Evita's State of the Nation Address

1 October 2008: President Thanbo Mbeki has been recalled by the African
National Congress. A caretaker-president Kgalema Montlanthe will replace
him till the 2009 Election when it is believed that the President of the ANC,
Jacob Zuma, will become President of South Africa.
Mrs Evita Bezuidenhout, former South African Ambassador to the Homeland
Republic of Bapetikosweti and known to Dutch theatre audiences, has
released her impressions of the State of her Nation.

Let me start by sharing a State Secret with you about the State of the
Nation. The nation is fine. There is no crisis. It is business most unusual,
but not surprising. One would expect this fourteen-year old democracy to
once again prove itself to be unique.

We do not follow some blueprint for survival. We are the blueprint. Only
we would swop a former president with a degree in economics and the vision
of an African Renaissance, for a possible future president with a Grade Six
education and a machinegun in his song. Jacob Zuma still has a few months in which
to find his missing 'umshini wami'. Meanwhile: the nation is fine.

In a democracy it is normal to be surprised by change. As the great Greek
philosopher Daelius Hertus said: "If democracy is too good to share with
just anyone, it is time to ask the question: Quo Vadis." So where to?
Apartheid was democracy for the few. So South Africa did ask that question.
"Quo Vadis? So where to?"

In 1976, Soweto shook the foundations of the land. "Liberation before Education"
became the war cry of the Struggle and eventually we got liberation at
the cost of a generation without education. 1990 was another sinkhole that
swallowed up a bad political mistake called seperate development and replaced it with
an impossible dream come true. Reconciliation.

We whites got away with
apartheid. There was no Nuremburg Trial. None of us was hung like Saddam Hussein for
crimes against humanity. In fact President Nelson Mandela even invited
some of us to join his Government of National Unity. 1994 became the first year
in the life of this new chance for all called Rainbow Nation. Then after a
glorious five years with Nelson Mandela as our first democratically-elected
president, he stepped down - which is very un-African - and made way for the vision
of Thabo Mbeki.

Once I got over the shock that the name "Thabo" was an anagram for
"Botha", I realized that this was not just politics as usual. It was a calling.
Thabo Mbeki had been planning his campaign for 30 years, sipping whisky in a
Brighton hotel during his many years of exile. He was not the favourite to succeed
Madiba. But as an eventual graduate from the University of Moscow and a
Stalinist Cum Laude, he soon cut our democratic foot to fit his
authoritarian shoe. The rich got richer and the poor just became a statistic.
"Ignore them and they will go away" was the shrug of commitment from the
Union Buildings in Pretoria, and the countless sufferers of the HI-virus did go
away in spite of the generous helpings of beetroot, African potatoes and
garlic from Mbeki's Minister of Health.

I was always very impressed by Thabo Mbeki. Not only did he look so nice
in his little suits, his hair was always neat and even though we had to put
Tipex in his beard to make him look older and more distinguished, he eventually
grew into the image of leader and visionary. His speeches were legendary. They
overwhelmed me with their brilliance. I never knew what he meant, but he
said it so nicely, quoting from Shakespeare, Woolworths and Thesaurus. But he
was never here. On the few occasions when Thabo Mbeki came to South Africa on
his short state visits, it was usually only before an election to show a
human side to his Mbekivellian designs. He would hug children, kiss old ladies
and shake hands. He became a man of the people. What we didn't know was
that after the cameras left, he would vomit for hours, allergic to the touch
of the common populace.

In Afrikaans we say: "wat jy saai, sal jy maai" - what you sow you will reap.
Whereas in Shakespeare, enemies were dispatched by knife, sword or pike,
in Thabo's world they were either swallowed up by the ANCs collective
leadership, sent to Taiwan as ambassador, or elbowed out into the real world of
business and commerce. Then came the party congress in Polokwane, the ANC's
Rubicon. Like P.W. Botha, who was eventually washed off his pedestal by the waves
of farewell after his famous speech, Thabo was spectacularily stranded on
the sandbank of irrelevance by the recent Zunami. It brought home that fatal
lesson: never take democracy for granted.

Two centres of power emerged: the Mbekivellians to the right and the
Jacobians to the left. In an upside-down political turmoil the lowest common
denominator tends to float on top. The nation was appalled to see the likes of a
Julius Malema and his ANC Youth League annexing the media headlines with cries
to kill and eliminate. The tripartite alliance (from apartheid to tripartite?
Does history always repeat itself in rhyme and rythmn?) from Communist to
Trade Unionist was demanding pieces of the milktart of power. But democracy is
not the motionless stone statue of a roaring lion. It is a shaggy old dog
that needs to give itself a good shake every now and then so that the fleas
can fall off. In the last week the fattest fleas have flown in all directions.
The Angel of Death, formerly Minister of Health, is now in the Presidency as
Minister, having taken over from the Eminence Gris, Essop the Dour. I
once met Comrade Pahad in a dark passage and thought I'd be catapulted into the
underworld of "The Lord of the Rings." The King of the Orcs! But Manto
Tsabalala-Msimang is happy away from Health. She will now always be near
the Cabinet!

The Minister of Intelligence is also gone. Ronnie Kasrils was always more
the one and less of the other. They say he was better off with his former
portfolio where he could smoke examples of his forestry. Terror Lekota, the
Minister of War, is gone and left us with expensive boats that don't sail, priceless
submarines that won't submerge, state-of-the-art fighter planes that rust
on the ground and a wish list of a few more billion rands worth of
heavy-muscle armaments. We still don't know who the enemy is. Maybe we the people were
seen as the greatest enemy and we have paid the price in hard-earned rands as a result?

