Even if Trump does smell, don't tell him so

IF YOU'RE invited to someone's home and you notice your host smells, dont' tell him so. Just grin and bear it to keep the relationship going.

That probably sums up the fatherly advice offered by former president and statesman, Thabo Mbeki to the now expelled South African ambassador to the United States, Ebrahim Rasool.

Speaking to Unisa students in Pretoria recently, Mbeki made it clear he's an old friend and comrade of Rasool but was not surprised  the ambassador had been expelled for his remarks linking Donald Trump to white supremacy.

"Because it means, practically, you make an assessment of your host president, which is negative, and you want to sit with that president tomorrow, they won't agree."

Well, when I last checked, South Africa's strained relationship with the USA remains largely unresolved, so it's time for some frank talk and honest assessment of the whole imbroglio.

It's my view that Rasool was the wrong man for the job. I'd go further to say he was probably South Africa's most undiplomatic diplomat since the dawn of democracy here. Yes, he may have got a rousing applause from diehard supporters when he touched down at Cape Town airport recently, bragging that he had no regrets about his expulsion and warning that America cannot dictate to South Africa who its allies should be. But when all is said and done, all that tough talk and hero's welcome was no more than a pyrrhic celebration.

The damage has been done and it won't be easy repairing relations between the two countries. Rasool may have won a minor battle but lost the war. There's no doubt that he's a highly-respected stalwart in the Struggle against apartheid and has his heart in the right place.

Diplomats are bridge builders

But as a diplomat, he should have realised his role as our ambassador to Washington DC. was as a bridge-builder, not a bridge demolisher.

We all have our views about Donald Trump (the good, the bad and the downright stinky), but whether we like his politics or not, he happens to be  the elected leader of one of the most powerful countries in the world.

As Mbeki put it, the posting of an ambassador is by agreement with the host country. That being so, President Trump was entitled to make his own assessment that this person (Rasool) is of such a calibre and quality with whom he could engage. Under such circumstances, such an envoy couldn't go around expressing negative opinions about his host.

"You can't make speeches to say that one doesn't wash. He's smelling. You can't do that."

Then, to a round of chuckles from his audience, Mbeki quipped: "It may be correct (that Trump does smell), but you can't say that because it means that from then on, there's no way I (Trump) can talk to him (Rasool)."

Despite his friendship with and respect for Rasool, the former president believed in this instance, Rasool had made a mistake. He said things about his host president he should never have said. I see President Cyril Ramaphosa is in no particular hurry to decide on Rasool's successor, but is looking for what, he calls, a "top notch" candidate to take over.

If by that he means "no more cadre deployments", that's music to my ears.

Pencil in the date, August 22, a mere four months away.

It marks the 60th anniversary of the day my old friend, Thumba Pillay and his lovely wife, Dolly, tied the knot at their wedding in Isipingo, just outside Durban.

Now, some may well ask, what's so special about that? It happens almost every day that couples meet, fall in love and decide to spend the rest of their lives together. The story's as old as that of Adam and Eve. What was however so shamefully bizarre and cruel in their case was the unholy interference of the apartheid secret police in their sacred nuptials.

Just three days before the wedding, Thumba, who is now a retired judge, was issued with a banning order by the apartheid authorities. Why? Because as a dedicated freedom fighter, he dared to take a public stand against blatant racial discrimination, egregious inequalities and a system of unjust laws that rendered all people of colour in South Africa second class citizens in the land of their birth.

And to punish him - as well as hundreds of other courageous anti-apartheid comrades at the time - he was subjected to bannings; house arrest, was not allowed to leave Durban, attend social or political gatherings, or have more than one visitor at his home at any given time.

Apartheid's secret police, the Special Branch (SB), had one look at the couple's wedding invitation list and feared political stalwarts like JN Singh, Monty Naicker, Fatima Meer, Hassen Mall and Ismail Meer, who they branded as communists, were likely to attend. What did they fear - a violent regime change at the ceremony?

So Thumba was barred from attending his own wedding reception.

The SB later allowed him just one hour to attend the religious ceremony and then leave promptly, with Dolly remaining to take charge of the rest of the day's proceedings on her own. Thumba, who is now enjoying his retirement with Dolly at their home in uMhlanga, hopes the so-called "born-frees" across all communities in South Africa today will ensure we never go back to those bad old days.

He  hopes telling the story about his extraordinary wedding experience will help young South Africans understand the rabid paranoia that prevailed among security police in the heydays of  apartheid. Lest we forget.

Order, order!

Since I cannot afford watching pro wrestling on DStv's SmackDown series, I sometimes settle for live local Parliamentary debates for sheer escapism. And last week's rowdy and raucous exchanges in the much-vaunted budget debate in Cape Town provided all the frivolous entertainment my soul yearned for.

It was all there - the bitter accusations and scathing counter accusations, insults and personal innuendo, spurious points of order ( and disorder) and a chorus of angry complaints to the Speaker, Thoko Didiza, mainly from the ranks of the EFF and MKP, that they couldn't hear anything being said.

"It's too noisy," they protested.

Speaker Didiza tried to calm the waters by advising MPs to use their earphones, but as the saying goes, there are none so deaf as those who will not hear. As our teachers so often reminded us in class years ago, it's impossible to hear anything if everyone is speaking at the same time.

Dennis Pather is a retired newspaper editor, author and columnist.Email him at kaydenpather@gmail.com

¡ From newsroom gofer to award-winning editor, join South African media legend Dennis Pather on a fascinating trip down memory lane in his captivating memoir, Copy Boy. This heart-warming journey takes you inside the newsroom, filled with laughter, hard-earned wisdom, and the power of family. As a special offer to readers of POST, you can now get a copy of Copy Boy, for just R100. WhatsApp 078 593 0585 for delivery details or 083 452 2831 for direct collection.

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media. 

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