TOM EATON | For those with bigger fish to fry than SA politics, ignorance is bliss

On the weekend I found myself talking to a man who told me he thought the job of a political satirist must be very depressing. I found this strange, since the man I was speaking to is an engineer at Eskom.

Ordinarily, having an Eskom engineer express pity for me would prompt me to re-examine my life choices. But as we talked, I began to understand what he’d meant.

What he told me weren’t state secrets, but I didn’t ask him if I could repeat any of it, so I won’t. Besides, most of it was just me asking fairly basic questions, and if I tell you what they were I will be admitting that, when it comes to the basics of energy generation, my knowledge is probably on a par with your average ANC cabinet minister.

What he did reveal, however, was how little attention he pays to the politics that dominate our news cycle. Indeed, the overwhelming impression I got was of a figure out of science fiction, like the chief engineer of a starship, entirely focused on keeping the warp core from degloving the plasma goiters and giving almost no mind to distant thuds, whoops and yelps coming from outside the hull. Of course, should the whoopers and yelpers ever gnaw their way through the hull plates, he would rearrange his priorities, but for now, it was clear, he’s much more interested in reading gauges than op-eds.

This, I realised, was why he pitied me. Where he spends his days dealing with the immutable, impersonal laws of physics, those of us who engage with the necromancy of politics are trying to create meaning and certainty out of nasty whispers and smoke.

Perhaps, if one is familiar with the elemental forces of the universe, politicians seem very small and far away. Perhaps he just didn’t want to get into it. But either way, I was struck by what seemed like a natural immunity on his part to political intrigue; and it reminded me that even in the most hyper-politicised worlds, with angry press swarming all over them, there are still a great many people simply getting on with making sure that the needle hovers somewhere near the middle of the dial.

One day, when we’re all in a much better mood, I hope we have a chance to meet them and thank them. The trouble is, it’s hard to know who they are.

Part of this is because of cadre deployment, a system designed not to cut down tall poppies so much as to starve them of the will to grow tall in the first place, resulting in a mulchy expanse of beige floral matter in which the brightest and best keep themselves small and safe until they can escape.

Mostly, however, it’s probably just a product of that quirk of human nature, best described by Yeats, whereby “the best lack all convictions while the worst/Are full of passionate intensity”.

In South Africa, as in so many places, competence is silent while ineptness thunders.

In South Africa, as in so many places, competence is silent while ineptness thunders. Which is why it was entirely fitting that, even as I spoke to this neat, punctilious engineer whose name you’ll never see in the headlines, the press was telling me that three whole cabinet ministers are squabbling over which of them has nominal control over which aspect of the current energy omnishambles.

Of course, it was all framed as something of a scandal, as if the press had chiselled the story of the Eskom turf war out of a united and tight-lipped ANC. It was telling, however, that the reports were full of anonymous quotes from NEC members, suggesting that the supporters of each of the three ministers are only too happy for their grievances to be aired. I’m not suggesting the press was fed this story, but it’s worth remembering that when cabinet ministers aren’t doing their job — either because they’re being blocked by enemies or because they’re Fikile Mbalula — second prize is to get their names into the headlines, if only to confirm proof of life.

Consider, for example, Blade Nzimande’s almost comical desperation to be interviewed, revealed in a Sunday Times report on the ongoing spat between the minister of higher education and his deputy, Buti Manamela.

According to the report, Nzimande is feeling increasingly outshone by Manamela, telling staff in a recording that he was “very angry” that “in many instances” the press chose to cover Manamela rather than himself.

You can understand his panic. Nzimande knows that he is nothing more than a charlatan spirit medium whose only job it is to close his eyes, place his hands on the Ouija board, and solemnly spell out what the ghost of the SACP whispers to him ... “YES WE ARE HERE, COMRADES, STILL FIRMLY BEHIND YOU JUST LIKE LAST SATURDAY NIGHT. ALTHOUGH WE MIGHT CHANGE OUR MIND SO PLEASE KEEP PAYING COMRADE BLADE R2-MILLION PER YEAR TO HOST THESE THINGS BECAUSE HE IS SUPER HONEST AND IS TOTALLY DEFINITELY TALKING TO US FOR REALSIES ...”

There are two political public holidays in the next seven days, and the usual gallery of ideological bankrupts and bunkum artists will be out in force, demanding our attention to justify their pay cheques. And so here’s to all of those people we won’t see or hear, working quietly and well, keeping the needle where it needs to be, for as long as they can.