TheCable

Last week’s ruling by the International Court of Justice (ICJ) on the historic case instituted by South Africa charging Israel with genocide in Gaza was a study in compromise and balance.

The three parties involved – South Africa, Israel and the Palestinians – went home with something but not quite the main thing they wanted. The court ordered the Jewish state to “take all measures” to prevent genocide in Gaza but stopped short of backing an immediate stop to the conflict. The focus on prevention effectively means that, despite global outrage over the 25,000 deaths and the ongoing devastation of Israel’s blitzkrieg, ICJ did not endorse South Africa’s accusation that Israel’s actions are genocidal. But again, the court had earlier rejected Israel’s request that the case be thrown out for lack of substance.

Even though South Africa and the Palestinians didn’t achieve their core objective – a verdict that Israel’s actions in Gaza breach international laws against genocide – the case is a moral victory against Israel. The many protests across the world demonstrate that Israel’s image as a valiant and admirable survivor of historic bigotry is being replaced by a perception of implacable oppression and callousness. Benjamin Netanyahu has responded with his trademark pugnacity, dismissing such claims and asserting that Israel’s actions are totally justifiable, given the viciousness of Hamas’ bloody invasion on October last year. But it’s clear that Israel will not live down the fallouts of its actions in Gaza for a long time.

South Africa’s intervention has thrust it into the global limelight and it has become a prominent player in the Israel-Palestine issue. Which begs the question: why isa country beset by mass poverty, violent crime andsome of the world’s worst unemployment figures takingon this central role in a conflict happening so far away, which has no direct impact on it?

The release of Nelson Mandela from prison in 1990 and the tour he subsequently embarked on might give some clues. The trip that ignited a wave of anger in the power centres of the western world because of three men on his itinerary: Yasser Arafat, head of the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO), Fidel Castro, the president of Cuba and Muammar Gaddafi, the leader of Libya. The three were pariahs in the west, strong allies of the Soviet Union, leaders who opposed and defied western ideological orthodoxy on some of the most important issues of the day. They were also very colourful, loquacious characters:

But if the top guns of the western world expected Mandela to apologize for his choice of friends and his post–prison itinerary, they were disappointed. Confronted by journalists in New York, the Madiba let loose.

“The enemies of the west are not my enemies and I am not prepared to be dictated to at all by anybody”, he thundered, “I am not going to take advice as to who my friends should be”. For good measure, he recalled that while Castro, Arafat and Gaddafi were tireless supporters of the apartheid regime at its height, Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher were hand in gloves with the Boers who treated South African blacks as sub–humans, undeserving of equality and dignity.

South Africa’s emergence as champions of the Palestinian cause can be appreciated within the context of the history which motivated Mandela to declare and defend his friendship and gratitude to Castro, Arafat and Gaddafi (one of Mandela’s grandsons is named Gaddafi). And the history is reinforced by ideology. The African National Congress, founded over a century ago as a liberation movement resorted to armed struggle during the darkest days of repression was declared a terrorist organization, banned by the apartheid regime and western nations. With many proud communists in its ranks, ANC was, in western eyes, firmly on the enemy side. In fact, it was only in 2008, 14 years after his release from Robben Island and nine years after his presidency that Mandela, the pioneer head of Umkhonto we Sizwe, ANC’s military wing, was removed from US terror watch lists.

Like other African nations, the post-independence story of South Africa has been largely a disappointment. The ANC is a shadow of its illustrious past. Corruption, incompetence and serial failures to improve the lives of the majority of South Africans now define its image. The precipitous crash in public electricity supply has enraged and turned many supporters against the party. The transformation of former president Jacob Zuma from respected revolutionary who spent 10 years in Robben Island to the face of official corruption captures thedecline and degradation of the ANC.

Which is why the idealistic courage of the ANC on the Palestine issue does not impress many South Africans across the political spectrum. Viewed against its awful domestic record, the Ramaphosa administration’s high-minded storming of the international arena on behalf of the Palestinians comes across as a distractive gimmick. The welfare of South African citizens cannot be less important than the current and historical agonies suffered by victims on the other side of the globe. ThePalestinians deserve sympathy but not more than the millions of South Africans who are victims of ANC misgovernance. Mandela would have approved his country’s support for the oppressed kinsmen of his friend, Arafat. But he also would have had some strong words for the underperforming younger comradesheroes he left in charge.

As you might have guessed, I am underwhelmed by South Africa’s heroics at the International Court of Justice. And there’s a personal reason for that. As aPanAfricanist, few things have filled me with sadness as much as the country’s culture of xenophobia, now as much part a part of its brand as Amapiano. The serial assaults of Africans from other nations, which has included brutal lynchings captured in social media videos, have become common over the past two decades. And it’s getting worse. Xenophobia is now such as popular cause in the country that Operation Dudula, a movement which dedicated to kicking foreigners (read black Africans) out by any means has become a strong political force. Its supporters roam the streets of Soweto harassing, beating, chasing out and even killing black Africans with no serious repercussions.

Just as distressing is the mealy-mouthed response of successive South African administrations to xenophobia. The Ramaphosa administration may be the worst in this regard. It has largely failed to take firm action against discrimination and arbitrary violence directed at black Africans. The leader of the Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) party, Julius Malema and some religious leaders who have condemned the bigotry and violence are among the exceptions. But they are very few. Even former president Thabo Mbeki spectacularly failed to rise to the occasion. His quoted comments after attacks two years ago were hugely disappointing: disingenuous and equivocal, a shameful effort to justify the horrors of xenophobia by citing the activities of foreign drug gangs.

South Africa’s problems are real, no doubt. But the ANC’s unofficial political survival policy of looking the other way while black Africans, including law abiding ones, are hunted, battered and maimed is cynical and immoral. Humanity, like charity, should begin at home. It should find expression within the neighborhood before sprinting to international courts to seek the justice for victims abroad that is so lacking at home.

Nwabuikwu is a member of THISDAY Editorial Board