While the Crown Prince of the ANC dances in his feathers and rare and
protected animal skins and assagaais and spears, the party managed to stop the
roundabout of chaos and take stock. ANC no longer stood for 'African National
Congress' but 'A Nice Cheque'. Was this the liberation movement of Oliver Tambo, Walter
Sisulu and Nelson Mandela that came out of the darkness in 1994 to give us light?
Had we all forgotten the legacy of Madiba who proved that if you love your
enemy, you will ruin his reputation? Was there someone with a brain in ANC
Lutuli House who was listening to the instinct of survival and reconciliation?
Or would the struggle-tsotsis and political pirates take over the ship of state?

Our former High Commissioner in London, Comrade Cheryl Carolus, once said
to me when I was nervous about what the future would give us as we drifted
further away from the optimism of 1994:
"Tannie Evita, the ANC will always explore every cul-de-sac before we
find the freeway."

Behold the new Kgalema Motlante Boulevard! Taking up where the National
Party left off, the NEC of the ANC removed the latest obstacle. Thabo Mbeki was
recalled. I remember how we recalled John Vorster by kicking him upstairs
to keep him out of jail during the Information Scandal. Then in 1989, we
kicked President P.W. Botha into the Wilderness to keep us all out of jail. Then
in 1990 F.W. de Klerk kicked open a cell door and let out the terrorist who
turned out to be the hope for our future.

Imagine where we would have been today if Nelson Mandela had come out of
jail angry? How would you have felt? In jail for 27 years for what you believe
in? Away from your children? Your wife goes mad? Nelson Mandela could so
easily have come out of jail and spoken like Robert Mugabe. Nelson Mandela could
so easily have said: "To hell with democracy! Take the wealth and kill the
whites!" And yes, hundreds upon hundreds of whites could have been killed
and no one in the world or on CNN would have looked in our direction. But he
didn't say that. None of them said that. Nelson Mandela came out of 27 years in
jail with that beautiful smile and said: "Tannie Evita? Give me another koeksister!"

And so once again South Africa survives its own brand of coup d'etat.
Getting rid of what clogs the sewerage pipes of political progress. But we don't
do it with guns and blood, shock and awe. We get rid of our leader with
embrace, gratitude and compassion, smiling with flowers in one hand and a bottle
of red wine in the other, pushing them gently to the edge of the cliff and then
with a final Amandla/ Vrystaat, dropping them out of the spotlight of power,
usually without a legacy to stand on.

The nation is fine. President Kgalema Motlanthe is a man of few press
clippings. I have always been relieved to be able to call him by his third name
'Petrus'. That's the only headache for me. After months of twisting my tongue round
Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka, Nonzizwe Madlala-Routledge, Nkosazana
Dlamini-Zuma, I now have to work on Buyelwa Sonjica, Siyabonga Cwele, Nathi Mthethwao. .
.
(Hell, we were lucky with Tutu!) They say President Petrus is an
interim leader till after the election of 2009. Interim is only a word
you use in case you've made a wrong choice. If interim becomes impressive,
inspirational and innovative, interim will happily become incumbent. No
political party will want to fix something that is not broken. And as for
Jacob Zuma? He is always there to remind us that democracy gives every one a
chance to enjoy the shower of acclaim. And also the downpour of disenchantment.
Nelson Mandela proved that politicians first go jail and then into politics.
Hopefully Jacob Zuma won't want to do it the other way round.

But that's politics. We are the people. In a healthy democracy the people
must lead and the government can follow. Our focus must be on the future of
our children and our grandchildren. My three grandchildren are my
inspiration. They are not white. They are not black. They are a Barack Obama beige. And
they demand a future, because they believe democracy will make their dreams
come true. Winnie-Jeanne, who is 11 years old, said to me: "Gogo? Vukuzensele!"
I said: "Sies! Wat is dit?"
She said that is Xhosa for "Grannie, stand up and do something. Don't
just sit there moaning and complaining and making white noise like so many others.
If there is something about our politics that you don't like, stand up do
something! Vukuzinsele!"
And so I thought: Yes. I may be an Afrikaans Tannie. I might have
supported apartheid for all those years only because I didn't know it was so horrible.
Because no one told us. I knew nothing. Even though I am 73 years old
today (and am still being impersonated by a third-rate comedian who is ten years
younger than me but makes me look older and fatter) - in spite of all the things
that should make me sit quietly in a chair and read 'Huisgenoot' or watch
'Desperate Housewives' (in the last week we've been glued to 'Desperate Comrades'!) -
I will get involved. I will make sure democracy stays in full working
condition in spite of the struggle-tsotsis and political pirates who want to rape
our Constitution and then have a shower of celebration after the treasonous act.

The election of 2009 is not just between a ruling, mainly black party and
an opposition that is mainly white and coloured. It is not about colour. It
is not about power. It is not about cadres and comrades, or the opposition of
Zille, De Lille en hulle. The election is about the future of my little grandchild
Winnie-Jeanne Makoeloeli. Her dreams and her hopes. One child inspired,
one child educated, one child saved could save the whole world. Remember
this: in America there was a white woman who had a son. The father was a black man
who didn't stay long. This white woman worked and sacrificed so that her
small brown boy could be educated and believe that his dream could come true.
On 4 November 2008 that dream might become a reality when Barack Obama becomes
President of the USA. One child. One dream.