by Justin Foxton | Apr 28, 2017 | Citizen Participation, Democracy, Leadership
Writers and commentators have been referencing South Africa’s politics in theatrical terms. Words like “Shakespearean”, “tragi-comedy” and “drama” have been used to describe recent events.
Depending on which side of the political divide you occupy, central characters – Pravin Gordhan, Mcebesi Jonas, Jacob Zuma, Ahmed Kathrada, Gwede Mantashe et al – would be to you either villain or hero.
And then came the recent Easter break when the curtain fell for interval. Apart from the unseemly off-stage spat that played out between the two drama-queens playing the part of Police Minister Berning Ntlemeza and Fikile Mbalula, the actors took a break and the audience enjoyed some well-earned respite from the break-neck pace of the show.
But the theatrical metaphor is good only to a point. Thereafter it becomes misleading and possibly even demobilising. Whilst it works for the main characters, it assumes that the citizenry plays the part of the audience; passive spectators laughing, clapping, crying and jeering with no impact on the unfolding narrative after buying our tickets – read paying our taxes and voting. This of course has – with some notable exceptions – been dishearteningly true, as we have sat back and watched the unfolding story of the first two decades of our democracy. There are two main reasons for this passivity: either we believed what the show’s poster promised, or we hoped that that the whole production would be a flop so we could say; “I told you so!”. Either way – we are all now in a witch’s brew of Macbethian proportions asking how we got here and wishing we could go back and rewrite the script. Perhaps something like: “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”?
But take heart; the end of the first half saw the drama take a turn. As Pravin Gordhan became an unlikely romantic lead, the thing became edge-of-your-seat edgy; alive; even dangerous – in a good way. And as the tension rose, so too did the dissatisfied rumbles and dissenting mutterings of the audience; the resultant metaphorical raining of raw eggs and tomatoes on the underperforming players, turned into a full-on storming of the stage.
And apart from the usual antics of the leads and some very unusual dramatic timing; Ahmed Kathrada’s death, Zuma and Gordhan sharing a birthday in the middle of it all – stuff you wouldn’t script for fear of being dubbed corny – the audience is what has made this the beginning of the end of this current drama. For the most significant time in nearly two decades, huge numbers of us rose, donned our costumes, took up our props and stormed the stage. And whilst the whole devilish plot was designed to force us to look stage left whilst the villains walked off with the treasure stage right; whilst crafty sleight-of-hand was being used to sow division through carefully constructed PR campaigns and the manufacture of terms like radical economic transformation- the fog was clearing and the audience was murmuring about the rottenness in the state.
And from here – more and more – the show becomes totally interactive; the audience is now on stage and in many cases becoming the lead players. This is the drama of democracy at its best; it’s most healthy. He is a very calculating President but not even he could have predicted this. He took a chance that we would – as we have always done – sit and watch. But it backfired badly. Ironically his attempts to divide and conquer resulted in us uniting and fighting back. And a new narrative has begun; of that there is no doubt.
A caution as the bell rings for interval: we mustn’t be tempted to return to our seats. The show is nowhere near over. The break simply allowed us to draw breath, gather our strength and storm the stage again. Who knows how many times we must do this? I imagine many, many times more.
And this must not be interpreted as just marching – that’s just the marketing campaign for the show. I wrote recently about each of us taking the time to determine our unique role in this drama. But this is very tough for most of us because we simply do not know what to do. But we must not sit. We must stand up and walk out; onto the streets and into the malls, offices and places of worship in our communities. And once there, we must be better than those who are working to destroy us and our country. Yes, we must speak out against them, but then we must be the opposite of them too; defy the label of “racist” by being uncompromisingly non-racist; enact “radical economic transformation” by being radically generous with our time, money and expertise; be unscrupulously honest and incorruptible in all our dealings.
This is the formula for a new narrative: we must push and pull. That means that we do not only protest against something old and rotten but we create something altogether new and healthy.
The excitement is building as we enter the most challenging but also the most exciting stage of or drama.
Thank you Mr President for creating the perfect conditions.
Justin Foxton is founder of The Peace Agency.
