somebody has to do the work; the work of repairing the bridges and getting the trains running again, as well as (I would add) the even more difficult work of restitution and repair, a task that falls largely on the perpetrators and beneficiaries of the injustice. The first part of the poem reads as follows: 'After every war someone has to clean up. Things won't straighten themselves up, after all. Someone has to push the rubble to the side of the road, so the corpse-filled wagons can pass. Someone has to get mired in scum and ashes, sofa springs, splintered glass, and bloody rags. Someone has to drag in a girder to prop up a wall. Someone has to glaze a window, rehang a door. Photogenic it's not, and takes years. All the cameras have left for another war. We'll need the bridges back, and new railway stations. Sleeves will go ragged from rolling them up.' I have been thinking about this poem while observing the disaster branded as a 'National Dialogue' stuttering into life. The National Dialogue is commencing at a time when South Africa can hardly be said to have a functioning government. At a time, in fact, when it can seem as if hardly any of the work of government is being done well, or done at all. From afar, the multiparty coalition government (branded as the Government of National Unity, or GNU) resembles a hodgepodge of warring parties involved in hand-to-hand political combat, eager to convince their core constituencies that they disdain, even hate, their political opponents serving with them in government just as much as their core constituents disdain and hate these opponents. (The ANC's core constituency seems to be its National Executive Committee, the tenderpreneurs who finance the party, and perhaps the party bosses who control the votes of the 4,500 delegates who will elect a new party leader, while the DA's core constituency seems to be Helen Zille, Donald Trump, Afrikaner political pressure groups and the party's large donors.) It is not that unusual for coalition governments to be fractious, but it is absurd that the coalition parties in the 'GNU' have not agreed on even the semblance of a policy platform. No wonder this year's Budget was only passed on its third attempt. Perhaps more importantly, large parts of the state bureaucracy and pivotal parts of the state, including the SA Police Service, the public health system and large parts of the public schooling system, are riddled with corruption and close to dysfunctional. I can't imagine even the most ardent supporters of the National Dialogue will claim that it will do anything to fix this fundamental problem. National Development Plan Thirteen years ago, the then government adopted the National Development Plan, also agreed upon after extensive dialogue, which identified many of the causes of this government dysfunction. Had the plan been implemented, South Africa would by now have had a professional and well-functioning government bureaucracy. Not only was the plan never implemented, but most government ministries never even bothered to pretend that they were implementing it. Why anyone would believe the National Dialogue will lead to a different outcome is unclear. It is difficult not to conclude that the dialogue is an idiotic and self-indulgent scheme cooked up by decadent elites untethered from reality, or greedy to share in the spoils of the lucrative consultancy work no doubt being generated by the jamboree. We are told that the National Dialogue will provide an opportunity for all South Africans, from all walks of life, to come together to find common ground and forge a new social compact to rebuild trust, to address deep-seated issues like inequality and social divisions, and to promote unity among citizens. The key word here is 'trust'. Trust in government and political parties is at its lowest level since the advent of democracy in SA. Last year, fewer than half of eligible voters bothered to cast their vote in the national election, suggesting that many South Africans have lost hope and do not feel they have a voice in how they are governed. Many are profoundly sceptical that our Parliament and our government will do what is required to improve the quality of their lives. These voters will remain voiceless, no matter how 'inclusive' the National Dialogue process might be. As Professor Steven Friedman recently argued, previous exercises seeking to hear what people at the grassroots have to say have shown that while the voices of some people will be heard, this is not the same as 'the people' being heard. 'At best, they will be those who are good at sounding as if they speak for most people, even when they don't. At worst, they will be local power holders who are able to present themselves as the voice of 'the community' because they have bullied all the other voices into silence.' Even if this were not the case, the problem would remain that trust cannot be restored through talking alone. It can only be restored through action that improves the lives of people, by a state that does not treat citizens like a nuisance or a problem to be managed or ignored. For that to happen, we would need to transform the state into a competent, caring, responsive one, headed by a competent, caring and responsive government. A fine sentiment It is not that I disagree with the general sentiment that it would be a good thing for all South Africans from all walks of life to come together to find common ground, to agree on a set of shared values and beliefs, or at least for us to recognise our interdependence and the need for social solidarity. South Africa, with its colonially drawn borders, its history of conquest and racial oppression, its deeply entrenched divisions along lines of class, race, language and culture, and its obscene inequality, remains at best a nation yet to come into existence, a nation we are sometimes tricked into believing already exists during 'nation-building' events like the 2010 Soccer World Cup, or the relatively diverse Springbok Rugby team winning the World Cup. This makes it more difficult for politicians to earn or keep the trust of large numbers of citizens, and thus the country more difficult to govern. Promoting unity among citizens as well as artificial 'nation-building' processes will not change this. In any event, I find the desire for unity among citizens a bit creepy and more than a little authoritarian. In a healthy democracy, the system of government is designed to ensure that pluralism is managed, not suppressed. But I do yearn to live in a society where it would at least be