After the Twin Towers - rethinking CapeTown

After the Athlone Cooling Towers: A historic opportunity?
For a start, let’s consider the strategic and historical significance of this site. It is situated at the point where three distinct urban zones (products of the apartheid city) intersect: Pinelands (middle class surburbia), Langa (our first black ‘township’), and Athlone (a mainly ‘coloured’ residential area, precursor to Mitchell’s Plain and that amorphous expanse popularly known as ‘the Cape Flats’). Neither ‘black’ nor ‘white’, the development of this liminal site holds the potential to bring together what apartheid put asunder.

The N2
Almost as significant is the fact that this site is located on the N2, the point of entry to Cape Town for migrants from the hinterland and tourists from the airport. Plus of course the thousands of commuters who stream past on their way to or from work. What an opportunity to open Cape Town up to all its inhabitants and to the tourists whose foreign currency is an important driver of the local economy.

The informal economy
Given the inability of the formal sector to create jobs, isn’t this a wonderful opportunity to tap into and channel the creativity that exists in the informal sector? This country provides us with some stunning examples of what can be achieved. I have in mind in particular the well-documented example of the Warwick Junction Urban Renewal Project in Durban (see the book, Working in Warwick by Richard Dobson and Caroline Skinner (with Jillian Nicholson). Their book is a vivid illustration of the success of this Project, and suggests some of the ways in which one could build on the enterprise and skills that already exist in the informal sector (as a walk through neighbouring Langa will illustrate). Some of the possibilities that come to mind include the creation of the following:
• A fresh produce market
• A clothing market
• A flower market
• A food court featuring traditional township and Cape cuisine (a potential tourist drawcard)
• A fish market (linked to the food court)
• An arts and crafts market (nothing mass-produced or imported)
• A market for herbalists and traditional medicines and treatments
• A recycling centre
• Last but not least, a few shebeens!

Add to this mix a tourist centre and information office that would demonstrate that there is more to this city than just Table Mountain, Cape Point, the Waterfront, Long Street and Robben Island (on a good day when the Ferry is working!)

A project centre with rooms for meetings and workshops would be a necessity – as would a child-care centre.

The centrepiece would be the remaining turbine hall, which surely has great potential as an exhibition space– to supplement, extend and popularise the work of existing museums and art galleries in Cape Town. According to the Cape times headline (5 October) it could become an ‘African cultural centre’ – one hopes the word ‘African’ is being used inclusively here.

Planning would obviously be needed to integrate the site into the city’s transport system (rail, bus and cycle) - essential if it is to become a crucial development node.

Of course for any of this to happen will require some creativity and imagination, and the active participation of the traders and vendors and craftsmen and women who would make this work. It has happened elsewhere; it should not be impossible here.

Rob Gaylard

'Save the --- ', or how to assign significance?

I just posted these two messages on my Facebook wall.

"Save Johannesburg. eGoli is threatened by a rising tide of toxic mine water 530m below the surface and rising at a rate of 18m meters a month. But can Johannesburg be saved - or should we evacuate? (See today's Argus p. 5)"

"Save the arum lily micro frog - don't buy illegally picked arum lilies. This little frog breeds in the water and dew held in the lily's cup, and indiscriminate harvesting threatens its survival.( See today's Argus, page 9.)"

They illustrate an ongoing problem – a spin-off of the ‘information age’. We are constantly bombarded by bits of information and by a variety of appeals – from ‘save the micro frog’ to ‘save the Liesbeck’ to ‘save the carthorses’ to ‘save the fynbos’ to ‘save the whales’ to ‘save the planet’. Is there an ascending order of significance? How to assign our time and energy (given that this is finite)? Do we each just pick whatever is in closest proximity to us, or whatever grabs our attention? The smaller and closer, the more likely we are to see some kind of result for our efforts. The larger the appeal (‘save the planet’) the more remote it becomes, and the punier our efforts seem. Do we start in our own backyard (micro frogs, carthorses, the Liesbeck River, the fynbos) and hope that cumulatively our efforts add up to something?

I suppose the only thing that is certain is that its better to do something than nothing. As someone once said, ‘Nothing will come of nothing.’

Waiting for Godot (again)

Have just seen the latest South African incarnation of 'Waiting for Godot' at the Little Theatre. A memorable production of perhaps the twentieth century’s greatest play. Instructive to recognise how much 'Boesman and Lena' owes to 'Godot' – with the important difference that Gogo and Didi’s vulnerability and despair are part of an universal human condition, whereas Boesman and Lena’s predicament is (also) rooted in three centuries of colonial and racial oppression and exploitation. B&L has a very specific South African setting and resonance.
Perhaps the best short description of the play is that provided by an early (and rather bemused) critic, who complained: ‘Nothing happens, twice!’ (This is, of course, entirely the point.) But how entertainingly do Gogo and Didi pass the time! And how poignantly! Are we all just whistling in the dark?

