In a world of small, mean rulers, we must tend well to our patch of democracy

Of The Empire

We will be known as a culture that feared death
and adored power, that tried to vanquish insecurity
for the few and cared little for the penury of the
many. We will be known as a culture that taught
and rewarded the amassing of things, that spoke
little if at all about the quality of life for
people (other people), for dogs, for rivers. All
the world, in our eyes, they will say, was a
commodity. And they will say that this structure
was held together politically, which it was, and
they will say also that our politics was no more
than an apparatus to accommodate the feelings of
the heart, and that the heart, in those days,
was small, and hard, and full of meanness. — © 2008 by Mary Oliver

If a picture speaks 1,000 words, then surely the photograph of Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney’s handshake with China’s Xi Jinping speaks that and more.

Carney, en route to the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, stopped off in Beijing first. At the end of the meeting, Carney announced a “preliminary but landmark” trade deal and a recognition — welcomed by Beijing — that countries are operating in a “new world order”. He went on to say, “We take the world as it is — not as we wish it to be.” Later at Davos, Carney’s words were equally direct when he warned of the “rupture” the world is facing.

The message from Carney, a careful politician, to the world was, let us start delinking from the United States. Easier said than done, of course, and Carney’s tightrope diplomacy has been met with some concern in Canada. Still others have pointed to the hypocrisy of the rules-based international order Carney lamented.

Yet the world as it is, is unpredictable and in Trumpian mode moves faster than the speed of light. The post-World War 2 order is being unpicked — some may say it is all but over. In this new world order with its spheres of influence, where small and mean men (mostly men) talk only of force and power, it is now more unclear than before who the good and bad actors are. It is trite to say that the “good vs bad country” narrative has always belied the fact that the US has invoked a human-rights-based foreign policy when it has suited its interests. The examples are too plentiful to list here.

But the veil has been fully lifted, and there is no more pretence of US foreign policy underpinned by democratic values — the US has gone rogue within, its democracy on life support and its foreign policy made at the whims of an unstable president, who speaks the language of extraction and ownership only.

Donald Trump’s conduct in office has revealed who he is — one who delights in fomenting division. But every authoritarian needs an enemy (Trump has conjured up enemies domestic and foreign) and enablers — from the “do nothing” US Congress to a spokesperson in Karoline Leavitt, whose every justification is a dripping lie. Even more dangerous is the White House deputy chief of staff, Stephen Miller — a man straight out of a 1930s playbook.

Religion as a ruse

This small and mean politics also needs religion as a ruse — South Africa’s apartheid state used Christianity as the basis for separate development too. It’s a well-worn modus. So, we should not be surprised that Leavitt seldom appears without wearing her crucifix. Or, when faith leaders belt out “How Great Thou Art” at the White House while protesters are being shot at point-blank range, in the name of law and order.

Toni Morrison’s words on evil are perhaps apposite here:

“It’s predictable. It needs a tuxedo, it needs a headline, it needs blood, it needs fingernails. It needs all that costume in order to get anybody’s attention.”

“It needs all that costume.” Its headlines are detaining immigrants, invading Venezuela, shock and awe in Iran and talk of annexing Greenland. Its costume is cheap faith.

Trump increasingly sounds like a mad king, rambling incoherently. He will, like every mad king before him, find his dreams of empire lie in dust, while former allies start operating on the basis that the US cannot be trusted.

So our gaze must shift beyond the mad king and his courtiers. In all of this global chaos of power and might displayed so crudely and cruelly, it is tempting for democrats around the world to retreat and for citizens to bury their heads in the sand. It feels easier than engaging with the repercussions of strongman tactics. Yet, we must be clear-eyed that this “new world order” has implications for us all.

No time for despair

Now is therefore not the time to abandon collective commitments to democracy. In fact, quite the opposite, as Morrison again reminds us in what has become a well-worn quote:

“There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilisations heal. I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge — even wisdom. Like art.”

We need to ask ourselves whether this small, mean world is one we want to inhabit, one in which people turn on one another in the most base manner, deepening divisions and inequality, where free speech is meaningless, and lies become truth. Democracy is being tested, and those of us around the world who live in democracies (however flawed) must reassert our commitment to building accountable states, strengthening the rule of law and ensuring that democracy’s gains are spread equitably.

South Africa has not escaped the madness of Trump or Trumpian politics. Some among us openly support Trump, and the likes of AfriForum are comfortable spreading lies about a white genocide in our country.

Post-apartheid South Africa has always had a complex (some may say contradictory) foreign policy not always based on principle, and coloured, perhaps predictably, by the ANC’s own Struggle history.

Debacle at sea

In a world of Trumpian proportions, the ANC’s positions have come with further complications. It is into this world that the debacle regarding the Iranian warships’ participation in the maritime exercise Will for Peace 2026 in our waters creates more unwanted murkiness.

As Peter Fabricius writes, “Russia, China, South Africa, the United Arab Emirates and Iran actively participated in the exercise, from 9 to 16 January, with some other nations of the BRICS+ group observing.

“On 9 January, Ramaphosa ordered Iran’s withdrawal from the exercise after being alerted by the US embassy about how badly Iran’s participation would be viewed in Washington, at a time when Tehran was brutally suppressing protests and legislation to renew the Agoa trade agreement was going through Congress. However, the three Iranian vessels — a corvette and two support ships — continued to participate in the exercise through to the end.”

