CHRISTMAS had come and gone, New Year had come and gone, so peace and quiet were finally returning to the local pub and grill. The jolly fellowship of convivial conversationalists could resume their regular considerations of the world’s follies in conditions where speech was, again, audible to the human ear.
Our village is popular with holidaymakers, you understand, and of course we welcome them and are even, sometimes, infected by their good spirits. It’s just that the pub parliament has to go into annual recess, for reasons of practicality.
I was thus peacefully enjoying the company of the Big White Dog in my usual corner, with no more intellectual strain than a pondering of the magical skills of the master brewer, when the learned ladies and gentlemen started arriving in their usual orderly fashion – until Luke the Dude’s disorderly entrance with shouts of “Yes! Yes! Yes! What do you have to say for yourselves?”
Monsieur Jean-Jay did have something to say: “You, Mon Ami, are a rude man. Why do you not introduce us to your ah, shall I say, delightful guest?”
“I was coming to that, you wanton Gaul,” accused Luke, “please meet my friend Lily, who has relocated to our happy village from Pretoria to teach at our local school. I thought she could contribute some sense to our conspiracies and chatter.”
Miss Lily was warmly welcomed by all; in fact, so enthusiastically by some that it was not long before we were again approaching the sound barrier. This I addressed in the time-honoured manner that works for Speakers of parliaments over the world – a loud and firm shout of “Order!”
With the usual result. Everybody did, on my tab.
The Prof, with a conspiratorial nod to me, was with the programme. “As the holiday spirit is evidently still with us,” he said tactfully, “let’s see if we can have a full conversation without mentioning the SAA, Eskom or any of the other state-owned corporations bankrupted by the ANC?”
“I do not agree,” protested Big Ben, causing Miss Lily’s eyes to widen as he stood up to a fraction below the ceiling fan. “It is not fair to blame the ANC when things go wrong,” Ben sallied forth. “What about all the things going right? Here we are, having a good time – why not thank the government for that?”
“Because,” considered Stevie the Poet in a spirit of free legal advice, “when everything keeps going right, we thank Toyota.”
“Useless!” conceded Jon the Joker. “Give me one example of an ANC success. Just one.”
Big Ben was ready, “Okay, I’ll give you one. Our courts. We can all rely on our courts to uphold the Constitution and the law. And thanks to the ANC, we can respect the courts as representing and protecting all South Africans!”
“Hmmm,” considered Stevie the poet, “I am sorry you brought that up.”
“Okay my learned friend,” Bob the Book nodded at Stevie, “pray tell us why.”
Big Ben sat down reluctantly, looking suspicious.
“Because it is not as clear-cut as it should be,” said Stevie. “The Rechtsstaat – the rule of law – is a cornerstone of democracy. That includes a court system with independent, highly professional and impartial judges who have the trust of the people. It stands to reason that every citizen is equal before the law.”
“Okay, boyo,” helped Colin the Golfer. “Enough of acting the professor. Some of us are golfers here.”
Stevie apologised. “Sorry, but I have to make the point that the courts are very, very important. It used to be that judges of the High Court were appointed only from the ranks of the senior advocates and then not even those who had become an SC recently. Now people are appointed who have never been even junior advocates.
“Sadly, the results can be seen, even in the highest court, where the Chief Justice behaves like no chief justice before him. Not content to stay above the fray, where the Constitution places him, he ventures into the kind of activism that seeks political outcomes. An example is his 2019 Nelson Mandela Lecture.
“This disease in our courts has been diagnosed by Prof Koos Malan of the University of Pretoria as transformatism. This is an -ism justifying results that would not be found in normal, fair transformation where every citizen is equal before the law.
“Prof Malan, in an article for Rapport Weekliks, argues that when doubt festers about the impartiality of the Constitutional Court, public trust in constitutional rights is eroded. On the case deciding the controversy over street names in Pretoria, he concludes that the language and culture-related rights in the Constitution were flatly ignored by Chief Justice Mogoeng and the majority judges.
“On the case about language rights at Free State University, he says the minority judgment serves as a clear exposé of the prejudice displayed by Mogoeng and the judges agreeing with him.
“We can go on, for instance to the Coligny case, where two white farm workers were convicted of murder on the basis of, at best, the dubious evidence of a single witness, contradicted by the facts.”
“What has happened to that one?” asked Irene the Queen.
“It is, eventually, heading for the Appeal Court,” said Stevie, “since Advocate Barry Roux SC took over their case. And after 13 months in prison, they have finally been granted bail. In the meantime, the judge has been promoted.”
“As a farmer this makes me mad,” grumbled Jean-Jay.
“Indeed,” conceded The Prof. “But unpleasant as it is, it is our duty to be informed citizens. So thank you, Counsellor, for sharing your knowledge.
“It is also true that Benjamin has a point. Not everything is bad news. So who can cheer us up by sharing some happy facts? Maybe our guest? Miss Lily?”
Miss Lily could.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, “about this really surprising article I read in the Bronberger, an excellent local newspaper on the outskirts of Pretoria. It was in their Christmas edition and while it’s too late for presents now, it’s not too late to have a heart. The story was about the box ladies – two of them initially, in Wellington, mushrooming to thousands all over the country.
“The drought has been broken here in the south of the Western Cape, but it is still driving people, especially farmers and all the people dependent on them, to desperation. The grazing on the land is long gone and animals have been dying in front of their eyes. Formerly wealthy farmers have nothing left and the banks are not in the business of helping them now.”
“That really is terrible,” said Colin the Golfer, for once not in a mood to take the Mickey. Or in his case, the Michael. “So where is the good news?”
“Order! No, no, don’t order!” interjected Luke the Dude, “no interjections during an honourable member’s maiden speech!”
“Quite correct,” I confirmed. “Please proceed, my dear.”
“Thank you, but with all due respect,” protested Miss Lily in fem-lib albeit not Jane Fonda mode, “I am not your dear.”
“Quite correct, Madam,” I agreed, “you have the floor.”
“Thank you,” she said, “The good news is that, starting small, this movement of women, most of them strangers but all of them in solidarity with their sisters suffering hardship in our country, started packing boxes with the little items that are left off a woman’s shopping list when times get hard – to be delivered before Christmas.
“At first shoe boxes, then wine boxes and larger, later lorry-loads of boxes delivered to the drought-ravaged areas of South Africa. Most of them anonymous. As one farmer’s wife responded, ‘I could not believe it: my box contained exactly the items I used to get to spoil myself …’
“Thank you,” smiled Miss Lily, “that is my story.”
What could we say? We salute our women and then, maybe this: Let’s pray for rain.
