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Daily Maverick
6 days ago
- Politics
- Daily Maverick
What colonialism hides and the selected class interests its serves (Part 2)
Both Chris Hani and Steve Biko echoed Frantz Fanon's warning that unless the fight against oppression is a fundamental one, decolonisation will just mean 'the transfer into native hands of those unfair advantages which are the legacy of the colonial period'. Part 2 in a two-part series. Many of the people who invoke Fanon don't seem to have read his extraordinarily prescient The Wretched of the Earth, and, more particularly, its chapter 'The Pitfalls of National Consciousness'. Written in 1961, it could easily be thought of having been published yesterday, as will shortly be demonstrated. So germane is this chapter that it merits a longish quotation: ' The (post-independence) national middle class discovers its historic mission: that of intermediary. Seen through its eyes, its mission has nothing to do with transforming the nation; it consists, prosaically, of being the transmission line between the nation and a capitalism, rampant though camouflaged, which today puts on the masque of neocolonialism. 'The (post-independence) national bourgeoisie will be quite content with the role of the Western bourgeoisie's business agent… But this same lucrative role, this cheap-jack's function, this meanness of outlook and this absence of all ambition symbolise the incapability of the national middle class to fulfil its historic role of bourgeoisie (embedded in capitalism). 'Here, the dynamic, pioneer aspect, the characteristics of the inventor and of the discoverer of new worlds which are found in all national bourgeoisies are lamentably absent. In the colonial countries, the spirit of indulgence is dominant at the core of the bourgeoisie; and this is because the national bourgeoisie identifies itself with the Western bourgeoisie, from whom it has learnt its lessons. 'It follows the Western bourgeoisie along its path of negation and decadence without ever having emulated it in its first stages of exploration and invention, stages which are an acquisition of that Western bourgeoisie whatever the circumstances. In its beginnings, the national bourgeoisie of the colonial countries identifies itself with the decadence of the bourgeoisie of the West. We need not think that it is jumping ahead; it is in fact beginning at the end. It is already senile before it has come to know the petulance, the fearlessness or the will to succeed of youth.' For our purposes, the main takeaway from Fanon is the post-independence leaders' and business supporters' acceptance of their dependency, provided they remain the beneficiaries of the inequalities produced by their particular country's peripheral position within the global capitalist order. It must be presumed that Professor William Gumede, whom I quoted in Part 1, has read 'The Wretched of the Earth' — but with the same selectivity that allows him to advocate entrepreneurship as the antidote to colonialism, when giant transnational corporations (TNCs) dominate all capitalist economies. Although merely junior partners in this capitalist order — a 'pure appendage of the stock exchange', according to Frederick Engels' 1895 characterisation — the dependent bourgeoisie had capitalism 'in their bones', as noted US economist Paul Baran would have said, with a commitment to protecting — while helping to camouflage — the capitalist nature of their various societies. This line of enquiry led to the development of underdevelopment analyses, beginning with Andre Gunder Frank's 1966 book, The Development of Underdevelopment and Walter Rodney's How Europe Underdeveloped Africa, of 1972. In need of emphasising is that by the time of independence, all former African and Asian colonies had been integrated into the world capitalist system. Colonialism and the specificities of the societal features of each of the former colonies did indeed leave their imprint — most commonly in adopting the language and religion — of their erstwhile colonial owners. Their market-driven economies, however, along with its profit-maximising imperative, monetarisation, various forms of commodification and working class of different sizes and functions, were all characteristically those of capitalism, even allowing for a sometimes high degree of variability. That most of the people in these post-colonial countries were — and many still are — peasant farmers made no difference: they were and are chained to the unequal trade of capitalist markets worldwide for their livelihoods. Fanon's 1961 insights additionally alert us to yet another major feature of the African dependent bourgeoisie. Fanon presents us with the seemingly paradoxical promotion by the dependent bourgeoisie of nationalisation, the supposed policy of left-wing socialists. Yet, it is the dependent bourgeoisie who, he alerts us: '… never stops calling for the nationalisation of the economy and the commercial sector. In its thinking, to nationalise does not mean placing the entire economy at the service of the nation or satisfying all its requirements. To nationalise does not mean organising the state on the basis of a new programme of social relations. For the bourgeoisie, nationalisation signifies very precisely the transfer into indigenous hands of privileges inherited from the colonial period.' 