COMMENT
I recalled a profound axiom this past week while contemplating the recent spate of brutal murders in Ekurhuleni, the reaction of South Africans, my place in the conversation, and the need for more men to acknowledge their role — either passive or active — in perpetuating Gender-based violence (GBV) in our nation.
“I know a profound pattern humans deny with words even while their actions affirm it,” the wisdom goes.
“They say they seek security and quiet, conditions they call peace. Even as they speak they create seeds of turmoil and violence.”
Far too many men in this country refuse to answer for themselves or their peers. When confronted with the reality of GBV, they mistake broad structural critiques for personal insults. They respond with defensive anger, completely blind to a fundamental truth: this scourge will only be stamped out when men accept that silence and passivity are forms of complicity, and join in collective condemnation.
It is why the statement of Springbok captain Siya Kolisi this past week are so critical to this moment.
In a raw plea to his fellow countrymen, Kolisi did not mince words: “To the men of our country, we need to acknowledge and accept that we are the problem here and we need help — and we need help urgently. Without us getting help, this is going to keep on continuing.”
Kolisi is spot on. We, as men, must be honest about our roles in perpetuating a culture of violence that threatens to destroy the very social contract between us and the women in our lives. But that honesty requires immense bravery.
I know, as a young man, there were times when my own rage and the threat of my anger boiling over left those dearest to me — my mother and my sisters — afraid of me. I know there have been times where I have frightened my wife. There are moments of aggression that I deeply regret, and which I have sought to rectify by becoming a better person, a better man, for those I love and cherish.
I know there have been times when, through my words and posture, I used the threat of strength to intimidate other men, just as I have felt that same menacing aura directed at me by others.
As Kolisi said, “We are the problem.”
And so I must agree: I, you, we are the problem.
True leadership on this crisis requires men to abandon two deeply comfortable lies: first, that violence is committed only by monsters in the dark; second, that being a "good guy" who doesn't physically strike a woman absolves us of responsibility.
The path to physical violence is paved by a thousand subtle permissions: the silence when a friend crosses a line, the laughter at a degrading joke, the refusal to call out emotional abuse, and the normalisation of male entitlement. In this we all carry a degree of guilt.
When we stay quiet in those moments to keep the peace among men, we plant the very seeds the truth above warned about.
If we are to honour the brave precedent set by voices like Kolisi’s, South African men must dismantle the culture of protection that shields abusers. It means having awkward, uncomfortable conversations at the pub, in the locker rooms, and around the braai.
It means accepting that our daughters, mothers, and sisters do not need our empty sympathy or protective paternalism; they need us to hold ourselves and our brothers accountable.
I know for a fact that Kolisi is not the only voice in this fight. Proteas captain Temba Bavuma quietly goes about supporting a shelter for at-risk women and girls in Yeoville. Cricket South Africa has a ‘Black Day’ where it attempts to raise awareness.
Makazola Mapimpi and Beast Mtawarira have also spoken out against GBV. But the truth is, more voices are needed, more actions are required, more honesty needed and confessions made public so that a healthy discourse can form around our men and our boys to educate and ensure accountability.
This is not about race, economics, or politics, and we must stop being beholden to faux culture wars perpetrated by populist politicians, influencers, and voices that seek only to divide us from reality with virtue signalling and blame-shifting.
Real peace will not be delivered by political speeches, corporate campaigns, or temporary outrage on social media. It will only begin when men choose the discomfort of accountability over the safety of silence.
We cannot keep claiming we want a peaceful nation while actively or passively sowing the seeds of its destruction. The work starts in the mirror, continues with our brothers, and must not stop until every woman in this country can live without fear.
* Morgan Bolton is the Sports Editor for The National.