Reflections on local liberalism
South African liberals have no need to
react defensively to the recent attacks on them, even though they
appear to be part of a concerted campaign. They are heirs to a great
tradition that has eclipsed all its modern rivals.
It is a matter of empirical fact that all contemporary
democratic states incorporate the core values of liberalism (to greater
or lesser extents, depending on the quality of democracy in each case)
and market-driven economies with vigorous private sectors. There is no
exception to this proposition.
Moreover, a recent survey of economic freedom (reported in The
Economist of 22 June 2002) shows that "beyond making people
richer, economic freedoms also make them politically freer".
Today, liberalism is a broad church. For many modern liberals the
distinction between liberalism and social democracy is blurred. It is
quite wrong to suppose that liberalism is a 'laissez-faire' system and
that the 'trickle down' effect is its only instrument of reform. In
many states liberals have supported the interventionist state on a
number of fronts, ranging from reform of working conditions, health,
education and the curbing of monopolies. But it is now widely accepted
that excessive intervention or regulation can lead to costly
inefficiencies.
The flipside of the liberal belief in circumscribing state power is
the insistence on a strong civil society (the private sphere of
society). As much modern research shows, the strength of civil society
is one of the critical variables in shaping a democratic system.
Closely related to this proposition is the insistence that the
distinction between party and state be maintained. The failure to do so
has been one of the main causes of democracy's struggle to survive in
many parts of Africa. All too often liberation movements have blurred
the distinction, and even integrated state institutions into their own
(repressive) machinery. Zimbabwe is one of the most egregious
examples.
The consequence of this is that opposition parties are not seen merely
as opponents but as traitors and violators of the (non-existent)
'general will'. There are disturbing whiffs of similar thinking in
South Africa. They need to be exposed: Jacobin "democracy" is no
democracy at all.
Turning to South Africa, the first point to make is that liberals
were, and are, a very mixed bag: anyone who opposed racial
discrimination was deemed to be a 'liberal', even if his or her views
on a variety of other issues were deeply illiberal. Another preliminary
point is that it is totally ahistorical to visit the sins, shortcomings
and errors of the liberals of 100 years ago on contemporary liberals.
Barney Pityana's invoking of John X. Merriman's alleged failings is
simply ludicrous.
No white liberal, as far as I know, has ever attempted to claim a
major role for liberals in South Africa's transition. I, for instance,
always believed that the conflict was essentially one between Afrikaner
and African nationalisms. But this does not mean that the liberals
(white and black) were without significance or that they confined
themselves to hand-wringing from the sidelines. Many took seriously
Steve Biko's advice to work in and on the white community (a counsel
that Barney Pityana and his ideological kinsfolk seem to have
conveniently forgotten).
Liberals played two important roles: they kept the debate on an
alternative future alive, and they acted as watchdogs and as monitors
of the human damage caused by apartheid.
Regarding the first role: they played no small part in preventing the
white bloc from closing ranks in a defensive laager. White and black
never confronted each other as monolithic blocs. Had that been the case
civil war would have been inevitable, with horrendous bloodshed and a
fairly comprehensive razing of the country.
Liberals need make no apology for having worked through the apartheid
parliament. A difficult choice had to be made. Did you compromise your
principles and serve in a 'whites only' parliament, or did you opt out
and forego the possibility of presenting an alternative in the highest
forum of the land, to say nothing of lambasting the apartheid
government and asking awkward questions?
(As an aside, I might ask, if serving in apartheid institutions was
such a bad thing, how come the ANC has gratefully accepted into its
ranks a number of ex-MPs and homeland politicians, including one who is
a cabinet minister, and now makes a pact with the NNP?)
I doubt whether many ex-Robben Island prisoners would not express
gratitude to Helen Suzman for using her parliamentary position to gain
access to prisons, thereby causing a marked improvement in
conditions.
The watchdog function has been integral to the liberal cause for many
decades. It started in 1929 with the South African Institute of Race
Relations, which has continued this role ever since. The Liberal Party
was instrumental in the 1950s and 1960s in highlighting the plight of
victims of 'black spot' removals and repression in the Transkei. Peter
Brown, the national chairman of the Party, devoted a lifetime to
exposing injustice. He languished under a banning order for 10 years as
a result.
Likewise the Black Sash, consisting mainly of liberal women (a few
would reject this designation), played a major role in monitoring the
pass laws and related bureaucratic coils that entrapped many hapless
victims.
Monitoring, exposing and highlighting the iniquities of apartheid were
not the same as manning the barricades or engaging in physical
confrontations and mass action. I believe, nevertheless, that the
activities of these organizations, together with liberals in the
universities, churches and the press, contributed greatly to the
indictment of apartheid, which, in turn, contributed to the loss of
élan among key Nationalists that accelerated the erosion of
apartheid.
I am not claiming that the liberal critique rubbed off on the
Nationalists: I have no way of telling. But it seems to me highly
probable that the persistence of the critique, combined with an
obviously deteriorating security and economic situation, must have had
an impact that encouraged them to look for a way out of the corner into
which they had painted themselves.
One of the factors that impeded the development of a closer
relationship between liberals and the ANC was the liberals' strong
opposition to communism. This opposition never degenerated into
McCarthyism or 'red-baiting'. They opposed the banning of the Communist
Party and banning of the many individuals, communist and non-communist
alike, who were restricted in terms of the Suppression of Communism
Act.
