Guide to Negotiating With Thugs

Bheki Cele tells officials to ‘get off their high horses’ and negotiate with Santaco over taxi strike that turned violent

From a news report 

Dear Mister Cele. 

Your weird...., pardon, wisdom, never ceases to amaze me.  I am surprised that you have not been offered the chair of philosophy or criminology at some eminent university. 

The negotiation idea is brilliant.  I know from experience that it works extremely well.  I was hijacked once.  I did not have a high horse to get off,  but I got off my HiAce.  Using techniques learnt from the book 'Getting to Yes', as well as various negotiating skills training courses,  I was able to pursuade the AK-47 bearing gentlemen to shoot me once only, instead of four times.  A genuine win-win situation,  wouldn't you say? 

I see this approach working in any situation where one is faced by violent thugs or mindless lunatics.  I am sure that negotiating with a suicide bomber, for example,  would at least gain one sufficient time to say a heartfelt prayer, before departing precipitately for the 'bourn from whence no traveller returns'. 

I  trust that this is working well for you in the grim struggle against crime and violence in our land.  I should think that despite the challenges of population growth,  (which you alluded to earlier), expert negotiation is having a significant impact on the numbers of murders, rapes,  hijackings, armed robberies, daylight robberies by politicians and friends, and all the other things that make South Africa special. The thing is that many people do not realise that beneath the hard, AK-47 bearing exterior of your average thug is a very reasonable, rational and perhaps even amiable and gentle person. It is to this person that I am sure that your negotiation tactics would appeal.

I am now filled with regret at having  administered a rather vigorous kick to the loins of the last person who tried to mug me.  I so wish that I had negotiated instead.  I see us leaning against opposite, dead, street lamps in that deserted road,  diligently working on our best-case, worst-case,  likely middle- ground and best-alternative-to- negotiated-agreement scenarios.  Who knows but that the process may even have brought us closer together? Perhaps even forged a friendship. Discussing varied approaches to the gentle art of mugging over tea or a glass of red wine? Co-authoring, for posterity, a seminal work entitled 'The Compleat Mugger'? 

Sir, I don't know whether you also wagged a figurative, righteous forefinger at the protesting taxi gentlemen.   I hope that you were careful not to upset them. One knows how sensitive taxi people can be.  

Of course you are familiar with the five key principles in any conflict resolution situation. 

1. Maintain or enhance self-esteem. Example :

"Your AK-47 looks wonderfully well maintained. Good work."

2. Listen and respond with empathy.  

Example:

"Yes, it must be frustrating to be ticketed so many times for reckless driving. Those tickets do take up space in the glove compartment."

3. Asking for help and encouraging involvement.

Example:

"So how do you suggest that we ensure that all these petty, local and national road regulations don't get in the way of your all important business of serving the community and getting filthy rich?"

4. Sharing thoughts, feelings and rationale to build trust. 

Example:

"I'm going to level with you. It leaves us with a bad feeling when you piss on other people's rights and safety.  How does that make you feel?  Fokol?  Okay,  honesty is good. Facts are friendly. Let's work with that."

5. Providing support without removing responsibility to build a sense of ownership. 

Example:

"Okay,  we are happy for you to have the bus lanes and the other special lanes. But we need you to take responsibility for driving safely and within the law in those lanes.  Can we have your word on that?  We trust you to manage that as responsibly and considerately as you've managed everything else."

So there we have it - a progressive, productive, win-win situation.  The thugs win everything.  The city and  the citizens win buggerall.  Classic South African negotiating, problem-solving and conflict handling. That's the kind of thing that's made us an example to the world. We really should write the best-selling successor to 'Getting to Yes' and 'Getting Past No', namely 'Getting to Eish'.

Thought-provoking stuff, Mr Cele, deep as a zama-zama's main shaft.

Yours in the struggle for mature,  responsible,  interest-based negotiating wins. 