'Africanisation' This 'Africanisation' has swept through Africa in various times and forms. Uganda was the first instance of this phenomenon when, in 1972, its then president Idi Amin ordered the expulsion of the sizable South Asian minority. As elsewhere in British Africa, the colonial administrators had brought thousands of people from British India to Uganda to serve as labourers and mid-level administrators. These migrants — known simply as 'Asians' — held a middle position in the colonial Ugandan social hierarchy, being between the white colonial administration and the few white settlers and the African majority. Following Uganda's independence in 1962, Ugandan Asians came to dominate the country's commercial life. Resentment by Uganda's African commercial interest ultimately culminated in their 1972 expulsion. Importantly, the expulsion of Ugandan Asians was justified by a nativist logic that sought to paint the country's Asian minority not as fellow countrymen who had shared the Ugandan people's experience of colonial subjugation, but rather as parasitic relics of the colonial past. Amin repeatedly referred to Ugandan Asians as 'bloodsuckers', and declared that his 'deliberate policy' in expelling them was to 'transfer the economic control of Uganda into the hands of Ugandans, for the first time in our country's history'. The expulsion was Africanisation in practice. This policy of affirmative action, as Mahmood Mamdani pointed out, benefited only a 'privileged minority' of African Ugandans despite being dressed up as providing redress to all those who had experienced the brunt of colonial oppression. South Africa's 'transformation' — the new and more neutral terms for affirmative action and BEE in all their various forms — replicates this Ugandan pattern, with the white supremacy of the apartheid era being replaced by persisting white privileges in post-1994 South Africa. This is the rationalisation used by the nominally non-racial South African state for its promotion of what former president Thabo Mbeki called the black bourgeoisie. Except that the coloureds and Indians — the 'races' still used in all official statistics — are, like white South Africans, seen as non-African. The intended de facto beneficiaries of transformation are thus those people able to claim they are the African bourgeoisie. (There are no longer any legal definitions of the four apartheid races invented by apartheid and still used in all official statistics and, no less importantly, that frame the thinking of most South Africans.) Fragmentation At an African continental level, this fragmentation is part of Fanon's foresight: ' National consciousness is nothing but a crude, empty, fragile shell. The cracks in it explain how easy it is for young independent countries to switch back from nation to ethnic group and from state to tribe… Consequently, wherever the petty-mindedness of the national bourgeoisie and the haziness of its ideological positions have been incapable of enlightening the people as a whole… there is a return to tribalism, and we watch with a raging heart as ethnic tensions triumph.' The anachronism of still referring to colonialism to describe aspects of the contemporary world obscures these realities when not entirely obliterating them. With activists for change still attributing colonialism, in some shape or form, to the burdens faced by most of their citizens, the resulting misunderstandings are ideal protections for the status quo — 'the most universal system the world has ever known, both in the sense that it is global and in the sense that it penetrates every aspect of social life and the natural environment', in the assessment of noted American-Canadian historian Ellen Meiksins Wood. A colonial mask is ideal cover, at a local level, for the peripheral bourgeoisie. Their dependence on the metropolitan bourgeoisie for the economic and political privileges keeping them as the ruling class in each of the dependent countries needs the true nature of the relationship to be camouflaged in any way. This colonial associated confusion makes impossible the very notion of a meaningful 'Africa'. Other than the accident of being on the same continent, which, in geological time we know will be short lived due to continental drift, there isn't even a semblance of any such homogeneous Africa. Longstanding civil and regional wars; competing economic blocs geographically defined; exacerbated still further by all the major African countries prioritising what they see to be best in their own competing interests; growing authoritarianism and social conservativism, all beg the question: What is this 'Africa' we so readily invoke? Yet, we continue