South Africa

To my readers in the United States: Happy 4th of July!

To my readers in South Africa and anywhere else on the globe: Happy Friday!

In the last dozen years I believe I have spent more American Independence Day holidays outside of the United States than within it, with most of those spent here in South Africa. Being abroad usually provides an interesting perspective on one’s own country. I consider myself to be patriotic in the most important and perhaps least jingoistic sense in that I love my country but I see its flaws. I honestly have no idea what people mean when they say that the United States is the “best country in the world.” I guess I do not dispute the assertion at its essence, but I have no idea what “best” means, and why those who make the assertion do as much with such totality. The best at what? The best by what measurement? Is patriotism simply the willingness to rank arbitrarily one’s country by some sort of flow chart or Olympic medal chart? I will grant that the United States is the most powerful nation on earth militarily, politically, economically, and culturally. And as a result I think it can be argued, and I would, that the United States is the most important nation on earth. But nation-states not being reducable to one’s favorite sports team or top-five pop bands, I see neither utility nor meaning in the “best country in the world” mania that strikes my most jingoistic countrymen and women.

At the same time, it is always telling to see what others think of one’s own country. I have found the supposed anti-Americanism that is supposedly pervading the world to be vastky overstated. I am certain there are places where that sentiment is strong, such as in much of the Middle East and in certain quarters in Europe, say. But on the whole what I find, especially once I convince the listener that I am not an agent of my state and that I do not represent American policy (even if I may defend elements of it or the larger framework within which that policy operates) I will have engaging, if occasionally lively, conversations.

The fiasco in Iraq has not done the US any favors abroad, nor has the arrogance our current administration has put forth in presenting the American face to the world. But at the same time most people in South Africa and elsewhere understand that our administrations are temporal where the American state is not. And so what I hear most often are questions about the current campaign for the presidency, and whether Obama can win, and if McCain is a Bush clone.

It is my experience that the rest of the world is very much interested in the United States and its role in world affairs and looks at America with a combination of awe and fear and respect and admiration and concern and envy. This may be impossible to quantify, but it is a lot more interesting, and telling, than simple assertions that America is “hated” or loved.

[Crossposted at the FPA Africa Blog and at dcat.]

At the end of the day, travel is, for me, about people. Whether I am returning to Africa or to the UK, places I visit regularly, where I have lived and worked, or whether visiting someplace for the first time, such as when I went to China a couple of years back, the most important component to me is always the people I meet, and friends new and old. This is not to say that there are not other factors — work, for example, certainly requires me to travel quite regularly, and provides the justification for these trips. And like anyone who leaves home a lot, I like experiences as well, whether cultural, aesthetic, adventure, or what have you.

But the most important element of travel is people. I am staying in Sea Point, in Cape Town, with my good friend Doug, a black Zimbabwean who has lived in South Africa for more than a decade. We met in 1997 when we were at Rhodes University, in Grahamstown, and he is one of the people I always try to meet up with when I return. The time here will be too brief, but it is important, indeed crucial, that i spend it here. The conference in Stellenbosch provides another example. I walked into the conference venue knowing of a handful of the people there but actually knowing only one, a grad student at The University of Texas who I nonetheless always seem to see in South Africa. By the time I left Stellenbosch yesterday I has made a handful of new friends, some of whom I’ll maintain contact with professionally, a few of whom I will likely remain friends with over the years.

In some ways I think I’be grown almost sanguine about the opportunities travel affords me. I brought my camera on this trip, have been able to see some new places and revisit old ones, and have yet to snap a single shot, which probably seems like a waste, but in my eyes just remonds me of all of the time I have spent here and the ways in which I try to immerse myself.

In any case, Cape Town is raw this morning — rainy and damp, cold — and I have decided to devote a day to trying to catch up on work. I apologize for the fundamentally personal nature of this entry, which lacks much insight into South African politics or history or culture. But South Africa is, for me, more than simply a tableau for politics and work. It is a real flesh and blood place where I’ve spent a large proportion of my life and energies for nearly a dozen years. So today I’ll just work for a few more hours until Doug, my friend, gets home from work, and we’ll go out to eat and for a few drinks before tomorrow, when all too quickly, I’ll be leaving again.

[Crossposted at the FPA Africa Blog and dcat.]

Sawubona!

I’m writing from the 7th Street Guesthouse in Joberg’s Melville. The trip here was quite the trek, involving many layovers (Houston, Jackson, BWI, Dulles, Dakar) and more than one trip in an automobile, but I finally got into my B&B at about 8:30 South Africa time last night.