Richard 

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O Tichmann 

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Bringing Down Gordhan

To the tune of 'Going Down Jordan'

Apologies to Harry Belafonte 

We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

I was livin' me life as non-partisan 
Let me tell you how I changed to an Effer man
I was livin' me life as non-partisan 
Let me tell you how I changed to an Effer man

One day I was walking down Nasrec street
Poor and hungry, no shoes on me feet
I passed a door and heard "Kill the Boer"
It was the smell of food made me look some more

We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Bringing  down, Gordhan
We are  bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Well, Floyd walked up and he shook my hand
Said "I want you to be an Effer man"
Right away I made a snap decision
Me stomach was a growling for this dispensation  
I started over to get some food
When some Effers approached me in a hyped up mood
They shouted out a song 'bout four, five times
The lyrics was weird but I liked the rhymes

Singing I've got a gun in my hand
I'm going to use it well
Brr, brr, pa. pa, pa, pa
I've got a gun in my hand (Viva!)                                 I'm going to use it well

I was hoarse in me throat and I was feeling cold        But the sight of the food made me take a hold            The brothers started to dance away                              They said, "Sing, believers, dance all day"                          I sang and I danced in a new-found style                          In the meantime me taste buds was running wild            I was about to jump clear out of me seat                  When a man sprang up and said "Before you eat

You got to praise the CIC
You got to praise the CIC
And if you want a piece of heaven in this land
You got to praise the CIC

Praise the CIC
You got to praise the CIC
And if you want a piece of heaven in this land
You got to praise the CIC

Praise the CIC
You got to praise the CIC
And if you want a piece of heaven in this land
You got to praise the CIC

Well, before I joined up I had plenty pain
Now I find myself a bold man again
Well, before I joined up I had plenty pain
Now I find myself a bold man again
Don't talk 'bout the leaders, they treat me good
Plenty good marching and some good food
My brother, it was then that I realized
Every man on earth should be efferized

'Cause happy days are here again
There will be land and jobs again
Oh, let us sing our song of war again

Because we are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
We are bringing down, Gordhan
Let's walk the revolution'ry road

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

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O Tichmann 

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The CIC Show

 Dear Mr Malema

Thanks for the grub and the entertainment.

I really don't want to sound ungrateful or ungracious but the beef was a little tough. I noticed that that happens when the animal has been stabbed several times by an unskilled person. Do you think......? 

They should have let you have at it, sir. Can't go wrong with a 'walking, killing machine' revolutionary. 

Then there was the music. That old  song about hunting boars has really become quite boring (no pun intended). And those farting sounds that you make during the song they just don't make for good lyrics (Brr, brr, pap, pap...). 

Of course, that elevation trick was quite neat. You reminded me of some little Austrian bloke.  Can't remember the name. Had a similar style of rant...., pardon, oratory to yours. Then he had this trick of jerking his right arm up as if he had Tourette's syndrome. That might be a nice little touch for you too. Just ignore the fact that he might have had white tendencies. Good shtick is good shtick.

Other performers around the world are working on new stuff  - economy, upliftment, peace -  that sort of thing. Maybe it's time to move on from old boar hunting songs. A bit medieval, don't you think?  You don't want to wind up like one of those fallen stars, plucking strings outside the railway station for a few coins in the hat. The world's moved on.

Some people are quite excited that you filled the stadium. When I was a kid, living in a rural community,  a circus  came to the nearest village. You should have seen how packed the place was. People came from miles around, from farms, from villages, from towns. But that was because we didn't know any better. It was a really crappy circus. They conned us, having the same guy performing various acts, disguised each time as someone else. He was supposed to have been from Brazil, Russia, Egypt and other exotic places. We were thoroughly conned until someone dropped a hammer on his toe and he swore in fluent isiZulu. With a local accent as well. There's a teeny similarity  to your own show. From 'kill for Zuma' to 'die for Zuma' then 'kill Zuma' then sip tea with Zuma. Thuli is good, then Thuli is bad. This one is a good guy one day then he's a rotter the next.   So many wardrobe changes, sir.  I hope someone doesn't drop a hammer on your toe one day. The we might then find out who you really are. 

Your chops and changes always remind me of 'four legs good, two legs better' from Animal Farm. I really think you should work on your act. 

Oh, just to finish the circus story: when people realised that they were being conned, the whole show actually perked up. The ringmaster and the multitasking performer were sent off into the night with a few klaps and kicks. The whole big top came down. Quite a satisfying end for us kids at the time. Goes to show, I suppose, that even the naive and the gullible you can con for only so long.

I know that you EFF chaps are tolerant, broadminded and democratic in outlook. You can take a little constructive crit..., I mean, comment (as long it's not from the DA or other 1652 settler types). Apart from those few flies in the otherwise fine ointment, it was a stirring show.

Yours in the scuffle.

Richard 

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O Tichmann 

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The Scuffle With Home Affairs Continues

I had three unsuccessful attempts to apply for a new ID card at a Durban Home Affairs office. Eight to nine hours in the cheery batho pele / people first environment can be draining. The jolly, communicative staff make the experience all the more memorable.

I again tried booking online, something I'd attempted before with as much success as an EFF by-election campaign.

