Ubuntu: more than a braai

This is the Sunday Independent opinion column from 1 September 2013

On the first day of Heritage Month, I wonder if I dare admit that I am only a limited fan of braaing, especially as I largely gave up red meat a couple of years back for health reasons, and have since felt all the better for it.

Heritage Month is about celebrating the best of what it means to be South African, in this beautiful land which we share, and across the whole breadth of our diversity. I’m sympathetic to the view that we should give greater prominence to ubuntu as the keystone of our common heritage. This is a distinctly southern African understanding of what it is to be truly human, through our participation in the humanity of others.

Beginning with ubuntu, rather than the braai, puts a completely different spin on how we approach this month. It’s not that I’m against braaing. Far from it! But I’d like us to move beyond focussing on lowest common denominators to which we can all sign up. For this can be seen as implying that our differences must otherwise dominate the way we view one another.

In contrast, ubuntu invites us to assume that our starting point, our real context, is what we have in common. We are all flesh and blood human beings who desire to live in peace, security and relative comfort with our nearest and dearest, able to bring up children in safety so they too may go on to lead lives that are, to a realistic degree, happy and fulfilling. When we recognise this in one another, differences such as race, language, culture and religion inevitably become secondary, and less significant.

On this basis, we can far more easily stand together, as we must, in tackling the divisions that ought to be opposed, such as the shocking economic disparities, because those who are on the wrong end of such differences are no longer seen as “them” but as “us”.
Of course this is a big ask, but we have to start where we are, and take what steps we can.

This week has been a good one for me in encountering ways in which ubuntu is alive and well, if only we have eyes to see. On Monday I was in Ulundi, where celebrations for Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi’s 85th birthday included unveiling a statue and a service of thanksgiving, at which I was privileged to preach. He, like his mother Princess Magogo, is a life-long Anglican, and has let his faith nurture his family and public life. However, one views the life he has devoted to politics, few can have been left untouched by the courageous and heart-breaking honesty with which he spoke about the death of two adult children from Aids. At a time of denialism, he spoke out, and gave a voice to the tens, even hundreds of thousands of South Africans who had lost a loved one to this pandemic, but who were trapped in the conspiracy of silence. He stood in solidarity with them all, and helped break the stigma and change how we dealt with this scourge.

Tuesday morning found me at the Constitutional Court ceremonial sitting to honour the late Judge Pius Langa, a former chief justice of our new democracy. I was privileged to call this outstanding man a friend. He was an amazing intellectual, yet always ensured his mind was informed by his heart and his soul. He understood, perhaps better than anyone I have ever met, the true meaning of the rule of law, and how the letter of the law must deliver the spirit of the law, in the service of constitution, country, and all its citizens. This also is the mark of authentic ubuntu.

I felt proud to be a South African, listening to speeches that praised all Judge Langa had achieved, yet also acknowledged there was still so much to be done to bring about a united, reconciled, non-racial society, free from the scourge of poverty. To walk this path, as many have said, requires selflessness and commitment to the public good – commitment to the realisation in practice of all that ubuntu stands for.

How to encourage a more stable and sustainable environment, in which workers also flourish, was at the heart of Tuesday’s mining lekgotla in Sandton. In the margins, I had a “mini-lekgotla” with top executives of Anglo American, and in genuine dialogue we brought the perspectives of faith and ethics into vigorous engagement with those of business and economics. How to promote better human flourishing of all, in whatever contexts we are part of, is a topic that should engage us all, particularly through holding conversations that bridge our differences – and here I also include age and political partisanship alongside the old familiar labels.

Within the context ubuntu provides, we can dare to pursue the robust honesty that is necessary if we are to get beyond superficial words and break down the barriers we have allowed to stand between us. Especially as we approach next year’s elections, we need to know, and make explicit, that we truly are all on the same side, and it is from this stance that we engage over differences.

Pope Francis recently lamented those who have “good manners and bad habits”, who say the right thing, and even argue for it publicly, but whose actions show a preference for staying within their own comfortable space, reluctant to take risks, and preferring the company of those like themselves. Bad manners also come in the “othering” of those who are not like us, and mentally placing them at a distance where they can conveniently be left, largely ignored. Cowardice, thuggery, corruption and worse can all hide behind the appearance of “good manners”.

So I want the fine words of public tributes, lekgotlas, and popular debate to be matched by action that goes the extra mile which ubuntu demands from us, and that grasps restorative opportunities. For example, I’d like to see those in the construction cartel not merely accepting their legal penalty, but making practical amends such as through delivering sanitation, toilets, schools and other necessary amenities in our neediest communities.