speaking of Africa as though it is a meaningfully unified entity. Hence the longstanding and repeated calls for Africa to build robust, pan-African institutions and markets. Hence, too, as an extension of this call, is delinking from exploitative global systems — whether controlled by Washington, Brussels or Beijing — together with deepening trade through the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA). Nepad Proponents of agreements like the AfCFTA seem to have forgotten Nepad. NEE who? The New Partnership for Africa's Development, an economic development programme of the African Union, adopted in July 2001. Yes, 24 years ago! Its 'newness' was being an African partnership, designed by and for Africans dedicated to an overarching vision and policy framework for accelerating economic cooperation and integration among African countries. Yet AfCFTA is among the myths still being peddled by a leadership dependent on retaining its privileges by bamboozling the masses. Its incessant message is that the enemy of development is entirely 'out there', beyond national borders. China is a new addition to this rogues' gallery, with the 'West', America and Europe being the foundation members. With the demise of Rhodesia, South Africa is unique in recognising an internal enemy, 'whites', the beneficiaries of our colonial and apartheid history, but not the inequality produced and reproduced by our unbroken assigned place in the international capitalist order. Racialising this inequality extends to White Monopoly Capital. Note, capitalism is exempt; it is only the whiteness of the capital that is the problem. South Africa is further unique by simultaneously championing both 'Africa' and the xenophobia directed at anyone more black than the local standard for Africans, and any other marker of being a non-South African African. The 'Global South' is no less of a mystification than Africa. Both, however, have the bulk of their populations bedevilled by poverty, which, in turn, is guaranteed by the role they play in what used to be promoted as a globalisation designed for their benefit — mainly via job creation. Despite this mass of people who suffer the consequences of global normality, changing the status quo is something even Hercules would have found daunting. For those of us seeing the need for significant system change, we needlessly make it even more difficult for ourselves. Our starting point must be a broadly agreed understanding of what it is that we seek to change. The way forward Fanon recognised that decolonisation could merely entail 'quite simply the replacing of a certain 'species' of men by another 'species' of men'. His analysis of the newly independent African countries invites the conclusion that unless the fight against oppression is a fundamental one, decolonisation will just mean 'the transfer into native hands of those unfair advantages which are the legacy of the colonial period'. Steve Biko made similar warnings: ' If we have a mere change of face of those in governing positions what is likely to happen is that black people will continue to be poor, and you will see a few blacks filtering through to the so-called bourgeoisie. Our society will be run almost as of yesterday.' (I Write What I Like.) Adopting the 'Coca-Cola and hamburger cultural backgrounds', he argued, would guarantee the relations of domination to continue. (ibid.) Chris Hani, another hero of the Struggle against apartheid, was equally forthright in his expectations of what must follow the victory over apartheid. In October 1992, shortly before his assassination, he warned: ' What I fear is that the liberators will reveal themselves to be elitists… drive in Mercedes-Benz's and use up this country's resources… and live in palaces and gather riches.' Similarly, the Bissau-Guinean and Cape Verdean theorist and revolutionary Amílcar Cabral argued in his seminal 1974 essay, 'National Liberation and Culture', that as harmful as 'the denigration of the cultural values of the African peoples based on racialist prejudices' has been, it would be just as harmful for the national liberation struggle to engage in 'blind acceptance of cultural values without considering the negative, reactionary or retrogressive (aspects) it has or can have.' Though Cabral described cultural revival and resistance as a 'return to the source', he nevertheless made clear that the national liberation struggle in its efforts to promote and nurture indigenous culture cannot afford 'confusion between that which is the expression of an objective and material historical reality and that which seems to be a figment of the mind.' (Amílcar Cabral, National Liberation and Culture, Transition, no. 45; 1974) In his Preface to The Wretched of the Earth, Jean Paul Sartre, one of the leading philosophers of the 20th century, merits the last words to this article: ' The reader is sternly put on his guard against the most dangerous will o' the wisps: the cult of the leader and of personalities, Western culture, and what is equally to be feared, the withdrawal into the twilight of past African culture. ' If this suppressed fury fails to find an outlet, it turns in a vacuum and devastates the oppressed themselves. In order to free themselves they even massacre each other. The different tribes fight between themselves since they cannot face the real enemy. ' The time is drawing near, I am sure, when we will join the ranks of those who make it.' In historic time, 1961 is but yesterday. It is tomorrow that beckons. New confusions will arise. But we should no longer be burdened by the muddles over the meaning of decolonisation. DM
