Africa has a tendency to emphasise the VIP status of a VIP, writes COLIN GARDNER
Much has been written recently about the high-speed motorcades which are used in South Africa to whisk political VIPs from one venue to another. I approach the topic with some diffidence, as I have a number of mixed feelings about the matter; I also cannot claim to be well-informed about the no doubt rich and varied history of cavalcades and motorcades. But I feel some compulsion to attempt to say something partly because so many letter-writers have expressed their views on the subject.
Perhaps I might begin by saying a little about these letters, in this and in other newspapers. The letter-writing columns are of course an important facet of a democracy: firmly and often passionately people express their views, which are frequently critical of the powers that be, without any fear that some Big Brother is likely to victimise them. Writing letters to the newspaper is also frustrating, however, as the views that get expressed seem seldom to be taken account of by those same powers that be. As things stand at the moment, the overwhelming majority of letters to the editor tend to come, not surprisingly, from members of the minority groups in our society. The amount of indignation that has been aroused by the fast motorcades has been remarkable. There could hardly have been more letters if the motorcades had killed several people – which they have not (so far, thank God).
It is quite often cultural clashes which cause both indignation and letters to the editor. Are these motorcades, then, a focus of specifically cultural disagreement? Perhaps they are.
In the history of Europe grand processions and cavalcades (the word comes from the French word for a horse) were the prerogative of royalty. As monarchs lost their political power or simply faded away, cavalcades, where they took place at all, were associated with political leaders. But with the advent of democracy, cavalcades became problematical: they emphasise the VIP status of the incumbent, whereas the thrust of democracy is that the incumbent is a man or woman of the same sort as everyone else.
The tension between the president or prime minister or cabinet minister as a VIP and as an ordinary person is a tricky one, and different societies have tended to handle it in different ways. Britain, for example, with its passion for discretion and understatement, tries to avoid anything approaching a noisy motorcade. VIPs are ushered quietly, undramatically and expertly from place to place without anyone knowing what has happened. (Britain does, however, still allow its queen to hold occasional stately processions which interfere with the normal traffic flow quite seriously.) Other countries, on the other hand, are not averse to a little razzmatazz. One thinks of the United States for example. Africa is a continent which seems to have a distinct general tendency to emphasise the VIP status of a VIP. This is at times alarming: people like Jean Bokassa, Idi Amin and Robert Mugabe have allowed themselves to become such super-VIPs that ordinary people get left behind, or worse. But the desire to see a VIP as a somewhat special person — a desire which probably everyone feels to some degree — is not necessarily in itself a bad thing. I think that behind some of the letters of complaint about swift motorcades there may lie the instincts of a discreet European unhappy about an African sense of the VIP.
But there is another important consideration, one that is indeed so important that what I have written so far might seem largely irrelevant. That is the question of security. VIPs, some of them, like to show themselves; but they also like to hide from possible assassins. Political assassination is a danger everywhere, even in the calmest countries, but in some places the danger is quite intense. What of South Africa? There is a lot of crime here, as everyone knows. We are a fairly stable polity, in which assassination would not make much sense, but on the other hand our new democracy began at a time when there was a good deal of political violence and many more threats of violence. An anxiety about security could hardly be described as irrational.
But then there is the further question: do rapid cavalcades provide more security than the movement of people at an ordinary speed in ordinary cars? I don’t know, but perhaps they do.
A recent letter to this paper by Logan Maistry, writing on behalf of the KwaZulu-Natal premier, pointed out that swift motor cavalcades are not by any means unknown in other countries, and that our traffic laws do make provision for such cavalcades (just as they do for fast-moving ambulances or police cars): they all fall, it seems, into the category of emergencies.
My own personal taste, I have to admit, is for a somewhat quieter and less intrusive form of VIP security. Blazing sirens remind me of what I have read of fiercely repressive regimes. I can understand the feelings of the letter-writers. But I think it may be to some degree a cultural issue, and maybe those who are unhappy should try to be more tolerant.
On the other hand, the powers that be might consider a rethink on this issue.
They were not even aware that 'a squatter' was on their tail
