THE 1990s
Chapter 19
Home at last
We had a poster on our wall in Manchester with the slogan "Freedom in our Lifetime", but deep down I expected the struggle to take longer. Joyce and I never discussed what we would do if I were free to go home, and we were unprepared when it all began to happen in 1990.
When Nelson Mandela was released after 27 years in prison, and the ANC, SACP and other organisations were unbanned, my first thoughts were that I would soon be able to see my family and friends. I also had the duty of working on the future of SACTU people, and for both reasons I hurried down to Lusaka at once.
It turned out that things would not be as easy as all that. There were delays before other political prisoners were released, and minor officials did not seem convinced that change was really taking place. Some people who attempted to go home were refused admission. I was one of them. On my first attempt I got no further than Jan Smuts Airport now Johannesburg International - before being returned to Zambia.
While waiting for clearance to go home I contacted Christmas Tinto, an old Cape Town comrade whom I had recruited into the ANC in the 1950s. He was then president of the United Democratic Front in the Western Cape. Apart from catching up with news from him, I wanted to discuss preparations for people who would soon be coming home. He agreed to travel to Lusaka to meet me, and we talked the whole weekend.
I took him to see Reggie September, and we found Trevor Manuel in Reggie's flat. Christmas and Trevor worked together in Cape Town, but neither knew the other was going to Zambia. I found that funny.
I also met some women who had travelled from Cape Town for an ANC Women's Conference. Among them were Hilda Ndude, later a provincial MP, Nomaindia Mfeketo, later chair of the Cape Metropolitan Transitional Council, and Dorothy Zihlangu, chair of the United Women's Congress. I was very impressed with some of these women, who seemed of better quality than most of the men going to Lusaka at that time.
The most exciting event of all was when Nelson Mandela spoke at a giant meeting at Lusaka Airport. He talked for two hours without notes and made a huge impression on the heads of states and ambassadors who were there to hear him, as well as on ordinary people. There had never been anything like it in Lusaka.
Although I did not have a chance to speak to Mandela on this occasion, it was great for me to see him again. My respect for him went back to when I had first met him, and had been reinforced during the Treason Trial, when many of us who were younger spent months close to Mandela and other national executive leaders and learned so much from them. His steadfastness throughout imprisonment and his amazing skills in the new situation after his release had deepened my respect even further.
I have another personal bond with Nelson Mandela. When he was in prison I was one of the people who received a letter from him, urging me to take up the flag of the freedom struggle, and this I have tried to do. just think how difficult and risky it must have been for him to write such a letter and smuggle it out of prison. Of course it had to be destroyed for security reasons, but how I wish I still had it.
My second attempt to enter South Africa was successful, although it seemed touch and go when the immigration officer called up on his screen the information that I had skipped bail in 1963. He had to consult one of his seniors, who just shook his head and waved me through. It was a very brief visit, to try to unblock the bottleneck preventing SACTU people returning to jobs waiting for them in the unions, and I was soon back in Lusaka.
When the SACTU people had all got clearance and left for home, I was able to go for the third time. This time there were no problems. I went straight through to the leadership of SARHWU, who were waiting to welcome me. I had been involved with this union and its leaders more than any other. I knew the general secretary, Martin Sebakwane, from the days when he was studying for a degree in England. I was the one who developed his interest in union work.
They took me straight to the SARHWU office for briefing about general matters and their forthcoming conference. I stayed in Johannesburg for a few days for further discussions, lodging with Vanguard Mkosana, a former SACTU executive colleague who had been at headquarters in Zambia. I then proceeded to Cape Town.
Once there, I felt I had really come home. I stayed with a young couple, Rod and Xoliswa Sibeko and their family. Xoliswa had got in touch with me some time before, passing through London.
She thought I must be a relative of her husband because of the surname, and had invited me to stay with them when I was in Cape Town. Even when it turned out we could not trace any relationship, they repeated their invitation and welcomed me into their home in Lansdowne. They took me around to seek out people I wanted to see.
In Nyanga East the ANC branch, led by my old comrades Moffat Putego and Melford Stuurman and others, put on a big party to welcome me home. This was not my own branch, which was Nyanga West, and I was a bit disappointed that no one from there made any effort to mark my return.
Before long, SARHWU called me back to Johannesburg and asked me to travel the regions addressing members. It was a wonderful opportunity to see parts of my country which I had never seen before. I went to Natal first, and then on to East London where I found, to my embarrassment, that my Xhosa was rusty when it came to addressing meetings! From there I went to Port Elizabeth, Cape Town and Kimberley. Everywhere hundreds of railway workers turned out to hear me and I was given a really warm welcome.
While in Durban I got involved in a meeting between union representatives and employers. It was immediately obvious that neither side had any idea about how to negotiate - all they knew was confrontation. When I said they all needed seminars on labour relations, otherwise there would always be unnecessary fights and strikes, the senior railways official wanted me to stay and run seminars for him. I was unable to do that, but all my subsequent experience in the railway industry confirmed this impression, and I suspect it applies to other industries too.
In the new South Africa bosses have to learn to listen to and take seriously what workers' representatives are saying, and shop stewards have to develop effective negotiating skills.
This tour reached a climax when I returned to Johannesburg Airport. I was met by SARHWU president Justice Langa, who works there, and all the shop stewards. They invited me to address mass meetings in every department, and each department came to a standstill when I went in. I was amazed, and expected to be arrested at any time, but nothing of that sort happened.
After the tour came the SARHWU conference, which was good. There were the usual elections for officers, and I was pleasantly surprised to be informed I had been elected honorary president for life. It was a great honour to me to find that, after being away for so many years, people still had love and respect for me.
I assured them that as long as I lived I would try to be helpful to SARHWU However, being honorary president immediately presented problems. I was living in Cape Town, and negotiating to buy a small house there, but found I was called to Johannesburg whenever there was a SARHWU meeting or demonstration. So I was always yo-yoing up and down the country.
I had not yet got involved with ANC politics in Cape Town. I had visited old friends, but most friends of my generation seemed active in leading civic associations rather than the ANC. I was not living in a township where most ANC activities take place. My mind was focussed on SARHWU and its many problems, and I was spending a lot of time with them in Johannesburg.
One day while in Johannesburg I received a call from the ANC in Cape Town saying I had been nominated by three branches for the post of regional chairman. I made no comment at first, but Xoliswa later phoned and persuaded me to take it seriously and to return for the ANC regional conference.
