Reflections from South Africa

November 12, 2002

Cape Town from the sea is one of the most impressive sights anyone can imagine. We arrived at sunrise, with the morning light sparkling over the new, modern waterfront mall area, one of the most magnificent, waterfronts in the world. Behind the city loomed Table Mountain with its neighboring peaks set back from the shoreline. Beyond the city, in either direction along the coast, are more mountains and gorgeous beaches that, after an extremely enjoyable and memorable less than a day-long drive along its scenic roads, including a drive out to the Cape of Good Hope, reminded me of parts of Maine, Cape Breton, California, Norway, and more, all in one intriguing, inviting brief stretch of land.

Yet Cape Town is also home to Crossroads, Langa, Guguletu, and other Townships where hundreds of thousands of Black Africans have been forced to relocate. Most Townships are large communities made up of shacks thrown together with corrugated steel and scrap wood. These shantytowns have dotted the Cape Town area since the Native Reserve Locations Act of 1902 initiated forced removals. With a history that clearly parallels, and in some cases mimics, the U.S., South Africa, however, went from slavery to segregation and then, with the Population Registration Act in 1950, to apartheid, an official government program requiring registration by ‘racial’ groups: ‘whites,’ ‘coloureds’ (or those of mixed backgrounds), ‘Asians,’ and ‘Natives’ (or blacks). This program was further enforced by ‘race inspectors’ to decide difficult cases, the carrying of racial classification identity cards, other laws supporting complete segregation, and more forced removals of blacks and coloureds from Cape Town. For nearly fifty years, this apartheid dream was carried out not only through forced removals but, in the cases of Tramway Road and District Six, the demolition of entire neighborhoods by bulldozers, which has been referred to as “Cape Town’s Hiroshima” by novelist Richard Rive. Today, eight years after apartheid was finally made illegal, it is quite evident that the effects of apartheid are still very much present in South Africa. As one resident of Langa said, ‘Township is not a fit name for the place. It is a compound… the buildings are like graves.’

I find myself, on this global voyage of discovery, becoming more and more intrigued by the whole process of how diversity issues are played out in each culture. Arriving at Cape Town at this point in its history, and at this point in my own life, is a very fascinating and enlightening experience.

My visit to the District Six Museum was reminiscent of the Hiroshima Peace Memorial, and the Holocaust Museum, in that its exhibits carried an equally powerful and vital message of oppression, violence, and hatred, as well as placing great importance on remembering and telling the stories of the people impacted. I was very pleased to learn here about the Centre for Popular Memory, at the University of Cape Town, which has done great work in recording, preserving, and disseminating the oral testimonies and life stories of people who experienced forced removals, as well as in training others in interviewing and archival skills. One of the important implications of this museum, which offers a very clear reminder that forced removals must never happen again, as well as a place for the community to come together and share their experiences and memories, along with the public tours to the Townships, is that in a way somewhat unique, South Africa has acknowledged and gone public with the reality of its own racism.

At Crossroads Township, well known during the worst of the apartheid years for its violent struggles, we met and interacted with some of the residents, whose current views and perspectives are quite varied. Most are still frustrated with the slow pace of change and the lack of employment opportunities. A few even identify with bin Laden, as a hero of oppressed peoples. Most do, however, carry a hope that local work projects will come along and help educate them for lasting jobs, and that the 25 year plan to replace all of the shantytowns with houses will come to pass well before the end of the plan. South Africa clearly has a long way to go to catch up with and be a partner in globalization.

We had a wonderful dinner in Crossroads at Masande Xhosa Restaurant, which means “Let us Prosper,” and is run by the people of community to offer not only traditional Xhosa food, but also their music, beadwork, pottery, and woodcarvings to the public. I mentioned to the proprietor on the way out how much I enjoyed the meal and the warm hospitality, and that this seems quite different than it was in the 60s, or even the early 90s. She thanked me for coming and said, “This would have never happened then.”

There are two things that really strike me about diversity in South Africa, and they are at opposite ends of a spectrum. First, is how apartheid could have even existed at all until almost the end of the 20th century, in any country! This has meant that blacks and mixed groups are so much further behind in South Africa in terms of housing, justice, and equality, and in just beginning their life of freedom and liberation.

The second thing is how relatively smoothly the transition from apartheid, since 1994, has gone. Many predicted violence, even a civil war. It hasn’t been an easy transition, by any means, but what is most remarkable about the transition from apartheid to the African National Congress-led democratic government in 1994 is the role of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, chaired by Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Rather than instituting tribunals to identify and persecute those who perpetrated horrendous human rights abuses, the TRC sought confession and forgiveness. As Desmond Tutu put it, “True reconciliation is based on forgiveness, and forgiveness is based on true confession, and confession is based on penitence, on contrition, on sorrow for what you have done… confession, forgiveness, and reconciliation in the lives of nations are not just airy-fairy religious and spiritual things, nebulous and unrealistic. They are the stuff of practical politics.” Wouldn’t it be great if the TRC could become a model of resolving ethnic-based conflicts in other parts of the world?

It was therefore very fitting and appropriate that our visit to Cape Town began the morning of our arrival with Desmond Tutu, a member of the Board of Trustees of Semester at Sea’s sponsoring institution, coming aboard the ship to address the students. His message to the students was a powerful, inspiring call to action. Referring to the story of the farmer who made the land even more productive and beautiful than God had made it, he gently but firmly encouraged the students to strive to make such a difference in the world. He said, “The individual is the indisputable agent of change. You should not be daunted by the magnitude of the task before you… stand up for human rights where these are being violated; stand up for justice, freedom, and love where they are trampled underfoot by injustice, oppression, hatred and harsh cruelty; stand up for human dignity and decency at a time when these are in desperately short supply.” It was with this sentiment that the students left for their visits to the Townships, and this is the message that will stay with me well beyond my brief time in Cape Town.

I feel it is also fitting to close my reflections on South Africa with more of the wisdom of Desmond Tutu:

“The first law of our being is that we are set in a deliberate network of interdependence with our fellow human beings and with the rest of God’s creation. We are meant to live as sisters and brothers, as members of one family, the human family…”

“In Africa we have something called ubuntu in Nguni language, or botho in Sotho, which is difficult to translate into English. It is the essence of being human. It speaks of the fact that my humanity is caught up and is inextricably bound up in yours. I am human because I belong. It speaks about wholeness, it speaks about compassion…”

“What does the colour of one’s skin tell us that is of any significance about a person? Nothing, of course, absolutely nothing. It does not say whether the person is warm-hearted or kind, clever and witty, or whether that person is good.”