ANC dishcloths itself in disgrace

One of my favourite Joan Rivers comedy sketches is when she tells the audience that although she is Jewish, she decided to erect a Christmas tree so as not to feel too left out. There were, however, certain aspects about the nativity scene that worried her, so she went about, for example, giving Jesus a nanny – he was Jewish, after all. Having corrected a few items, her focus moved on to Mary, who, in her opinion, was dressed in a terrible blue “shmata”. And so, she reimagined her in a Chanel suit with a matching Hermès bag. “You are the mother of G-d!” says Rivers. “Look it!”

Not to compare the African National Congress (ANC) to anything remotely holy, but it, too, is in need of an intervention. Its support for Hamas is shocking enough; there’s really no need to add a crime of fashion to the list by wearing assorted coloured dishcloths. A number of social media commentators have complained that this is cultural appropriation of the ugliest kind – I assume of Palestinians. To me, it looks more like they have fleeced their local pizzeria and trattoria. Either that or their wives’ dishcloth drawer.

The ANC has increasingly distanced itself from its Jewish constituents, adopting stances that have marginalised the very community that once stood in solidarity with its liberation struggle. This shift is exemplified by the ANC’s overt support for Hamas and its antagonistic policies toward Israel, actions that have alienated South Africa’s Jewish population.

Given this evident disdain, it’s hardly surprising that the ANC would be precluded from seeking counsel from renowned Jewish fashion designers. Figures like Ralph Lauren, Diane von Fürstenberg, and Calvin Klein have left indelible marks on the fashion industry, much like Jewish activists once contributed significantly to the anti-apartheid movement. Yet, the ANC’s current trajectory will result in a consequential sidelining of Jewish influence, both culturally and politically.

This alienation not only impoverishes the ANC’s cultural and intellectual resources, it underscores a troubling hypocrisy. While the party drapes itself in symbols of international solidarity, it simultaneously ostracises a community that played a pivotal role in South Africa’s own journey to freedom.

The ANC’s penchant for donning keffiyehs seems less about genuine support and more about a misguided fashion statement. It’s as if its members believe that accessorising with these scarves will somehow mask the myriad domestic issues plaguing South Africa. While they parade around in their newfound attire, the country grapples with loadshedding, unemployment, and a faltering economy.

Their sartorial choices might be forgivable if they were matched by effective governance at home. Instead, we witness a government more invested in international posturing than in addressing the pressing needs of its own citizens. The irony is palpable: championing the cause of distant lands while local communities cry out for attention.

Solidarity with international movements is commendable, but not when it comes at the expense of one’s own backyard. South Africans deserve leaders who are as committed to resolving domestic challenges as they are to global causes. Until then, maybe they should leave the fashion statements to the runway and get back to the business of governance. Really, it’s time to remove the dishcloths from their heads and use them to clean up the mess that they have created.