'The Ugly Noo Noo' and the New South Africa

Have just seen Andrew Buckland’s brilliant one-man play, 'The Ugly Noo Noo'. First performed at the Market Theatre in 1988, it has worn extremely well. In fact, it has gained an unexpected contemporary resonance – it was clearly a seminal influence on Blomkamp’s District Nine.
At its most obvious level the play is a hilarious take on the fear and loathing inspired by the infamous ‘Parktown prawn’ – in reality a quite harmless, oversized cricket which invades gardens and houses and has some alarming habits (it can jump waist-high, and defecates in response to threat). It is also an (accidental) alien invader, brought to Joburg in loads of sand from some coastal area. It has adapted to its new urban environment and is remarkably resilient, resisting most attempts to exterminate it.
Back in the dark days of the 1980s, faced with multiple threats, real or imagined (the ‘rooi gevaar’, the ‘swart gevaar’, the ANC underground, MK) the play was a vehicle for political satire and sly subversion. Buckland’s performance inevitably generates sympathy for the despised ‘prawns’ – and provides a mock-serious expose of the ‘species-ism’ of which we humans are guilty. As the prawns are humanised through Buckland’s performance, the humans are defamiliarised. As we are obtain a prawn’s eye view of the human species, we realize what strange creatures we really are!
In the contemporary South African context The Ugly Noo Noo gains further, unexpected significance. One cannot help but be reminded of the recent xenophobic violence, when foreign ‘aliens’ were hacked to death, burnt alive, or driven into refuge camps (an event which also clearly informs Neill Blomkamp’s film).
The play’s exploration of our irrational fears and loathings is as relevant now as it was in 1988. Come back Andrew Buckland!

The humble hyphen

‘To hyphenate or not to hyphenate?’ – in the greater scheme of things this may seem a trivial question, but it is a recurring source of uncertainty and anxiety for editors and writers. Fowler heroically attempted to systematize its use, but it seems best to concede that this is impossible. It is often simply a matter of usage, and the best advice (when in doubt) is to consult a dictionary. Here are some examples of variations in usage: ‘water-gauge’ but ‘water heater’; water-meadow’ but ‘water main’; ‘watercolour’ (UK) but ‘water-colour’ (US).
Nevertheless, something may usefully be said.
1. It is used in compound adjectives, in particular to avoid ambiguity. There is a big difference between ‘six-inch nails’ and ‘six inch nails’; and (as Lynne Truss wittily points out) there is an even bigger difference between ‘extra-marital sex’ and ‘extra marital sex’!
2. It is used to link words, especially when used adjectivally. Compare ‘an out-of-work taxi driver’ with ‘a taxi driver who is out of work’.
3. Certain prefixes need hyphens: ‘Are you pro-abortion or pro-life?’; ‘The anti-apartheid movement was a powerful force for change.’
4. It is sometimes used to avoid ‘letter collision’, as in ‘de-ice’. However there is (in my view) no reason to hyphenate ‘coordinate’ or ‘cooperate’
5. The use of ‘floating hyphens’ is inelegant, but not incorrect. e.g. ‘Are you looking for full- or part-time employment?’
6. Hyphens are of course often used to divide words at the end of a line.

Freedom Day – why is it so difficult to celebrate?

It’s not easy to say ‘Happy Freedom Day’ – one might be suspected of irony, mockery or subversion. What are we celebrating? The official government website tells us that ‘we celebrate 16 years of deepening democracy and freedom and the achievements we have made as a nation’ (www.info.gov.za/events/freedom-day.htm).

The memory of that day in April 1994 may not have faded, but why do these words ring so hollow? Because we also know that those 16 years have brought an deepening of poverty, a widening of the gap between rich and poor, an exponential increase in the rate of crime – and both an extension and a deterioration of educational and public health care systems. After 16 years, is the glass half full or half empty? And who are the principal beneficiaries? The established white elite and the rising new black elite?

It is easy to be cynical, much more difficult to find some kind of balance between optimism and pessimism.

Political freedom? Yes, we enjoy obviously much more political freedom than we ever had before. But if one is hungry, unemployed, landless and lacking in market-related skills, what then does political freedom mean? One cannot eat ballot papers.

If one has a house and a job and some money in the bank it may not be too difficult to find something to celebrate. But if one is one of 400 000 on the Cape Town housing waiting list, or one of the (roughly) 30% of our fellow countrymen who are unemployed, what then? Does one live on promises?

This not just a political problem: it is also a challenge for anyone who would like to believe in our collective future, and who wants to live with a modicum of hope. Is anyone prepared to grasp this nettle?