The conference was opened by Nelson Mandela. One of the things he said surprised us. He urged that, since he thought coloureds were in the majority in the region, they should lead the ANC.
I think our great leader had been wrongly advised to bring that up. It may have been a correct policy, but it was said at the wrong time. Headquarters should have asked for the issue to be discussed by branches before the conference. Delegates had already been given mandates for the elections, and now they had to go back during the conference and get a new mandate.
After the branches had been consulted as far as possible, Allan Boesak was elected chair.
There had been an unpleasant incident before the elections when some young people, who did not know me, stood up and argued that I should not be elected to the leadership because I had deserted MK. I was told that Tony Yengeni, a young man I had known and worked with in exile, had put them up to it. Apparently he wanted to be elected chair.
Fortunately I did not need to answer the accusation. There were many in the hall who had been involved with me outside while they were underground, and were quick to defend me.
In spite of those insinuations I was elected vice chairperson - which again was an honour for me - this time from my own people in the Western Cape. From then on I was involved again in the ANC at regional level.
Tony Yengeni was elected secretary, and since we would have to work together I confronted him about his stories. I told him in detail what happened with Moses Mabhida, and how it had led to my being squeezed out of MK, and reminded him of my subsequent contributions to the struggle, which he already knew.
I also told him something he did not know. At one time in Lusaka I had intervened on his behalf. He was working for SACTU in Maseru, and someone had reported him as a spy. The intention had been to recall him to Lusaka for arrest, but I had managed to put a stop to that. I did not accept that the ANC had the right to do such a thing to SACTU comrades without consulting its leadership, and somehow the matter had been dropped.
Tony could only say he was sorry, and he cried when he said it.
It soon became apparent that Boesak was not the right person to lead the ANC in the Western Cape. This was nothing to do with the later accusations about financial scandals: it was his way of working.
He had no experience of leading a mass organisation like the ANC, and had never been involved in ANC work. His practice was to drop into the regional office only to chair formal meetings - he gave no leadership in day to day work. This was at a time when we badly needed to inject massive effort into building the ANC for the future, and when there were many difficult issues crying out for ANC intervention.
I tried to set up a meeting with Boesak to discuss these matters. To do this I had to approach his personal secretary, whom he sometimes sent to the office. I had no response to my request, and this worried me. I felt it spelt disaster.
One of the serious issues which wanted tackling was the state of war between the two rival Cape Town taxi groups, Lagunya and Webta. Both were competing for the monopoly of the most lucrative routes, and were physically fighting each other with guns. Customers were dying. I believed enemies of the people were using the taxi groups to destabilise the townships and was very concerned. In the absence of an effective chair it fell to me to get involved.
One day I went into the ANC office in Athlone. I found a group of people discussing what to do about a taxi battle which had just broken out at the Nyanga East terminal. They were looking for volunteers to intervene.
By the time I arrived only one person had volunteered: a young man called Vincent Diba. I said I would accompany him. I was curious to see who was there and what was going on. Another comrade offered to drop us off.
Somehow this comrade managed to stop in the middle of the terminal. We got out and as the car drove away found ourselves alone, in the no-man's land between two armed groups. One of the groups included armed police and TV cameras, and we decided to head for them and ask what was going on.
The officer in charge said they had intervened when people were fighting, and that the situation was really dangerous. He wanted to know who we were. We replied that. we were ANC, and reminded him that the ANC had a commitment to the Peace Accord which had been signed, so felt responsible for trying to get people together to talk whenever there were quarrels.
The police seemed to listen, but some taxi people reacted with hostility to the mention of the ANC. They got excited and shouted out that we were the people who were shooting at them, with our AK guns. They were pointing at Diba, whom they seemed to know. I took advantage of this and said:
"You don't know me, I have just come from abroad."
Meanwhile I indicated to Diba that he should escape into one of the police cars and negotiate with the police on how we were to leave the area, while I tried to pacify the people and convince them that the ANC was sincere about peace. I invited them to come to our regional office to discuss their taxi problems.
A black policeman, concerned about my safety, told me these people were mad and that I should leave them alone and get out. I was called to join Diba in a black, unmarked car which drove us quickly out of the terminal. Obviously it was a police bullet-proof car, and I thought it was possible we were being kidnapped. But they dropped us away from the conflict area and we walked to the house of some comrades.
That evening I had phone calls from people who had seen me on television. They complained, wanting to know who had sent me on such a dangerous mission before I knew my way around. I explained that I had volunteered, I was not sent by anyone, and that I had not expected to find myself in the middle of a battleground.
When the regional executive met we gave our report, and moved a motion that the ANC should intervene properly in the taxi war, by meeting the leaders of the rival groups.
At the first meeting there was a lot of aggro but they began to listen to what I was saying from the chair. I convinced them that no one benefited from their fighting except the apartheid regime and big bus companies, and persuaded them to work together towards merging the two organisations, and setting up an office.
I told them that if they had problems or disputes they should turn to the ANC for help. This could include organising pressure on banks if they were refusing loans to buy new taxis.
At that time the negotiating forum between the liberation movement and the government was in session, and had been called the Convention for a Democratic South Africa, CODESA. I suggested that the unified taxi organisation should copy this, and be called CODETA - Congress of the Democratic Taxi Association. The leaders agreed to take my proposals back to their members.
Peace prevailed up to the time Weft Cape Town and on returning I was pleased to see taxis labelled CODETA.
However, there has been more trouble since then and in my opinion this complex problem will be with us for a long time. It will be solved only when all taxis are registered and controlled as part of a comprehensive transport structure.
While involved in the taxi dispute, I had started visiting branches, but before I had reached many SARHWU called on me again.
The first vice president, Tshabadira Moshoeshoe, asked me go to Johannesburg - a major crisis had arisen.
Shop stewards from the Southern Transvaal, SARHWU's biggest region, had occupied headquarters, and would not allow in any staff or officers, including the general secretary. Their reason was that headquarters had signed an agreement with employers without consulting the membership. They did not accept that.
When I reached Johannesburg I looked for the general secretary, Sebakwane in vain he had gone underground. I wanted to talk to him, and find out what had happened before I went to the offices, but I could not. So I went to the offices to see the shop stewards who were occupying them. People were there and I asked them why, but they said they were delegated by the shop stewards' committee and could not answer me.
It seemed to me that this was a situation calling for COSATU's intervention/ but this was impossible. General secretary jay Naidoo, assistant general secretary Sidney Mafumadi and other leaders had been charged with murder, and at that moment the case was being heard in court.
