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Whatever happened to the post-apartheid moment?

Past hopes and possible futures for southern Africa

Peter Vale
Contact: p.vale@ru.ac.za

SARPN would like to acknowledge permission from the Cathlolic Institute of International Affairs for the posting of this document on SARPN's website.
The CIIR website can be accessed at: www.ciir.org
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Preface

This essay looks at southern Africa in the fourth year of the third millennium and explores what futures lie ahead for the region and its peoples. A decade ago an exercise of this kind would have been thought unnecessary – indeed untoward – because the ending of both the Cold War and apartheid promised to deliver southern Africa from its fractious past. Seamus Heaney famously wrote at the time that hope and history had rhymed.1

It is a clichй to say that the future was not what we expected it to be. In southern Africa, hopes of peace and prosperity have been dashed. This issue underpins this entire essay; but so too does the view that other futures are still possible. Thinking aloud about the region, its past and its future, represents an opportunity to give form (or rather forms) not only to present uncertainties, but to the future itself.

There have been a number of exercises that look towards the region’s future. The most famous of these, at least in the public domain, is the exercise conducted by the Institute for Global Dialogue in 2002,2 in which I participated. Borrowing from the techniques offered by scenario-building, versions of southern Africa’s future were sketched out. The first scenario sketched a region dominated by internecine conflict between the states of southern Africa; this was called ‘Danger, Ingozi, Kotsi’. The second, called ‘Market Madness’, portrayed a regional future dominated by entirely free and unfettered markets linked to a world in which market forces were supreme. The third scenario, called ‘Regional Renaissance’, envisioned a region in which strong leadership would help to reverse economic decline and poverty by sharing the goals of social democracy and economic justice. The fourth scenario, ‘The Slow Slide’, traced a trend towards neo-patrimonialism and clientalism throughout the region. Finally, scenario five – ‘Poor but Proud’ – described a region, with weak governments and under-developed civil society, which was disengaged from the international community.

In the second part of this essay, I too outline possible futures for the region on the basis of the arguments – historical and other – that are made in Part One. To be frank, I have done this with certain nervousness: scholarship cannot seek to predict the future and only the most foolhardy of scholars attempt to do so. However, scholars can try to interpret the past, explain contemporary events and, very tentatively, suggest what might happen if the present trends continue – although often, of course, they do not. It is not intended that the futures set out here should provide quick and easy gratification to the sound-bite mentality which drives policy punditry in South Africa and elsewhere. If anything, they show that there are no ready answers to southern Africa’s myriad challenges.

When I was invited to participate in this project by the Catholic Institute for International Relations, my initial response was to decline. I had spent nearly 15 years thinking about the region and trying to engage with its politics. My own intellectual interests had drifted towards social theoretical issues, and I had just completed a dense (and somewhat overly theoretical) book on southern Africa; a book that focused particularly on South Africa’s approach to regional security.3 This had however left me with the uncanny feeling that hidden within its chapters a shorter, more immediate, work was waiting to escape. Between these new covers, then, that escapee may well be found.

I hope this essay will be received in the spirit in which it is offered. As any reading of the burgeoning literature in African studies would suggest, an acute tussle is under way over the nature and scope of knowledge. Of particular importance in this conversation is the issue of who can write on Africa and African topics. I cannot escape either my own past or who I am. So, yes, this essay is written from a particular experience of the region and its ways – but I hope that my own political and intellectual concerns for social emancipation and the region’s people will shine through in what follows.

The above point also raises an ancillary, but important, question: where in the world does South Africa, the region’s newest state, belong? Once, especially during the Cold War, the answer to this question was clear – it belonged with the West, those white-centred states that opposed communism as much, it seems fair to say, as they opposed the liberation of what many still call the Third World. Indeed, apartheid’s longevity – the point was often made – was contingent on the support that the minority received from the West. After the ending of apartheid, many expected this to change, but alas it has not. In a perceptive foreword to the catalogue for South African sculptor Brett Murray’s 2002 exhibition ‘White like me’, Ivor Powell writes:

    For all the lip service of African National Congress politicians to African traditional customs and values, the new South Africa is as powerfully written by the dominant global white discourse as ever was the old. We buy into American economic and cultural values and aspirations as enthusiastically and as unreflectively as we buy into the compromised values of Westminster and United States democracy, not to mention abstract notions like justice and fair play. We educate and define knowledge and achievement almost exclusively in terms derived from the imperialist hegemony of the Western ‘white’ powers ... 4

This essay is for my friend John Barratt – gentleman, scholar, progressive Catholic.

Peter Vale
Grahamstown, South Africa, January 2004



Notes:
  1. See Seamus Heaney’s ‘Address: Hope and history’ in The visit of Seamus Heaney to Rhodes University in honour of Malvern van Wyk Smith, mimeo pamphlet produced by the Department of English, Rhodes University, Grahamstown, South Africa, August 2002. The phrase comes from Heaney’s poem The cure of Troy: A version of Sophocles’ Philoctetes (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, 1991): ‘History says, Don’t hope / On this side of the grave. / But then, once in a lifetime / The longed-for tidal wave / Of justice can rise up, / And hope and history rhyme.’
  2. De Villiers, R (ed) (2002) Southern Africa 2020: Five scenarios, Institute for Global Dialogue, South Africa.
  3. Vale, P (2003) Security and politics in South Africa: The regional dimension, Lynne Rienner Publishers, Boulder (Colorado) and London.
  4. Foreword by Ivor Powell to White like me, a catalogue produced for Brett Murray’s exhibition as winner of the Standard Bank Young Artist award for 2002.


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