possible to imagine that every human being has boundless value, as having the same value as the life of every other person, no matter how famous, rich or powerful they are. But perhaps this is not exactly right. In his novel 'Small Rain', Garth Greenwell speculates that 'if every human life makes a claim upon the world, for resources, possibility, regard, love, that is infinite in its legitimacy, if each of the billions of human lives has that much value, then of course we can't bear to live' in it. It would be unbearable, he writes, 'as unbearable as the thought of all we betray in failing it'. So perhaps what I am saying is that I yearn to live in a world where such a betrayal would feel unbearable. In such a world, social solidarity would be possible. But I am sceptical that this kind of elite-driven dialogue can even begin to facilitate the conversation about what common ground we share, and what true social solidarity might look like and might require of us. It requires work — not only words, but also deeds — it requires people from different classes and races and cultures coming together, organising and mobilising and doing all the other types of work required to achieve common political goals in the face of a heartless state and powerful private sector actors for whom social solidarity would remain a swear word — no matter what they might say or pledge at (presumably VIP) National Dialogue events. But why work, when all you needed to do was to dialogue until the cows come home, and hope that somebody else, anybody but yourself, would push the rubble to the side of the road so the corpse-filled wagons could pass? DM
Al-Ahram Weekly
26-01-2025
- Entertainment
- Al-Ahram Weekly
The case against book reviews: On how and where average book reviewer misses the point - News
On the occasion of the Cairo International Book Fair, Ahram Online shares reviews of recently published non-fiction titles. Qera'ah Gheir Molzema Translated by Iman Mersal (Non-Required Reading) Wislawa Szymborska, Al-Kotob Khan, Pp 170 Something is romantic and graceful about the text and spirit of the book 'Non-Required Reading," a prose which appears in Arabic under 'Qera'ah Gheir Molzema." The book was originally written in Polish by Wislawva Szymborska, a Polish poet and writer who lived from 1923 to 2012. In 1996, Szymborska received the Nobel Prize in literature. In 1953, Szymborska joined the staff of the literary review magazine Życie Literackie (Literary Life), where she continued to work until 1981 and from 1968 had a book review column. Many of her essays from this period were later published in book form. Non-Required Reading, a title from the literary column that Szymborska observed for four consecutive decades, was published in 1992. Iman Mersal, an Egyptian poet and writer, is the book's translator. This is Mersal's third translation after 'A Beer in the Snooker's Club' by Egyptian writer Waguih Ghali and 'A Fly in the Soup,' the memoir of Charles Simic, the Serbian American poet who was co-editor of the Paris Review. Like Szymborska, Ghali and Simic were born in the first half of the 20th century. So, in essence, the book is a collection of book reviews. However, Szymborska and Mersal indicate that there is nothing typical about the choice of the selected books or the reviews written. Szymborska herself knows that there is always a big discrepancy between the books that catch reviewers' attention, essentially politics and belles-lettres, and, to a lesser extent, memoirs and reprints of classics. "Discrepancies" as a theme seems to catch Szymborska's attention. She clearly selected books that reflect on the discrepancy between myth and reality, the capacities of the senses, and those who appreciate figures, perhaps to an ecstatic point, and those who cannot even relate to them. The failure to notice the discrepancies also appears in the selected reviews – with a tribute to the awkwardness of those who fear to admit this failure in public. There are books on questions of happiness as a hard-to-define and hard-to-get sentiment, bravery as a confused concept, the changing meaning of greatness, and, above all, the act of artistic creation. Some of the books that Szymborska selected for her beautiful reflections were written by Polish writers – but not all of them. Some were written for adults, and others for children. None are in the genres that she said in her introduction would have had very little if any, chance of making it to the reviewers' columns. Under the title The State of Fashion, Szymborska shares her thoughts on The Historical Development of Clothing by Ewa Szyller, Zygmunt Gruszczynski, and Wanda Piechal. 'This textbook for fourth-year students caught my eye in a display,' she said. When she looked at the table of contents, she read the book, 'since how clothes took their form from the form of government was not immediately obvious to me.' Then comes her reflection on Szczepan Pieniazek's When Apple Blossoms Flower, a book about the fascinating world of growing different trees worldwide. The book's author, she noticed, wished to share her love for growing trees. However, she wrote: 'If I fall head over heels for fruit-bearing trees and shrubs, then I must feel instant enmity toward the twenty thousand living creatures that threaten them." "So much for my longtime affection for elks, who consume shoots and twigs in orchards. So much for my fondness for the equally voracious rabbit,' she continued. Her "Great Love" was dedicated to reviewing a book on Anna, the spouse of Fyodor Dostoevsky, the prominent 19th-century novelist, that appeared under the title 'My poor Fedya.' 'I don't know who first christened these notes 'My Poor Fedya,'" Szymborska wrote. It gives the impression that the young wife felt primarily pity for her sickly, manic, and extraordinary spouse. However, Anna actually admired and approved her unusual husband. "She loved him humbly and blindly,' she said. Szymborska wrote that the book should have been titled My Splendid Fedya, My Wonderful Fedya, or My Wisest Fedya. It actually examines the complex idea and feeling of love from the perspective of this loving but devastated wife, who was living in Germany with a husband 26 years older than her. Regarding other books, Szymborska highlighted things that she said get overlooked by the typical book reviewers. These include home décor, travel, heat waves, Yoga, pets, and some do-it-yourself titles. Szymborska is a fascinating reader who is attracted to all of these – exactly as she loves to identify herself. Short link:
