PALI LEHOHLA | Madiba flew the flag for humility, but we grounded ourselves

South Africa and its downward spiral is evidenced in the demise of national carrier SAA.

In 1998 I had the privilege of presiding over the release of Census 1996 results. It was a proud moment for the then Central Statistical Service which had just transited into Stats South Africa under the leadership of Dr Mark Orkin. Nelson Mandela’s programme managers told us the then president was very busy and budgeted a maximum 30 minutes for the event, with his speech strictly 15. Entering the arena, Madiba was welcomed by Stats SA choristers and could not help but join them in song. This after much handshaking.

Orkin was overwhelmed, and in his speech said he was head of South Africa, while former minister of finance Trevor Manuel had Madiba’s report by mistake. The old man, in his opening remarks, cheerfully responded by saying he thought, as he prepared for his departure from high office, he would disappear in a wave of glory. However, he sadly noted he had been labelled a “has-been” as some claimed to be heads of state, while others had taken what belonged to him. He jested to a round of applause that he had long said he was going to retire but that as a former boxer he was going to fight back.

Madiba took the moment to discuss the success of South Africa’s transition from apartheid to democracy and the importance of what the census data revealed about the enormity of the task ahead. Most importantly, and relevant today, as his party, the ANC, heads to a national elective conference in December, were his remarks about how South Africa was viewed by the world. He said the country was held in high regard and ordinary civil servants received royal treatment wherever they went: “You just need to say I am South African and the doors of the world open.” However, he warned us not to take this for granted. Instead, we should respect it so as not to disappoint those who had entrusted the country with authority. He further spoke of his disappointment with those in the party who indulged in corruption, but took solace in them being investigated, prosecuted and incarcerated because his government was committed to zero tolerance regarding such malfeasance.

I had another important moment on October 22 2011. I visited Madiba in Qunu, Eastern Cape, where I was going to count him in Census 2011. On his table were papers awash with coverage of Muammar Gaddafi’s assassination two days earlier. Madiba was troubled, especially given his role in normalising relations after the Lockerbie flight bombing that killed 270 people.

I felt envious seeing the Ethiopian Airways (ET) fleet dominating the tarmac and airport screens, its destinations on the continent and globally just minutes apart. The experience was traumatic. The question is: what did the Ethiopians get right that South Africa got so horribly wrong.

Symbolism is an externalisation of aspiration and reality, and Madiba’s speech represented this in deed and oration. Political parties, governments, corporates and individuals rely on symbolism to advance a common identity, often referred to as a brand. In this way they promote their cause and course.

Established in 1934, the SAA brand dominated the skies and was an enduring force that connected Africa to the world, competing predominantly with American and European airlines. This continued to be so post Apartheid. But serious signs of decline kept rearing their heads and hoarded headlines, without stopping flights. The onset of Covid-19, however, marked the ultimate and sudden halt of SAA and its symbolism.

Several years ago I flew home from New York. When we landed at Johannesburg’s OR Tambo International Airport one of the cabin crew became hysterical on seeing new branding decorating the tails of the carrier’s fleet on the concourse. The beginnings of great things had started. SAA had penetrated the continent and would fly you to central, east and west Africa, as well as the world. Die Stem had been replaced with the national flag. 

The lifting of Covid-19 restrictions has allowed us to start hopping from city to city, country to country again. I was in Ethiopia’s capital Addis Ababa two weeks ago. I felt envious seeing the Ethiopian Airways (ET) fleet dominating the tarmac and airport screens, its destinations on the continent and globally just minutes apart. The experience was traumatic. The question is: what did the Ethiopians get right that South Africa got so horribly wrong? The former was no match for SAA a mere 20 years ago, but its steady growth was palpable, South Africa’s decline equally so. The greatest display of its dominance was at the height of Covid-19 when it was the only continental carrier to decorate not only African skies but those of the globe. SAA, on the other hand, had embarked on a lame-duck journey to oblivion.

In this regard, South African airports are a sorry sight. The SAA check-in desk is in some invisible corner, as are its boarding areas. At OR Tambo the D gates for local travel were, in the past, almost exclusively for SAA. Now they host Safair and CemAir, which have stepped in with admirable force. To get to SAA you have to descend to the ground floor to the E gates. For international travel SAA used the A20 gates, competing with British Airways, Emirates, Air France, Lufthansa and Qatar airlines. The national carrier is conspicuous in its absence on its own terrain, which is now playground for international carriers.

South Africa’s symbolism, with its dying role in world affairs, is fast diminishing. Madiba said South Africans are feted like royalty globally. He warned us not to take this for granted or it would vanish with our ignorant arrogance.

Dr Pali Lehohla is the director of the Economic Modelling Academy, a professor of practice at the University of Johannesburg, a research associate at Oxford University, a board member of Institute for Economic Justice at Johannesburg’s University of the Witwatersrand and a distinguished alumni of the University of Ghana. He is the former statistician-general of South Africa.