His writing is dedicated to the memory of Anene Booysens and Emmanuel Josias Sithole.
by Justin Foxton | Dec 21, 2016 | Citizen Participation, Leadership
If you have read this column before you will know that I promote positive dialogue and peaceful change. However, practising what I preach is a daily effort and I fail more often than I succeed.
However, this is not my fault. This is the fault of a small handful of people who make thinking happy and peaceful thoughts virtually impossible. Now, I don’t condone violence of any kind. However, I totally relate if you have ever experienced an overwhelming urge to climb into your television (or newspaper) and slap the person inside.
This rather uncharitable-but-oh-so-delightful notion came up at a recent family Christmas lunch. We were talking about the events of this tumultuous year and the enormous personalities that shaped it and the conversation quickly degenerated into who had had the most “slap-able face” of 2016.
I kicked off proceedings by voicing my near pathological desire to slap SABC dictator Hlaudi Motsoeneng and this seemed to open the floodgates. My dear mother pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and hissed “Zuma” under her breath, glancing about her to make sure he wasn’t sitting at the next table. My sister who lives in England, looked equally sour and tabled pro-Brexit UKIP leader Nigel Farage.
Now my wife Cathy can watch a Springbok rugby match only when Faf de Klerk is not in view. When he appears in shot she squeals and races out of the TV room only returning when he is gone. This makes for an exhausting 90 minutes for the whole family.
All this got me thinking how we could best channel this dark and delicious energy into something productive and even cathartic. And then it dawned on me: we need an International “Slap-able Face of the Year” competition. It can have real judges, a big glitzy Oscars-style event and we can get our very own Trevor Noah (not in the least bit slap-able) to host it. Maybe we can get big name sponsors (but not, I repeat not the infinitely slap-able Gupta brothers).
And so it began. From its humble beginnings at a curry restaurant in Tinley Manor, the International Slap-able Face of the Year competition now finds itself splashed all over the newspapers.
My on and offline call for nominations was heeded like a battle cry. People from all over the world climbed in. It seems that the world (well 20 or so friends and family) was just waiting for the opportunity to cyber-slap their (anti) heroes.
So, without further ado I am proud to announce the finalists of the inaugural edition of this major international competition. They are (in no order): Nigel Farage, Ajay Gupta, Atul Gupta, Hlaudi Motsoeneng, Lewis Hamilton, Donald Trump, Julius Malema, Vladimir Putin, Faf de Klerk (just the 1 vote), Kanye West, Chris Brown, all the Kardashians, Syrian president Bashar al-Assad, every woman who voted for Donal Trump, every person who voted for Brexit, Brock Turner, Boris Johnson, Bill Cosby and Sylvester Stallone (“because he always looks like he’s just been slapped!”).
Now interestingly, our very own President Jacob Zuma was only nominated twice. This is surprising because as far as straight slap-ability goes, I would have thought he would be top of the pops. Have we forgotten his TV “apology” after Chief Justice Mogoeng Mogoeng’s (very unslap-able) judgement on Nkandla? Could we all – regardless of political affiliation – not have taken a little jog to Luthuli House and smacked him? I know I could have. My only explanation is that we don’t want to see him win anything ever again not even the Annual Slap-able Face of the Year Competition.
Now before you all explode from sheer anticipation I would like to announce the winners of the competition. Due to a lack of funds, Cathy and I are the only judges of this inaugural event and the venue for the gala event is our living room. This year we are toasting the winners (and of course those who did not win; please don’t try again next year) with a cup of tea but next year we are sure it will be Bollinger at the Dolby Theatre in Los Angeles.
In the International category of most Slap-able Face of the Year, in runner up position we have a tie between Vladimir Putin and Boris Johnson. And the overall winner is everyone’s favourite sentient naartjie (thank you to whoever coined this wondrous description) Donald Trump.
The runner up in the South African category is our very own EFF President Juju Malema. Seems that his svelte new image has done little to reduce his overall slap-ability. And the run-away winner, happy-to-have-you-entertaining-our kids-every-night (not), the SABC’s (or is he still?) Hlaudi Motsoeneng (and the crowd goes wild – literally).