Vigil in Observatory 13 April 2010

One murder is one murder too many.

Each senseless, violent death causes devastation to friends, family, loved ones.

We remember in particular the recent murders in Observatory of Dominic Giddy, and Benny Pakiso Moqobane (both UCT students).
Also the murder of Masoa Pheello (a CPUT student), murdered in the street in Woodstock (apparently for his cellphone).
Also the murders of Prof Mike Larkin – murdered in the street in Rondebosch -
And Prof Kevin Rochford – murdered in his driveway in Little Mowbray.

• Also the murders of the 11 people in the Woodstock precinct who died in the 2008 -2009 year (according to official police statistics)

• Also the 121 people murdered in Khayelitsha in the same year

• Also the 135 people murdered in Gugulethu in the same year.

• Also the 2 346 people murdered in the Western Cape in the same year

• And the 18 148 people murdered in South Africa in the same year

• And the 50 people who were murdered today in South Africa

• And the 50 people who will be murdered tomorrow in South Africa.

• To understand this, take the impact of 1 murder and multiply it by 50, or by 18 148.

The point is not to make us feel helpless or despairing; the point is to remind us never to accept this state of affairs as normal.

The point is to do whatever we can to change a situation where 50 murders a day is seen as a statistic that we can live with.

By standing together here we are demonstrating that we cannot and will not accept this as normal.

I am reminded of the well-known words of John Donne, English poet and one-time Dean of St Pauls: ‘Send not to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee’
.
Lets do what we can to ensure that this bell stops tolling, 50 times a day.

Malema, Terreblanche and Logic

A little logic can sometimes go a long way. On about 8 March Malema is reported as singing a song in front of an audience of University of Johannesburg students which includes the words ‘Dubul’ ibhunu’ (or ‘Kill the boer’). On 3 April AWB leader Eugene Terreblanche is murdered on his farm. According to police, this crime is committed by two farm workers and is the result of a disagreement over wages. The Independent Newspaper group conducts an online poll, and of the 772 respondents, 73% think that there is a direct causal link between these two events. This seems to be a classic case of a well-known logical fallacy known as ‘post hoc, ergo propter hoc’ (‘After this, therefore because of this.’) Simply put, it is to assume that sequence in time indicates causality. ‘Roosters crow just before the sun rises. Therefore they cause the sun to rise.’ This kind of argument is often linked to superstition or an inability to accept that some events are coincidental. In this case, fear, antipathy or prejudice seem to have led most of the IOL respondents to assume a causal link where none has been shown to exist. Farm murders are terrible crimes, but they take place without any prior singing of this particular song – by Malema or anyone else.
This does not of course exculpate Malema. Whether or not his words constitute hate speech, they certainly contribute to increased levels of fear and intolerance, and promote racial polarisation. The question is, can or will the ANC reign him in? At what point does he become a liability?

The ANC and hate speech

For my take on Julius Malema, see my recent blog ('Malema: Clown Prince or Crown Prince'). But a quick comment on 'hate speech' and 'dubula ibhunu' in particular. Anyone who knows anything about language will know that meaning depends to a large extent on context (the speaker, the occasion, the date, the audience). So one cannot 'fix' the meaning of this particular phrase or song. One would also need some understanding of the tradition of struggle out of which this song comes. Recourse to the Dictionary of South African English reveals that the term is not a literal reference to farmers (it can refer to whites generally, to Afrikaners, or specifically to the South African Police of the apartheid era) - but it is clearly derogatory. But does it/can it constitute hate speech?

Fugard at The Fugard

Fugard at the Fugard was a moving theatrical event. His latest (last?) play, The Train Driver, is a welcome recovery, and represents a kind of homecoming. It marks a return to the Eastern Cape location of much of his best work. The stark, spare setting (a desolate, sandy graveyard) is evocative, with its single, Godot-like tree and the rough graves in the foreground. Yet again we have two marginalised characters struggling to make some sense of their lives. This time around, though, the basic humanism often vested in Fugard’s women characters is articulated by Roelf, and suggested by the relationship that begins to develop between him and the Andile (a stunning performance by Owen Sejake). Sentimentality is almost entirely absent, and the dialogue is convincing. Echoes of earlier plays linger almost as a subtext. The theatre itself is wonderfully atmospheric. Long may the spirit of Fugard inhabit it.
Given the ticket prices, the audience was hardly representative of Cape Town’s diversity. (This is not just a minor quibble, in view of Fugard’s intimate relationship with township players and audiences.) One hopes that an effort will be made to offer some tickets at discounted prices (and not just on Tuesdays).

Malema - Clown Prince or Crown Prince?