The cases followed dramatic events in 1987. COSATU House had been partly destroyed by a bomb, and in the wave of anger which followed some workers had beaten up a fellow worker suspected of being a police spy. The man had died. Police had arrested several workers from a crowd of demonstrators and accused them of murder, but later had decided to add the names of COSATU leaders to the list of the accused. The cases had just reached the courts.
I decided that at least I would seek the advice of a senior COSATU person, so I went to court and was able to get hold of Chris Dlamini, the first vice president, to discuss the SARHWU problems with him. He agreed to intervene that evening but he too could get nowhere. Eventually a meeting was arranged between the shop stewards and COSATU leaders. The stewards said they had no confidence in the leadership of SARHWU, and wanted to remove them all.
Of course the other regions of SARHWU did not agree that one region could sack the national leadership, which had been elected by a national conference, and COSATU shared that view. The national and regional leaders agreed that I should temporarily take charge of SARHWU, and that the occupation should end at once.
The Southern Transvaal Region accepted that I should take charge, but still refused to get out until their grievance was solved.
It happened that headquarters was about to move to new premises, so we left and I went to start work in the new office. My first mission was to call a conference, but there was no money to do this. I had to think about raising funds, which took time. I approached the International Transport Federation (ITF), the African American Labour Council (AALC), and the Commonwealth TUC.
I knew that ITF would want to know if the labour centre supported us, so I went to see Sam Shilowa, then assistant general secretary of COSATU. He was very helpful and wrote a letter of support on the spot. I was able to produce it when the ITF's question arose. In the end ITF gave us R75 000 and the AALC R27 000 - enough for an extended national executive committee to be called.
Meanwhile I had been trying to put right the deep financial and administrative problems I found at headquarters. I had to exert almost dictatorial powers to control the financial crisis and to clamp down on spending both in the regions and at the centre. It was a matter of trying to sort out administrative chaos, a very painful process, but one which was understood and accepted in the end.
The extended national executive committee meeting, in Bloemfontein, approved my report and endorsed the drastic measures I had introduced. They also took decisions about the occupation and the dispute which led to it. They decided that the occupation must end at once, or those involved would face expulsion. All the national executive were suspended, as were the officers of the Southern Transvaal region.
A commission of enquiry was set up, composed of representatives of COSATU, the ANC and the SACP. There were delays in getting the three organisations to nominate people, but I kept pushing and eventually the commission was established with Jeremy Baskin from COSATU, Siphiwo Nyanda from the ANC (later chief of staff in the South African National Defence Force), and Jabu Moeketsi from the SACP (later minister for the economy for Gauteng - formerly Transvaal - province).
I was grateful to these three comrades, who worked very quickly and after hearing all the evidence produced a report within a few weeks.
The national executive committee had also asked me to continue running union affairs until the commission reported and circumstances returned to normal. I was worried because all this time I was absent from my duties in the Western Cape ANC, but felt I had no option but to try to help SARHWU through this difficult period.
I have to say that throughout COSATU leaders were very supportive, which made my tasks easier.
The report of the commission of enquiry recommended that the national executive committee elect new national office bearers to cover until the next congress, the former general secretary and another senior officer being ineligible, and that the Southern Transvaal officers be reinstated. Further, they said agreements should not be reached with employers without a mandate, and that urgent measures be taken to establish efficient administrative and financial control of the union, and to re-establish unity in the organisation.
I had to call another extended national executive committee meeting to receive and approve the commissioners' report. It was chaired by comrade Godfrey Oliphant, vice chair of COSATU, and the commissioners' report was presented by Jay Naidoo, general secretary. It was a difficult meeting, but the two did skilful jobs and in the end the report was accepted. A new interim national executive committee was elected, and my caretaker task was over. I was released to return to Cape Town.
It had been painful for me to see SARHWU, the union so close to my heart, going through such a difficult period, although really it was no surprise. There were bound to be difficulties in building above ground organisations after the years in which our people had been suppressed.My analysis was that most if not all that went wrong was through inexperience. Railway workers are very militant, and had no experience at all of negotiating. As I had noted in Durban, everything for them was fight or surrender. Membership had grown, very quickly - more quickly than the educational structures could cope with - and people' had been elected as shop stewards and to other positions without any proper idea of what was required of them.
This was a time which called for strong and experienced leadership capable of welding the membership into a disciplined and united force. I am confident that in future members will be able to elect experienced leaders at all levels and be able to trust them.
Full-time officers must be accountable, but be entitled to have their say and use their initiative. If they go wrong, they can be replaced at the next conference. Whatever happens, I will honour the pledge I gave when they elected me honorary president. I will always be ready to give guidance and help to SARHWU in any way I can, but probably my most valuable role is to try to give a longer term strategic view, on shaping transport policy, and moving towards "one industry, one union" for the transport industry.
I hope I will never again be asked to be caretaker, because I would not be able to do it now. It was a very stressful experience. It was made worse because I was still trying to get used to the changed South Africa which I had found on my return, but also I did not feel comfortable working alone in Johannesburg. In addition to the pressures of running SARHWU, I had felt bad neglecting my duties and comrades in Cape Town.
When I returned after completing my tasks for SARHWU, I plunged straight into my ANC vice chair duties.
I decided my priorities would be to resume my visits around the branches, and work on bringing civic associations and their leaders closer to the ANC.
As I have said, most of my generation who were still around were activists in the Civics, not in the ANC. My analysis was that this was not because of disagreements over ANC policy, but perhaps because they felt that their past and present contributions were not valued by the local leadership, none of whom had been in the struggle as long. They had suffered torture and imprisonment and sacrificed a lot.
I did not think it would be difficult to put this right. My plan was to suggest that some of the old timers always be invited to sit on the platform when the ANC had a big meeting. This would show them the respect which they deserved, and would cement the relationship between the Civics and the ANC.
Of course there are often conflicts between generations, but I felt that in the last stages of our struggle for freedom they should not be allowed to stand in the way of the fight for a new democratic South Africa.
It was not to be
Unfortunately I did not get far with my plans.
Since the happy day I had returned to my country I had been like a fire brigade, rushing up and down in response to crises. This took its toll.
After a short time in Cape Town I became ill one night, losing my balance and finding speech difficult. As soon as Joyce heard she urged me to fly back to England, and SARHWU comrades put me on the plane.
