Hits of our time

Ever alive with improbabilities, South Africa is exploding with anthems.

Not content with lyrical pleas to the ghost of De la Rey to return from Benoni and free the boere from the yoke of demockracy, anthems are cropping up everywhere. And, ironically, most seem inspired by the shambolic state of the nation.

As cricket commentator Robin Jackman is wont to say: “Now what do you make of that?”

I am told, reliably, that at an ANC shindig of some sort in 1994, the comrades and comradesses, transported by the euphoria of freedom, had — as is their wont about three times a minute — burst into the customary song-and-chant routine. Lifted to new heights of cadric fervour, the faithful toyi-toyied their sway into Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika, then the new national anthem.

But the enfranchised moving mass stopped moving when it came to the Afrikaans section. Enraged, president Nelson Mandela gave the crowd a stinging tongue-lashing, berating them for ignoring reconciliation, and ordered them to sing again — this time the full five-language version.

Sadly that calibre of leadership is gone. Now word is there are some who would see the Springboks, hands on their hearts and Bryan Habana’s eyes shut as usual, bellowing Umshini Wami across Loftus.

By the same token there are others who believe the current national anthem should stay, but want to change the words from “God bless Africa” to “God help Africa”. Incidentally, are you not bemused by the fact that an ideologically atheist party and alliance so readily calls on the Christian God (to whom Sontonga intended the original hymn) to shower them with blessings?

I guess that’s so that when they screw up — like now — they can blame it on Nkosi. That’s a fundamental principle of African nationalism, pan-Africanism and even Afrikaner Nasionalisme too: must have someone or something to blame. Only take the kudos for success — no responsibility for failure. Mister Angazi got that one.

Eishkom has given us the new anthem Hello Darkness, My Old Friend, the sequel to Candle in the Wind, which went out very quickly.

However, it is important to remember that the Eiskommunist version itself derives from the Mbeki’ite anthem inspired by his quiet diplomacy to the crisis in Zimbobwe — The Sounds of Silence.

His hymnists are working hard on a new version called I’m Not a Rock, I Am an Ai-yai-yai-land.

Not to be outdone by his master, Pravin Gordhan at Sars has adopted a new jingoistic jingle to celebrate making it practically impossible for taxpayers to meet the deadline for e-filing. With masses such as yours truly trying unsuccessfully for three weeks to register by internet, email, telephone, drums, smoke signals and sticking pins into wax models of spokesperson Adrian Lackay, Papa Doc Pravin’s office now resounds to I Hear You Knocking, But You Can’t Come In.

Not to be outdone, Britney Tshabalala-Msimang has her minion (she only has one she found at an intersection with a cardboard sign saying “Wil do ennifing for $$$”) negotiating with The Who for the rights to Who Are You? after their bid to license Won’t Get Pissed Again failed.

Jackie “Check My Mate” Selebi is awaiting a response from Sting (no pun intended) to use as his anthem The Police’s (what’s a pun?) Every Move You Make, while the new capo di tutti capi of the ANC, His Most Esteemed Excellency Number One Chief Dude Boss Boogeymeister Supreme Showerhead Zuma Simpson, is reported to have dropped his militant rhythm and is bringing out an album of anthems called Disgraceland, featuring numbers such as Uninfectable, Can’t Buy Me Glove, Yes, I’ve Got No Punani, Lay Lady Lay and the theme song from Jackass: The Series, Bribe Me to the Moon.

While on the subject of theme songs, I wonder if there isn’t something for me? Something with an Eighties touch; a bit on the naughty side — say, oral sex — and some trivial question about Judaism for Mel Gibson. We could call it Eighty Blow Fun Answer Here, Mel.

Dyafink? It’s a push, I know, but surely … somewhere … somehow … some way …