Apartheid is dead! Hail the spirit of Anton Rupert!
A great South African, Dr Anthony (Anton) Edward Rupert, passed away at his home in Stellenbosch on 18 January aged 89, less than three months after his beloved wife, Huberte, died on 28 October 2005.
Most unfortunately, it was not possible for me or the Deputy President of the Republic, Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka, to attend the memorial service at the NG Moederkerk in Stellenbosch on 25 January to pay tribute to “‘n Man van waarde” – a man of worth!
This was because the 3-day January Cabinet Lekgotla began on the same day, which was also the day we returned from the Khartoum African Union Summit Meeting. The Cabinet agreed that we should release our Minister of Finance, Trevor Manuel, to attend the memorial service to represent our government.
Minister Manuel is one of the four Cabinet Ministers sworn in by the Chief Justice to serve as Acting President when both the President and the Deputy President are not in the country.
But it has seemed right that in addition to the statement we issued on the death of Anton Rupert, the tribute paid to him by our Cabinet during its meeting on 25 January, and the presence of Minister Manuel at the NG Moederkerk, we should still say yet another word of farewell to a great South African who has departed the world of the living.
Quite correctly, much has been said and written about Anton Rupert as an outstanding businessman and his achievements as what Nelson Mandela described as “a social thinker who gave generously without being patronising”.
We must thank all those who went to Stellenbosch on 25 January to convey the nation’s last farewell to Anton Rupert, who included a truly broad spectrum of our national and regional leadership. We must also thank the domestic and the international press which made it a point to pay tribute to an outstanding son of our people.
We must also convey our thanks to Anton and Huberte Rupert’s son and daughter, Johann and Hanneli, Anton’s brother John, the grandchildren, and the son and daughter-in-law, for the opportunity they gave all our people to bid farewell to their brother, father and grandfather in a fitting and dignified manner. We also thank Dr James Gray of the United Church for the message he communicated to the country, that properly to remember the deceased, we must celebrate his belief in righteousness and justice.
As I reflected on the life of Anton Rupert, I could not but remark the fact that my own mother, Piny Mbeki, and Anton Rupert were born in the same year, 1916. He was eight months younger than my mother, she having been born in February, and he in October.
But as our national history necessarily decreed, their life experiences were radically different. And yet, at Anton Rupert’s passing, I would not hesitate to conclude that these children of the Cape and 1916 had come to stand side by side as worthy representatives of the values of righteousness and justice of which Dr James Gray spoke at the NG Moederkerk in Stellenbosch.
For many decades now, since my late teens, I have associated the year 1916 with an event of great pathos and heroism that took place far away from our shores. This was the 1916 Easter Monday Uprising in Ireland, when the Irish Republican movement launched an armed insurrection to free Ireland from English colonial rule.
The uprising was defeated. Determined to crush the Irish national liberation movement for all time, the English imperial power executed the leaders of the Easter Uprising, carrying out an act of repression without mercy, which we later feared the apartheid regime would follow by hanging the Rivonia trialists many decades later, in 1964.
In his famous poem, “Easter 1916”, the outstanding Irish poet and patriot, WB Yeats, celebrated the heroes of the Easter Uprising executed by the English saying, in part:
Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is Heaven's part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse -
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
When the South African (Anglo-Boer) War broke out in 1899, the (John) MacBride mentioned by Yeats lived in South Africa. By the time he came to our country, he was already a member and leader of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB), the parent of what later became Sinn Fein and the Irish Republican Army (IRA).
Because of its own struggle against British imperialism, for the liberation of the Irish and all colonised nations, the IRB actively supported the struggle of the Boers against the British during the South African (Anglo-Boer) War. John MacBride therefore joined a volunteer Irish Brigade that fought on the side of the Boers, earning the rank of a major. He returned to Europe, settling in France, after the victory of the British forces.
But he was in Dublin when the Easter Monday Uprising began, and joined it and served as one of its military leaders, even though apparently he was not involved in its planning. Captured and tried with the leaders of the Uprising, such as Connolly, Pearse and MacDonagh, MacBride was executed by firing squad in Kilmainham Jail on 5 May 1916.