Not wanting to go to sleep and end up wide awake at about 4 in the morning, I went out and visited some old haunts. One of the striking aspects of Melville, and I think it tells us something about South Africa, for good and ill, is the subtle but definite ways in which it has changed since I first started coming to this little Joberg semi-suburb a decade or so ago. It is still fundamentally the same — a little oasis of affluence and upscale dining, drinking, and shopping options in a village that feels far from the Central Business District that is actually not far away at all. Many of the restaurants and other businesses that were here in the late 1990s are still thriving, though there has also been turnover and there are new places competing with the old.

But what is remarkable, and I think telling, is how much more, well, African, Melville has become. Not so long ago Melville was affluent and white. It was rare to see a black person not involved in labor or else on the streets. But today Melville represents a ployglot mixture of the New South Africa. There is no ideal racial climate anywhere in South Africa yet, but Melville just about qualifies inasmuch as the South Africa tourism board could present a pretty good face with videos and pictures from just about any restaurant in these few blocks.

And yet black, white, Indian, or coloured, the crowds that descend upon Melville do share one thing that separates them from the masses across the country: overwhelmingly they are wealthy. I do not want to quibble about what I mean by wealth. I am not saying that everyone I saw last night is rolling in money, driving BMW’s (though many do), and could retire today. But I am saying that they are distinct from the vast majority in this country in that they could afford the R250 dinner, followed by round after round of R25 drinks and R15 beers.

And in a sense this is good inasmuch as the increased black presence in Melville shows that there is a growing black middle (and upper) class making their way in the country. At the same time what it tells me is that South African divisions, which have always been both class and racial, with the latter more powerful than the former, have turned 180 degrees so that while race will continue to be a dividing line in the country, class draws even more permanent lines.

And I have no idea what the solution to this is. I am no class warrior, I believe in at least the fundemental tenets of a capitalist market economy, and I do not resent success. I was, after all, one of them last night, and one of the changes in my own life since 1997, when I first came, and lived, in South Africa is that my own travels have become decidedly more upscale, though I’m still not far from rich. At the same time, believing in the fundamental tenets of market capitalism is far from saying that ours is a system that is unreformable. And in South Africa there is still need for massive reform. The gross disparities of wealth that any society has are acute here and without alleviating poverty the country will continue to see not only the violent crime that South Africa is so well known for, but also the paroxysms of mass violence such as the xenophobic backlash against immigrants that have convulsed the country in recent weeks.

It is good to be back. I’ve missed South Africa in the time that I’ve been away. I’ll post more reflections here — I’ll probably be light on the usual links-and-analysis approach in favor of these more discursive reflections in the weeks to come.  

[Crossposted at the FPA Africa Blog.]  

At 4:00 am tomorrow (or five hours from now) I’ll get up and begin a winding journey that will land me in South Africa Thursday afternoon. I’ll be there for three weeks, will be traveling extensively for two conferences, some research, travel and holiday, and reportage. I may be out of touch for a bit, but will be updating the blog all along the way as internet access allows.

[Crossposted at the FPA Africa Blog.]

With 2010 and the World Cup, and thus South Africa’s global close-up, fast approaching, the country’s tourist industry will become increasingly prominent. Moeketsi Mosola, chief executive of South African Tourism, is worried that crime is South Africa’s Achilles’ heel and that all of the work going into preparations for 2010 will be for naught if crime is not brought under control. Stories such as those coming out of Alexandra, in which foreigners have been brutally attacked, will serve only to underscore Mosola’s concerns. The fact that the foreign victims are anything but tourists probably will be lost to those living abroad who are considering a trip to South Africa but worry about crime. But more important, the events in Alex reveal the tensions within South African society, where economic insecurity and xenophobia merge with catastrophic results. It is all well and good to worry about crime because of the effect it may have on tourists, but it is even more important to address crime because of the ongoing effects it has on South Africans, and to address the underlying causes that lead to crime to begin with.

I am leaving the country for a few days and almost surely will not have a chance to write here. I will return Tuesday (or possibly Monday night).

In the meantime, you can ponder the following: is South Africa looking at imminent and enduring inflation?

This weekend’s New York Times travel section featured Cape Town in it’s “36 Hours In . . .” feature. I’ve no idea why anyone traveling to Cape Town would spend so little time there.