Julius Malema is the person we (or some people) love to hate. He is the butt of all jokes, an answer to the cartoonist’s prayer. Just how seriously should we take Juju, this man who is ‘married to the ANC’, who is ready to ‘kill for Zuma’, this ihlongandlebe (Fred Khumalo) who trades in insults and thinly veiled threats, who plays the race card shamelessly, and who parades his new-found wealth?
Crown Prince or Clown Prince? Serious threat or stand-up comic? Lekota compares him to the ‘child soldiers’ who have caused mayhem across Africa. Is he one of the ‘never-ending parade of corrupt clowns’ who are ‘drunkenly driven by a culture of entitlement’ (Breytenbach)? One of the new rising class of ‘tenderpreneurs’ who milk the system for what they can get? Or does he channel the discontent of millions of young black South Africans? Or is he all of the above?
All this points to the sorry decline in our public life, where name-calling and the exchange of insults become a substitute for informed debate. It also points to the apparent degeneration of the ANC. The language that Malema uses sometimes echoes that of the corrupt and ruthless despot who still rules Zimbabwe with a fist of iron. Yet it strikes a chord. One can discern a pattern: first the outrageous comment or insult – then the apology. But what one remembers is the deliberate provocation. One suspects that he knows just what he is doing. . . .
Just how much power and influence does Malema wield? Is he just a ‘useful idiot’ whose excesses will be tolerated (because he helped to deliver the youth vote – and because he helped to pave the way for Zuma’s rise to power)? He is clearly arrogant, ignorant, militant, intolerant and opportunistic – a demagogue in the making (but not an idiot!). How much licence will the ANC allow him? In the worst case scenario, might they find that he is beyond their power to recall? Do we laugh at him at our own peril?

Against caricature

Public debate in South Africa presents a depressing spectacle. Perhaps it most closely resembles the medieval practice of putting the miscreant in the stocks and inviting the public to hurl rotten fruit at him/her. As a result we have stock figures of fun, caricatures which can too easily be substituted for reality. This produces an orgy of finger-pointing and name-calling, the real purpose of which is self-exculpation. It provides a temporary sense of relief and release: at last we have found a target, a scapegoat, on which we can vent our indignation and blame all our ills. And there are such easy, inviting targets: shower-headed Zuma, pig-headed Malema, botoxed Helen Zille, the figure of our late Minister of Health, adorned in beetroot and garlic – one could go on . . . . But in the midst of all this, aren’t we perhaps missing something? Perhaps what escapes is that much-touted, much-abused thing called ‘truth’ (however partial or provisional), or ‘fairness’, or ‘respect for the facts’. Is the accuser always holy, one wonders? What a wonderful, simplistic solution these caricatured figures present! And how cheering it all is! But doesn’t this encourage intolerance, and produce an even more polarised society?

Making a difference

Perhaps a starting point should be the recognition that whether we like it or not our attitudes and actions do make a difference. What we do (or don’t do), both individually and collectively, makes a difference. Our attitudes and actions rub off on others and have an effect. If we choose not to act, or not to vote, or not to join whatever organisaation, this has an effect. If we send an email to Avaaz.org or observe Earth Hour (on 27 March) this has an (admittedly miniscule) effect. Steve Biko’s question still seems relevant: do we want to be part of the problem, or part of the solution?’ If we opt for apathy, cynicism, indifference or despair, don’t we become part of the problem? And if we choose to exert ourselves don’t we potentially become part of the solution? Or, if ‘solution’ is too alarming and utopian a word, aren’t we (in however small a way) helping to move us an inch or two in the right direction?
What is ‘the right direction’? Of course, I am assuming that our exertions are directed to making South Africa a less violent, less unjust and less unequal place. Unfortunately, as the much quoted W.B. Yeats once put it, ‘The best lack all conviction, while the worst/ Are full of passionate intensity’.

Is the glass half full or half empty?

This, is. I suspect is a perplexity which many of us face on a daily basis. It seems to be an unsolvable dilemma, since the same set of facts can be either cause for despair or optimism (rather like the duck/rabbit). Are we (as a nation) taking the high road or the low road? Are things getting better or worse? Should we start packing for Perth, or should we prepare for the long haul and put our shoulders to the wheel? Is staying on an act of faith or an act of folly? I suspect that as South Africans we all – rather like Athol Fugard’s Hally – ‘oscillate between hope and despair’. How much of the optimism that attended the 1994 elections remains?

Perplexities and Dilemmas

The aim of this Words eKapa blog is to reflect in what I hope is a modest and interesting way on some of the perplexities and dilemmas that confront us on a daily basis. These range from the universal (‘To be or not to be’) to the local and particular. Some blogs may just contain bits of information that I found helpful or provocative (we all suffer from information overload). This is offered in the spirit of open-minded enquiry that I believe should characterise what we do as sentient and (hopefully) thinking beings and also as South African citizens. (I hope the two are not incompatible!).