IOL News
02-05-2025
- Politics
- IOL News
Freedom's Legacy; Honouring the Past, Shaping the Future
Mphumzi Mdekazi is the CEO of the Walter and Albertina Sisulu Foundation for Social Justice. Image: Supplied Address by Mphumzi Mdekazi, CEO of the Walter and Albertina Sisulu Foundation for Social Justice, to the BRICS Student Community, University of Zululand. Chairperson, esteemed faculty members, students, BRICS family and comrades It is both a privilege and a responsibility to join you during this Freedom Month — a time intended not only for commemoration, but for critical reflection. The theme before us, 'Freedom's Legacy: Honoring the Past, Shaping the Future', invites us to assess South Africa's democratic journey since 1994 and to interrogate, with intellectual honesty, the nature of the freedom we have inherited — and the future we are constructing. Thirty years ago, South Africa captivated the world with its peaceful transition from apartheid to democracy. That moment was not the endpoint of struggle but rather, as Nelson Mandela reminded us, 'only the beginning of our long walk to freedom.' The architects of our democratic order laid out a vision of inclusive political rights, redress for historical injustice, and a developmental state capable of transforming our socio-economic landscape. But today, as we stand at the confluence of hope and frustration, we must ask: what has become of that vision? And more provocatively: has freedom as we imagined it been deferred, diluted, or even betrayed? The Promise and Its Erosion To answer this, we must confront uncomfortable truths. While the Constitution remains a remarkable achievement — a globally admired charter for human rights and democratic governance — constitutionalism alone has proven to be insufficient to deliver material socio-economic transformation. South Africa remains one of the most unequal societies in the world. Youth unemployment approaches 45%, and inequality, measured by the Gini coefficient, is structurally embedded. The liberation dividend has not reached the majority in any sustained or equitable way. This is not merely a failure of policy; it is a deeper crisis on the lack of political will, glorified mediocrity, lack of institutional coherence, and paucity of ethical leadership at almost all levels. Students as emerging young scholars yourselves, you will recall that Frantz Fanon warned in The Wretched of the Earth, that 'The national middle class discovers its historical mission: that of intermediary… It turns its back on the general masses, arrogantly ignores them, and ventures to seek its own salvation.' Yes, it does because; In post-apartheid South Africa, many of our political, economic and bureaucratic elites have indeed pursued a narrow, transactional nationalism, one that privileges elite incorporation over systemic transformation. What then Went Wrong? Firstly, the political settlement of the early 1990s, while remarkable for its avoidance of civil war, arguably represented a pacted transition rather than a revolutionary rupture. Property relations were largely preserved. The economic architecture inherited from apartheid — highly financialised, extractive, and externally oriented — was insufficiently challenged. Neoliberal policy pivots such as GEAR (Growth, Employment and Redistribution) signalled an early retreat from redistribution and structural reform. 'This in my books is the first reason why the spirit of Ibrahim Traore must be born in you'. Secondly, the state itself became a site not of capability and efficiency, but of capture. The Zondo Commission, while surgically negated white and apartheid crimes, it offered forensic insight into the anatomy of state capture — not merely an aberration but a symptom of deeper institutional decay. What shocked many was not just the scale of corruption, but the impunity that followed. Few high-profile prosecutions have materialised, in-fact no one has been jailed from that expensive exercise. This failure to prosecute erodes trust in the criminal justice system and reinforces the cynicism of a generation already alienated from formal politics. This is deliberate to protect those implicated by that commission, and who occupy significant political positions. I characterise this as 'toxic political selectivity', to cover each other's back because it edifies the rot and stands in direct contrast to what our political forefathers stood for, it undermines every form of renewal. 