I'm heading back to the U.S. after ten days in South Africa, where I launched the biography of Rhoda Kadalie. Everything went well and I had a great time. I also learned a lot about the current political debates there -- including the odd attempt to rewrite history, casting Thabo Mbeki's presidency as a Golden Age.
You can understand why that story might be persuasive to South Africans. In the Mbeki era, the economy was growing; construction was booming; there was only a little bit of "load shedding." The Zuma era, with its wholesale looting and "state capture," seems so much worse; there is almost a kind of Mbeki nostalgia.
The truth is that the seeds of South Africa's present crisis were planted in the Mbeki era. What Rhoda, Tony Leon, Helen Zille, and a few others understood was Mbeki's intolerance to opposition and his racial thinking -- both of which were demonstrated in the HIV/Aids and Zimbabwe crises -- were destructive.
Mbeki also presided over the era of BEE, when South Africa diverted scarce capital away from productive investment and toward racial redistribution to members of the ruling party. The model for corruption was set: when Zuma led a group of disgruntled outsiders to power, they simply exploited the pattern.
I think the revisionism is partly being engineered by Mbeki and his loyalists, but is also embraced by those who are desperate to see a way out of the country's present troubles. The opposition does not look likely to take over in 2024, even though the ruling party's fortunes are falling. Hence the wishful thinking.
But Mbeki's presidency remains the moment when the rot set in. Rhoda knew that, and wrote about it. She was often a lone voice of opposition, but she was right. That's another reason the book is relevant, and timely: South Africans need to have an honest conversation about how they got to where they are.
This week’s portion launches the great story of Abraham, who is told to leave everything of his life behind — except his immediate family — and to leave for “the Land that I shall show you.”
There’s something interesting in the fact that Abraham is told to leave his father’s house, as if breaking away from his father’s life — but his father, in fact, began the journey, moving from Ur to Haran (in last week’s portion). His father set a positive example — why should Abraham leave him?
Some obvious answers suggest themselves — adulthood, needing to make one’s own choices, his father not going far enough, etc.
But I think there is another answer. Abraham (known for the moment as Abram) needs to establish his own household. This is not just about making one’s own choice, but really about choosing one’s own starting point. It’s starting over.
Sometimes we start over in fundamental ways even if much that surrounds us remains the same. Sometimes the journey we have to ...
The story of Noah is familiar; the details, less so.
Noah is often seen as an ambivalent figure. He was righteous -- but only for his generation. What was his deficiency?
One answer suggests itself: knowing that the world was about to be flooded, he built an Ark for the animals and for his own family -- but did not try to save anyone else or to convince them to repent and change their ways (the prophet Jonah, later, would share that reluctance).
Abraham, later, would set himself apart by arguing with God -- with the Lord Himself! -- against the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, saying that they should be saved if there were enough righteous people to be found (there were not).
Still, Noah was good enough -- and sometimes, that really is sufficient to save the world. We don't need heroes every time -- just ordinary decency.
Hi all -- as I noted last month, I'm going to be closing down my Locals page, at least for tips and subscriptions -- I may keep the page up and the posts as well, but I'm no longer going to be accepting any kind of payment.
Look for cancelation in the very near future. Thank you for your support!