Taking that further, those who benefited from apartheid, and those who enjoy the legacies of those ill-gotten benefits, must consider this month the time to set in motion concrete steps to redress the balance. We must not be shy of talking about making financial reparations, and channelling these into areas like education where we can make the greatest difference. I’m already engaged in dialogue around such possibilities at Wits Business School. Heritage Month, and the moral imperatives of ubuntu call on us to intensify our focus and commitment.

And what about the rest of us? At the very least, I hope that at least once this month, when you fire up your braai, you will make sure that your invitations go beyond “the usual suspects” to embrace the new friends that ubuntu brings you.

Happy Heritage Month.

http://www.iol.co.za/sundayindependent/ubuntu-more-than-a-braai-1.1571257#.UiMgW-UaLIU

Tiyo Soga's Legacy: A Reflection on Restitution, Freedom of Information and Hate Speech

Archbishop Thabo Makgoba participated in the unveiling of the Memorial Tombstone to Revd Tiyo Soga on 9 September 2011, at Thuthura, Eastern Cape, using the following prayer. Below, the Archbishop offers a longer reflection on the lessons that we can learn for today, from this great South African intellectual and man of faith. Dr Makgoba comments on freedom of speech and the protection of information legislation, on hate speech and racial and sexist language, and on Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s recent remarks about restitution. An edited version of this reflection, “Singing from the Same Hymn Sheet” appeared in the Cape Times, of 16 September 2011 on page 9.

Let us pray: God our Creator, whose Son is the Way, the Truth and the Life, we ask you today to bless all who speak here, and all who listen – praying that, as St James writes in his epistle, we may be doers of the word, and not merely hearers. Make us your apostles of true freedom and democracy, so that we, following in the footsteps of our brother and forefather, Tiyo Soga, may bring true emancipation to those who are held captive by economic slavery.

God of Righteousness and Truth, fulfil in us your promises, by making us people of justice and integrity, who, like Tiyo Soga, not only sing a song of gospel liberation to the poor and downtrodden, but work to share our wealth.

We pray especially for the rural poor, that they may know the fulfilment of your promise never to leave or forsake your children. When times are hard, pour your Holy Spirit on us, speak your words of comfort and encouragement through us; move our hearts and strengthen our wills to act, so that we may bring the fulfilment of your promises of real hope and new life for all.

We ask this for your tender mercies’ sake. Amen.

Reflections on the life of Revd Tiyo Soga, and his legacy to us today

Participating in the unveiling of the Memorial Tombstone for Tiyo Soga has prompted me to reflect further on this remarkable African intellectual, and his legacy for our own times. What would this devout man, who aimed to take the best of international scholarship and give it expression in his own culture, say to South Africa today? What would the composer of the famous hymn, sung to open the first meeting of the South African Native National Congress in 1912, ‘Lizalis’ idinga lakho’, ‘Fulfil the Promise’, say about democratisation’s unfinished business of reconciliation and restitution? What lessons should we learn from his commitment to the ‘Lord, God of Truth’ (the words with which that hymn continues) for current debates around freedom of information, hate speech, and racist or sexist language? Tiyo Soga has a lot to teach us.

There is no doubt that Revd Tiyo Soga was an extraordinary individual. He was outstanding in his own generation, and remains outstanding as we reflect on his astonishing life, 140 years after his sadly young death. Others have recalled his achievements in greater detail than I, both in Thuthura at the unveiling of his Memorial Tombstone, and elsewhere. My father-in-law, Professor Cecil Manona, who researched and wrote on Tiyo Soga, gave me extensive material on this remarkable man, and his influence has remained with me.

Last week’s moving ceremony, attended by Tiyo Soga’s family members, together with former President Mbeki, the Provincial Premier, amaXhosa King Mpendulo Zwelonke Sigcawu, other politicians, traditional and religious leaders and figures from the business and wider community, has prompted me to consider what lessons should we learn for our own context, from this man who travelled (what must have seemed to a schoolboy from Chumie) incomparable distances into the unknown, in order to learn from the best the world had to offer, and then to translate it into his own language and culture? What does it mean for us as individuals, and for our nation, to draw on the best of today’s international experience and scholarship and root it in African soil, so that Africa’s children may grow and flourish?

Reflecting on these questions, I found my thoughts focussing on the central question of what it means for us today to ‘Fulfil our Promise, God, Lord of Truth’.

