Mpho Buntse

I have always imagined myself presiding over Parliament. As our democracy developed from strength to strength, I observed how individuals such as Frene Ginwala, Max Sisulu, Gwen Mahlangu-Nkabinde and Nomandiya Mfeketho were able to maintain order in the National Assembly. This shaped my views on how an ideal Parliament ought to work.
However, Baleka Mbethe’s return to Parliament as speaker of the National Assembly has shown me nothing but disappointment. I cannot help but question her neutrality as speaker. Does the way Parliament has turned out have something to do with her obvious bias as its presiding officer?
Our Parliament remains an active voice of democracy. This voice should seek to echo our interests at all times. It was founded on the premise of our stellar Constitution – a document that came about as a result of bloodshed and sacrifice. As a young South African man, I say this without fear or prejudice. Like many young South Africans, I regard myself a beneficiary of our hard-won democracy.

I have been privileged in that in the past few weeks, I have met and engaged with some of the most amazing South Africans – men who walked on apartheid soil and endured more than their fair share of torture. Each of these men has taught me an important lesson – that I am privileged. These individuals all became activists in our South African struggle and all have made me reflect on the state of our national government and the future of South Africa.
First it was Dr Thami Mazwai. This activist-turned-entrepreneur taught me to be mindful of the people I serve, because different characters come from different backgrounds. The moral of the story is that our government must understand our needs and represent all of us. The job of elected government representatives is to advance the public mandate. It is no secret that we exist in a society where inequality is the order of the day. As such, we rely on our elected officials to champion our plight. Karl Marx once said: “Society does not consist of individuals, but expresses the sum of interrelations, the relations within which these individuals stand.” We shouldn’t focus on individual needs, but rather serve the collective.

I met veteran journalist and former press ombudsman Joe Thloloe, who emphasised that “every action we do must reflect our values”. Our members of Parliament must at all times conduct themselves in a manner that reflects high levels of respect – not only to other members of the House, but to their constituencies as well. The recently embarrassing disregard of Parliament’s decorum is an insult to every South African who entrusted their political party with a mandate.
I also interacted with the former Minister of Defence Charles Nqakula, who told me that during the armed struggle they did not just use guns, but did so while chanting the words: “The people shall govern!” – a clause in the Freedom Charter. This was a reminder that their objective was to usher in a new age of South African freedom. I am grateful for their sacrifices.

The lamentable state of our Parliament makes me wonder whether our voices are really being echoed in the house. Does it still champion our interests? Does it remain the historical institution meant to address governance at a national level? It’s all too disturbingly reminiscent of George Orwell’s Animal Farm. Remember how Napoleon emerged as an utterly corrupt opportunist, Snowball’s strategic approach to service delivery and Boxer’s battle tactics and ultimate downfall? Our Parliament is positively Orwellian.

President Jacob Zuma delivered his state of the nation address last week. Although it touched on the most crucial issues facing us, such as the energy crisis and lack of service delivery, what many South Africans are concerned about is the respect and tolerance that seems completely absent in the fifth Parliament.

The country’s economy is under siege; we are at serious risk of losing the little foreign investment that still saw SA as an attractive option. Following the suspension of the Economic Freedom Fighters MPs last year, Deputy President Cyril Ramaphosa pointed out that the late, great Nelson Mandela would have been embarrassed at the disorder in the House. However much I’d like to cling to that boyhood dream of the perfect Parliament, it’s hard to disagree; the fathers of our democracy are turning in their graves as we speak.