I personally knew a number of dedicated communists, including Jack
Simons and Bram Fischer. I have no doubt that they were animated by
humane concerns, and joined the Communist Party at a time when it was
the only party that admitted members of all races. But I could never
understand how people who were obviously genuine in their opposition to
racial discrimination and authoritarian government in South Africa
could support, virtually uncritically, monstrous systems like those in
the USSR and its satellites. Even Joe Slovo's Has Socialism
Failed? was lamentably unsuccessful as an attempted salvage
operation.
One has to acknowledge the bravery and selflessness of individual
communists, but also to recognize that much of their influence in the
ANC derived from the Soviet bloc's support of the liberation movement.
For many years they were virtually the sole providers. The SACP's
doctrines also found receptive ears in the ANC. Even a non-communist
like Nelson Mandela could describe in 1976 the writings of Marx and
Engels as "a blueprint of the most advanced social order in world
history, that [has] led to an unprecedented reconstitution of society
and to the removal of all kinds of oppression for a third of
mankind".
Other issues of disagreement between liberals and the ANC are the
armed struggle and economic sanctions. In both cases liberal opposition
rested on plausible, even cogent, grounds.
I could understand the frustrations that led to the abandonment of
non-violence and the recourse to violence. Indeed, what was surprising
was that the change took so long to occur. But I was never convinced
that the armed struggle was a viable strategy: perhaps it had some
symbolic value as 'armed propaganda', but toppling the state or forcing
it to the negotiating table was, in my view, not going to happen as a
consequence.
My fear, on the other hand, was that violence would cause that state
to unleash its own counter-violence with unprecedented ferocity. One
had a foretaste of what could happen in 1976 and again in 1985-6.
Neither side would have 'won' the civil war that was the logical
consequence. A 'new' South Africa might have been born, but only out of
ashes and surrounded by mountains of corpses.
Regarding sanctions: I simply did not believe that they would work, in
the sense of forcing the government to negotiate. I readily concede
that the (actually quite limited) sanctions that were imposed slightly
raised the cost of enforcing apartheid.
All along my belief had been that the decisive factors in toppling
apartheid would be, firstly, sheer numbers, and, secondly, that the
most hopeful source of leverage for blacks was their labour power,
combined with their consumer power.
On the first point it is relevant to recall just how wrong were the
demographic projections by the apartheid planners in the 1950s and
1960s, and the absurd belief that somehow by 1978 the flow of Africans
from the rural to the urban areas would reverse itself. On the second
it is pertinent to recollect that, as the pool of white 'high-level
manpower' (to use the official term of the time) became exhausted, more
and more blacks had to be recruited, thereby tightening their grip on
the economy and augmenting their power to bargain for political
rights.
I also assumed, on the basis of comparative evidence, that a
transition would be easier in a growing economy. Sanctions, if applied
intensively, would strike at the roots of the main sources of leverage,
heighten an already serious problem of unemployment, and send the
economy into a nosedive. The first beneficiaries of such an eventuality
would be the ultra-right, whose numbers were growing dangerously in the
1980s, fuelled largely by a drop in white incomes, estimated to have
been one per cent per annum in real terms. (It is worth remarking that
with hindsight the real 'miracle' of the transition was how an
ultra-right counter-revolution was avoided, but that is another
story.)
The arguments presented above may be wrong, and certainly they will be
challenged with the perfect 20/20 vision of hindsight. My views were
formed in the 1980s when real democratization seemed a long way off. At
least, though, they were conclusions arrived at after careful thought;
and the last thing on my mind - and the minds of other liberals whose
bona fides have been questioned in the debate - was some hidden desire
to prop up apartheid, which has been imputed to liberals by some of
their cruder critics.
Pityana and his ilk appear to believe that (white) liberals have some
sinister, covert agenda for resisting change and maintaining the
privileges of apartheid even in the post-apartheid state. Let me
disabuse him: it is an insult to the many liberals I knew who spent
lifetimes saying that the perpetuation of an unequal society would
result in disaster. Their argument remains true: unless we become a
more equal society, conflict will intensify.
I do not chant mantras, and a mantra is exactly what 'transformation'
has become. As far as the ANC is concerned, its vision of
'transformation' is the only ideologically correct one. Question it,
criticize it, or suggest that counter-productive strategies are being
pursued, and you are denounced as a traitor, or, even worse, a
racist.
The label 'racist' is flung around with an abandon that is alarming
because it bodes ill for the future of critical thought. It is all too
reminiscent of those who cry 'anti-Semitism' when Israel's policies
towards the Palestinians are criticized.
I accept that the ANC is likely to be in power for a long time.
Single-party dominance need not subvert democracy, as the case of
Botswana shows, but it can be dangerous. Ruling parties can become
arrogant, intolerant and corrupt. When voter preferences tend to follow
racial lines, the temptation to play the race card increases. In South
Africa the danger is that as the memory of apartheid fades (even if its
legacy lasts a long time) white liberals become a convenient
alternative whipping boy that can be blamed for thwarting
transformation or other policy failures.
I have deliberately not mentioned the DA in my article: more than most
they can look after themselves. But I am bound to observe that in all
the welter of criticism hurled at them, I see only broad-gauged smears
and no debate on the substantive issues. Informed criticism, even if
sharp, could help to impede the dangerous syndrome of pathologies to
which single-party dominance is prone. The ANC should welcome criticism
for the sake of promoting a more democratic political culture. It might
even listen to DA proposals and build a broad-based consensus on
fundamental policy options.