Finance, University of the Western Cape
20 March 2007
Distinguished Chairperson
Farida Omar and family
My dear comrades and friends
I want to express my sincerest appreciation to both the Community Law Centre
and the Omar family for honouring me with the privilege to present this lecture
in memory of so great an individual.
Tomorrow we will celebrate Human Rights Day � the fact of this holiday is an
enormous tribute to the life's work of Comrade Dullah, whose commitment to the
cause of human rights truly set him apart. It is also worth reminding ourselves
that just a fortnight ago Ghana celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of her
freedom. This fact too was an important part of Comrade Dullah's being since he
lived all of his adult life as a committed African and pan-Africanist.
Let me confess that the Community Law Centre and I have you here under false
pretences � the topic I am expected to speak on is "Budgeting for Human
Rights." I am aware, though, that all of you are familiar with the Budget �
whether through the eyes of Human Rights activists, economists or just ordinary
citizens whose lives are touched by the manner in which government exercises
choices in respect of the Budget. You will also know that in the context of our
Constitution and the Bill of Rights, the direction of the choices we make are
in line with the 'rising floor' principle as set out in the Bill of Rights. And
you will know that the Constitutional Court has on occasion been obliged to
reflect on these matters and, with one exception, raised concerns but declared
that the court is not the fiscal authority. So let me save the topic 'Budgeting
for Human Rights' for some other time.
On the eve of this anniversary of Human Rights Day, I want to share with you
a few observations on human rights in the context of "continuity and change."
In particular, we must question whether the very notions of "continuity" and
"change" do not exist in contradiction to each other. Before 1994, the
definitions appeared to be rather simple � "they" were the oppressive regime
and "we" the human rights activists- the battle was contested on every possible
terrain, from the barricades, to the pulpits, the courts, the factory floor,
the sports field, through the armed struggle and on every available
international platform, and we won. "We" were distinguished by the fact that we
held the moral high ground and "they" were just simply bad. Definitions were
easy and the entire world quite uncomplicated.
Then we negotiated an advantageous outcome, crafted a wonderful
Constitution, won an election and became the government. Definitions, roles and
tasks have been exceedingly complex since. So, how do we manage continuity and
change together? What part of what we are and do is alterable, as against those
elements that must remain constant?
Similar questions have arisen in the context of the African National
Congress. In preparation for the National General Council held in Port
Elizabeth in July 2000, We were challenged in a paper entitled "ANC � People's
Movement and Agent for Change" to consider the issues of modernising , an
organisation then in its eighty-eighth year.
Examine the challenge of modernisation of the ANC both as a concept and in
its practical application, in a manner that sustains and deepens the
revolutionary character of the movement.
1. The questions thrown up by our presence in government should also feature
in this: mastery of work in legislatures as part of instruments of
transformation, oversight of government implementation of policies, mass
mobilisation and accountability. In this context the issue of the ANC's role in
"delivery" also arises.
2. On the part of progressive mass formations and the motive forces of the
National Democratic Revolution, challenges that need to be addressed include:
how to use the state creatively to pursue sectoral and general interests;
networking among revolutionaries at all levels; lobbying; relations with
progressive business people and the attendant problem of corruption that may
arise.
Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of this abstract is that it could not
have been contemplated in an earlier period, whether in the ANC of Pixley ka
Seme; of the 1949 Programme of Action; of the Morogoro or Kabwe Conferences of
1969 and 1985 respectively, or perhaps even in the Reconstruction and
Development Programme (RDP) document produced shortly ahead of the 1994
elections. The ANC, so strong in its own traditions that have developed over
the past ninety five years has to pause to consider the issues of modernisation
� the questions of oversight of itself and the risks that own activists are
confronted with are part of that. If the ANC becomes dependent only on its
traditions, it will die and turn into stone. It has to continuously ask its
members tough questions.
If these are the challenges of the present to the movement, what then of the
challenges of rights, and let me add, our obligations? How do these fit in when
there is no easy fallback to an "us" and "them"? Should any part of the rights
and obligations be altered or modernised?
There is an exceedingly important and humbling challenge that we have to
respond to in recognising that very little of what we do is permanent. History
will demonstrate that the economic growth and the concomitant opportunities it
generates are unlikely to be a constant feature. Similarly, the electorate has
been kind to the organisation that brought it freedom by re-electing us at each
general election with a larger majority � whilst this fact may be unprecedented
in world history, it is not a right to which we lay historical claim, but it
has to be earned and re-earned. Well, what of the rights that we describe as
realising on a rising floor � the expectation that the floor will rise
continuously in all dimensions is unrealistic. So, which parts can we, in good
conscience, modernise? How do we manage continuity and change in the context of
rights? And, who determines this?
