Trying to reveal the real, again

 

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Humankind has lived in moments of choice. Always. Sometimes those moments are monumental – the black death in the 1300s, the Industrial Revolution, the French Revolution in 1789, the Magna Carter in 1215, the death of Steve Biko, John Lennon and Yoko Ono staging their “bed-ins” for peace, or Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Sometimes they are smaller – the arrival of mini-skirts in the 60s, or the surge of rock & roll that terrified and thrilled parents in equal measure. And lately, with social media and AI, they are deeply personal and hugely political at the same time – the death of someone like Charlie Kirk for example, which leaves many people raw, searching and reflecting.

The Lennon/Ono protests in 1969 are a good reminder of how simple gestures can ripple through society. They literally invited journalists into their hotel beds in Amsterdam and Montreal, armed only with flowers, guitars and words. Their protest was naïve in some ways, yes. But it was also bold – a refusal to normalise violence during the Vietnam War. They chose absurdity as resistance, and in that absurdity, they made people think.

Each generation gets its flashpoints. Julius Malema’s recent judgment for hate speech is perhaps one of ours. Donald Trump’s ability to bend facts into “truths” – accepted by millions – is another. Both force us to ask: where is the line between free speech and harm?

I am unashamedly a believer in free speech. Strongly. Even when it upsets me. Even when what I say may upset others. But surely the line is not about “right” or “wrong” in some rigid, moralistic sense. It is about goodness. Humanity. Does our speech bring us closer together? Or does it divide and frighten?

Journalism and its Death (or Life Support)

We’ve been here before. Without fearless journalism, Watergate would never have forced Nixon out. Without South Africa’s Weekly Mail and Vrye Weekblad, apartheid’s darkest secrets would have remained hidden longer. Without Spotlight today, the dysfunction in our public health system would be less visible. Without AmaBhungane, the Zondo Commission might never have had such fertile ground to work with.

But let’s not be romantic. Journalism is dying – or at least, starved. South Africa is lucky to still have a largely independent media, but very few people actually read, pay and engage. We skim headlines. We consume outrage in bite-sized social media morsels. In countries like Russia, China, India and Iran – some of our BRICS “partners” – the concept of free media is theatre, a pantomime of state control.

If truth has no platform, what fills the vacuum? Conspiracy. Anger. Division.

Philosophy, Grey and African Voices

Philosophy has long grappled with right, wrong, good and bad. Kant argued for duty – some things are always wrong, regardless of consequence. Bentham and Mill gave us utilitarianism – the greatest good for the greatest number. Nietzsche rejected both, insisting on creating our own values – and as an individualist, that has often appealed most to me. Lately though, I am not so sure anymore.

Hannah Arendt warned about the fragility of truth in political life, especially when lies become normalised. Chantal Mouffe insists that democracy thrives not on eliminating conflict but on managing it – turning enemies into “adversaries” rather than “others” to be destroyed. Amartya Sen reminds us that development is not about GDP but about capabilities – what people are actually free and able to do (so vital in my own country, right now!)

And also crucially for us in Africa: Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart showed how colonialism tore societies apart by undermining their cultural and moral anchors. Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, in Decolonising the Mind, argued that reclaiming language and narrative is central to reclaiming dignity. Both insist that “truth” is never neutral – it is shaped by power, memory and who gets to tell the story (sadly, it is often still, HIStory.

Closer to home, Es’kia Mphahlele spoke of the “Afrikan personality” – not as a fixed essence but as something fluid, creative and resistant to dehumanisation. His memoir Down Second Avenue reminds us that dignity and agency can be reclaimed even in conditions of brutal inequality. Antjie Krog has wrestled with our contradictions in works like Country of My Skull and Begging to be Black, calling out pain and privilege with equal honesty. And how fitting that she will be at Woordfees in October, as will I, where at the EasyEquities Skrywersfees we will continue to explore and debate these very themes.

Complexity, Capitalism and Corruption

So when we ask: is it “wrong” to acknowledge inequality and do nothing about it? I’d say yes. When we ask: can we close inequality while remaining capitalists? Absolutely yes. Free markets, education, job creation, opportunity – these are still the best mechanisms we know. But markets alone will never be enough without values. Without humanity.

Similarly: is it “wrong” to call out corruption? No. But can we understand the roots of corruption? Also yes. Corruption always involves two parties, a giver and a taker, and often sits in contexts of desperation, survival or systemic failure. To acknowledge the complexity is not to excuse it. It is to humanise it – and then, to fix it.

Afrikaans is Groot – and So Are We

Last night I was at Afrikaans is Groot’s 100th concert. Nearly 50 000 people in the magnificent DHL Green Point Stadium. Laurika Rauch’s voice carried decades of memory. Riaan Cruywagen – cultural icon. Old FAK songs, bizarre and beautiful. Friends old and new (including one stalwart “token” English Lebanese mate!)

And yet: I found myself uneasy at times amidst all the joy, memories and pride. Why the assumption that all Afrikaners are Christian? I am proudly Afrikaans, and proudly Christian. But I am also acutely aware of the pain – and worse – caused in the name of those identities. Can we hold both? Can we be proud and self-critical, faithful yet inclusive?

I think we must be. Because identity is not a straight line. It is a mosaic, a layered conversation between past and present.

Against Polarisation

The world seems to crave polarisation. Left vs right. East vs west. Black vs white. But life – and people – are rarely so clean. My master’s thesis, “Revealing the Real,” explored Nobel Laureate Harold Pinter’s screenplays to show that reality itself is multiple, fragmented, elusive. I believed it then. I believe it even more now.

Which is why I urge (starting with myself): slow down. Think. Engage. Read widely. Listen deeply. Don’t only follow voices that echo your own. Accept that truth is contested, reality is plural. And that’s not a threat to our existence – it’s a gift for our future.

Mary Oliver, in her famous poem, asked: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Not one “safe” and “certain” life. Wild. Precious. Messy. That’s the gift.

Music as Memory and Mirror

Music, too, reminds us of complexity. I built a playlist for my 50th birthday (listen here) that carries so many of these themes. Johnny Clegg’s Asimbonanga – a call to remember, reconcile, and resist. Miriam Makeba’s Pata Pata – joy as defiance. Leonard Cohen’s Anthem – “there is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” Even Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody – chaotic, layered, refusing neat categories.

These songs are not just entertainment. They are philosophy set to melody. They show us that life is richer, truer, when we hold contradictions together instead of flattening them into certainty.

A Few Reminders from quotes i love

• Die with memories, not dreams.
• Life is too short to wake up with regrets.
• Love the people who treat you right. Forgive the ones who don’t.
• Happiness is the new rich. Inner peace is the new success. Health is the new wealth. Kindness is the new cool.

As I wrote recently on CN&CO – whether reflecting on Comrades, or on the transformative power of art, or on the importance of showing up – the thread is always the same. Grow. Be kind. Take ownership. Laugh at yourself. Apologise, fix, move on. LIVE and let live.

As John O’Donohue, the great Irish poet-priest-philosopher, once blessed us:

“May the light of your soul guide you.
May the light of your soul bless the work you do
with the secret love and warmth of your heart.
May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.
May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light and renewal
to those who work with you and to those who see and receive your work.”

We have one wild, precious life. Let’s not waste it.

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