Last week, Defence Minister Angie Motshekga announced that she was appointing a board of inquiry into the incident. The board will report back in seven days on why President Cyril Ramaphosa’s instructions — which Motshekga said were “clearly communicated to all parties concerned, agreed upon, and to be implemented and adhered to as such” — were apparently not obeyed.

Given everything that happens in a day in our country, one cannot blame South Africans for not being as alarmed as we ought to be about this incident.

The story also has so many moving parts and characters that the average citizen could well have glazed over it all. So if a lawful instruction from the President, clearly communicated by the minister, was ignored, we can surely be forgiven for asking, “Who runs this place?” Civilian authority over the military is a core part of our constitutional DNA.

Given the multiple accounts of events, it is crucial that we know exactly what happened (including and especially through accountability to our Parliament) and that appropriate sanction follows. In a functional democracy, the rule of law demands consequences for wrongdoing, and as citizens, including a questioning media (our country is fortunate to have journalists willing to ask hard questions), we should agitate for this.

A proper reckoning

Democracy’s degradation around the world requires us to “stick to our knitting” here in our own country and fix our gaze on holding those in power to account.

It will also require a proper reckoning of how successive South African democratic (ANC-led) governments have failed the poor and marginalised, the corruption which has undermined effective governance and why so many have lost faith in democracy as a means to a more just and equal society.

Yet, flawed as democracies can be, the alternatives are unspeakable. A strong democracy, with accountable and responsive institutions, remains the only way to deal with the myriad challenges we face, from deep inequality to resource challenges, natural disasters, infrastructure neglect and ongoing corruption.

There are many in our own country who seek to break down the rule of law and tear down the democratic edifice itself. We must not allow the space for would-be dictators and populists. This will mean vigorously protecting and defending our constitutional rights because these rights are easily eroded.

A dangerous populist

So when the boorish Minister of Sport, Arts and Culture, Gayton McKenzie — a man who has openly threatened civil society organisations, who while district mayor in Beaufort West, vowed to make the Central Karoo an “illegal immigrant-free zone”, sending shivers down the spines of the Bangladeshi, Pakistani and Ethiopian communities — withdraws Gabrielle Goliath’s artwork Elegy from the South African pavilion at the Venice Biennale, this should not be met with silence.

McKenzie is a dangerous populist and hopelessly out of his depth in this portfolio. His recent speech in the UAE can only be described as deeply embarrassing.

The reasons given for the cancellation are, to say the least, vague and contradictory, including that the South African exhibition would be “hijacked by a foreign power”. What exactly does this mean?

McKenzie said, “When it was brought to my attention that a foreign country had allegedly undertaken to fund South Africa’s exhibition, this was raised as a concern with Art Periodic, who clarified that – according to their understanding – this foreign country had actually undertaken to purchase the artworks concerned following the conclusion of the Biennale.

“This foreign country has its own resources, so why not rent its own space and fund its own message to convey its feelings about Israel and Gaza?”

McKenzie had expressed concern about the entry in December, describing it as “highly divisive” for its references “to an ongoing international conflict that is widely polarising”.

The foreign power is apparently Qatar, though subsequent reporting has indicated that in fact the reference was to Qatar Museums. One suspects that McKenzie did not like or appreciate Elegy, which includes a commentary on Gaza and that he has little or no understanding of the art world.

The minister’s actions also beg the question: if he finds Elegy, as commentary on Gaza, “divisive”, what exactly is the Ramaphosa government’s view on this, having brought a case of genocide against Israel? Is Ramaphosa comfortable harbouring McKenzie in his Cabinet, even after the ham-handed decision on the Venice Biennale? As always, our President is a silent actor while fires rage all around him.

Free speech

The point larger than McKenzie’s right-wing instincts and politics is about democracy itself. Countries that censor ideas can never solve their challenges. Our Constitution enshrines the right to freedom of expression in section 16 of the Bill of Rights, which includes “freedom of the press and other media; freedom to receive or impart information or ideas; freedom of artistic creativity; academic freedom and freedom of scientific research”.

Although the list is non-exhaustive, it is notable that the Constitution makers chose to specify these particular forms of free speech. It is appropriate now to ask hard questions about what sort of public discourse we want: A polite one, in which people self-censor and repress their views? Or, a robust, thick-skinned one, in which the right to speak (in all its forms) is respected and is not met with intolerance or even violence, but with an equally vigorous rejoinder?

We should celebrate subversive tendencies in society as a means to strengthen democracy. It may be a messy, clumsy, even at times offensive process, yet it is important that we try to understand contrasting forms of expression and what they might mean for active, activist citizenship and our democracy.

Small-minded politicians like McKenzie, with insular world views, who speak in ill-informed tropes, will not understand this. It is for this reason that he remains unfit to hold his position. If Ramaphosa cared about freedom of expression and taking a stand for the things that matter, he would relieve McKenzie of his position immediately.

The world is in a precarious state. We cannot solve it all, but we can garden the patch of our own democracy and fight for it in a world which now favours those who would make everything in their own ignorant and intolerant image — small, mean and hard of heart. DM

Judith February is executive officer: Freedom Under Law and editor of Daily Maverick’s legal newsletter, Judith’s Prudence.