We are not discussing rights in the abstract, of course.
What do we say to the father of a young Annastacia Wiese murdered in her
mother's house in Mitchells Plain � where the man charged with the crime, and
the denial of the rights of the child, happens to be not the state, but rather
a close friend of the family?
How do we respond to the residents of Happy Valley near Kuils River who
demand housing but receive starter kits for informal dwellings from the
municipality which explains that it cannot keep abreast of the demand for
housing. Indeed, how do we respond in the context of the Grootboom judgment
that dealt precisely with the issue of rights to emergency housing?
What exactly do we say to the widows and orphans whose right to dignity and
a sustainable livelihood has been taken away from them by the rapacious greed
at Fidentia Holdings that has seen their trust monies consumed?
Or how do we respond to young people who demand the dignity that accompanies
the right to work, when the economy may not generate sufficient jobs for the
particular skills which they may have, or not have � as the case may be?
And, how do we deal with the rights of the millions of refugees who arrive
in South Africa from all over the world, to share in the gains of democracy?
And how do we evaluate these rights against those of South Africans who do not
yet enjoy these rights in equal measure?
What parts of our rights are adaptable? What parts are enforceable? Is there
a way of reinstating those rights taken by individuals, especially those who
enjoyed the trust of victims? To what extent should we rely only on the courts?
What values afford us a compass by which to steer?
The issue of human rights is an essential part of defining the foundation on
which this constitutional state is based. Our Constitution, and especially our
Bill of Rights, has become the subject of detailed research and represent a
model used by human rights activists around the world. We have so much to be
proud of. We have many judges who are the product of that same struggle for
human rights and whose judgments are a manifestation of this fact. We should
never take any part of the formality of our rights for granted.
But, against the backdrop of this impressive architecture for human rights,
we should pause to consider what remains undone, and, more importantly, how we
can bring life and strength to this unique feature of our democracy.
Professor Kader Asmal, writing on this topic, in a party political context,
in 2005 wrote:
"The ANC remains committed to its legacy, a lasting legacy to be celebrated,
but also an enduring trust to be honoured in the present. By definition, a
tradition is handed down from the past. But a tradition, if it is a living
tradition, is not only handed down from the past but also taken up in the
present."
This is a response to the challenge of continuity and change.
As I said earlier, before 1994 the definitions were relatively easy and the
task at hand not as complex as the present responsibilities. Now, we have to
build a single, caring nation, one in which the values that drove us so
fervently over many decades are required to be measurable in evidence. As Kader
Asmal said, "a living tradition is not only handed down from the past but also
taken up in the present."
The challenge is therefore to build a human rights culture, to give life to
the formal structures. Culture is complex � it is the cumulative deposit of
knowledge, experience, beliefs, values, attitudes, meanings, hierarchies,
religion, and material objects acquired by people in the course of generations
through striving. By definition, culture cannot be static. Culture is dependent
on values, values that sometimes are even unconscious to those who hold
them.
But, culture cannot be merely of the state. Sure, it helps if the state
leans in the same direction, then the development of norms and mores does not
have to be an antagonistic contest between the state and the people. But we
need to remind ourselves that the responsibility to govern merely creates a
range of possibilities to intercede in support of a system of values � those
contained in our Constitution and Bill of Rights and committed to the
electorate through election manifestos. There is nothing pre-ordained about the
outcomes of a period in government. I am a Member of Parliament � so making
laws is an integral part of what I do, but I want to share an observation; that
you cannot legislate values, just as you cannot legislate culture.
The culture of human rights goes far beyond the ability to recite the Bill
of Rights, memorise the United Nations (UN) Charter or be conversant with human
rights case law. It is about communicating the values that underpin the
culture, bringing out some of the tenets that may even be unconscious to those
who hold them. It is also about working with others to develop and hone the
shared objectives from shared values. None of this can be done without drawing
attention to that which deviates from the underpinning values.
President Mbeki did this forcefully in the Fourth Annual Nelson Mandela
Lecture in July last year. He said:
"Thus everyday and during every waking hour of our time beyond sleep, the
demons embedded in our society, that stalk us at every minute, seem always to
beckon each one of us towards a realisable dream and nightmare. With every
passing second, they advise, with rhythmic and hypnotic regularity � get rich!
get rich! get rich!"
And thus has it come about that many of us accept that our common natural
instinct to escape from poverty is but the other side of the same coin on whose
reverse side are written the words at all costs get rich!
In these circumstances personal wealth and the public communication of the
message that we are people of wealth, becomes at the same time the means by
which we communicate the message that we are worthy citizens of our community,
the very exemplars of what defines the product of a liberated South Africa.
