Men are…many things. It’s easy to forget – given the rage directed toward males in recent weeks for the high occurrence of gender-based violence in South Africa – that men, generally, dislike men more than women do. I might add that men have resented men for longer, and with greater damage than women ever could.
This is rarely mentioned when gents circling the braai whisper ‘not all...’ Man, seeing a close female relation develop an intimate male bond brings at least some anxiety, because of the general consensus — also at the braai — that “Lol, n-words ain’t s*%#”.
It’s a common concern for men to be suspicious of the men who enter the lives of women they know. In fact, most women find ways to love and build community with men despite male efforts to the contrary. It is, of course, the brothers, uncles and fathers of the bride who remain on the watch, ready to step in should the groom “show his true colours”.
Men assume the worst of other men. But the suspicion shifts when this scrutiny comes rushing in from women. It’s a curious case.
According to a feature written by Melanie Hamlett in Harper’s Bazaar, American men don’t often cultivate close platonic relationships with their male friends. The persistent idea that feelings are a ‘female thing’ has left a generation of straight men stranded on an emotionally-stunted island, unable to forge intimate relationships with other men.
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This is also true in South Africa and women pay the price.
The assumption is that emotional intimacy or vulnerability is the reserve of sexual relationships, and male friendships revolve around sports, the news – all outside of our emotional worlds. Thus, the work of resolving the emotional baggage we carry rests on the women in our lives.
Heteronormative male behaviour is glorified when goal-orientated, undeterred by trivial emotion, in the company of other males. To show tenderness as a cishet male makes some feel assailable in a weirdly Darwinistic sense. Compassion and restraint are not central to interaction. And in a country as violent as South Africa, to be hardened and aloof is a defence mechanism incentivised by an underlying fear of humiliation or dispossession by other males.
So strong is the fear that we joke, and side-eye, about eating ice cream cones in public because of the ‘suggestiveness’. Suspicion comes because we undergo similar training. Given the suspicion directed at malehood, what do men think of themselves when they look in the mirror?
It’s quite telling that male suicide in Mzansi is up to four times higher than that of women. We lack compassion and patience even for ourselves. Most keep a small group of friends, rarely creating space until someone new has undergone a series of tests to prove their intentions.
The irony is that men are better trained at identifying red flags from other men than women. It is clear, given the high femicide and suicide rates, that men need to do inner work to heal as a group. If we don’t, we’ll continue to hurt others and ourselves.
For those certain this column aims to blame men for everything wrong in the world, allow me to reassure you. South African men won’t be the cause of humanity’s end. Late-stage capitalism will. In the meantime, could the ones we love live without the fear of femicide, while our ice cream cones melt sooner than we can fear licking them up?
Lesedi Molefi is an author, videographer and entrepreneur. His debut book, Patient 12A, was shortlisted for the 2019 City Press Tafelberg Nonfiction Award.
