A week ago, Oprah Winfrey blew her fairy dust into the ether, and minutes later Americans who idolise George Washington and have “Liberty Or Death” engraved on their assault rifles were expressing their admiration for the longevity of the British royal family, while radical young progressives were leaping to the defence of a young aristocrat who once dressed up as a Nazi at a fancy-dress party for the one percent of the one percent.
Yes, it’s been a wild week, but amid the noise I’ve also learnt something about the growing calls for monarchy to be abolished, namely, that #NotAllRoyals are targets.
If my South African Twitter feed is anything to go by, the British “Firm” is a hideous hangover from an old and thoroughly disgraced patriarchal world, whose alleged racism has been held up as proof of why monarchies must fall.
On the other hand, the death of King Goodwill Zwelithini has produced an outpouring of admiration for the Zulu royal family, and the news that only men would be allowed to attend the king’s funeral has been explained away as an important tradition.
All anyone needs to lead the ANC is a sack of money tied to a string. For some ministers all you need is a braai pack.
As for the Saudi royal family, which had journalist Jamal Khashoggi murdered, well, that seems to have passed over social media entirely. Even now I expect the British queen’s advisers are urging her to round up the UK’s noisiest journalists, have them killed and dismembered, and watch as Twitter instantly loses interest in her family.
Yes, whether you admire it or despise it, the old world has arrived in this present moment like a mouldy Elizabethan codpiece falling out of someone’s trousers at the Grammies. No matter how proudly we proclaim to be modern, it seems that we remain entirely fascinated by the sorts of deities and dynasties that ruled us 10,000 years ago.
Consider, for example, the determination of chief justice Mogoeng Mogoeng to prove his loyalty to the capricious God of the Old Testament.
Last year Mogoeng raised holy hell by insisting that criticising the modern state of Israel can invite a smiting from God, whose omniscience seems to work like a sort of murderous Google alert, scrolling through the geopolitical headlines in search of someone to zap. (Mogoeng didn’t go into detail but I’m imagining the third act of Raiders of the Lost Ark in which everyone is turned into rubbery toasted cheese.)
It was alarming stuff, not least for SA’s diplomats and human rights lawyers. If the chief justice has ruled that modern Israel is the same as the biblical one, it surely means we need to slap some sanctions on Italy pronto for washing its hands of the death of Christ. And if we’re going to align our moral code with the God who incinerated Sodom and Gomorrah, then we’ll all need to be a lot less judgy about mass murder. What’s that you say? Thousands of babies killed? Ah, but are we sure they weren’t Egyptian firstborns who had it coming?
On Sunday, Mogoeng dug his heels deeper into the ancient Middle Eastern dust, announcing that God had given him grounds to appeal the ruling of the Judicial Conduct Committee that he should retract the statement and apologise. And fair play to him.
After all, this is the same man who fretted that some Covid-19 vaccines were “of the devil”, implying he believes that at least one of the current vaccines was literally developed in hell, presumably in test tubes made out of the petrified phalluses of fornicators, bubbling over the eternally burning souls of those monstrous Egyptian babies. I mean, at least the guy has the courage of his fundamentalist convictions.
Speaking of convictions reminds me of the ANC, which doesn’t really go in for them, either the moral kind or the legal sort. And at the weekend a small faction of the ruling party was also plunging back into the ancient past, as Duduzane Zuma announced that he is ready to lead the ANC into a bright new era of dynastic rule.
Some pundits dismissed the idea out of hand, saying the Zuma junior doesn’t have what it takes to lead the ANC. This, of course, is nonsense: all anyone needs to lead the ANC is a sack of money tied to a string. For some ministers all you need is a braai pack.
No, I can easily see Duduzane running for office as a kind of political Zoolander, campaigning on a platform of being really, really, ridiculously good-looking, the pretty facade of SA’s own, rapidly forming Tea Party, where populists and xenophobes and anti-intellectuals meet at Nkandla over a cuppa to talk about tradition and patriotism and faith while they feel out how, exactly, the wrecking-ball will swing, and who, in the end, will be king.
After all, the more things change ...
Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.