'This in my books is the second reason why a spirit of Ibrahim Traore must be born in you', so that you practically challenge this entrenched selective justice. Thirdly, there has been a steady erosion of democratic responsiveness. South Africa remains politically free, but many communities experience that freedom as thin and abstract. Elections occur regularly in what I call a 'ritualistic cycle', but the state often fails to deliver even the most basic services, as potholes are becoming fashionable across the country. Democracy, in its procedural sense (ritualistic cycle), survives — but its substantive promise of dignity, equality, and accountability remains elusive. Could it be we have entrusted all these important developmental dimensions to people who are more worried about the next elective conferences or genuinely concerned about the future of our next generation? Only time will tell. Remember, not a single young person is responsible for all these monumental failures and governance transgressions, and; 'this in my book is more of a third reason why the spirit of Ibrahim Traore must appropriately be born in you to demand what you rightfully deserve', (which is Your bright future as young people). 'A New Political Moment'? We now find ourselves entering what may be a new political era: the formation of a Government of National Unity after the 2024 general elections marks a significant departure from three decades of single-party dominance. Does this moment hold promise? Possibly not. This is because of the fact that, the glue that holds GNU together is primarily to shield Phala Phala scandal at all costs, which is currently a bargaining tool for some. That is why you don't hear anything around 'Anti-Corruption Charter from the vocab of their statement of intent, let alone targets and time frames on any of the proposed programs. The GNU foundation is currently fragile, not solid because it is centred around the protection of one man, not the country's needs. This view is opportunistically echoed by the former Chief Justice Zondo, when he recently spoke at an anti-corruption conference at Nelson Mandela University in Gqeberha. Former Chief Justice Zondo had this to say, and I quote: 'The President's decision not to resign and clear his name over Phala Phala scandal undermined the fight against corruption and set a bad precedent for future heads of state facing allegations of serious misconduct, when you think about ethical leadership, there can be no doubt that if the President had insisted that he would resign and carried out that decision, he would have given this country an important tool to use against corruption and wrong doing because for any President after him, the nation would have been able to say should that president face serious allegations of wrongdoing, they should resign, that's what former Chief Justice Zondo said'. What the former Chief Justice forgets is that he was the enabler of all this, as far to ensure that even the campaign documents are sealed even today. Then the question arises; why is the former Chief Justice only raising this now, yet he had all the opportunity to raise it while he was still in the office, let alone ignoring calls from South Africans who originally shared this view, such as Judge Sandile Ngcobo? This is intellectual dishonesty from Judge Zondo's side. It is sanctimonious duty for intellectuals to heal societies with their ink by consistently speaking truth to power when it matters most. Maybe on the other hand that is why proponents of GNU must resist the temptation to romanticize consensus and avoid truth telling because of 'temporary packs'. A legitimate and genuine GNU is not inherently virtuous. Its value lies in whether it can arrest institutional decay, cultivate ethical leadership, and deliver inclusive growth. It must be judged not by its symbolism, but by its outcomes — particularly for young people, who remain structurally marginalised. As intellectuals, we must also ask: does the GNU signify merely a tactical alliance to preserve elite stability? The answer is unclear, but the question must be posed. If GNU is all about the 'markets', then that's a sufficient 'fourth reason why an Ibrahim Traore is now demanded from you as Young People'. The Role of BRICS: Global Alignments, Local Impacts One would foretell that BRICS was a foregone economic embryonic block in spiritual thought, given the foresight and the benefit of hindsight from the efforts of our political forebears. Inevitably BRICS was going to be born; Walter Sisulu's meeting with Chairman Mao in China and later his meeting accompanied by Mama Albertina Sisulu to President Mikhail Gorbarchev on October Revolution day in Kremlin (Russia), had all the hallmarks of foresightedness and visionary leadership for an alternative global economic bloc. The theme of their visit was Soviet Afro- Asian Solidarity. This means that South Africa's role in BRICS was originally framed as part of a new geopolitical narrative — one where emerging powers