She had arranged for me to see doctors and the specialists diagnosed a stroke. They said I would recover completely, but if I wanted to live longer I should retire from my heavy involvement in politics and take medication for the rest of my life.
I had always sincerely believed that at a certain age people should make way for the younger generation. This does not apply to everyone, of course. Some people have special talents and special duties to perform for as long as they live - I mean men like Mandela and Tambo.
I had intended to retire soon after 65, but my illness brought this forward a little.
I wrote to Tony Yengeni, secretary of the ANC for the Western Cape, explaining what had happened, asking to be relieved of the post of vice chair. He wrote back on behalf of the regional executive accepting my resignation and thanking me for what I had done.
While I was convalescing in Manchester and receiving physiotherapy, my wife got worried that she was working long hours while I was at home alone. She decided that she too should retire early.
I am now fully recovered from the stroke, but because of the specialists' warning, she tries to ensure I have a quiet life, which those who know me will realise is no easy task. Perhaps if it were not for her I would not be alive now.
We travel to South Africa as often as we can to see my family and keep in touch with SARHWU. My brother and sisters are all still alive and reasonably well, and my children are settling down. I had eventually managed to see all of them before I was free to go home. The first time I had seen one of my children since fleeing the country was in 1975, when I was travelling up and down to Africa for SACTU. On one trip I heard that my second son Nqaba, now called by his other name Vuyo, was active in student protests and had had to flee the country. I saw him briefly in Gaberone before he and his group were taken by the ANC to Tanzania and then to Moscow for further education.
Like many of his generation he could be troublesome, and when he got into trouble in Moscow he was thrown out and returned to Tanzania. At Tom Nkobi's suggestion he joined us in Manchester. He stayed with us at first and started college, but dropped out.
We wanted to encourage him to stand on his own feet and got him a flat. Then he moved in with a young woman, Karen, with whom he had a child - our granddaughter Kielle -and later moved in with another woman, Melanie, who gave him a great deal of support.
Uprooted from his culture in his teens, he found it hard to mature, and was in trouble on and off until he went home in 1994. Happily he is now holding down a job in Cape Town, and we hope he is recovering from the damage apartheid inflicted on him.
The next landmark was in 1979, when Dave and Merryn Cooke invited Temba and Sybil to Mahalapye in Botswana while I was there. They arrived with three of their children and my two girls, Nomonde and Yolisa. This was wonderful - the first time I had seen them for 16 long years. The babies I had left behind were now beautifil young women, and shy of me.
I did not see my elder son, Zofa Siphiwo, until December 1980, or my youngest daughter, Shula, until December 1981. On those two occasions Sybil and Temba took the family to Gaberone for Christmas at a cousin's house, and Joyce and I went down to join them. The second time we had Bob and Helen, Joyce's two younger children, with us.
Siphiwo, although the eldest, was and is always very quiet. When I fell ill in Cape Town he looked after me, but generally he is elusive, not staying long in one place. Often no one can tell us where he is. He seems to have taken a personal stand against apartheid by refusing to co-operate in any way with anything official. He never had a pass or any other government papers and refused to apply for a driving licence. He never had a regular job, although he is very skilled with his hands, be it plumbing, electrical work, car engines or whatever. He has a daughter, our granddaughter Mandy, but his lifestyle makes it impossible for him to look after her and she is with my niece's family in Dimbaza.
My eldest daughter, Nomonde, is also very quiet. She followed me to train in agriculture at Fort Cox, and married a fellow student, Calvin Suping. They live in Mafikeng with their three children, Lesego, Thato and Dumisani, and she works as an agricultural officer. Their family suffered harassment and financial damage from the Bantustan regime of Lucas Mangope, and they are still feeling the aftermath.
Yolisa, my second daughter, was something of a rebel at school and college and eventually came to London to study in 1986. She was here for nine years but unfortunately was seriously ill most of the time, requiring neurosurgery several times. She returned to Cape Town in 1995, much better but without the qualifications she hoped for.
After I made contact with my youngest daughter, Shula, in 1980, I asked Sybil and Temba to help her to get a better education and she started at Pandulwazi boarding school in the Tyume Valley.
Eventually she returned to Cape Town to finish her schooling and then came to University in London, bringing her son Bonisani. She completed her studies successfully and returned to a research job in parliament. She is now married and has another child, Sivile.
My hope now is that as we move forward into a new democratic South Africa, all of my children who were damaged by the traumas apartheid inflicted on them and other problems that they have had, will build themselves secure and happy lives at last.
Almost all of South Africa's black children suffered from the pernicious effects of apartheid. My children, in addition, suffered because their father dedicated his life to fighting against oppression and discrimination for all our children. Because of that I could not give them a father's care and attention, which hurt me as well as them.
On our visits we have been to Parliament to see my former juniors, who are back home now as MPs and ministers. Of course I sometimes wish I was there with them, reminding them of the lessons we learned in the struggle. But that is not to be. I am satisfied that I have lived to see the victory for which so many people paid such a high price.
I had written some notes about my life over the last few years, and we decided to use our retirement to work on this account of my experiences from childhood and through the years of struggle inside and outside South Africa. Joyce has written it as we discussed it.
The story covers a wide canvas, and as I wrote at the outset, my intention has been both to entertain and inform.
I hope people do not feel I have tried to present myself as perfect. That is far from the case. I am short tempered, often not tactful and indeed sometimes intolerant, although I do not bear grudges. I like to boast, proudly, that as a result of my mother's training I do not smoke or drink. This often provokes people to ask:
"What about women?"
I have no answer to that. Women have been my weakness and a cause of troubles. I can say I know I am not the only one, but that is not a good excuse.
In politics my experience has been that only people who do nothing never make mistakes. No one can say I have done nothing. I have worked very hard throughout the years, so have made many mistakes. I hope my readers will look at my life in that light. Some of the things I have said about other people's mistakes should be seen in that context too.
My wish is that what I have said will precipitate discussion, that other organisations as well as the ANC may learn from some of our experiences in the past. For example, it is better not to overload people with too many responsibilities, particularly people in more than one organisation. Also, it is damaging not to be open with committed members.
I have dropped out of the main battles, but we had a saying:
"When one leader falls, another 10 spring up, and the struggle continues."
We fought for, and won, our freedom in South Africa. But it is obvious that freedom will be safe only when it is accompanied by justice. This applies all over the world: freedom has not yet been won in many places, and where it has, it still needs to be protected and extended. Those tasks I have to leave to you.
