Rebellion against hopelessness

No other option for those in South African grassroots uprisings, says Pedro
Tabensky

AS I was sitting at ease at the Settlers Monument in Grahamstown, listening
to Tariq Ali – one of the great public intellectuals in the English speaking
world – eloquently denounce the horrific state of global politics and its
blind allegiance to capital, only a few blocks away local township residents
were protesting against the denigrating bucket system in front of the Makana
municipal buildings.

As is increasingly the case, the police illegally and forcefully intervened
on behalf of the municipality, attempting to stop disciplined protestors
from carrying buckets of human faeces to the doors of the municipality in
protest against the fact that in today’s South Africa they cannot even shit
with dignity.

In his talk, Tariq Ali emphasised the emancipatory role social movements
need to play in helping bring about social justice.

People around the globe are increasingly suspicious of the State and of the
system of electoral democracy that maintains the illusion of genuine
democracy. And they are organising themselves to stop State abuse.

Increasingly in South Africa grassroots movements are rising up to oppose
the seemingly endless greed of the State (and of those whose interests the
State represents). And it is worth mentioning that the police brutality
meted out against grassroots movements around the country is evidence that
the State is nervous; that it knows it is vulnerable to the wrath of the
wretched.

Recent events involving police brutality in Ficksburg, Rietfontein and
Zandspruit attest to the State’s nervousness about grassroots
democratically-motivated rebellions.

The reason for Tariq Ali’s visit was to receive an honorary doctorate as
part of Rhodes University’s graduation ceremony.

At it one could see the joyful hope in our students’ eyes. They had made it
through university and could look to the future with optimism. But this sort
of optimistic hope is not altogether free of discontent, for hope
presupposes a level of dissatisfaction with the present and some level of
anxiety about the future. A condition for hoping is uncertainty and the
anxiety that comes with it. This anxiety fuels the creative urges that
typify the human spirit. We are fundamentally creators of tomorrows and we
can only be these if we are not entirely happy with our present condition.
This is as true of graduates as it is of grassroots activists.

Without hope we could not live proper lives. Its total loss leads to
breakdown.

Indeed, the broken lives that are the result of hopelessness are richly
present among the poor today. Millions of South Africans live in conditions
in which it is extremely difficult to have faith in the future.

If one loses all hope in hopeless circumstances, suicide is a clear way out.
If one largely replaces faith in the future with wishful thinking, with
fantasy formations founded on anxiety-avoiding protective fictions, then one
is on the way to madness. And if one chooses to stop reflecting altogether
about one’s condition and comes to live for the sake of raw survival alone,
one’s life becomes almost indistinguishable from those of beasts.

These three alternatives to hope are strikingly present among the poor
today.

But there are those who are able to maintain the flame of hope to some
extent, despite their hopeless predicament. Some of these will do pretty
much whatever it takes, probably with the help of convenient fantasies or
rationalisations, to get out of the hole of desperation. These individuals
are particularly vulnerable to being co-opted by the State, and to do
whatever the State requires of them in the hope – well founded in South
Africa – that the State will recompense them for blind allegiance. These
individuals tend to deeply compromise their moral integrity for the sake of
personal upliftment.

Others will live in hope of quasi-divine deliverance, fuelled by President
Jacob Zuma’s deeply cynical campaign to portray himself and his party as
emissaries of God and all opposition, party political or otherwise, as spawn
of Satan.

Those who believe his ridiculous story are those who have been reduced to
servility by apartheid and who are now being manipulated cruelly by the
ruling party.

Those thousands accepting food parcels in exchange for votes fall within
this category.

Finally, there are those who are neither apathetic, meek nor morally
bankrupt. They are brave and honest enough, and hence healthy, to be able
properly to reflect on their predicament and realise that alone they can do
nothing. These sorts of individuals find the moral price of co-option is far
too high. They notice that the only way they can get out of their
predicament without compromising their souls is to join forces with others
who are, with good reason, no longer waiting for the State to deliver. These
are the typical leaders of social movements responsible for the rebellion of
the poor in our country, which started to gain momentum in 2004.

As these movements gain traction the levels of hopeful optimism among its
members are steadily rising. And this confidence is contagious, encouraging
others to join their ranks. A chain reaction has been set in motion – and
the State knows these forces are a threat.

Social rebellion is fuelled by a special kind of hope – a collective hope
for a better tomorrow that can only be brought about by the concerted action
of those who today are forced to shitt in buckets, forced to rot in shacks,
forced to live in permanent hunger and forced to remain ignorant and
unskilled.

Today’s rebellion of the poor is probably the only healthy option for those
living under conditions in which only the uniquely strong can hope. Those
joining the poor are fighting so that they too may have the joyful hope I
witnessed at the graduation ceremony at Rhodes University.