One can quibble with some of writer Michael Wines’ choices. And his perplexing analogy at the beginning of the piece. (”Cape Town is South Africa’s Los Angeles to Johannesburg’s New York) is crazy on so many levels it boggles the imagination. (Joburg as New York? Cape Town as the vapid, self-indulgent landscape of LA? It makes me wonder which Wines understands less, the US or South Africa.)  Still, it is nice to see the United States’ “paper of record” feature Cape Town in this way and to be reminded of some of my own past trips to one of my favorite cities on earth. 

More Zimbabwe correspondence from my friend.

The following are some more of the observations I made
during my short holiday in Zimbabwe:-

The country still does not have a formal currency. It
is still printing and using bearer cheques as legal
tender. Besides, the bearer cheques were and continue
to be in short supply resulting in long and winding
queues at banks. People spend hours on end in order to
withdraw money. After standing in the queue for so
long sometimes they are told that you can withdraw a
maximum of Z$5million or are advised that ‘cash is
finished try another branch or else come back
tomorrow.” Like I said in my earlier mail $5million is
nothing especially when people would have wanted to
withdraw larger (for those who have some money in the
bank)sums to buy food, pay rent, school fees etc.

The consequence of this scenario is continued queues at
banks everyday (i.e. areas around banks now resemble
huge or mini-political rallies) and people who have
other means of earning money are not motivated by this
situation to deposit their money with any bank
especially if you no longer have any say over when and
how much you want to withdraw. So instead of money
circulating in the formal market large sums of money
are circulating in the informal (black) market.

The agrarian reform programme is also being seriously
hampered by shortages of essential inputs such as seed,
fertiliser and other chemicals. In a season where
above rainfall figures have been recorded its
virtually impossible to do successful farming without
essential inputs. The effect of this is that many
resource-poor small-scale as well as some large-scale
farmers’ pieces of land are lying idle. This renders
agrarian reform almost meaningless.

In the first place, land should have been allocated on
the basis of capacity to do farming not as a campaign
or political tool.

More of the often tragic news from Zim as it comes in.

A friend who works in South Africa but who is a Zimbabwe native visited his family over the Christmas holidays. Before he left I asked if he would send me a report upon his return so readers here can get a sense of things from the perspective of someone who loves his country but laments what has happened to it. For reasons that I hope are obvious, I am granting him anonymity.

Zimbabwe has become hell I tell you.

Nothing positive is coming out of that country. Its a
country riddled with serious food shortages. Its hard
to believe that life in this country is now
characterised by empty supermarket shelves, salaries
that are far far below the poverty line and ever
rising inflation which is making food, transport,
school fees, uniforms, rent etc unaffordable.
Inflationary trends are also fuelling serious
speculative tendencies in the market. In the capital
the situation is extremely untenable. It does look
like a capital anymore. One of my friends who lives in
Harare calls it a ghost city.

To quote some figures for you: When I arrived in
Harare for the festive period on 22 December a crate
of eggs cost Z$5million, bread $1,5million, beef
$9million per kg and chicken was $20million, but when
I left on 6 January a crate of eggs sold for
$12,5million, bread $2million, beef $18 per kg and
chicken was selling for almost $40million. I have a
friend who is a senior officer with the Parliament of
Zimbabwe. He is earning $27 million a month. These
rough statistics should give you a picture of how bad
things are. What it means for example is that a person
who earns $27million is earning one or no chicken per
month - what of other needs. I tell its tough.

Some people have simply decided to quit their jobs
because they cant afford transport to and from work.

My son’s fees were $12million per term up to December
2007. For the first term this year I will need to fork
out $400million - Can you imagine this. By the way
these a very huge figures considering people’s net
salaries. School facilities have deteriorated to
astounding levels. Below is an article from the
Standard Newspaper to give you evidence of how things
have degenerated.

“Zimbabwe: Schools Fall Apart As Education System
Crumbles”

A visitor might think it’s a farm garage. There is a
broken down tractor, old, rusty stoves. An ancient
deep freezer lies nearby. A closer look would compel
the visitor to think twice. There are piles and piles
of decrepit school furniture — chairs, desks and
drawers.

You don’t expect to find broken-down chairs at a farm
where productivity is in full swing. Forget the
guesswork. Welcome to Cranborne Boys High in Harare.
Years ago, the school was the pride of both
administrators and students.Now it’s a microcosm of
the decay and disaster that has befallen our
education.

