Durban, South Africa — While conference delegates from all over the world debate the rights and wrongs and pros and cons of Zionism and slavery in the South African port city of Durban this week, local people have their own views about the United Nations World Conference Against Racism (WCAR), Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia and Related Intolerance.
What they all seem to want in common are positive, durable and tangible results - the same stated aspirations of the conference-goers meeting at the International Convention Centre in Durban.
Durbanites should know. Living in a country where apartheid racism was only formally excised from the statute books in 1994, they have strong views on the state of affairs in South Africa seven years later.
One outspoken and disappointed returnee from exile is Lallitha Jawahirilal, an artist, art lecturer and academic. She returned home in 1994 but, despite applying for jobs, cannot find permanent employment in the art departments of the higher institutions of learning in her native province, KwaZulu Natal, where the city of Durban is located. She is currently teaching at an art trust.
Jawahirilal puts this down to racism. She says the academic art field was dominated by white South Africans during the apartheid era and very little has changed today.
Shaking her head in both anger and despair, Jawahirilal launches into a coherent and articulate rant about what she considers to be the woes of her particular discipline. She tells allAfrica that her main concern is for the current generation of black art students who she fears will never find work in any university in South Africa.
She does not exactly scoff at the Racism Conference taking place in her city, and says it is a good thing in theory. But she has her doubts that it will change anything and finds it ironic rather than fitting that South Africa has been chosen to host it.
The fact that Durban was chosen as the venue unleashes a stream of emotions and some bitter memories in Jawahirilal. The other reason for her outburst is the presence of a black art student, who is wearing a badge saying 'Artists for Human Rights.
She quizzes the young man and asks him how many black lecturers or external assessors teach him at Natal Tecnikon. The answer to both questions is 'none, except one black part time Saturday teacher in the sculpture department.
This sets Lallitha Jawahirilal off again. "There is still a very great distinction between black artists and white artists (in South Africa). I dont have actual facts, because I havent done factual research on this," she says, "But I do know from my home town here in KwaZulu Natal that most of the academics lecturing in arts - whether it is sculpture, painting, art history or whatever, even tourism - they are all white or mainly white. Maybe they will have one lecturer on contract who is black, or part time lecturers who may be black".
Why, nine years after apartheid is no longer legal, why do the white academics who lecture in art, not open their hearts and their souls? Why are they closing up?" she laments.
Jawahirilal says that she has fought her fight against apartheid and does not feel like starting another fight. "I cannot fight alone. We cant do it alone. We are qualified. We are highly qualified. I think we need the whites to talk to us. We do need all the universities in South Africa to talk to us, to invite us and say we need the Africans, we need the Indians, we need everyone".
She gives the example of two colleagues who have left arts to move into the health and other sectors, because they need to earn a living. Jawahirilal herself is planning to leave South Africa for good, "because I cannot pay my bills".
The Indian South African artist concludes her impromptu lecture, saying "in every country in the world, without arts and culture, the country will be starved of spirituality".
This raw view of racism could not differ more from the pronouncements of a young girl, Shyian, from South Africas coloured community "Racism is when everyone loves each other. People are nice. Racism is good to be in South Africa" she says blithely, with the disarming innocence of an eight year old with a big toothless grin.
Barefoot and carefree, Shyian is spending her day at the Victoria Embankment Waterfront in Durban, where shes hoping to be able to slip unnoticed onto one of the cruise boats for a ride on the Indian Ocean.
Of course, her answer is not correct, but Shyians definition of racism is one that many people, in and out of the Durban conference, wish could be the reality in South Africa and all over the world. Gently corrected, Shyian changes her tune and says it would be 'very bad for someone to tell her that they didnt like her because of her colour.
Her 7 year-old Indian South African friend, Ryan, is hesitant and freezes when it is his turn to answer the same question about the meaning of racism. Ryan is not alone. Many of the conference delegates have had trouble articulating precisely what the practice should encompass.
Ryan simply cannot get any words out. But, after witnessing the spontaneous response from his little friend, Shyian, he sums up the courage to speak out. "Racism means that you mustnt tell people that theyre black, coloured, Indian or..."
His mother, Noeleen, 35, says she has taught her son to respect everyone, regardless of colour or creed and she hopes that is how South Africans are raising their children, in a nation that is home to many cultures and races.
"Its the way we bring our children up and the way we teach them and allow them to interact with others and dont see a person for the colour that they are. We dont talk about whether people are Indian, white or black, but for the way that the person is, for the character of the person," says Noeleen.
She says she is pleased that the Racism Conference is happening in Durban. "Its a very good thing that the world is getting together like this and discussing an issue that is prevalent throughout the entire world".
Negotiating the price of fish with Noeleens husband Gordon, at the Durban Waterfront, is Brian, who is a builder by profession. He identifies some large Rock Cod and Red Snapper and, after finishing this transaction, turns his attention to racism and the conference in Durban.
Brian is a strapping, burly, middle-aged man with an unidentifiable face and skin colour. In fact, he was classified as coloured under the old apartheid laws, but says he managed to pass as white so that he could go to the cinemas and entertainment areas he chose in Cape Town where he was born.
"I am probably one of the fortunate ones. I really wasnt affected before. Maybe it wasnt right that I was sitting on a fence. I was in quite a comfort zone. I used to turn a blind eye to it (racism) which was wrong also, very, very wrong. I should have actually spoken out more against it, because thats the only way it would have brought about the change quicker".
But, says Brian, "for all my friends I have never been but a coloured. I have never classified myself as white". Though he may never have experienced the humiliation of apartheid upfront, Brian says plenty of his black friends did.
He admits that he is now feeling the effects of affirmative action in South Africa, because there may be a perception that he benefited from apartheid. Brian says he believes this could account for him losing out on contract bids to obviously black competitors.
Returning to the question of the conference, and the potential benefits that may come to Durban, as prestigious host venue of the Anti-Racism get- together, as well as the politics of the gathering, Brian spoke almost prophetically on Sunday, on the eve of the walkout by the United States delegation.
He said "In a way Im sorry America wasnt here. If they had come here they could have put their point across more forcefully".