Fulfilling Promise poses us, I shall suggest, four challenges. First is a challenge to our nation, and our leadership, in this era of democracy. What is the promise for which so many struggled and even died, for which the seed was planted in 1912, and which blossomed in 1994? Where is the promised fruit of democracy and freedom?

We can point to global financial difficulties, and make other excuses, but there is no getting away from the truth that economic emancipation has not yet reached us all. Indeed, the divide between rich and poor has grown. And though it is now the case that among the richest 10%, 20%, 30% of South Africans, the majority are black – it remains true that the great, great majority of our population, our black population, remain exceedingly impoverished.

We know there have been great improvements, for example in provisions of water and electricity, but it has been no-where near enough to overcome the poverty trap in which so many are imprisoned, with little hope of escape. NGOs, charities and faith communities do what we can – but we are only scratching at the surface. Government must lead the way forward.

We often talk about the private sector coming to the party – but it is the government who must ensure there is a party, and a good party, to which others can be invited, and can turn up with confidence that all arrangements have been properly made! I am sure there is far greater willingness to come to the party than government realises – if only the rest of us knew for sure that there really is a party, and where it is being held, and how to get there!

Recently Archbishop Tutu got himself into hot water once again for speaking about reconciliation and restitution, and the unfinished business (indeed, the unfulfilled promise) of the TRC. And, as usual, the sorts of reports that followed focussed as much on the outrage as on the heart of the matter. But there is an important issue at stake – and it will not do to leave such unfinished business hanging in the air while continuing to complain at it. This is a recipe for a dangerous festering sore, not a solution.

Here is another party which the Government must organise. Mamphela Ramphele, in a public presentation for the Restitution Organisation earlier this year, said ‘The pain caused by Apartheid has been left to individuals to solve privately without any effective assistance from society.’[1][1] She is right that individuals, acting out of private motivation, cannot be expected to bear the burden of making amends. Nor can companies, one by one, however good their social responsibility programmes. And while we should be more than wary of punitive measures (indeed, the Arch said it could be something ‘quite piffling’[2][2]) and the imposition of inappropriate one-size-does-not-fit-all policies, it nonetheless surely must be the responsibility of Government to provide mechanisms for making amends.

No one else can provide the necessary guaranteed channels for ensuring tangible, sustainable, upliftment to those who continue to be most harmed by the legacies of our unjust past. If only government would provide such sure ways of making a true difference, how many more would be ready, even keen, to take such steps? But is it any wonder there is resistance, when the likelihood is that attempts at reparation will be lost without trace within a budget we are incapable of spending well on our country’s neediest people? And what of South Africa’s wealthy, of all backgrounds, who should also be given encouraging ways to contribute to a more just economy – as some of Europe and North America’s richest have recently been asking to do through higher taxation?

As Trevor Manuel put it so eloquently at the Parliamentary seminar on the Millennium Development Goals last week, service delivery – and our failures in service delivery – are not a question merely of money, but of how Government spends it. It seems that we have enough, more than enough, but we do not use it wisely or well. To put it another way, the budget is not fulfilling its promise – the promise that is well within its grasp, if only we work to make it so. When I look at the promise of the struggle, and at our difficulties today, I wonder if one of our major problems lies in the following: that in the past we taught people to struggle against; but we have not taught people that now we must struggle for, if we are to achieve that promise. Therefore we must learn new ways of struggling, and struggling together:

• struggling through hard work, dedication, commitment, and going the full distance

• struggling through refusing to settle for second best, for corruption, for corner-cutting, for laziness

• struggling through holding one another to the highest standards,

• struggling through being prepared to work for the good of everyone, not just me and my cronies,

• struggling through believing our country truly can be all it promises to be.

Only through such struggling together, can we ensure a re-engineering of past discriminatory attitudes and practices and their persisting legacies.

All this brings me to the second challenge to fulfil our promise. It is the challenge of the youth of today.

For once I am not speaking about offering a challenge to the youth – but rather, about the challenge that the youth are giving to us, today’s leaders. This challenge demands that we recognise that too often we have been selling empty promises to the generation now in their twenties, even thirties – empty, unfulfilled, promises of instant improvements in education and employment, as if all these would come with the single wave of a democratic wand. We promised, but we did not deliver. Perhaps we were too exhausted when democracy came. Perhaps we just assumed that another generation would pick up the baton where we left off, and carry it forward themselves. Perhaps, we reached crucial compromises far too quickly. Perhaps we did not realise that the youth too needed to be ‘conscientised’ into the promise, and the struggle needed to achieve it – in their own time and context, as we were in ours.