One teacher said: “Cranborne is in an advanced state
of decay.” The classroom walls are dirty, the desks
and chairs broken, the floor tiles have peeled off.
Most worrying, all locks, bulbs and sockets in the
classrooms in the secondary block are missing –
stolen?

There was once a giant swimming pool, full of clean,
sparkling water. Now, it’s half-filled with dirty
water. Only frogs and mosquitoes find pleasure here.

The Standard has established it’s not just this former
group A school that is collapsing.

From classrooms, sporting facilities and grounds,
there is evidence most public schools in Harare are at
various stages of decay as the economy continues its
free fall. It’s the fate of most government
institutions today.

Raymond Majongwe, secretary general of the Progressive
Teachers’ Union of Zimbabwe (PTUZ), taught History and
Commerce at Cranborne High in 1997-98.

Last week, he said “It was a wonderful school, with
top-of-the-range facilities. Now the infrastructure is
run down.”

Majongwe said the problem was not confined to his
former school, but to public schools all over the
country.

“Our members all over the country tell us how schools
are collapsing. The level of vandalism is shocking.
It’s happening and nobody seems to care,” said
Majongwe.

“When the ministry was functioning properly you never
expected people who vandalised school property to get
away with it. Now, it’s different.”

Most headmasters said their “hearts bleed” as they
continue to preside over collapsing schools, once the
envy of the region.

They said the rot started around 2001 when President
Robert Mugabe’s government cut back the schools’
budgets after the farm invasions and a crisis spawned
by the violent 2000 elections.

In a populist move, the Minister of Education, Sports
and Culture, Aeneas Chigwedere, imposed such low fees
most schools could not raise enough money to operate
as in the past.

Primary schools still charge $1 500 a term for a
child, not enough to buy a marker. Schools are forced
to rely on levies.

Headmasters say the levies have been politicised by a
government determined to make education affordable to
people suffering under the worst economic crisis since
independence.

Parents now decide the fees they can afford. Their
proposals are forwarded to the ministry for approval.

“This is not different from a customer deciding the
price of something they want to buy,” said a member of
the Queensdale, Harare, SDA. “A few vociferous parents
with limited incomes can push for a $20 000 levy for a
term. Parents know it cannot buy anything, but might
be forced to approve it. That money is enough to buy
one exercise book.”

Until last week, Cranborne charged $30 000 — enough
to buy two loaves of bread. After a recent parents’
meeting, the ministry set the levy at $200 000, still
far short of what is needed.

A Harare headmaster said approving these unrealistic
levies was not easy. “It can be termed a Chigwedere
circus,” he said. “The ministry needs to know the
parents at the meetings, the minutes, their signatures
and how many voted for and against. Then he would
determine whether or not to approve it. The process
can even take over a month.”

The Standard was told ministerial approval could be
secured when the cost of whatever was needed had
quadrupled or when the commodities were no longer
available.

“In that case, how are you expected to run a school?”
asked a headmaster. “Our hands are tied. We are
bystanders as schools collapse.”

Rural schools are the worst affected, as most parents
have no incomes to fund the day-to-day expenses of
their schools.

“At our school, chalk is now rationed,” said a Gutu
teacher. “One teacher, one chalk, for days. When
supplies run out, we teachers have to improvise: write
with our fingers in the ground, the sad reality these
days.”

N.B. Over and above these problems are the perennial
electricity cuts/shortages and lack of constant supply
of water.

This could suffice for now. I write on other issues in
my next email.

Its a pity that financially I am not yet in a position
to take my family out of that country. I also fear for
them if we have deadly riots similar to the ones in
Kenya in the post-March elections period.

Just an FYI: An Economist correspondent from New Zealand has been posting a daily diary from South Africa this week. He introduces himself:

JUST to clear up any misconceptions: I am not, and have never been, The Economist’s South Africa correspondent. The extent to which I am not may soon become obvious: still, this point is best made at the outset, as someone else’s reputation is at stake here.

Neither am I just a tourist, though: I’m here to carry out research on behalf of The Economist’s guide to Johannesburg, which I have edited, from London, for a couple of years now. Past users may be relieved to know that I don’t actually write the guide—the aforementioned correspondent takes that role. But that with which you work, it is perhaps wise to know, and if nothing else, my employer’s august name tends to open doors that might otherwise stay shut.

There are a few useful insights, some views that an outsider probably finds insightful but are fairly banal, and some fairly jejune commentary, but the whole thing is worth a quick read as travelogue.