Postscript 1,.. Election day
In April 1994 I was well enough to be in South Africa and to act as a returning officer in Nyanga East. April 27 was an incredible day. At 4.00am the queues outside the polling station already stretched far out of sight, winding around the township.
Voting should have started at 7.00am, but no voting papers had arrived by then. Whether this was because of incompetence or sabotage I do not know. In fact the papers did not arrive until the afternoon, but people just sat down and waited patiently. What were a few more hours, after waiting 300 years? I was amazed and impressed. People knew what they wanted to do, and they would stay there until they had done it.
There was no trouble or fighting in Nyanga East or most other places in South Africa that day. Another aspect of the voting I will never forget was the many people who came from their sick beds, even their death beds. Some were wheeled in wheelbarrows, determined to make that cross on the voting paper even if it was literally the last thing they did.
The enormity of the change taking place in South Africa really hit me in the afternoon. A white policeman came up to me and asked: "When can we vote, Sir?" The slogan "Freedom in our Lifetime" became a reality to me with that question.
Postscript 2: In the spirit of reconciliation
One day, when I was travelling alone by train up to Johannesburg, I had an extraordinary encounter.
I found myself sharing a compartment with two white men, one of whom, in his 40s, turned out to be a recently retired policeman. He told me he had joined the police in 1967 and had been sent almost at once on "border duty". He had been at all the scenes of South Africa's nefarious interventions in neighbouring states, including Rhodesia. There he had hunted "terrorists" at Wankie.
I accused him of being a murderer and a torturer but he denied it strongly. He also asserted he had never been afraid. I told him I had been commanding in Rhodesia, and that I knew what the South African forces had done. I also assured him that I had been afraid many times, for myself and for my men. He stuck to his story, he had killed no-one and never been afraid.
We had friendly discussions in spite of this, and all went to eat together (the other man was English and had little to say). Then we got into our bunks and I fell asleep. I was soon roused by a terrible screaming from my police companion on the top bunk. He said he had been dreaming that he was being chased. We settled down again, and this man - our former enemy - uttered his terrible screams at least five times more before morning.
Later he disclosed that his wife had left him and he was now alone in the world. I could not help feeling sorry for him.
While those who sent him to hunt and kill his fellow countrymen were still enjoying themselves in Parliament and other affluent positions, he was haunted and doomed by his part in our country's bitter history.
I realised that healing is needed by some of our oppressors too, not just by black victims of apartheid. I advised him to seek professional help and suggested that he needed to purge himself of his past, and that the best way to do that would be to go to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
I do not think he was ready to do that, but perhaps he will come eventually to see the wisdom of it.
Appendix
The struggle throws up many great heroes
Looking back, I now have time to reflect on the comrades with whom I had worked in the course of our struggles in Cape Town, in particular on those who stood out as leaders. The Western Cape produced many such people in the 1950s and 1960s, some of them also national heroes.
Most of those active in our movement suffered for their commitment. Their lives and those of their families were distorted, often wrecked, but they stood firm. All were harassed and arrested, and later many were tortured. Some were forced into exile, many spent the best years of their lives in gaol, and others died for the freedom we now enjoy.
Many of these men and women, Africans and others, inspired and encouraged me as a young man. I owe much to them. Some of them appear elsewhere in my story, but I think our country owes all of them a debt, so I am going to record something about others I knew in my Cape Town years. Where I can, I will also add details about what happened to them later. This is my homage to them. I hope it will help ensure that they are never forgotten.
In the early 1950s, ANC branches could be found all over the Peninsula. Later, as the apartheid regime implemented its Group Areas Act, residential areas were segregated according to race, and many people were forcibly removed from their homes and dumped in townships.
They took their organisation - the ANC - with them, and an unintended result of the regime's policy was that the ANC's influence and organising capacity was concentrated and greatly strengthened by the moves. I will consider the branches in turn.
Kensington and Nyanga West Branches
They were my branches. I have already mentioned Sidinile, chairperson of Kensington branch when I arrived. Another influential leader at that time was Aron Gaika, the herbalist. After we moved to Nyanga West new leaders emerged. They included comrades Joseph Mtyekisane and Matthew Ntaba, who later served long sentences on Robben Island, both dying after their release.
Two other leaders - comrade Joseph Ndabezitha, a Zulu man who helped organise the Youth League, and comrade Mrs Nomalizo Mkonto - also died prematurely, perhaps hastened by the harassment and torture they suffered. The same fate befell Letty Sibeko, my wife, and Priscilla Mngeni. Mtyekisani's wife, comrade Mrs Gertrude Mtyekisane, was very activeAn the Women's Federation as well as the ANC. I believe she is still alive.
Throughout, Looksmart Ngudle was one of our leaders. He was a great organiser, patient but persistent and very popular. He was one of seven members of the regional committee in the Western Cape structure and took over as chair of that group, in addition to having responsibility for MK when I was instructed to leave the country.
He paid for this with his life. In 1963 he was the first of the ANC martyrs to be tortured to death by police in Pretoria.
The second martyr from Nyanga West was Elijah Loza. A steadfast, brave and defiant man, he came from Alice and in Cape Town worked as a baker, later working full-time for the Bakers' Union. At first he lived in hostels in Langa, but when his wife joined him he moved to Nyanga West.
It was he who organised the township to ensure that none of the so-called urban councillors - government appointed stooges - dared show their faces in Nyanga West.
He was the regional executive member with responsibility for the youth league and he was like the Pied Piper to young people: they would follow him anywhere. He was arrested and tortured but returned, continuing his underground work. Later he was re-arrested and when the police could not make him betray his comrades, they killed him.
Elsies River and Nyanga East Branches
Many of the Elsies River ANC leaders were widely known. John Mtini was their chair, and also an active communist and chair of the Railway Union in the Western Cape. It was he who persuaded me to work full-time for the union. Sadly he did not live to see freedom dawn.
Joe MtIhuela, another leader of the branch, was a communist too and an ANC leader at Peninsula level. Once he was smuggled on to a Russian ship to go to Moscow for political training. He succeeded in getting back into the country and continued to organise. He was Sothu speaking and was deported to Lesotho in the early 1960s. Simon Makheta was another Sothu speaking activist who was also deported to Lesotho.
Another man, still young, who was active in those days was jack Masiane, while Mildred Lesia was one of the Elsies River old timers whom I met when I returned in 1991. She is a Women's League leader who continued the struggle underground, and is still active today.
