Could FarmGate set Ramaphosa free?

Jeremy Gordin |

23 June 2022

Jeremy Gordin on the possible upside to Arthur Fraser’s public hit on the President

Can I view thee panting, lying
On thy stomach, without sighing!
Can I unmoved see thee dying
On a log,
Expiring frog!

      ‘Ode to an Expiring Frog,’ The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens, 1836.

Even if you’ve not done so yourself, surely you must have heard of a person who’s suddenly embarked on an extra-marital “affair”? [i]

And this person has done so, even though s/he’s apparently lived for decades as a charming member of the bourgeoisie [ii]; and has, moreover, been known by all during this time as someone who’s “happily married” [iii].

However, if one of the married persons is manacled, for whatever reason [iv], to his/her marital state, he or she finds him- or herself in an appalling bind. S/he doesn’t want the spouse to know; but nor does s/he want to give up the adventure.

Personally I know very little about such matters, but I’m told that being in such a bind leads to the most excruciating knots in the sufferer’s gut; and I’d be willing to bet that not less than 45 percent of the people “in” psychotherapy the world over are inter alia busy trying to find a way to untie those kinds of knots.


Nothing seems potentially worse to this sufferer – not even, say, the Russian invasion of Ukraine – than that his/her spouse might discover what is going on; s/he feels that, if the spouse found out, the heavens would collapse.

You know what then happens. Some virtue- or publicity-seeking dork or dorkette inevitably leaks the story[v].

But – and this is the important thing for our purposes – seven times out of 10, the horror of the revelation is accompanied simultaneously by a massive feeling of relief. At least, the truth is out! “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free” (John 8:32). The boil has been lanced! The lying is over! And the heavens do not fall.

Now then, I have been entertaining the above thoughts, not because I find these doings and wooings of the rich and famous or even the poor and obscure particularly fascinating (I’m far too old) – but because I have been cogitating, like every red-blooded Seffrican, about the president of the beloved country having allegedly stashed millions of US dollars in a couch in the lounge of his Limpopo dacha, Phala Phala.