I celebrate with the rest of the world the action of our beloved country at the International Court of Justice (ICJ). They score full marks for calling the atrocity by its name. Genocide.
We must bear in mind that in the international family, our country resorts among the bottom feeders, the failures, the junk status in the world of economics and most assuredly is a woeful example of the dehumanisation of its people.
But none of this reduces the fearless speaking of truth to power. During my stint as principal of a high school in Manenberg at the height of the Struggle (1983 to 1993), I experienced the agony of this dire abuse inflicted on the Palestinians. Our children were shot at from armoured military vehicles. That experience alone made the plight of those beleaguered people so poignantly real to me.
Was the brilliant timing of this action a part of a larger agenda? We have had nothing but dubious success at renewing ourselves under the aegis of the ANC. They who could not bring closure to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, nor find the gumption to implement the Zondo Commission findings, and the various other agencies that were designed to name the crimes and take the necessary action that would heal our land.
There is no question that the presentation of the case was a masterclass in legality. The genius of using the basic atrocity of genocide was a class act of legal finesses and expertise, up there with the great defences of the best legal and academic minds of our time. The performance was legendary and deserves the highest accolades and acknowledgement from all of humankind. All of this accompanied by a disquieting silence from the big guns, the movers and shakers who choke us to death with punitive economic embargoes and refusal to assist our return to humanity.
Were these heroes home-grown? Were these eloquent and relentless purveyors of basic universal truths really from our own country? Where have they been these last 30 years? And so, with all the respect and compassion due to my suffering fellow-mortals, I sit and wonder at the timing of the thing.
It was as if the action was a choreographed dance performed on the sacred stage of morality, a commodity on which the ANC is singularly short.
I am conflicted by my humanity and my scepticism, that these threedecade-old misbegotten sell-outs could mount such a brilliantly orchestrated in-your-face challenge to the entire world to do something about human abuse and dehumanisation.
Bear in mind that during the same period, the president celebrated the so-called achievements of the ANC at a birthday celebration. All this without even mentioning his own dubious record as a spineless and directionless leader. Should he not have taken a leaf from the book of that glorious team that demonstrated valour and conviction? Could he not, for once in his miserable tenure, admit that he was shown up for what he is by a polished team of homeboys?
Shouldn’t he have used as a battlecry the famous metaphysical poet who called out: “I struck the board, and cried, No more”? Did he not recognise a golden, once-in-a-lifetime chance to make things right with the eloquence of the words uttered in The Hague ringing in his ears? Was he still listening to the ringing of the cash registers instead of the glorious chiming of the bells of freedom?
I do not wish to trivialise the atrocities suffered by the Palestinians; I wish them solace and peace and healing; nor will I join the hordes that will bay for reverse vengeance.
At the same time, I am going to ask the question: In this troubled time of frankness that called a crime by its name, did the ANC, minnows in the pond of power, suddenly discover its own groove by subtly orchestrating a masterclass in self-validation commonly called vote-gathering shamelessly on a stage of human tragedy?
* Alex Tabisher.
** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media.
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