"These people are carrying valuable things, US dollars, jewellery," says one of a pair of South African criminals, cradling a handgun as he assesses his prospects at the forthcoming World Cup. "For us it’s a very big opportunity."
The interview, screened on the eTV network a couple of weeks ago, sparked a national outcry. There were furious police accusations against the journalists responsible of "fraternising with criminals", and threats of charges if they refused to reveal their sources.
As journalists and media analysts raged at this apparent assault on freedom of the press, one came up with a succinct explanation: "2010 jitters".
"2010", in South Africa, is synonymous with the World Cup—an event that this country has been anticipating ever more eagerly since it won the right to host it six years ago. If the 1995 Rugby World Cup was an exhibition of racial reconciliation after apartheid, this year’s festival will give this G20 member a chance to put on a show that demonstrates its credentials as a leading emerging economy. Just look at how the Chinese basked in the PR triumph of the Beijing Olympics.
There’s an unmistakeable nervousness mixed in with the excitement, however; a defensiveness linked to the fear that, as Chief Rabbi Warren Goldstein put it recently, "Brand SA overseas is crime." However vocal South Africans might be about their own problems, and with an average of 50 murders a day, many seem desperately worried that foreign anxiety about crime could taint this year’s carnival atmosphere.
Both sets of fears came to the fore after the machine gun attack on the Togo football team at the African Cup of Nations in Angola. Hull City manager Phil Brown spoke for many ignorant foreigners when he claimed the atrocity "throws a question mark against next summer’s World Cup". Never mind that the attack was committed by separatist fighters whose quarrel seems exclusively with the Angolan government; that the country’s team did not qualify for the World Cup; that the two nations do not even share a border. The Dark Continent appears, to many outsiders, as a homogenous blob of violence, famine and despair, where such horror can occur anywhere, at any time.
Tournament chief organiser Danny Jordaan reacted seriously to the absurd leap of logic, scrambling to tell reporters that "if there is a war in Kosovo and a World Cup in Germany, no-one asks if the World Cup can go on." That he should have bothered to make such a point speaks volume; South Africa is keenly aware that Africa is not yet judged by the same standards as other continents, and that this World Cup will be judged differently too. The murder of a single fan this June—a random tragedy if it had happened in Germany or Japan —will surely be blown by international media into evidence that the event should never have been brought to a continent which has yet to get its act together.
It’s the terror of such a disaster that prompted the iron-fisted police response to eTV’s film. But the inverse of that scenario should also prove true. One regularly hears politicians going on record to say this will be "the best World Cup ever"—and why not? This is a culturally vibrant, overwhelmingly friendly, broadly football-mad country that has invested huge sums in world-class stadiums and accompanying infrastructure. Football is traditionally a black game here, but almost the entire nation is bursting with pride to be hosting this event—a stark contrast with the ambivalence that has greeted the forthcoming arrival of the Olympics in London. And police presence will be ramped up to such a degree that no fan who isn’t actively looking for trouble—of course, some will be—should have much to worry about.
Those hoping the World Cup will be a panacea for the ills of South Africa’s recent recession will be disappointed. The last tournament boosted Germany’s GDP by just 0.3 per cent, according to government figures—and that was with four times the number of visitors expected in South Africa. The arrival for a month of half a million free-spending foreigners will do little to change immediately the underlying mechanics of a country where unemployment is consistently around the 25 percent mark.
But the long-term impact—both for South Africa and for the continent as a whole—could be profound. How often do good news stories from Africa hit foreign front pages? Provided all goes smoothly, we could see the beginning of a real shift in the international perception of Africa. Blanket coverage for a month of a slick, well-managed global festival, suffused with the warmth of African hospitality, would go a long way to counter the trickle of images of hunger and war to which the West has grown accustomed.
Over the years, the whole continent could see a pay-off in increased investment and tourism. Just pray—along with all of South Africa—that isolated incidents of violent crime don’t give sensationalist foreign media a chance to kill the party.
A former deputy editor of The Journal, Simon Mundy is a reporter at the South African newspaper Business Day.