226. Beware the cell phone!

Nkola Motata, a judge of the Pretoria High Court (a trial court of general jurisdiction) had an accident while driving his Jaguar.  It happens.  The judge explained to the Sunday Times:

“I wasn’t drunk at all ... I had been with one of my colleagues earlier that night drinking tea,” he said.

He claimed he had accidentally reversed into the wall after narrowly avoiding a reckless and speeding car.

“I reversed a little further and I knocked into someone’s wall ... I just dented the wall because I sustained a scratch on the bumper and my tail-light is a bit damaged,” said Judge Motata.

He claimed to have been calm and patient throughout the incident but admitted asking “ him [the owner of the property] to settle this matter without the police ”.

Unfortunately for the judge, the crash drew a crowd.  And members of the crowd had cell phones.  And cell phones aren't just for yakking any more.  (I know I'm dating myself, but I can remember a day when telephones didn't have bass control.)  The Jo'burg burghers took pictures of the glassy-eyed judge sitting in the driver's seat of his Jaguar, which had just gone right through a cinder-block wall.

And they recorded the judge's calm and patient exchange with the property owner.  (The recordings are difficult to understand if you're not familiar with the South African dialect / accent, but the Times thoughtfully transcribed them.  The ellipses are all in the original; the triple asterisks show where I've made a jump.)

Driver: I know the law. Let me go to the law. I don’t care about it. Ja, you mustn’t look at me as a black man. Let me go before the law…Fuck him. Fuck him. He mustn’t insult me. Fuck him. Anybody who insults me, I say fuck you.

Homeowner: Who’s insulting you?

Driver: If you insult me…

Homeowner: Who’s insulting you?

Driver: Listen…

Homeowner: But you have to answer. You’re making an accusation…

Driver: Hey! I say listen…

Homeowner: You have to answer the question if you’re making an accusation…

Driver: Ah, fuck you! Please.

Homeowner: You being disrespectful to me.

Driver: Ah, I don’t care about you.

Homeowner: I’m the owner of the house. I’ve come here to see what damage you’ve done.

Driver: Ja. F off…Any damage to your house, don’t insult me.  ***

Homeowner: It is my opinion that you are drunk, yes, because you smell of alcohol, you’ve driven through my wall…

Driver: You talk rubbish!

Homeowner:…You don’t walk straight…

Driver: Don’t talk rubbish!

Homeowner: I’m not talking rubbish.

Driver: I’m telling you now you’re  talking rubbish

Homeowner: One, two, three, four, five…

Driver: I don’t care about your workers…(indistinct)

Homeowner: …Six, seven. There’s eight people here

Driver: I say, don’t talk rubbish.

Homeowner: I don’t have any workers here…(Indistinct as driver shouts him down)

Driver: ...Fuck you...I say fuck you

Homeowner: [My tenant] is a senior manager at one of the banks.

Driver: I don’t care about your senior management. He doesn’t work for me.

Homeowner: He’s my tenant, he's not my worker. He’s a senior manager at one of the banks.

Driver: Oh, get to hell. Get to hell.

Homeowner: Don’t fall over! Whoa! Careful! Don’t fall over! He can’t even stand straight.

Driver: (Indistinct)…senior management at the bank.

Homeowner: But the difference is that he is a senior manager, he’s not a worker. He’s not a worker, don’t insult him.

Driver: But I’m talking to you, not to anybody else. I’m talking to you. You get to hell!

Homeowner: I’m a hard worker…yes, you’re right.

Driver: I’m happy for you. You are doing well for yourself. That senior messenger, you are talking rubbish about him.

Well, okay, it was pretty strong tea. 

Once the recordings became available on the web, the judge changed his tune, and the most recent news is that he's taking a 6-week leave of absence.  No word yet if he's checking into rehab or taking anger management classes like  others brought low by cell phones.

It must be said that by the sixth of the cell phone recordings, the judge had calmed down (but note how he maintained his lawyerly refusal to commit to a definite position on the key issue):

Driver: I say, this guy , there’s no way that I can come in and not knock this wall. I’m wrong. I knocked his wall. I’m wrong. I have got to pay. Not that I’m either drunk or sober. Hey, this is his wall and I’ve got to pay. Sir, do you understand me. I’ve knocked your wall whether I’m drunk or not…

Homeowner: But you have also breached the security that we provide…

Driver: I say, security or whatever. I have knocked your wall. I’ve got to pay.

Homeowner: Ja

Driver: Ja, I’ve got to pay, whether I’m drunk or not, I’ve got to pay. It is not a  question of I’m drunk or sober. I’ve got to pay.

Homeowner: That is not for me to decide…

Driver: No, no I’m telling you. I’m saying I’ve got to pay for whatever I’ve done which is wrong. I don’t want to fight with this man. I don’t. I don’t

Homeowner: Well that is a change in your attitude from earlier on.

Driver: No, no. I’m not changing. I say if I get into your wall, in your wall, whether I’m drunk or sober, one thing that remains: I’ve got to pay. Now I say to you, I give you my particulars, I’ve got to pay, Honestly, I want to give you my particulars and I want to pay for the damage I’ve done to you.

Maybe he should have started on that note.  (Although as of January 9, three days after the wall came down, its owner was complaining he hadn't been reimbursed yet.)   An interesting piece republished in the Independent Online calls the incident a triumph of citizen-journalism.  That's one way of looking at it.

But another article available on the same source (headlined "Do You Know Who I Am?") compares the incident to other examples of South African officialdom acting badly when cell phones were not, alas, readily available - a reminder how easily, and how often, words backed by power can make reality appear no more substantial than themselves.