We would like to launch a brand-new category for the most Slap-able Human Being in the Entire Galaxy as we know it and Possibly of all History. And the winner is? Faf de Klerk! Wooohooo!
Apologies for that interruption. I just popped out to make tea and Cathy hijacked my laptop. There will be no most slap-able face in the galaxy/history category next year. It’s just silly.)
So, there you have it. The end of a truly slap-able year.
Until next year, goodnight from the Foxtons living room.
Justin Foxton is founder of The Peace Agency.
This column is dedicated to the memory of 17-year-old Anene Booysens: gang raped, mutilated and murdered, and our Mozambican brother Emmanuel Josias Sithole: beaten and stabbed to death.
by Justin Foxton | Nov 10, 2016 | Citizen Participation, Crime & Corruption, Democracy, Leadership
“Just as the power of water often lies in the ability to bend around obstacles, sometimes the most powerful step you can take is a step back”.
Advocate Thuli Madonsela posted this quote on her Twitter timeline just hours after last Wednesday’s release of her State of Capture report. The quote was not direct and not credited to anyone which made it more of a note-to-self than anything.
I have always had a sense of this woman’s unique ability to intuit the metaphysical and spiritual requirements of the moment beyond the physical aspects of her work as our Public Protector. Without naming it as such, I believe this is why most of us esteem her as we do. We in turn intuit the extent of her impact rather than just see, hear or feel it. Madiba elicited the same response. The fact that her response to the release of this final labour-of-love was to step back, should confirm what we may have sensed all along; that she is as much a spiritual leader as anything else. This is not a badge of honour and certainly not a mantle that I would expect her to wear comfortably, but that very fact would serve as further proof of the hypothesis.
When I say spiritual leader, I am not using this term in any kind of religious way, although that is how she – and indeed perhaps you the reader – chooses to give expression to spirituality. I am talking about a leader who “leads from the deep” as it were; from beneath the heart level; from that level of intuition that exists in those that understand that to fall is to rise; to step back at the right time is the ultimate power-move. As my favourite Franciscan Friar Richard Rohr puts it, the power of “falling upward”. Is this servant leadership? Yes, in its very purest form.
Thuli Madonsela is a person who understands what it means to lead in such a way. How can we tell this? Because in her finest hour, she knew instinctively that her most powerful response would be to step out of the limelight and into the shadows. She knew that for her work to have the maximum power and impact, she was going to need to humble herself and – without taking so much as a bow – exit stage left. This would allow the necessary processes to unfold untainted and uncluttered by her presence. The job was done.
Now, had I been her, I would have booked interviews on every radio and TV station possible. I would have made sure that the whole dang world knew how great I was. I would have got someone to sky-write “Justin For President” but pretended it was just an adoring fan. I would have planned the release of my book – entitled “Just in Time – How I saved South Africa” – to coincide with the release of this report. There would have been mugs, pens, t-shirts – the works. Now come on admit it; you would have been tempted to do the same and shore up your fame and fortune for good.
But she chose to post a quote about stepping back. Why? Firstly, she knows that we are ultimately only ever as powerful as we are humble. That is the conundrum of falling upward. The extent to which our ego is in control determines our impact for good in the world. Alas, this does not mean that ego-driven human beings will not become powerful leaders. It simply means that their legacy of positive impact is an illusion that will ultimately fade and die.
Secondly, by leading from this place of humility she will have sensed that in the days and weeks following the release of this damning report, crooks and cronies would come crawling out from under their rocks to try and discredit her. By stepping back she would give them nothing new to say. They would simply have to follow legal processes; not something that criminals like to do.
And finally, she drew a line in the sand and said, this job is now done; this fight is fought. I can now rest and prepare for the next challenge – whatever that may be.
Of course, there is also an implicit challenge in Madonsela’s above quote. It is her time to step back but where does that leave us? It is most certainly not our time to step back. As our Public Protector, she left us her legacy as well as lessons and of course tools to step forward and continue the fight for our democracy. But the battle is far from over. As Vytjie Mentor said, we are the same now as we were before the report. What can we do to ensure that South Africa emerges victorious from this battle for her soul?
