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17 September 2011 18:11

Presidents get the gloves off

While FW de Klerk exercises free speech at a surprising venue, Denis Beckett listens.

JOHANNESBURG - Long cars at the Nelson Mandela Foundation, with their engines running while two presidents and one non-president debated inside. I guess the petrol bill (and emissions tally) counted less than keeping the air-con on.

The non-pres was Njabulo Ndebele, disadvantaged, he said, by having not had a country to run. That was a joke, glad to say. Was it correct? Jose Manuel Barroso had nearly-run Portugal as a brief prime minister (the only ex-Maoist to crack that job). As president of the European Commission, he is almost president of Europe, not of a mere country, but is actually more like, say, Head of Nato, another distinguished personage whose name is not very well known.

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27 May 2011 17:26

When Vavi retires…

Denis Beckett cocks an irreverent ear to some new twists in the old race issue.

On the way to Sci-Bono, the radio is race, race and race. UN economist Jeffrey Sachs is under fire for raising the thought of a three-child policy in Africa. A lengthy string of African persons come on to express extreme distaste for non-African persons telling Africa what to do.

I sukkel over what to make of this. An outside agency tells you to change a practice that has been unquestioned forever? This practice has given you a richly extended family that makes you as an African feel strong and fortunate compared to cultures by whom in other respects you feel daunted? Of course you’re cross.

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21 May 2011 09:57

The Galvanizille factor

Denis Beckett ponders how the DA turned its fortunes.

Election week has to be a fine time to re-enter the lists. Fine time also to red-facedly apologise to Alec and Moneywebbers for truancy. [Getting to picture Alec as a headmaster hearing the bad boy promise “I won’t do it again, sir.”]

Election weekis a fine day generally. It could hailstorm and it’d be a fine day. All smiles, happy chats in the queue, happy howzits with officials and heart-warmingly unbusy policepersons. Supermarket afterwards, even, people have a commonality like Christmas or the day after the tsunami, you have something to say to each other, including strangers, you’re licensed.

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28 March 2011 14:11

Muammar de Klerk?

The media told Denis Beckett that Libyans hate their tyrant, but Google seems far from sure of that.

In London in 1989 South Africa’s conflict was big TV news. One channel had a pulsating flashpoint logo with the day’s death count. Every night showed flashing flames with a place name and a race scorecard. “Stilfontein - 1 White, 3 Blacks”; “Lusikisiki - 4 Blacks”.

How primitive this was. As adjectives these terms were crass (and inaccurate, but “pink” and “brown” would sound hopelessly undramatic). As nouns they were barbaric, and dumb; even making a necklaced black councillor comes across as a point for “the whites”.

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06 March 2011 05:55

Tough justice in Old Jo'burg

Denis Beckett is not in favour of people-clubbing, a la seal-clubbing.

Dawn is rising over Wanderers Street and my OWJ lobe is in nostalgia mode. Nostalgia is the birthright of we Old White Joburgers; we’re world captains. Other cities have changed, I do not begrudge, but none like ours. Especially round Wanderers Street.

On Rapallo Corner I get déjà vu. 1960s, half-term dinner on pass-out from boarding house. Artificial grapes over artificial beams gave a Riviera flavour. The violinist did his best with Elvis and Lonesome Tonight, spoiling a boy on a special occasion. Afterwards we ambled quiet streets, mom in a hat, dad and I whoops-a-daisying my sister. Nostalgifest.

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