Faced with a recent spate of high-profile incidents of violence, Nelson Mandelaâs wife, Graça Machel last week broke the usual silence of the former first couple and said that South Africa was âan angry nation.â
Speaking at a memorial service for a Mozambican taxi driver who died after police dragged him through the streets tied to the back of a van, Ms. Machel warned that her adopted country was âon the precipice of something very dangerous with the potential of not being able to stop the fall.â
The ruling African National Congress immediately tried to downplay Ms. Machelâs warning. ANC spokesman Keith Khoza said âit doesnât help to point fingers.â And President Jacob Zuma, perhaps attempting to sooth tempers, tried to remind people that South Africa was not âan inherently violent place to liv in.â
There is a kind of endless reckoning about the fate of South Africa. Many white South Africans have always believed South Africa was just that - inherently violent. Indeed, some of them participated in that violence in the most degrading and ordinary ways during the long years of apartheid - and when apartheid ended, many of them left, often to places like Australia or comfortable suburbs in America.
But many stayed behind too, or even returned, believing - sometimes forcing themselves to believe, over and over again - that the core of their country was peaceful. After all, they point out, had it not been, it would have descended into civil war immediately following the fall of apartheid, or even more recently. Crime levels would have continued to climb. South Africans would have retreated further and further into their ethnic and racial enclaves.
But those things have not happened, for the most part. On the criminal side of things, the statistics paint an optimistic picture compared to years past. Crime levels have been dropping fairly steadily since the early 2000âs, and more dramatically still since peak levels around 1995. Murders have declined by roughly 25 percent since 2002. Socially, though South Africa is still a divided country, it is less divided than it once was, I believe, by vast margins. Most South Africans I know have not retreated further into their ethnic enclaves but have instead gone out into the world (both at home and abroad) seeking contact with others.
And yet, many worried observers continue to ask: is South Africa more dangerous than ever Perhaps, more importantly, is the danger now of an existential variety, as opposed to mere criminal opportunism The comments at the end of this recent Huffington Post piece about para-Olympian Oscar Pistoriusâs shooting his girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp, written by a public relations consultant are indicative of the kind of hand-wringing taking place.
It didnât help when police shot and killed striking miners in August in what amounted to a massacre. Several of the miners were shot in the back trying to flee. Then there was the recent gang rape and murder of 17-year-old Anene Booysen, the revelations about a death squad operating in Durban and the case of a 29-year-old man accused of raping a 2-year old infant.
Sadly, there is a palpable sense among many people that the country is on a dangerous trajectory toward a violent confrontation - with the past, with itself, and with its own varied and complex sense of identity and values. Itâs a topic thatâs close to my heart. I liv! ed there ! for several years. Many of my closest friends still do. I married a South African. My children will one day share a connection with that country that I hope will be unbreakable.
But friends I know who once thought they would never leave have started to question the wisdom of that choice. In a recent letter, a friend wrote:
SA is not in too great shape right now. Many if not most of the ministers in Cabinet also regularly seem mired in scandal, with corruption and misappropriation of public funds reaching epidemic proportions. We should and could be doing a lot better than we are.
And later, âMaybe this is part of the growing pains of a country that is still angry, coping with a huge legacy, increasingly frustrated, and struggling to deal with its challenges. Iâm not trying to be complacent myself, and while I agree that there is an alarming sense of âdrift,â some things just donât match the doom and gloom I read. It seems as if we are shutting politics ot of our minds and just going on with our lives.â
Part of the chasm that has emerged in understanding South Africa is that experiences can vary so widely, and so intensely. Some people who have lived there for years have never had any problems. Others come for short visits, only to be attacked, robbed or raped.
An American friend who has lived in South Africa for 15 years recently wrote, âI have only ever known a few people that have been stabbed or shot, and those all took place in [America].â
And despite that somewhat reassuring fact, he has changed his plans to buy a house in South Africa until - if ever - the political and economic situation improves.
But heâs a foreigner. The problem for South Africans is that they have to find a way to move ahead with each other. And that is what Graça Machel and others are worried about.
âThe level of anger and aggression i! s rising,! â she said, âThis is an expression of deeper trouble from the past that has not been addressed. We have to be more cautious about how we deal with a society that is bleeding and breathing pain.â
âBleeding and breathing painâ - such a poignantly sad and tragically accurate description of a country on the brink of something. Exactly what that something turns out to be is in the hands of each and every South African who feels that pain.
Scott Johnson is the author of the forthcoming memoir âThe Wolf and the Watchmanâ about life with his CIA father, to be released by W.W Norton in May, 2013