The poet, WB Yeats, understood that by their martyrdom these heroes had come to represent the most deep-seated hopes of the Irish people for freedom. Their sacrifice made them heroes to all patriotic Irish men and women – wherever green (the national colour) is worn. Their sacrifice gave a painful beauty to the additional sacrifices the Irish people would have to make to achieve their emancipation.
Even if they did not express this in the same words, the Boers on the Eastern Cape “frontier” would have been inspired by the same sentiment when, on 9 March 1816, virtually exactly 100 years before the Irish Easter Monday Uprising, five ill-fated Boer rebels against British rule in the Cape Colony were hanged in the most cruel circumstances at Slagter’s Nek in the Graaff-Reinet district.
And yet the vagaries of history created a striking irony. The progeny of the IRB Boer supporters ended up as militant supporters of the ANC fighters against apartheid rule. These were fighters against those who saw themselves as the representatives of the Boer struggle against British imperialism, whom the IRB had supported as comrades in a common cause. Thus the Irish descendants of John MacBride turned into opponents of the Boer descendants of John MacBride’s former comrades-in-arms.
In a way, these changing alliances also found expression in the evolution of Anton Rupert, such that, today, we can pay tribute to him as a great South African. He could have ended his life as a great Afrikaner. His antecedents, his upbringing and his early life would have suggested to the Afrikaners in whose midst he grew up that he would indeed end up as a hero among the Afrikaners, but only the Afrikaners.
The 2005 Tafelberg biography, “Anton Rupert”, written by Ebbe Dommisse in cooperation with Willie Esterhuyse, contains a wealth of information about the life and times of the late Dr Rupert. It has taught me much about Anton Rupert. Looking at his evolution from his birth in Graaff-Reinet in the Karoo, through his school years in a Volkskool in the town, to his time at the Afrikaans University of Pretoria, there was nothing to suggest that Anton Rupert could be any different from the Afrikaner establishment that went about establishing the apartheid system after 1948.
His life and times were defined by the many things and events that we have come to believe helped to form the Afrikaner nationalist of the 20th century. The very history of Graaff-Reinet, which rebelled against the Dutch East India Company in 1795 to establish the “first Boer Republic”, provided the right setting for Anton Rupert’s evolution into the kind of Afrikaner nationalist we came to know during the apartheid years.
A mere reading of the roll-call of the Afrikaners with whom he interacted during his life’s journey would show how much he was firmly embedded within the Afrikaner society that saw the 1948 electoral victory of the National Party as a dream fulfilled.
These include his schoolmate Robey Leibbrandt, another schoolmate, Beyers Naude, whose father lived in Graaff-Reinet, was a friend of Anton’s father, and was a co-founder and first President of the Afrikaner Broederbond, General JBM Hertzog, the poet and playwright, Dirk Opperman, Hendrik Verwoerd, Nico Diedericks, Piet Meiring, Paul Sauer, and many others.
His parents, members and local leaders of Hertzog’s National Party, insisted that he must be educated in the local Volkskool, consistent with their determination to secure the advancement of Afrikaans and the Afrikaners. He went to the University of Pretoria for the same reason.
He served in the leadership of the Afrikaans-Nasionale Studentebond, the Afrikaans National Students’ Association, the predecessor to the better known Afrikaanse Studentebond, was, for some time, a member of the Broederbond, played a prominent role in helping to organise the 1938 commemoration of the centenary of the Great Trek, and went into business with the express purpose to advance the economic interests of the Afrikaner people.
Ebbe Dommisse and Willie Esterhuyse say that only once did Anton Rupert decide to stay away from work for a whole day. This was when he heard the news of the destruction of Hiroshima in Japan by the atomic bomb dropped over the city by the United States on 6 August 1945.
Staying at home to reflect on the tragedy that had just occurred, Anton Rupert said; “I realised that the human race had become like scorpions in a bottle, with the power to destroy one another totally.”
Later Anton Rupert said: “Since the unlocking of the power of the atom – since Hiroshima – everything has changed, except our way of thinking. In this atomic era there is no longer any country remote enough to become a place of shelter. The biblical notion that ‘I am my bother’s keeper’ has become a cold reality; depressions are now global, as is welfare. In this century where at least two nations possess enough bombs to destroy everything, we live like scorpions in a bottle – and he who wants to retain all, will lose all.”
