Even without the bourgeoisie elevated Michael Jackson platform Julius Malema clearly nurses a fetish for theatrics. Why else would he go all out even in remote enclaves like Colesberg to put on the sort of showboating that brings an entire town to a virtual standstill? Maybe that’s because even though he’s mostly labelled as a jabbering flip-flopper amongst the intelligentsia, his one overlooked quality is that, on the ground, the man is way bigger than many would openly admit. And also because the cognoscenti place more premium on personalities than the reality at the grassroots: people are hungry, restless and the ruling party has its hands full but apparently with no new ideas out of the mire.
From the early morning on the eve of his address in Ward 3, the streets, as one local quipped ‘were a sea of red,’ and by the time the local EFF motorcade – so long it snaked almost the entirety of the main road – arrived, it was a hive of blaring hooters, supporters leaning out of car windows and onlookers not sure what had hit the sleepy town.
Whether this was an underhanded rent-a-crowd, the jury is still out, but what is clear is that as far as show of force goes, the EFF hoedown dwarfed anything the town has seen this year and – I’d put my head on the block – perhaps many years before. A child knocking a football around probably summed it up best; ‘hay ezinye ngabantwana’ – all the other parties are child’s play in comparison.
Last he came to town, Generations was a hit soap opera and Malema was the bulky, brutish ANC Youth League president. The ruling party was sauntering about as a mainstay force around here, bagging election after election without really having to try too hard. That the ANC would always emerge victorious seemed an unchallenged matter-of-fact. (Outside of a general loyalty insofar as the party was synonymous with liberation, they had also embedded onto the local psyche the idea that material or economic progress was a right reserved for party supporters).
Back then, there were a few alternatives to the ANC, certainly none that spoke the language of ‘economic freedom in our lifetime’ or qualifications as a prerequisite to employment. Although known to sometimes go rogue, Malema’s power was stifled under the mother body, making him come across as little more than a rabble rouser with spoilt-brat tendencies of taking broadsides at his elders. On that last visit Malema was in the company of snazzy-dressed soap stars who’d clearly come out to woo the youth voter. The community hall was packed to the rafters with hundreds more milling or breaking into song around the vicinity.
Much has transpired in the intervening years. There have been accusations of corruption and nepotism dogging the Umsobomvu municipality, affirmed by a report that is now the subject of a court review and hostile spatters at public events. The ruling ANC has been splintered, leading to the formation of the Colesberg Residents Association (URA), a hasty ruffle-together that nonetheless occupies four seats on the local council. Its members have seemingly thrown their lot with the EFF and with at least two of them making that party’s provincial and national lists have dented the common perception of the ANC being the only vehicle towards ascending to political success. And, yes, they are apparently vigorously intent on upstaging the ruling party every chance they get. This then would explain the pomp and pageantry characterising Juju’s arrival.
After an electrifying performance by Lady Du, a hip and happening amapiano artist (look, that may not seem like much. But here, in these quiet, neglected spaces, these things count volumes) and her dancers, a grinning Malema came out to resounding cheers and applause.
True to form and obviously having been briefed on the contentious issues plaguing the town, Malema immediately lunged for the jugular. ‘We are here to demand that the rules of Umsobomvu to be hired by the municipality and when they hire, they must not use surnames and membership of the ANC because when you’re ANC they don’t want to give you a job. They want to sleep with you first before they give you a job. So when we take the Northern Cape, we’re going to make sure that that nonsense stops.’
He promised that should his party take over the province, the first order of business would be to fix the roads because here one finds ‘potholes the size of [Jacob] Zuma’s swimming pool.’ (This would be the first in a string of jibes that had the audience in stitches). He said that in white areas there are no gravel roads or potholes so he would ensure that the township has roads built for purpose, complete with running water in every home. This he followed up with a lecture on how crucial industries are closing down and how the country’s minerals are being shipped abroad to be processed, something which he vowed to stop. On top of that he said he’d introduce a minimum wage for farm workers whom he thinks are being exploited and denied the basic right to dignity because ‘the ANC has not given our people flushing toilets in the past 30 years.’
‘There was one billion …to build houses here in Colesberg,’ he said, ‘but till today there’s no roads [unclear] because they stole the money. Zamani Saul and his people have stolen the money that was meant for houses.’ And, he asked, why would you be so proud that when you build houses, you build houses that stand incomplete. ‘You pass those houses every day. You’re a mayor, you’re a councillor, why are you not ashamed that you’ve got incomplete houses?’ Under the EFF, he said, these houses would be completed within a year because the money is there. He promised he would build proper housing (three bedrooms, a dining room, kitchen, bathroom and a passage) for the people not the cheap RDP style ones that hardly allow for privacy or dignity. Here he added some suggestive references about the lacking privacy that had the audience in shrieks of laughter.
He also had some grand vision about toll roads and speed trains and how he would invite countries like China to build said trains on condition that in thirty years these would be handed over to the state. The controversial nuclear deal? Our man is a fan of the idea, believing that it was only thwarted because it would’ve been the Russians who benefited from the windfall rather than western Europe. His geopolitics are not necessarily centred around East or West, rather are informed by the sort of friends who seek only what’s best for the people of South Africa, he suggested.
