White guilt and privilege

Regular readers of this blog will know that one of my pet interests is exploring issues of white guilt in South Africa. I read an interesting quote the other day that got me thinking on this topic once again:

"South Africa’s value system is changing, in ways largely independent of the mood of racial rapprochement and egalitarianism associated with the end of apartheid. These changes, including the consolidation of free-market ideology, the profit motive, privatisation and the commodification of popular culture, may work against the very values which the overthrow of apartheid was supposed to promote, instead exacerbating the individualistic hedonism characteristic of the privileged minority"

- DM Smith (1999) Social justice and the ethics of development in post-apartheid South Africa, Ethics, Vol. 2(2), pp 157-177.

I was chatting to a black colleague about two months ago when I was working at the City of Cape Town. We were discussing all things material: cars, cellphones, houses etc. It was fascinating for me to hear his perspective on wealth and materialism, coming from a completely different place from me. He told me that when he left school in the township and first went to Tech, that was the day he decided that he would never travel by train or by taxi ever again. He got himself into debt and bought a nice car. It was both a matter of pride and a determined desire never to go back to the conditions he had come from. And so he will never live in a township again. His goal in life is to drive a yellow Lamborghini – to be the first black guy in town to do so.

Then the conversation turned to me and he was rather surprised to hear that I don’t own a car, or a house, and I have a pretty basic cellphone. I explained that I didn’t really need a car right now, but that I will probably need one next year. “With the salary you’ll be getting, you could easily afford [payments for] a new Golf or something”, he assured me. “Actually, I’ll probably just get a second-hand Tazz”, I replied. He was shocked.

There is a fundamental difference to the way we view wealth, and it has, for me, a lot to do with white guilt. You see, for him wealth and status symbols represent accessing opportunities that were formerly deprived of him, his family and his ‘people’ (his term, not mine). This is a totally understandable position. On the other hand, as a self-consciously white South African I am embarrassed by outward displays of wealth. I feel that so much of white South Africa’s prosperity has been (and still is) gained at the expense of South Africans of colour, that flaunting it is a bit crass. The continuing inequality in South Africa also means that these displays fuel the feelings of resentment that the poor still have against whites. That so many whites can shamelessly celebrate their wealth, in my opinion, indicates how they blissfully choose to ignore the realities in our country. It is fairly simple to link white wealth to our privileged position in society. Our wealth is, in most cases, gained from inheritance or attributable to the social capital that was afforded to us through access to superior education and job opportunities. You cannot simply argue that apartheid is now over and everyone now has equal opportunities.

This rambling post may seem to be a bit of self-flagellation, or a hypocritical attempt to shun materialism, but it is all part of a process of coming to terms with what it means to be a white South Africa and about finding a place in our society. I am also not judging those previously disadvantaged South Africans who are embracing the opportunities to accumulate wealth. However, I have seen what damage a consumerist culture can do and the dangers of debt in a materialist world are real and potentially life-destroying. The “individualistic hedonism” referred to in the quote above is certainly not a positive force in our country.