Ubuntu or Smoke and Mirrors in South Africa?
Modern South Africa is a nation built on the lofty ideal of Ubuntu, a value system championing a communal ethos over individualism. It promotes the ideals of shared humanity, compassion and kindness, restorative justice and collective responsibility.
At its core, Ubuntu celebrates the well-being of the group over the selfish interests of individuals.
Yet, when you look around you at the country we live in today, Ubuntu is conspicuous by its absence. In fact, it increasingly feels like we’re the unwilling cast in a tragically ironic stage play that mirrors the tale of the Wizard of Oz.
To much of the world, and, perhaps, to some of our more optimistic citizens, our country projects a dazzling, powerful image – a thriving democracy, rich with resources and governed by people committed to improving the lives of the millions of people who used their hard-won votes to place them in this position of trust.
Sadly, the reality could not be more different.
The forensic investigation community, along with many whistleblowers and other brave souls, is slowly pulling back the Wizard’s flimsy curtain, revealing the tragic truth:
The booming voice that extolls the virtues of good governance, announces new laws aimed at ending corruption, and issues endless instructions to paint over the ever-widening cracks, is nothing more than smoke and mirrors; a heart-breaking illusion controlled by a few ruthless individuals hiding behind a wall of levers.
It’s a shameful legacy to those who dedicated (and in many cases, lost) their lives fighting for justice, freedom, and a peaceful society where everyone has the opportunity to work hard and prosper.
This is not Ubuntu. In fact, it makes a mockery of the term.
Our country is not championing humanity towards others. It is not concerned about the interconnectedness of people, or values such as compassion, kindness and community. And it certainly doesn’t seem to care about the prosperity and safety of its people.
All those things form the definition and bedrock of the spirit of Ubuntu, but South Africa is not embracing a single one.
Here’s what’s happening instead:
Whenever the international spotlight falls on our country, our leaders channel their inner chameleon, demonstrating a startling talent for creating lavish theatrical facades for the benefit of overseas guests. I know I’m not the only one who is constantly amazed by this capacity for rapid, superficial transformation whenever the need arises.
They are masters at what I’ve come to call Tarmac Diplomacy – drop a high-profile visit by a political dignitary or celebrity into the equation and, miraculously, broken roads are re-tarred, potholes are repaired, and infrastructure is cosmetically enhanced.
This is not good governance – it’s theatrical risk management.
The danger of this persistent facade is that it breeds cynicism. It erodes trust, not just in individual leaders, but in the very institution of democracy. When people see the powerful continually act with impunity, when justice is frequently delayed or denied, the fabric of society begins to fray.
The spirit of Ubuntu, once a rallying cry, risks becoming a hollow echo, an embarrassing historical footnote.
Next month, South Africa hosts the G20 summit, and the levels of window dressing taking place ahead of this incredibly important event are mind-blowing.
Desperate to create the illusion of a functional, well-maintained state, the focus seems very much on appearance, rather than sustained improvements. It’s all being done with a singular purpose: to secure external confidence and investment while temporarily insulating our internal system from external scrutiny.
The irony of the theme South Africa chose for its year as the holder of the G20 presidency would be funny if it weren’t so utterly tragic:
Solidarity, Equality, Sustainability.
How many people in the corridors of power understand the true meaning of those words?
Contrary to the inspirational notion of Ubuntu, many of our leaders’ conduct is devoid of any sense of interconnectedness and compassion.
Time after time, we see resources designated for public service not only being mismanaged but systematically and ruthlessly looted by those in positions of power and trust.
It’s cold-blooded greed on a scale that fundamentally compromises the state’s ability to function.
The recent legal proceedings concerning Hangwani Morgan Maumela – including the seizure of his lavish properties and assets – are a clear and tangible case in point.
His wealth was allegedly built on the diversion of millions of Rands from Tembisa Hospital – the apparent den of iniquity and corruption that assassinated whistleblower Babita Deokaran tried so bravely to expose.
Every Rand stolen is not only evident in lost profits, but in human suffering. The alleged conduct of these megalomaniacs reveals a cold-hearted disregard for public health and, indeed, human life. Clearly, self-enrichment is the ultimate goal.
Ubuntu? We shouldn’t even be mentioning the word in the same breath as the actions of these heartless criminals.
I always try to be positive and optimistic, even in the face of relentless and ruthless wrongdoing, but I’m finding it hard today.
I greatly fear that, along with our ethical framework, we have lost the plot.
There is a pattern of disengagement – and disinvestment – from the public good in favour of private gain.
However, as despondent as I feel, I know that as forensic investigators, we have to keep trying. We have an important role to play in trying to right the many wrongs so prevalent in South Africa today. We must go beyond merely investigating incidents to establishing a verifiable truth that exposes the discrepancy between the government’s Ubuntu narrative and the daily reality of the people they’re supposed to serve.
Together with the brave, whistle-blowing citizens of South Africa, we have a responsibility to clearly and empirically articulate the public cost of corruption, and tear down this carefully constructed façade of compliance.
Systemic failure, broken controls, and an institutional culture that operates in stark contrast to its own policies have replaced the dream we all had back in 1994.
For many now, all that’s left is a nightmare.
But the time for moral outrage alone is over; the time for action and stringent accountability is now. Only then can we hope to restore the true, unvarnished spirit of Ubuntu to our country.