He believes in free education. When a child turns three, they should start at an early childhood development centre, with one or two such facilities operating in every ward. Free high school education plus uniform, shoes and a meal. Where will the money come from? Well, he says, the money will come when you stop buying prisoners uniform, ‘because you buy prisoners uniform but you don’t buy children uniform.’ And prisoners have their three daily squares, flushing toilets and have no experience of loadshedding courtesy of government. ‘If you can buy a generator for a prison why can’t you buy it for every township where you know they’re affected by loadshedding?’ As for the state study fund, NSFAS, he said it should be stopped as it serves as little more than a slush fund for the corrupt, specifically mentioning the SA Communist Party.
18.6 million South Africans, he said live in extreme poverty. This while 18.8 are recipients of social welfare which are aimed ‘to defeat poverty.’ ‘Extreme poverty,’ he said, ‘is when a person can’t spend more than R41 per day…then how much budget does Cyril Ramaphosa’s dogs spend per day? Because Ramaphosa’s dogs can’t survive with R41 per day.’ How do you ‘fight inequality and defeat poverty’: we need to increase the old age grant to R4000 or upwards per month, the child grant up to R1000.
He wants ‘clinics to open 24/7’ because government health facilities ‘have become mortuaries.’ Then he took a swipe at the boys in blue, an entire contingent of them which had come out. He went on to say that police were in cahoots with criminals. ‘The people who are supposed to apply the law are the ones who are violating the law.’ Then comes sermonial Malema: ‘we will police ourselves. We are not scared of anyone. We are not scared of the ANC. We are not scared of the DA…let police fight criminals, let police fight drugs and nnyaope. Anyone who takes out a gun and point[s] it at a policeman that person should’ve said goodbye because that is the end of him.’ He called for better police visibility and that when old people go out to vote, to forget Nelson Mandela. ‘This person who is the ANC president now, nothing of him looks like Mandela. If you doubt that maybe he’s a Mandela in another form, just go look at his nose; you will see that Mandela never had this nose.’
‘Ramaphosa is a criminal. Mandela has never stole money and hide it in mattresses and sofas.’ Elaborating on the Phala-Phala scandal, he said that prosecutors were ready to prosecute Ramaphosa but that the National Prosecuting Authority’s Shamila Batohi made the docket disappear. So, he pleaded, people should vote and send him back to the Union Buildings where he will search for that docket and stop corruption as he claims to have done with his ‘pay back the money’ mantra at former president Jacob Zuma.
In the aftermath of Malema’s visit, the discourse has been around whether the man has made inroads in Colesberg or if the people were just there for free t-shirts, an amapiano concert or to see the guy they usually see on TV in the flesh. On the day, the ANC had arranged a soccer tournament and several funerals (usually major crowd-drawers) were underway. So the question was whether the crowd turnout at Malema established the EFF as a party to be taken seriously or just a passing fad. The responses are as oppositional as the numbers of parties that straddle the political spectrum.
From the lay observer, one thing is certain: the EFF has jolted the status quo, rattling those on the gravy train and leaving everyone else wondering what the new order will mean or look like. Where it used to be thought of as political and economic suicide when an individual was seen to be openly supporting anybody other than the ruling party, the numbers of people proudly wearing their red t-shirts before and days after the event is powerful symbolism on how things are a-changing.
More than anything else that is the one indicator that in their disillusionment or desperation people are no longer cowering to threats of economic exclusion. ‘When you ain’t got nothing / You got nothing to lose’ Bob Dylan would probably remind us at this point. The first of these flare-ups of ‘courage’ emerged towards the last local government elections where people were openly campaigning for the start-up, URA. At Malema’s function one caught glimpses of once diehard ANC bigwigs in red t-shirts, seemingly unperturbed. This is seismic. Moreover, in a political landscape where ‘race’ rather than politics per se is a powerful determinant of how people cast their votes, Malema has been handed a fortuitous advantage.
His speech, replete with searing humour, emotively touched on the local issues that residents have been harping on for decades. There are the incomplete Ou Boks houses that we’ve written about, less than desirable public health care and hopeless joblessness. Days after the event, I eavesdropped on a conversation where an elderly woman was lamenting how she’d had to spend the festive season without her chronic medication, thanks, she said, to the clinic. Real, persistent gripes that the powers that be evidently cannot address. Potentially vote-attracting issues in a location where a bulk of residents live off social grants and petty jobs. More importantly, as mentioned earlier, at least one local EFF – Simphiwe Mrwarwaza -has made it onto the party’s provincial list and at one point shared the stage with Malema. Imagine the message that sends to wannabe careerists: one of our own alongside the CIC Juju, imagine the possibilities that lie ahead?
One suspects to see similar scenes with parties like the Patriotic Alliance in Lowryville. It would seem that the local political scene is not so advanced or evolved as to think of affiliation outside of racial confines. Of course come 29 May, this may all turn out as nothing but an ill-informed analysis. History, as it has done with more qualified polls (a matter for a different article) may soon prove me wrong. For now, though, this is my story and I’m sticking to it.