I do not have 3 steps you can follow here, but I do know that our role in the process will come to each of us as we seek to lead humbly where we are and as we understand that each of us must play our part – however big or small – in the healing of our nation.
This – more than any report – is the greatest legacy that Thuli Madonsela leaves us.
#leadlikethuli
Justin Foxton is founder of The Peace Agency.
This column is dedicated to the memory of 17-year-old Anene Booysens: gang raped, mutilated and murdered, and our Mozambican brother Emmanuel Josias Sithole: beaten and stabbed to death.
by Justin Foxton | May 2, 2016 | Leadership, Women & Gender Issues
Whether one is religious or not, so much can be learned from the life and leadership of Pope Francis. In the blink of an eye he has transformed the Papal office in ways that will materially affect not only the Roman Catholic Church, but the spiritual and indeed physical lives of generations to come. He has done this by working hard, eschewing the trappings of the position and resisting the temptation to settle into the comfort of being a benign figure-head. In short he has decided to live simply and with love – surely the mandate of all leaders religious or otherwise. He places the foundational issues of justice, mercy and compassion at the top of the agenda and sets aside all pomp and ceremony to ensure that this mandate is met.
Some of course say that he is too real; too down-to-earth, maybe not ‘regal’ enough to be a pope. But this demonstrates a lack of understanding of his Spiritual father and namesake Saint Francis of Assisi and the simple mission of love and compassion that he embodied. The Pope would echo St. Francis’s famous petition: “Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.”
But what ensures that this man’s name will be etched in the annals of not only religious, but secular history is that he has crossed over to the dark side as it were; he has got out from behind the pulpit and he has entered the domain of real life, off-limits to many religious leaders. For far too long the church has remained largely passive on issues of politics, justice, human rights, race, equality, lawfulness, poverty – ironically all the things that Christ spoke of a great deal. It has preferred to play it safe and keep its rent payers happy by being vocal about what it deems to be the greater sins; abortion, contraception, homosexuality, worship of other Gods etc.
This Pope is working to turn all that on its head, and is for a great deal more than he is against. He is all too aware that a church that remains in church may just as well not exist. He is also radically inclusive and this is setting people free, something that the church has historically traded on preventing.
I have followed this man since his ordination and have been endlessly inspired by his feet-washing brand of leadership. But I was totally winded by what he did last week on Lesbos island in Greece. He went to this island – a primary gateway for refugees to Europe – to witness first-hand the devastation caused by Europe closing its borders to refugees. This was a radical move in itself.
But the billed main feature of the trip was quite foreign for a Pontiff. After a tour of the refugee detention facility, he sat down for lunch with some of the 3,000 plus men, women and children being held in overcrowded conditions awaiting their likely deportation. At the end of this emotional and deeply symbolic visit he did the unimaginable; he acted out his counsel that refugees be embraced, not shunned by taking 12 Syrians – Muslims to boot — including six children — back to the Vatican with him. In an act of kindness bordering on the irresponsible – even scandalous – he did the religious equivalent of giving Europe’s leaders the middle finger.
What do we make of this? Do we dismiss it as posturing, reject it for its clear political message – or do we perhaps accept it for what I believe it was first-and-foremost meant to provide; a new life for 12 people. And might we even ask: “If he can do this – why can’t I?” Or is that taking things too far because he is, after all, the Pope.
This kind of leadership can inspire us if we are prepared to be brave and let it. It can cause us to ask: “What can I do to play a role in a world – a country – that is seemingly so broken?”
And lest you imagine that this trip was all about the grand gesture, we can perhaps learn and be inspired even more by the less documented parts of his trip; parts that might speak to us even louder than the saving of the 12. As Francis made his way through the camp — surrounded by high fences and patrolled by police — he greeted observant Muslim women who had their scarves pulled over their hair, by placing his hand respectfully above his heart and bowing. In these small but powerful gestures, Francis invites us to shrug off our bigotry and become radically inclusive of all races, religions and orientations. And little children handed Francis gifts – drawings they had done for him. One little girl tried to fold up her artwork, presumably to make it easier for Francis to carry. I believe that in this moment years of contemplation and a life of love welled to the surface for Francis as he said to the little girl: “Don’t fold it. I want it on my desk.”