When Africans were evicted from Elsies River many were sent to Nyanga East. Among them were Ben Stuurman, Molfat Putego, Oscar Mpetha and Mildred Halo, who became leaders of the new Nyanga East branch. Stuurman is a preacher, which may have protected him from attacks the regime made on the others. He is solid ANC right up to today. Putego had no protection. He was arrested and tortured, but survived and I found him active in the civics when I got home. Mildred Milo, active in the Women's Federation as well as the ANC, was still there too in 1991.
Oscar Mpetha, as I have reported, was one of the first people I met when looking for a job in Cape Town. He was secretary of the African Food and Canning Workers' Union as well as an ANC and community activist. He remained active underground throughout and later became president of the United Democratic Front (UDF). He suffered a stroke, and after some years.of disability died in 1994. He at least has a memorial, the Oscar Mpetha High School in Nyanga East.
Kraalfontein Branch
Kraaifontein was a part of Bellville where many Africans lived. They were removed and most were relocated in the middle of Nyanga, between East and West. The ANC branch decided to maintain its identity and continue to call itself Kraaifontein.
In the upheaval two leaders went elsewhere. The late Charles Makholliso, also a Builders' Union activist, was living alone so he moved to the hostels in Langa. The chair, Comrade Elias Matinya, also an active trade unionist, decided to go to Stellenbosch to join his friend, Chris Hani's uncle Kayamandi Tshemyane Hani. Matinya was a Sothu, Ad better educated than most of us. He taught us a lot.Some of the later leaders of Kraainfontein were also trade unionists: Bernard Huna of the Garage Workers' and Reverend Sikolakhe Marawu of Transport and General. Marawu often presided over ANC funerals. He may have been protected from torture by his dog collar. Huna was tortured, and so was comrade Mountain Qumbela, who had responsibility for the Youth League. Both were arrested and taken to Pretoria. After torture they served sentences on Robben Island.
Christina Mlamleli was another very active ANC person in this branch. She was also a Women's Federation leader. She did not live to see freedom.
Langa Branch
Langa was, at first, the only "African location" in Cape Town. All the single sex compounds were there, as well as some family housing, and of course it produced many leaders.
One whom I knew well was Gilbert Hani, Chris's father. He concentrated on organising migratory workers in compounds. As well as strengthening our work in Cape Town, this helped the ANC to grow in rural areas when people went back home.
When Chris finished his degree at Fort Hare and moved to Cape Town to complete his legal training, Gilbert asked me to involve him more in the movement, which I did, both with students and other young people, and with trade union work. Later police harassment forced Gilbert to leave Cape Town, and he went to Lesotho. There he was able to help Chris, who by then was hard at work forming underground links with home. Cilbert lived to return to a free South Africa, only to see his son murdered and to die himself the following year.
Another Langa leader was a powerful women called Anny Silinga, who just could not be intimidated. She was deported many a time to the Transkei, but always eluded the authorities, often returning on the very same train on which she had been sent out!
Johnson Ngwevela was chairperson of the Langa Branch and also a Communist Party leader. He worked in the office of Sam Kahn, the progressive lawyer who defended so many of our people. Ngwevela was often a key link with those arrested. He died before 1990.
Comrade Simon Xamlashe was another staunch Langa leader, and so were Comrades Lucas Kukulela, (also chairman of the Hospital Workers), James Mphemba, Elliot Ndziba, David Mgugunyeka, and Mrs Mrntshawe Mafanya. Mrs Mafanya is still involved today. Her former husband Comrade Mafanya and his friend Comrade Vuyisile Mase were small businessmen in Langa who were part of the ANC leadership. Last of the Langa leaders was Charles Makholiso. Many people will remember his powerful baritone voice with which he led the singing of Nkosi Sikelela IAfrica in the days when we had big crowds but no microphones.
Windermere Branch
The chairperson of Windermere Branch was George Ngqunge, but the people I knew best were James Tyeku and Faldon Mzonke. They were arrested and tried together with Chris and me in 1963, and we left the country together. Tyeku, known in exile as Dala
Boy, was a skilled motor mechanic, one of a small group of invaluable comrades who kept MK vehicles on the move. Mrs Pascalina Tyekti was and still is in charge of catering for funerals, meetings and emergency soup kitchens. Mzonke was a remarkable man. He was obviously.very intelligent, but had never been to school and it was not until he joined the ANC that he learned to read and write. Before that he had worked as a boiler attendant, and soon mastered all there was to know about boilers. His bosses recognised this, and left this illiterate, "unskilled" man with the sole responsibility of running and maintaining their boilers.
Mzonke was effective in our sabotage operations because he understood the power systems in factories. In MK he was one of the heroes who fought under the ANC-ZAPU joint high command in what was then Rhodesia, and he laid down his life for freedom in the Zambezi valley.
Crawford Branch
One of Crawford's ANC leaders was my old friend Zoli Malindi. He was a man involved in all aspects of the struggle, working for the Garage Workers' Union, and the SACP, as well as being one of the seven ANC regional committee members. He was frequently harassed and arrested and he too was tortured by the police in Pretoria. They did not break him and he continued his work underground. He travelled to Lesotho secretly from time to time for meetings with me and other external people.
He succeeded Oscar Mpetha as chair of the UDF, and in spite of poor health is still active today in the civics. He is supported by his wife, Lottie, a former Black Sash worker. Comrade Eric Lusaseni was the branch secretary and he too was tortured. Greenwood Ngotyana was another Crawford leader, coming from the same part of the Transkei as Zoli. He was parliamentary election agent for Len Lee Warden, one time Native Representative in the Cape Parliament. Nellie Jibiliza was another prominent Crawford comrade at the forefront of the Women's Federation.
Rylands Branch
This branch was led by a husband and wife team, Comrade James Booysen and his wife Comrade Maggie, who were chairman and secretary. Both have already passed away. Comrade Booysen once had the distinction of being thrown out of a branch meeting by Nelson Mandela. Booysen was out relaxing over a drink one weekend when Nelson, then underground, arrived unexpectedly at Rylands. A branch meeting was hastily called in a local hall and was already underway when the chairperson heard about it. He hurried to the hall and coming in at the back saw a young stranger taking the chair. In response to his loud query, "Who is that boy in my chair?" Nelson came down from the platform, took him by the collar and ejected him
Retreat Branch
This was a branch I worked closely with while organising local woodworkers and railwaymen. Two women were the leaders. Dora Tamane, also a unionist, was chairperson and Evelyn Nqose was secretary. Her eldest son was a woodworker and later became a full-timer for the Woodworkers' Union. A younger son, Zolile, organised the African municipal workers and later was my comrade in MK, where he was known as Wilson. He was a hero of Wankie, and served prison sentences in Botswana and Zambia for his part in the armed struggle. Since returning home he has been involved in community projects, the latest being a local environmental centre in Langa but he is now a brigadier in the South African National Defence Force.