might recalibrate global governance in favor of the Global South. In theory, BRICS offers an alternative to Western hegemony and a platform for multipolarity. But has BRICS delivered? The reality is mixed. South Africa's engagement in BRICS has yielded important political capital, but its material benefits — in trade, investment, or technology transfer — have been limited. Moreover, BRICS itself is not ideologically coherent: its members include both democratic and authoritarian regimes, capitalist and state-controlled economies. Without a shared vision for justice and development, BRICS risks becoming an empty acronym. For BRICS to serve as an agent of global equity, South Africa must use its seat at the table to advocate not just for state interests, but for the interests of African people — particularly the youth. This demands clarity of purpose, diplomatic agility, and moral courage. On Youth and Leadership In this context, the emergence of young African leaders such as Ibrahim Traoré of Burkina Faso has provoked interest and controversy. His rise has galvanised many young people who feel disillusioned with post-independence leadership across the continent. He is using his charisma and popular engagement to effect institutional reform and advance constitutional governance. His rhetoric is bold and intellectually rigorous. Still, Traoré's emergence speaks to a generational hunger for rupture — for a decisive break with stagnation, corruption, and neocolonial dependence. South African youth are similarly searching for alternatives: not merely new leaders, but new paradigms. This is the intellectual and political challenge before us — to re-imagine and build democratic forms that are participatory, equitable, and emancipatory. History is teaching us that not all democracies and democratic elections are for the people, and not all democratic elections produce democratic leaders nor do they produce democratic dispensations. Similarly, history now teaches us that not all coups are bad nor do some of them produce bad national leadership, the world and its systems are in motion; a case in point is what we are witnessing in the Sahel Region (Burkina Faso, Niger and Mali). Is Democracy Alpha and Omega? Which brings us to a final provocation: Is democracy the alpha and omega of our struggle? Democracy, as we have practiced it, is necessary — but not sufficient. It provides the procedural architecture for freedom, but not its content. We must distinguish between democracy as ritual (elections, speeches, consultations) and democracy as lived experience (access to economic opportunity, basic services, voice, and agency). As the late Prof. Mahmood Mamdani has argued, the postcolonial state often reproduces colonial logics unless deliberately reconstructed. We cannot content ourselves with forms if they are hollowed of substance. In this case, we don't need to go far; let us just go to the Western Cape in Khayelitsha, either in Site C, Nkanini, Mfuleni or Philippi etc and see the plight of a black man there, we are told that's where democracy thrives or you may want to gauge the impact and effectiveness of our 'democratic GNU'. True democracy must be redistributive. It must be feminist. It must be ecological. It must be pan-African in outlook. And above all, it must be centred on the aspirations of youth — not merely as future leaders, but as present-day citizens. Probably that's more the reason we urgently need a Traore than a Zelenskyy in our shores, or more Traores in the African Continent for that matter. Conclusion: A Generational Mandate Let me end with the words of Kwame Nkrumah: 'The independence of Ghana is meaningless unless it is linked up with the total liberation of the African continent.' Likewise, our political freedom is incomplete without social and economic liberation. This is your generational mandate, as students of Zululand University, it should all begin here. Not merely to inherit democracy, but to deepen it. Not merely to oppose corruption, but to build competence. Not merely to critique the world, but to re-imagine and rebuild it. You are not too young. You are not too late. The time is now. The tools are in your hands — knowledge, organisation, solidarity and focus. Let this be the decade in which South African youth reclaims the democratic project, not as dogma, but as an evolving expression of socio-economic justice. Let us not betray the legacy of freedom by settling for survival. Let us honour it by building a future worthy of the struggle that gave us life. In the words of Amílcar Cabral: "Let us not betray the legacy of freedom by settling for survival. Let us honour it by building a future worthy of the struggle that gave us life. Freedom is not a trophy to be hoarded. It is a flame to be passed on — not as ashes, but as fire.' I thank you. * Address by Mphumzi Mdekazi, CEO of the Walter and Albertina Sisulu Foundation for Social Justice, to the BRICS Student Community, University of Zululand. ** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media.