Proceeding from this understanding, Anton Rupert began to search for a response to this challenge, and came upon the idea of “partnership” among the peoples, both in our country and globally.
Speaking at the Second National (Afrikaner) Economic Congress in Bloemfontein in 1950 on “The Afrikaner in Industry”, he “advocated partnership as a business philosophy, a partnership that had to be extended to the black population as well”.
In this regard, he proposed that Afrikaner business should contribute start-up capital amounting to £5,000, to establish a “Bantu Development Corporation”, which would facilitate the establishment of “modest local industries in black territories as proof of our bona fides and sincere intentions”.
In the end, Anton Rupert’s ideas about “partnership” foundered in the face of militant opposition by the then ruling National Party, which was determined to implement its apartheid policy of “separate development”, rather than “partnership”. This included a number of acrimonious and fruitless meetings between Anton Rupert and HF Verwoerd, who had first met in 1937 when the latter, as editor of ‘Die Transvaler’, had offered Anton Rupert a job on the editorial staff of the newspaper, which Anton Rupert declined.
As was inevitable, the struggle against apartheid continued to advance. To those who had eyes to see, and ears to hear, such as Anton Rupert, it increasingly became clear that, “he who wants to retain all, will lose all”.
In an interview with the American, Allen Drury, in 1966, Anton Rupert said: “White and Black, we are each other’s shadows, particularly here in South Africa where we share the land together: if the African doesn’t eat, we don’t sleep, and vice versa; even if we are ‘apart’, if he doesn’t succeed, we don’t succeed, and if we don’t succeed, he won’t.”
Twenty-one years later, in 1987, Anton Rupert addressed the Federasie van Afrikaanse Kultuurvereniginge (FAK), the Federation of Afrikaans Cultural Societies, and spoke on “Moedertaal en vaderland” (Mother tongue and fatherland). In a remarkable statement, speaking as the personification of Afrikaans, he said:
“I was the language of those who had been ‘wronged’, of those who were to call themselves Afrikaners – the carriers of Afrikaans – but also of the coloured people who nurtured me in the kitchens and of the christianised black people who are not recognised as Afrikaners. And then someone came, perhaps with good intentions, yet thoughtlessly, and created the word ‘apartheid’ in me, a word that was to become ‘apart hate’ to the whole world – the only word in me that people know worldwide.
“And thereby I have come to be regarded as the language of the oppressor. Non-white people who use me as their home language have never been prohibited from worshipping in churches of other languages. But there are churches that use me as their language of worship that show the door to fellow Afrikaans speakers, even those who share the same faith...
“There is...(a) landmark for those who loved me and perhaps now hate me. It is a landmark of desolation – a part that was ripped out of the heart of old Cape Town. District Six – a landmark of the removal of many who had loved me. Today only minarets remain as evidence of the earlier presence of those who had used me as language in their worship...
“And those who ostensibly love and cherish me forgot the lesson (of enforced use of English by Lord Somerset, to the exclusion of Afrikaans), and impeded my growth by attempting to impose me on others, as in the schools in Soweto in 1976.”
By 1987, and before, Anton Rupert had crossed his Rubicon, which PW Botha had failed to do in 1985, despite the promise that he would.
Two years before he addressed the FAK, in a speech to the Institute of Marketing and Management on 29 September 1985, he said: “Do not embalm the corpse of apartheid, bury it. If you need to jump from cliff to cliff over an abyss, you can’t do it step by step.” Later, quoting the Swiss theologian, Huldrych Zwingli, he made the heartfelt plea – “For God’s sake, do something brave!”
Born to sparkle as an Afrikaner nationalist, serving an exclusive cause, Anton Rupert was sufficiently inspired by the spirit of righteousness and justice, which is an inherent part of the making of the Afrikaners, to end his life as a celebrated South African and African patriot, a prophet of an inclusive future for the children of our country and continent.
As we bid farewell to Anton Rupert, I trust that all of us, black and white, will find it within our capabilities to translate his prophecy into the lived and living experience of all the children of Africa.
To Anton, Huberte and Antonij Rupert we say rest in peace, knowing that you did not disappoint the expectations of John MacBride’s Irish Brigade. Our people are blessed that too long a sacrifice did not make a stone of your hearts. The united but diverse South African nation you left behind will use its painful past “as a springboard to (a) future (of true partnership).”

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