Rural TN #2 A Mark

The ANC has governed South Africa since 1994. Shit now flows in our streets; we faced years of rolling blackouts, and taps now make children sick. In Bronkhorstspruit, east of Pretoria, more than 800 people have fallen ill since early October, most of them under four years old, from water sent out by the state's own treatment works, full of E. coli. Apparently, some official forgot to order chlorine. Somehow this party still expects to win the November 4 local elections, which tells you what state capture does to a voter base. Municipalities across Limpopo and the Eastern Cape now pipe sewage into the streets. ANC officials built the system this way, because a dependent electorate is a captive electorate. Central to this is cadre deployment, the practice of placing party loyalists inside every state institution regardless of competence. The result is predictable: Transnet collapsed, SAA burns through bailouts, and water treatment works poison the towns they serve. Potholes in our roads are often so large that entire cars fall into them. The state is a machine for moving wealth upward to politically connected insiders while public services rot. The latest Social Research Foundation poll puts the ANC at 32 percent nationally and 22 percent in Johannesburg, behind the DA in the city it ran for most of the past thirty years. Thirty years of dependency grants, captured media, and patronage networks still make rational exit costly for millions of South Africans. The question remains: How is it possible that people walking through their own shit to collect buckets of drinking water are still voting for this party of criminals? That 32% should be 0%.

Scottish gambler John Law was born in Edinburgh in 1671, the son of a goldsmith banker. His father died when he was a boy, and Law grew up to trade his inheritance for the card tables of London. In 1694, he killed a man named Edward Wilson in a duel, received a death sentence, and broke out of prison to flee to the Continent. He spent the next two decades gambling across Europe and studying banks. Scotland rejected his plan to fund the country with paper money. France said yes. Louis XIV died in 1715 and left the crown buried in debt, and in 1716 the Regent, Philippe d'Orléans, let Law open a bank that issued notes. Law then folded Louisiana trade, tax collection, and the royal mint into the Mississippi Company and sold shares on promises of colonial riches that nobody had found. To keep buyers coming, the bank printed notes. Shares climbed from about 500 livres in 1719 to about 10,000 by early 1720, and the word "millionaire" entered the language. Then the state enforced the fiction. After converting to Catholicism, Law became Controller General of Finances, banned most payments in gold and silver, and made it a crime to hold coin above a small sum. Citizens who wanted out of paper lost the right to leave. When holders rushed to cash in, the bank had printed far more notes than it held in coin. In May 1720, the government decreed a cut in the value of notes and shares, panic forced a reversal within a week, and crowds fought in the rue Quincampoix. Law lost his post that spring and fled France in December. He died broke in Venice in 1729. The recipe never changes: print to fund the favored project, lock the exits, and punish anyone who tries to leave with their savings.