National debate? More like clash of igorant armies!

Anyone who has been following South African political discourse in recent weeks will be forgiven for thinking that rationality, like elitism, is apparently not for everyone. Rationality and cool-headedness offend many of our politicians. Consequently, the state of political discourse in South Africa is downright embarrassing. This impoverishes our democracy profoundly.

In 1994, we set out to live in a deliberative and a participatory democracy, which meant the embrace of an ideal society in which ideas are coolly exchanged by all of us, and everyone plays by the rules of reasoned debate.

This ideal remains tragically elusive, 16 years into the democratic game. Why? What explains this sad state of affairs? And, without ripping the humanity and emotion out of political discourse (which are not unimportant features), how do we nevertheless improve the quality of our political discourse?

We are asked by all and sundry to "debate this and that" as if an invitation to debate is by itself something terribly virtuous and praiseworthy. But before we can debate any of the substantive issues at the heart of the "national debate", we need to be equipped to structure political argument more rationally, and recognise certain rules of engagement that can help us back onto the path towards a deliberative and participatory democracy.

First, however, we need to get a full grip on the problem. Way too often, politicians engage each other, and us, in irrational exchanges - and behave in ways that are, quite simply, distasteful. The most dramatic recent example, of course, is Julius Malema's display of political childishness when he expelled a BBC journalist from a press conference.

Malema's performance was in the first instance an aesthetic assault on the senses - but if these kinds of antics were merely aesthetically jarring, maybe we would have less reason to get nervous about our body politic; unfortunately, that is not the end of the story. The contents of the arguments (or what pass as arguments) are limp, too.

Take, for example, the response of Lindiwe Sisulu, the minister of defence, to the motion of no confidence tabled in parliament by COPE. Using invective that sounded like it had been penned by Malema, she desisted from engaging with the content of the motion and instead tried to personally attack opposition politicians, belittling them and challenging their right to table a motion of that kind at all.

Choice quotes from Sisulu's display of intolerance and irrationality include: "Why are we even debating such silliness? How do we come to even have it on our order paper? But importantly: how do we as parliament deal with such frivolity in future?"

She proceeded to contemplate a change to parliamentary rules to stop such a motion in future - but could not, unfortunately, find "reference in our rules to how parliament can deal with such a waste of time and resources". Her final insult was saved for COPE's parliamentary leader, Methodist bishop Mvume Dandala, at whom she shouted: "Get out and go and serve the church!"

This is also an example of a distasteful response, of course. But it is more than that. If we ignore the inflammatory passion of the speaker, and assess the content of her response to the motion, it is clear that it is irrational.

First, she is attacking the right of opposition leaders to table such a motion. This shows either a basic lack of understanding about the rules of parliament, or a pernicious attempt to ignore them. One smells the latter motivation, since the minister must know the rules, surely? It is an attempt to dent the credibility of a debate opponent, rather than simply getting on with engaging the basis of their political criticism. It is hardly a sophisticated example of playing the person rather than the ball.

Second, the response shows no attempt to understand the content of an opposing party's argument, or to dismantle it logically, evidentially, and with more acceptable rhetorical skill and flair than being rude and abrasive. Sisulu's performance in parliament on that day was not merely in bad political taste. It was also a master class in irrational and destructive political discourse.

And if you think that the ruling party has a monopoly on this dialogical skills deficit, you are very wrong. Irrationality is found everywhere in our body politic.

Take the Democratic Alliance's Helen Zille in the aftermath of the death of Eugene Terre Blanche. She failed to recognise an opportunity to steal our hearts and minds by showing emotional maturity and imaginative leadership on "the race question". Instead, she went on a tirade about the plight of farmers (as opposed to both farmers and farm workers), warning us, most melodramatically, about "a tidal wave of pent-up rage and frustration". One senior member of one of the mostly Afrikaner civil rights organisations joked with me, in an accurate aside, that Zille's response was less balanced than anything from Afriforum or Solidarity. But this response was hers to make. And perhaps it speaks to her constituency, so we cannot criticise it too harshly.

More importantly, however, is that there is an aspect of this reaction to the murder of Terre Blanche that demonstrated irrationality, too. Zille immediately sought to link the event of Terre Blanche's killing to the singing of a struggle song by Malema, even though the police had barely started their investigation.

Zille's response was not evidence-based. It was mere assertion. And it was an assertion motivated by political opportunism. This is irrational. Only claims that are proportional to the available evidence are worth putting in the public domain - at least if you fancy yourself as someone who respects the rules of logic and reasoned debate.

Why, you might wonder, are we saddled with this shoddy state of political debate? There are at least three reasons.

First, politicians are human. And humans are not logic machines. We are motivated by our most deeply held beliefs, which often colour the way we interpret evidence and influence the manner in which we respond to others.

Second, we do not teach critical thinking and debate in our schools or universities. Only the nerdish among us join a debate club. So our politicians often join parliament never having been taught the hard skills of structured debate and persuasive speaking.

Third, and most importantly, we are still suffering the negative aspects of the legacy of liberation politics. The ANC, as a liberation movement, did not and could not honour the rules of open, deliberative debate as deeply as one hoped it now would as a parliamentary party. Some writers claim otherwise, but this strikes me as exaggeration at best. A few of the leaders of the struggle might have had late-night fireside chats, but in essence the ANC had to operate like an army with an army's top-down approach to decision making. Since the ANC, in turn, dominates our political landscape, we collectively suffer its inability to adapt quickly enough to parliamentary democracy.

One macabre solution is simply to wait for a generational shift to happen; no one lives forever. In the meantime, debate- coaching and critical-thinking classes in parliament might be a good starting point. It will be way more useful than induction processes that simply show members of parliaments the seats in which they will be sleeping for the next five years. We have a massive challenge on our hands.

http://www.timeslive.co.za/local/article408986.ece/National-debate-More-like-the-clash-of-ignorant-armies