Cape Town Central Branch
This branch had two notable leaders who both happened to be of Tswana origin. Joe Morolong was one, and also a full-time trade union officer, for the Commercial and Catering Union. The other was Thomas Esetang, the branch secretary. Thomas Ngwenya was in this branch. He was unusual in that he also belonged to the Liberal Party. I believe all these comrades died quite young.
Other Branches
There were branches outside Cape Town too, which produced notable leaders. I have already mentioned Comrade Hani in Stellenbosch, the brother of Gilbert and uncle of Chris. Chris took after him in one way at least for his uncle was one of the most articulate leaders we had. His speaking usually silenced us because he had said all there was to be said.
Worcester had the big Hex River Textile Mills and many of the ANC leaders there were active unionists in the Textile union. I knew the two Treason Trialists from Worcester, Joseph Mpoza, who later became chair of the branch, and Julius Busa, Busa being a trade unionist. Comrade Mpinda Mpilo, Joe Ngulube and Ben Baartman, chairperson, were also Textile Union men. Ben became my friend as well as my comrade. For reasons unknown this Xhosa man was banished for life to a remote part of Zululand, where he had no connections. Of course he did not accept this, and he made his way to Swaziland, eventually to Zambia, where he worked in the exile headquarters of SACTU. We invited him to the London SACTU office once, and I was reminded of the rich fruit orchards of Worcester when he stayed with me in my flat. I made him a meal, and then made my mistake. I put a bowl of fruit in front of him, enough for the whole week, and went out to the kitchen. When I came back I found him eating his way through the lot. I had to explain to him that in London, unlike in Worcester, fruit does not grow on trees, and so we eat only one or two fruits a day.
When Ben returned home to Worcester he was elected chair of the ANC branch once again.
Paarl was also a branch with some notable leaders, including Joe Ndamoyi and Lydia Kazi. The comrade I knew best was Elizabeth Mafekeng. She was a Women's League leader, but I knew her because she was president of the African Food and Canning Workers' Union. She too was banished, sent in exile to Lesotho, but I am told she is now back in Paarl.
During this period I am writing about, the 50's and 60's, the ANC had no office and no full-time officers. Everything depended on people who had other jobs. Some of us who worked for unions saw no distinction between politics and trade union interests, so we readily put our energy and resources to work for the ANC when needed, but most of what we did was on top of full-time commitment elsewhere, the same as for other workers. The only real resource we had was the office of the parliamentary native representative, staffed by Greenwood Ngotyana and other comrades. The "native representative" was elected by Africans, to represent African interests - but of course he or she was white. There were some hot debates about participation in this government pantomime, but pragmatic arguments won. We needed platforms, we needed every opportunity to explain to our people what was going on, and we needed the resources.
Although the extreme left and the black nationalists shouted "Collaborators" at us, we had no illusions about what we were doing. It was not an exercise in democracy, it was just a small extra opportunity to politicise our people. There was an illustrious list of "native representatives". Perhaps Sam Kahn raised the most fury in the Nationalists as he was so skilled in whipping them with his tongue. Others were Brian Bunting and Fred Carneson - all were hated for being communist. Ray Alexander stood for election but by that time they were able to disqualify her for being a communist. After that Len Lee Warden, a Congress of Democrats' activist was elected and he sat until the government wiped out this tiny indirect African representation in their parliament, and then we lost that useful office.
The white comrades I have just mentioned were not, at that time, eligible for ANC membership, and neither were coloured or Indian comrades, but they and many others made significant contributions to the struggle. They could have lived safe comfortable and probably affluent lives, but they chose to throw in their lot with the oppressed. They had a lot to lose and little to gain except the goal of a more just society.
They often suffered hostility from and rejection by their own communities and even families, as well as prison and exile but their sacrifices helped the ANC to remain non-racialist. I want to mention more of them.
The Congress Alliance brought the Coloured People's Congress, the South African Indian Congress, the Congress of Democrats and the South African Congress of Trade Unions into alliance with the ANC, all united behind the Freedom Charter. All the people I am talking about belonged to one or more of these organisations, and a substantial number belonged to another organisation too, the South African Communist Party.
Perhaps now is the time to discuss the Nationalist regime's accusation that communists were behind the whole liberation movement in South Africa. They seemed to believe that black people would have accepted second class or no citizenship for ever, were it not for communists. Of course that is absurd; people do not need communists to tell them when they are being exploited, and most of us were agitators, activists and revolutionaries long before we heard of communism, let alone joined the Communist Party.
What was true, though, was that the Communist Party enabled us to understand better what was going~6'n in the world, and to develop strategies and alliances to take forward our own struggle. Most of all it turned us into a more disciplined force. Many of our leaders were communists, because workers and ANC members chose to elect the most committed and disciplined people into leadership positions, and people with these characteristics were often communionists.
Ordinary Africans could not be anti-communist. They may or may not know that the SACP, from soon after its establishment, had been the only political party which unreservedly advocated freedom and equality for all the people of South Africa but they did not need to know that. The apartheid regime put down all opposition to its oppression as "communist inspired" and this was enough for them to feel friendly to the Communist Party. I think it will be a long time before that changes.
The whites I came across first were in the Unions. I have already mentioned the great Ray Alexander and Becky Lan in Food and Canning, and Ben Turok in the Metal Workers and SACTU, and Mary Turok who took over from Ben when he was detained in the Treason Trial. I met up with the Turoks again in Tanzania and London, and once more at home. Ben and Mary are both ANC national MPs.
There was also Pietre Beyleveld from the Textile Workers, the first president of SACTU, and Nancy Dick, also of the Textile Workers, one of the first trade unionists to be banned. Leon Levy was secretary of the Laundry and Dyeing Workers, and first treasurer of SACTU, later succeeding Beyleveld as president. Leon is now in London involved in trade union education.
