When I read the novella ‘Animal Farm’, written by George Orwel (real name Eric Arthur Blair) when I was 14 years old (no wonder the love of literature I have), I thought it was just a fable of animals and their owner, Mr Jones of Manor Farm.
It was when I became a teacher, and was analysing the book with secondary and tertiary students, that I realised the story in Animal Farm was an allegory or metaphor that was satirising some of the follies of human beings – in this case, dictatorship and betrayal of the revolution.
The pigs, which formed the ruling elite in ‘Animal Farm’ after the overthrow of the human race, represented by Mr Jones, gradually but surely disregarded all the values of the revolution, and adopted the vices of human beings, which they and other animals had successfully fought against in the liberation struggle.
The pigs, much to the dismay of the other animals, established a strong relationship with their neighbour, Mr Pilkington, against their rule: “Everything that goes on two legs is an enemy”, referring to human beings.
“Everything that goes on two legs and has wings” was later added to cater for birds.
Then came the most painful and shocking part towards the end of the story. Napoleon, the president of the animals, announced in the presence of their neighbour, Mr Pilkington, that “hitherto the animals on the farm had had a rather foolish custom of addressing one another as “comrade”.
This was to be suppressed. Napoleon was only now, for the first time, announcing the name ‘Animal Farm’ had been abolished.
Henceforward, the farm was to be known as “The Manor Farm”, which, he believed, was its correct and original name”.
Back to square one. To their surprise, “The creatures/animals outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again, but already it was impossible to say which was which”.
This is how the book ends.
At this juncture, I want to draw a parallel between the story in the book Animal Farm and the story unravelling in South Africa after the 29 May elections.
The developments in South Africa in the past few days that saw the African National Congress and the right-wing Democratic Alliance having a marriage of convenience, have put political pundits in sixes and sevens.
Who would have imagined the two diametrically opposite parties could ever come together to form a government of national unity?
The ANC represents the black majority of South Africans, who suffered under white supremacist policies, and the DA represents the white monopoly capital – the two joining hands in what has been described as the ANC’s stark betrayal of Nelson Mandela’s 27-year incarceration at Robben Island for fighting for the liberation of his country, and a betrayal of the nation.
Part of the ANC’s reasons for choosing to work with the DA are peace, unity and democracy.
Whose democracy? What democracy?
Talking of democracy, on 11 November 1947, prime minister Winston Churchill said in the House of Commons: “Many forms of government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe.
No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise.
Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of government, except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time”.
Whether constitutional democracy or parliamentary democracy, tongues are wagging from progressive forces.
Suffice to say that there are those on the left, the centre and the right.
Progressive forces advance the following narrative.
They say that the grave of Steve Bantu Biko is drenched in tears.
Chris Hani’s tomb is agape, weeping.
Victims of the Soweto Class of 1976 and Sharpeville massacres are screaming and asking, “Senzeni na?”
Tonnes and tonnes of the flesh of multitudes of comrades and masses consumed by the apartheid machines are puzzled and flabbergasted, begging to understand, asking rhetorical questions: “But why? What went wrong with our comrades?”
The eerie silence is frightening, symbolising the paradoxical situation in which you imagine wolves and sheep sharing the same kraal, sharing the laager mentality.
But suddenly, voices of the masses at the crescendo chant, “Betrayal, Comrades! Betrayal Comrades!”
The whole scenario reminds me of the story of Matigari (the patriots that survived the bullets) in the book Matigari by Kenyan author Ngugi wa Thi’ong’o.
In many of his escapades in independent Kenya, Matigari asks a rhetorical question: “Where can one find peace and justice in this country?”
Some analysts with lazy intellectualism and others with myopic judgement have praised the new dispensation in South Africa. Some progressive forces have already judged that the ANC‘s benign overtures to the DA in the new GNU will not be reciprocated by the latter, arguing that the inclusion of the former in the GNU will have malign outcomes in South Africa in the long run.
Whether it will come to pass like the progressive forces are predicting, time, the magician, will tell.
All we should do is wish the Rainbow Nation the best in every respect.
*Professor Jairos Kangira is a rhetoric scholar and professor of English at the University of Namibia.