For Julius Malema is not wrong when he cries out for the youth of today – when he cries out for justice in education, in employment, in opportunity, in economic emancipation and empowerment. But he is wrong in how he thinks these can be achieved, and in leading others to believe in these unworkable solutions. We need to share the hope, promise and detail of the new struggle with the new generation – for so far, we have failed to do so adequately.

It is far easier to struggle against, than to struggle for. As the demonstrations outside Luthuli House last week showed vividly, it is far easier to break down and destroy than it is to create and build.

But democracy also requires a struggle – making democracy work requires effort and commitment. Democracy was not a destination – rather, it is a new way of life, which comes with the promise of true fruit for all, provided we are prepared to tend the plant so it can grow and flourish. In the same way, Tiyo Soga’s legacy, the promise in which he believed, and which he worked to deliver, is one of creating a new society, and building a new nation – laying the foundations from the best that we can see around us.

It is not enough to criticise what is wrong. True, we need to get our analysis right. But that is drawing the map. It is not even taking the first step into the future that, if only we had eyes to see, still remains so full of promise, so ready to bear lasting, tangible fruit.

Yet we certainly must be free to criticise what is wrong. Tiyo Soga’s hymn continues: Fulfil your Promise, God, Lord of Truth. Though the phrase ‘speaking truth to power’ is more recent, Tiyo Soga certainly lived by it – both criticising the colonial powers, and refusing to be co-opted by Maqoma, telling the Xhosa chief that he served only God – ‘There is another King …’

Surely to honour his legacy means, at the very least, that we must have a public interest defence clause in the Protection of Information legislation. I fully support the efforts spearheaded by the Right to Know Campaign, with their march on Parliament on 17 September, to call for its inclusion, even at this late hour of the legislative process. I am also appalled that Cosatu members should be arrested and deported from Swaziland to prevent them speaking up for democracy and human rights – though I am glad they are not being charged within Swaziland for promoting regime change.

Freedom of speech is entrenched in our Constitution – and rightly so, because it is a part of the necessary bed-rock of democratic life. But this does not mean we can and should say anything, anywhere, merely on the grounds that we claim it is ‘truth’. Nor should restraint merely consist in establishing the maximum we can get away with when arguing before the courts. No, freedom of speech touches on the very essence of what it is to be human, and to be committed to the wellbeing of other human beings. This is at the core of religious belief – though it is not exclusively the perspective of the religious, as illustrated by the ancient concept of the Greek philosophers of ‘the common good’. Our best speaking is what builds up our communities, our society, our nation.

Hate speech is not merely a legal category. It is, as I have said often before (when people have been called ‘snakes’ and ‘dogs’ and worse), any utterance that diminishes and degrades other human beings, other children of God. More than this, it diminishes and degrades not only its target, but also the speaker – for it demonstrates a general failure to understand and respect people at large. The same is true of those who resort to racial epithets, or demeaning sexual slurs, as are also in the news. Pretending to humour is no excuse. Whether such words break the law may be open to debate. What is beyond question is that it all undermines our capacity to ‘fulfil the promise’ of democracy, through building the sort of individual character and mature society which will help create the opportunity for every citizen to flourish. Hate speech, racist talk, sexist language only oppresses and imprisons. We must denounce it all, and instead speak the ‘truth’ of Tiyo Soga – the truth that underpins true democracy, that emancipates and liberates; the truth of the one King whom Tiyo Soga followed, Jesus, who told the world ‘the truth shall set you free’.

So now comes my third challenge of what it means to fulfil our promise. It is a challenge to Tiyo Soga’s direct heirs – South Africa’s religious leaders. One definition of a preacher in the pulpit is someone who stands ‘six feet above contradiction’! It is easy enough for us to declaim our sermons! But that is not enough. In his new Testament Letter, St James says we should ‘be doers of the word and not merely hearers who deceive themselves’ (Jas 1:22). In the same way, we who preach should be doers of the word and not merely speakers, deceiving ourselves and others.

That said, it is not our role to do government’s job for them; nor to be social workers; nor environmental activists; nor political commentators; nor economic gurus. These are all areas with which we must engage – but we must do so, bearing the promised fruit of our own unique place within society. We have a special responsibility to provide the moral compass, a clear vision of justice, of freedom, of honesty, of truth. We must demonstrate what it means to be truly human – created, as many of us say, in the image of God, and so bearing intrinsic dignity, and worthy of respect, from the smallest child and the roughest old bergie, to Archbishops and Presidents. None is more valuable in the eyes of God.