 Several attempts yielded no fruit. I, of course,  knew that calling the helpline would be as useful as waiting for Eskom to get its act together. I tried nevertheless. And was duly rewarded with The Silence of Desolation. I then wrote to the given email address, not expecting much. To my surprise I received this answer 6 days later.

Good Day Sir/Madam
Thank you for writing into the Department of Home Affairs contact centre.
Please note we have included below the link to book an appointment at the office. Should the office that you want to visit not be on the list then you will have to do a walk-in at that office.
https://services.dha.gov.za/#/authenticate/identity
The site is working.
Kind Regards 

I imagine that the six days were spent analysing my letter, perhaps looking for the deep undercurrents, symbolism, imagery and so forth. Well, let me not be churlish. At least an answer did arrive this year and this month. Yes, the site does work, after a fashion. If you have the patience to repeat the steps up to six times, you will probably arrive at the Nirvana of being able to book a date. Now this is where the fun really starts.

I chose a period from July to the 21st of August. A noticed popped up with the joyous news that there were no slots available during this period. Why the 21st of August? Well, because one cannot proceed  beyond that fateful date on the booking system. Perhaps Home Affairs knows something. The return of the Lord, foretold by Mr Zuma? So there are no available slots until the 21st of August. And beyond that date none may venture. Joseph Heller, author of Catch-22 would have loved this.

Is there some elaborate joke that only I am unaware of? Is there a bunch of people sitting in a darkened room somewhere laughing their heads off.

 "Look, he's really tearing his hair out. Tee hee, hee."

 By the time I got to the 21 August Catch 2023,  I could no longer contain myself. The laughter was loud, hysterical, abandoned. I did not even hear the men in the white coats come in. They have kindly allowed me a respite from the starched white jacket so that I can write this.  Let this serve as a warning to any innocent who may think that dealing with Home Affairs is a straightforward, normal transaction. Be warned. There are two dozen of us here in the nice white rooms, still laughing our heads off.

Sorry, I have to go. Time for our pills.

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O Tichmann 

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Twitter Trash

 Dear Twitter Person

Your tweet below says much between the lines.

"White people are mad apparently they have reported @Julius_S_Malema to the SPCA for slaughtering a cow without covering the cow face without putting a cloth so it could remain calm 🤣🤣🤣"

Let's switch this around:

" Black people are...They.... "

Remind you of something? Yes, those mindless adherents of the brutish apartheid cult. My, you have learned well. 

If the clownish Twitter police actually used their brains and could read for understanding, they would be more concerned about this sort of ranting than about trigger words taken out of context.

Comments like these abound. They are boringly similar because they all come out of an empty space where clichès and slogans rattle around. And intelligent thought fears to tread. 

Racist generalizations are the first step. Anything can follow. All the way down to the "cockroach calling" of Hotel Rwanda. People who have nothing positive to offer their country tend to wallow in this murky stuff. Grow up, for Pete's sake. Or, at least, for your own sake.  Everything that follows your first four words might be logical and reasonable, for all I know. Those four words place you  in the deep cave of those who move in the darkness of unreasoning mental grunts, twitches and tics.

Inevitably, there was a rash of responses from other dwellers of darkness. 

Out of such intimacies between mindlesness and an uncritical acceptance of racist rubbish are born the ugly progeny of hatred and division. In this case, I would support abortion. In a struggling, divided South Africa, better such comments die stillborn.

Our country needs critical  thinkers. And doers. Parrots are a dime a dozen.

Yours in the struggle against mindlessness.

Richard

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Vote

Dear fellow South Africans. 

I have been thinking seriously about who to vote for in 2024. 

There is that party whose 'walking, killing machine' of a revolutionary leader struggled to kill a tethered cow. Of them the less said the better.

I want to correct the misconception that the ANC has been useless. Lest we forget here are some of the magnificent achievements of the liberation movement in recent times:

Who gave us the wonderful concept of smallanyana skeletons?  Sometimes in my dreams I see the little fellows doing a merry, Zuma - style jig in a cavernous cupboard.

 Medicine carried by head all the way from Russia - who else could have dreamt up such a brilliant concept? No freight cost, no problems with bureaucracy, no chance of those precious medicines being spoilt. 

Edison never made as dramatic a breakthrough as did our electricity minister. 'A reliable supply of electricity will ultimately lead to the end of load shedding'. Not a lightbulb moment but a lightning bolt moment.