Justin Foxton is founder of The Peace Agency.
This column is dedicated to the memory of 17-year-old Anene Booysens: gang raped, mutilated and murdered, and our Mozambican brother Emmanuel Josias Sithole: beaten and stabbed to death.
by Justin Foxton | Apr 14, 2014 | Citizen Participation, Leadership
“A leader is a dealer in hope.” Napoleon Bonaparte.
It is nearly 20 years since the dawn of democracy in South Africa and the most pressing question that I believe needs asking is not whether or not we have a good story to tell – we do. The more urgent question is do we have hope for the next 20 years?
You see in 1994 – the baked bean and kerosene lamp brigade aside – we were infused with almost supernatural levels of hope; we were buoyed up on a wave of international goodwill and our national pride was at fever pitch. We had the world’s most revered statesman at the helm and the world’s most beloved cleric making petition in the heavenlys on our behalf. We embodied hope.
Now hope is a very powerful thing. With hope anything is possible. Without it, nothing is possible. It can be argued that 1994 – and the ensuing 20 years – happened because we had hope that it would.
Psychologist Charles Snyder was one of the first developers of positive psychology and created his “hope theory” while on sabbatical from the University of Kansas. He observed people and interacted with them and through these observations came up with his own definition of hope: “Hope” he said; “is the sum of the mental willpower and waypower that you have for your goals.” In layman’s terms, hope is the fuel that fires the engine of change; it is the oomph that converts invisible dreams into seen realities.
And in Mandela we had one of the greatest “dealers in hope” of all history. He outlined the vision, gave us a road-map and then supercharged us with hope that it was infinitely doable. There was no chance of failure because the sum of our collective hope was driving us towards the vision that had been created for us; a united nation.
Over the next 20 years the story unfolded and it was indeed a good story; institutionalised racism was abolished along with its degrading and humiliating laws and practices; the disenfranchised majority had their right to vote restored to them; the poorest of the poor received financial aid from government; murder rates began to come down; millions were given access to houses, water and electricity; we staged arguably the finest football World Cup in history and praise be to the Almighty we won the Rugby World Cup – twice!
But as we did all this the oddest thing was happening; hope was waning. Cinderella- like it seemed that the magic was fading, midnight was fast approaching and soon we would be left with nothing but the memories of an all-too-short flirtation with a prince called democracy.
What caused this gradual loss of hope? Was it simply natural attrition; the fact that we simply couldn’t go on operating at those heady levels of post 1994 hope? Or was there something more to it?
I believe we could still be riding the crest of that wave were it not for two factors:
Back to the Cinderella story, the magic was always going to run out – it was only ever a matter of time. It was up to Cinderella to make her impression on the prince so that the magic was no longer an external force but an internal reality. She did that. We haven’t yet. The Madiba Magic as we called it – aka hope – has gone and we are left staring out into the midnight sky, waiting for another saviour to return with more magic. The thing we have done least well over the past 20 years is not economic, political or social. It is quite simply that we – you and I – have failed to keep hope alive. We have failed to become leaders in our own circles; leaders who deal in hope. Instead we have immersed ourselves in cynicism, self-pity, negativity and criticism, effectively killing the magic.
The second factor that has killed the magic is that our political leaders have not dealt in hope either. They have dealt in lies, deceit, cover-ups, drugs, spin – you name it – everything but hope. And what robs citizens of a democracy of hope more than anything else is when political leaders consistently failing to pay back what they have stolen, apologise for the wrongs they have committed and resign from office when they are found guilty. Nothing destroys faith in democracy quicker and more irrevocably than a lack of accountability.
Hope will be restored when two things happen: when we decide to put leaders who are dealers in hope into positions of power and when each of us makes an intentional choice to become a dealer in hope.
Then the magic will return.
This column is dedicated to the memory of 17 year old Anene Booysen: gang raped, mutilated and murdered.