This is a hard-hitting description of a tendency in which personal
aspirations atomise into an anti-social individualism, with a focus on wealth
accumulation and conspicuous consumption. Needless to say, the "attendant
problems of corruption" referred to earlier, will be a force to contend with.
When this happens, it erodes the culture, and in our context it is the evolving
culture of human rights that is perhaps most at risk. We need to consistently
remind ourselves that nothing but bricks and mortar is likely to be permanent.
But life is about far more than bricks and mortar. And the success of this
early period of democracy will be measured by the durability of the system of
values we are able to inculcate.
So, it is to values we must look to rebuild the culture of human rights.
There are few sources that address these as poignantly as the writings of that
great African intellectual Amilcar Cabral. It is fitting that we remind
ourselves this evening that Comrade Dullah so frequently drew on Cabral for
inspiration and explanation. In his collection entitled 'Unity and Struggle' he
articulates his views so clearly. Let me share four of these with you � reality
and realism; truth; criticism and conflicts.
On the subject of reality and realism he writes, "Do not confuse the reality
you live in with the ideas in your head." Essentially he argues that for a
struggle to be prosecuted successfully, the leadership must appreciate the
everyday existence of the people, and start from this point to advance the
struggle with the people, drawing from the reality of their lives. He does not
argue that activists be held back, but rather that activists must have "both
feet planted firmly on the ground." These words speak so directly to the
challenge of building a rights culture � all across our country, but especially
here in the Western Cape. Human rights are not acquired in the abstract, they
are built on the capacity to transform the lived reality.
On the subject of truth, Cabral has been paraphrased into a slogan which I
am sure that we can all repeat. Claim no easy victories, tell no lies. In the
full text he writes, "We must put an end to lying, we must not be able to
deceive anyone about the difficulties of struggle, about the mistakes we make,
the defeats we may suffer, and we cannot believe that victory is easy. Nor can
we believe evasions like, "it seems that" or "I thought that." This is one of
the great defects of some comrades. Ours is a struggle against forgetting and
for a culture of human rights. It is in this context that his words are so
incredibly resonant.
In respect of criticism, Cabral advances the watchword, "Develop the spirit
of criticism between militants and responsible workers. Give everyone at every
level the opportunity to criticise, to give his opinion about the work and the
behaviour or the action of others. Accept criticism, wherever it comes from.
Always remember that criticism is not to speak ill, nor to engage in intrigues.
Criticism is and should be the act of expressing an open candid opinion in
front of those concerned." Who should lead, who should measure the honesty and
who is sufficiently confident to blast the intrigues masquerading as
criticism?
And on unity, he forthrightly says, "there are no real conflicts between the
peoples of Africa. There are only conflicts between their elites." Just pause
and consider these words.
These messages are not new. They speak directly to leaders and activists and
to their relationships � with each other, within the organisation, with the
people, and perhaps most importantly with their values.
These words speak to the contradiction between continuity and change. And
they strongly address the humility required to rekindle the culture of human
rights.
As long ago as 2000, these issues were raised in that important document
entitled, "ANC � People's Movement and an Agent for Change." We are reminded in
that document that
"Our programme is not only about the transformation of material conditions, but
also about engendering new social values. Failure to build a New Person, among
revolutionaries themselves, and in a more diffuse manner, in broader society,
will result in a critical mass of the vanguard movement being swallowed up in
the vortex of the arrogance of power and the attendant social distance and
corruption, and ultimately, themselves being transformed by the very system
they seek to change."
Between that point and the present, much water has flowed under the bridge.
These words, are not being heard often enough, or have too often been swept
aside? The struggle for a culture of human rights - which is a struggle that
looks beyond the material conditions to what, in fact, should define our sense
of nationhood � is non negotiable. But, by way of self-criticism, we should
concede that it appears not to be sufficiently "taken up in the present." The
struggle for human rights must be prosecuted with as much re vigour and
determination as the struggle to overthrow the apartheid regime. The success of
this venture depends on building the New Person. It is a struggle about values.
It is a struggle against forgetting where we come from. It is a struggle that
can best be advanced through unity. And, it is continuous.
Before I step off the podium, I have a confession to make. I am clearly
inspired by Amilcar Cabral � when I used the copy of the book, I became aware
of a terrible wrong I have committed. For on the first page is an inscription
that reads: "To Dullah, from Ramesh, May 1980." Farida, I apologise for having
kept this book for so long � let me return it to you. Hopefully others will
also draw inspiration from it.
Thank you.
Issued by: National Treasury
20 March 2007