 No other party, not even the imaginative EFF, could have unveiled the intuitively innovative idea of tackling those spirits from the Anglo-Boer war, that are the cause of all our problems. What  serendipity.

Kudos to the party that first gave fokol to the people of South Africa then went International, loading a Russian ship with the same precious product. Come 2024, I should think there will be lots of fokol on offer. Judging by their achievements and contributions, they've been stockpiling the stuff.

Mister Cele's crime-fighting formula will be discussed and debated at police conferences around the globe for years to come.  PG = CG squared, i.e. population growth equals crime growth multiplied. One can already see the benefits of this discovery in our grim battle against crime. 

And of course there's the fraud, corruption, conspiracy, violence and assassinations  that not even the best Netflix series could provide. 

Who would not vote for this party?

They have certainly liberated me from any and all Illusions that I may have had about liberation movements that become governments. I have also been liberated from any notions that I had that politicians could have motives nobler than greed and the acquisition of power and loot. 

Of course, with that sterling record, what

intelligent person would not want to vote for the heroes of the Movement?

An excerpt from an earlier post, 'Gone Too Far,  Too Far, sung to the tune of 'Que Sera, Sera'. (https://thescuffle.blogspot.com/2022/09/gone-too-far-too-far-tune-of-que-sera.html)

Now as the learned lawyer said,

Everything's effed up toe to the head. 

My buddies ask me: "Is there some hope?"

I tell them patiently:

Corruption trip B E.

We're  stuck with the ANC.

The future's catastrophe,

With the ANC. 

So bizarre, bizarre.

 Gone too far too far.

You've got to be asleep not to see the unique qualities of this unique political party.

Yours in the struggle for some real representation.

Richard 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

No Place Like Home Affairs

 Dear Home Affairs and ANC

I once described your service, (a misnomer, if ever I heard one), in terms associated with post-digestive waste.

I apologize. I did not do you justice. It's infinitely worse than that. When I think of the nine hours spent outside your model of 'batho pele / people first', many words come to mind -  words beginning with F, C, S...  Suffice it to say that it's a fudding disaster.  Incidentally, I did not get to see the inside of the bustling beehive of excellent activity. Not this day.

Your staff are the frothy cream on top of the concoction that you serve up. A security gentleman warned us about the skelms promising to speed things up for a fee. So far so good. He explained that those who had booked would be attended to first. That is wonderful, except that it's impossible to book on a  system designed by Fred Flinstone - on a bad day. When this was pointed out, his helpful response was:

"Yes, sometimes there are system problems. Just keep trying".

Till the Good Lord returns (to quote a model of ANC leadership excellence)?

Someone asked if there was a queue for senior citizens. A 'yes' or 'no' would have sufficed. But our customer service hero was determined to go the extra 1.6 kilometres.

"This is not SARS", he pointed out helpfully. "Just follow the queue and imagine that you are at SARS." No irony detected here.

Don't we love Home Affairs humour?  I imagine that that gentlemen was the star student in your Customer Service Excellence training courses. 

The rest of his contribution  for the day was standing in a doorwaiy. Oh, and wisely not getting too involved when a fight almost broke out over queue jumping claims. 

As the long day declined towards closing time, the people next in line asked if they should leave, or stay on in the hope of  being attended to.

"The supervisor will decide", he replied.

The supervisor was still deciding as the desperate hopefuls watched the doors close in their faces. This poster boy for government service cannot answer the simplest of questions.

What purpose does such an employee serve? Apart from consuming oxygen that could have been put to much better use.

Gangrene has to be removed. Cancer, the same. You guys live with this mess day, month and year in and out. And you've never felt moved to do something significant about it? And you have managers and supervisors that you pay to manage and supervise?  The only news I've ever seen about enterprise and innovation at your department involves people selling documents at R50 000 a shot. 

A small point. When you have rats and cockroaches scurrying around a building, you can be reasonably sure that they're not there because of cleanliness and good housekeeping. You have vermin scurrying around, selling queue places. It's not a good environment. Not one you can be proud of.  Ah, but we dispensed with that stupid, colonialist notion of pride in work long ago, didn't we? 

Government departments around the world are renowned for indifference, maddening bureaucracy and piss-poor service . You have refined it to an ignoble art.  The torture is exquisite. It is like being caught in a cross between Monty Python and Catch 22.

People actually vote for this.

People truly believe that you can govern a country in the twenty-first century.

I have to repeat this: isn't it fascinating that the one department that works efficiently,  online and off,  is the money collector, SARS?  I wonder what that tells us.

Yours in the struggle.

Richard 

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723