There were also a lot of progressive coloured trade union activists. Liz Abrahams followed Becky Lan in Food and Canning after Becky was banned (Liz was also my minder during the last part of my time underground). Others were Ben January (Laundry Workers), Norman Daniels (Textile Workers), Edgar Dean (Furniture Workers), Petersen (Garment Workers) and Lynon (Fisherman and Line Union), all full-time union officers. Reg September was active in the Tannery and Leather Workers' Union whilst general secretary of the Coloured People's Congress (CPC). In exile he was ANC chief representative in London for some years, including while I was there. He is now back in Cape Town, an ANC MP. Barney Desai was president of CPC, and went abroad as one of those young men sent for military training. While training in Moscow he decided he wanted to leave, and is now a PAC leader.
African activists led very insecure lives. We never knew when we would be arrested; even when we were not arrested, those who worked for the unions were never sure they would get their pay at month end. There were always worries about basic survival, whether there would be enough money to feed and clothe our families and ourselves. There were certainly no spare resources for treatment if anyone were sick, or for lawyers when we were in court. In the Western Cape we were fortunate we had comrades who recognised these problems and did something about them.
Bernard and Ruth Gosschalk were such comrades. Bernard was an architect and a committed activist, sincere but without political ambition. He stepped down from the SACP regional committee to make room for up-and-coming young black activists. He introduced us to his employer, a wealthy well established architect and persuaded this man to give us money on a regular basis. In fact some of us depended on his donations for most of our monthly wages. Ruth, too, was one of those who gave a lot of practical support.
I first met her at a picnic near Kornmetjie. This was one of several events organised by the Women's Federation, of which she was a leading member. These were wonderful events arranged from time to time, at which our families had a day out in the countryside, with a picnic, combined with a series of political lectures. Bernard was later arrested, tortured and imprisoned and eventually the family left the country, settling in Manchester, England. Just after Ruth died Bernard-was invited by Mandela, as I was, to a party for "old stalwarts" in Pretoria.
Another reliable source of financial and other help was Jack Tarshish, a garment factory owner, who risked hiding Chris Hani and me just before we left the country.
The Goldbergs, Esme and Denis, paid as high a price for their commitment to the struggle as any whites in Cape Town. Denis, who had trained MK men in sabotage was underground when he was arrested at Rivonia. He served more than 20 years in prison. Esme was also arrested and when she was released Denis persuaded her to take their children and his mother to England, where she had to survive and care for them as best she could on her own. As soon as he was released Denis got involved in ANC work again, overseas.
The Women's Federation was a multiracial political pressure group, but also a source of practical help for women and children in the townships. As well as Ruth Gosschalk there were a number of other outstanding white women involved, including Sonia Bunting, Esme Goldberg, Amy Thornton and Mary Turok.
In Kensington no ANC family needed to worry about paying for medical treatment. Dr Krishna Moodley was in general practice there, and treated us all for nothing. He and his wife were real friends, inviting us to their home for rare opportunities to relax in comfort and eat delicious food. Krishna was detained when the state of emergency was imposed, and so harassed after his release that the family left for London, where they are still.
In the same way, we knew we could get good legal defence without paying a penny. Our lawyers were powerful people. I remember occasions when I was arrested and claimed the right to contact my lawyer. When I mentioned the name Sam. Kahn, police would became very unhappy and tell me to clear off from the police station as they had decided not to charge me this time. The truth was they were frightened of being made fools of yet again by that brilliant attorney.
When our cases went to a higher court, Sam handed them on to advocate Lionel Forman, equally brilliant. After his premature death, Albie Sachs took over his office, books, and cases, and carried on the excellent work. As people may know, Albie was severely injured by a car bomb when he was in exile in Mozambique, and lost his right arm. This did not diminish his commitment. He is now one of the 11 judges of the highest court in the land, the Constitutional Court. At his induction, he raised the stump of his right arm to affirm his allegiance to the new South Africa. My wife and I met him not long after his appointment, walking down Adderley Street in Cape Town. He was full of energy and looked very happy, happier than I had ever seen him before. He said he could hardly believe that he was, in Cape Town, walking along and thinking like a judge! He was very optimistic saying, "We are building the new South Africa!"I should mention another lawyer, an academic, Professor Jack Simons. He used his legal knowledge of the constitution for our defence in the Treason Trial, as well as for lesser things he advised us about. He was also a practical man, keen to help build a pondoki. He helped me again when he and Ray lent me a cottage behind their house and a car for when I was in Lusaka on MK missions. He defended me (including from Ray) when police discovered arms in the cottage, even though the police detained him because of it. He did more than this for MK. When quite old he went to our camps in Angola to give a series of lectures analysing the situation in South Africa. While there he shared the hardships of the soldiers' lives. I was proud to speak in his honour at a memorial gathering for him in London in 1995.
I have written about Western Cape people whom I knew, worked with and admired, but this homage would be incomplete without reference to two other people. They were and are national leaders, but both had a direct and personal influence on me when I was young. They are Walter Sisulu and Govan Mbeki.
Walter Sisulu was general secretary of ANC when I became a leader in the Western Cape and he held the position until the banning of the ANC. His letters to us were always appreciative and encouraging even though the Western Cape, with a relatively small African population, was probably the region with the smallest membership.
When I met him for the first time I expected a huge, impressive man. I was surprised to see an ordinary-looking person, hardly bigger than myself. He showed interest in listening to what everyone had to say, not at all what I expected of a great man. Now I know it was a sign of his true greatness. I believe he played a major role in building up most of the important leaders of ANC, including Mandela himself.
Govan Mbeki was a shining example to me and everyone who knew him. He was senior leader of the Cape, as well as of his own region, the Eastern Cape. The Eastern Cape had probably the best organised ANC structure in the country and this was largely due to him. He was not politically ambitious and never neglected his home area.
If we had any problems in the Western Cape Govan would always help solve them. He advised us when we had trouble with the PAC, and was always ready to speak at the university when an articulate debater was needed. We had no intellectuals of our own in the ANC in the Western Cape.
Govan saw the importance of trade unions, and was a valued adviser on economic and other issues. He wrote training manuals, memoranda and leaflets for various unions, in terms ordinary workers could understand. When he spoke, he spoke quietly and with dignity. It was obvious he knew what he was talking about, and he had no need to shout as he was very persuasive. Govan is an intellectual who remains a man of the people.
Apartheid deprived our nation of the services of these two great men, who would have been first class statesmen if we had achieved democracy while they were still young.
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