We must walk the walk and talk the talk – modelling servant leadership exercised for the well-being of those entrusted to us; taking special care of the suffering and needy; standing in solidarity with the marginalised and excluded; helping the voiceless find their voice; being a full part of democracies processes of debate and mutual accountability. We must show what true stewardship is about – another essential aspect of contemporary leadership in a world of finite resources, where we increasingly risk destroying our home, the only home there is for ourselves, our children and our children’s children, for the sake of short term gains enjoyed by the few. We must provide moral, ethical, resources; and help others understand how to apply them in every walk of life.

And finally, we must point to the fourth challenge that arises from Tiyo Soga’s hymn title ‘Fulfil your promise’. For these words are a prayer – that God himself will fulfil his promises to us. They are a prayer to which we can all say ‘Amen’ with confidence. For the vision that the Bible offers – the very Bible that says more about poverty and economics than it does about prayer – is that though God condemns those who exploit, or even merely ignore, the poor; far more than that, he delights to bring blessing wherever people pursue justice and mercy.

The prophet Amos says ‘Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.’ He says ‘Seek the Lord, and live; seek good and not evil, and the Lord, the God of hosts, will be with you’ (Amos 5:24; 6, 14). This is the promise that is sure and certain – that when we do what God calls us to do; when we seek justice and mercy, when we seek righteousness and truth, when we seek the economic emancipation of the poor, affordable health-care for all the sick, decent education for every South African child, efficient service delivery, effective rural development, tangible mechanisms for appropriate reparations … – when we seek the true flourishing of every individual, every community, all of society – then we can be assured that God will indeed be with us.

When our hearts, our minds, our commitments, are in the right place, God will help us know what is the right thing to do. God will help us have the insight to know how to take it forward. God will help us have the will-power to see it through. When we seek to do what is right, what is good – then God will indeed help us fulfil our promise. This is his promise, and he guarantees to fulfil it.

Therefore, let me end with words of prayer, from the final verse of Tiyo Soga’s hymn, ‘Fulfil your promise’: ‘O Lord, bless the teachings of our land; Please revive us, that we may restore goodness.’

May it indeed be so. Amen.

Note for Editors: Tiyo Soga was the first ordained African Presbyterian minister in South Africa, an African intellectual who translated parts of the Bible, Pilgrim’s Progress and other works, into Xhosa, and wrote a great number of hymns, many of which are still sung today.

Born in 1829, at Mgwali, near King William’s Town, he attended the Lovedale Missionary Institute, and when the principal returned to Scotland during the War of the Axe in 1846, Soga went with him, and continued his studies. He returned to South Africa after being baptised, but later went back to Scotland to study theology further. In 1856 Soga became the first black South African to be ordained in the Presbyterian Church. He married a Scottish woman, Janet Burnside, with whom he subsequently had seven children, several of whom had significant careers in South Africa and Scotland. In 1857 they returned to South Africa, where Soga worked as a catechist, evangelist, hymn-writer and interpreter. He died at Thuthura in 1871, of a persistent throat infection, exacerbated by overwork.

Restitution in South Africa

The following article has appeared on the website of The Restitution Foundation (http://restitution.org.za/2011/08/the-most-rev-dr-thabo-makgoba-anglican-archbishop-of-cape-town-2/). They would welcome any comments you might have.

Restitution in South Africa has many facets which could make valuable contributions to the building of the society for which we long to see.

From the perspective of our Constitution, restitution upholds the cherished values of freedom, equality and human dignity. It has the possibility of deepening social cohesion and enabling South Africans to redress past wrongs and move forward together.

As a person of faith, I believe restitution is quite simply, the ‘right thing to do.’

‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth’ is the biblical foundation for retributive justice which is often put forward in such discussions.

However, there is another perspective, namely, a restorative way. This way is held by at least seven of the world’s great religions. It is mostly referred to as the Golden Rule – that we are called to care for others as we would like to be cared for ourselves. It seems so simple and yet we experience it to be quite difficult at times. Indeed, the history of our country would be quite different if we had begun long ago to live by this rule. That is our past, with which we must amend and make peace- hence our need for restitution.

At a practical, restorative level, perhaps the State, in partnership with business, should enact symbolic repentance. The State should hand over state land for communal purposes and business should assist the recipients of this land in addressing current lack of skills, socio- economic disparities and joblessness.

Today holds a key for tomorrow, our future. Let us not repeat our past mistakes. Let us care for others as we would wish to be cared for ourselves.