Listening to the silent majority

[64]

One of the most eloquent pleas against disinvestment came from South African parliamentarian, Mrs Helen Suzman, on the editorial page of the New York Times. She stressed that economic sanctions would not end apartheid. Everything I have seen and heard in South Africa between 1986 and 1989 confirms this enlightened view. ‘The loss of export markets,’ she wrote, ‘such as the North American and Scandinavian markets for fruits, will seriously jeopardize the labour market in the Western Cape.’ She confirmed what the churchmen of the Western Cape Council of Churches had been telling me. Mrs Suzman: ‘Fruit growers employ nearly a quarter of a million workers, all of whom are blacks or coloured. Similarly, declining markets for coal will affect the livelihood of about 30 000 black migrants from neighbouring black countries.’^47.

Helen Suzman was an impeccable source, yet, no-one was prepared to listen. She was sharply contradicting Tutu, but American and European politicians ignored her plea. The quiet, balanced mind of the experienced white lady from South Africa, was shouted down by the travelling salesmen of the church. Suzman was a South African politician with a mandate. Where lay Tutu's mandate? Blacks have asked me disturbing questions on the subject of the Archbishop from Cape Town. For instance: ‘Why does the government allow Bishop Tutu to travel the world and whip up sentiments against South Africa? Nobody is allowed to publicly declare his support for sanctions. Why is Tutu allowed to advocate a boycott? Why doesn't anybody nip Tutu in the bud? Nobody is allowed to receive funds from abroad to finance anti-government actions inside South Africa. Why is Tutu being exempted from these regulations? Does his Nobel Prize mean a free ticket to do as he pleases and carry out his anti-South African campaigns unhindered?

47. The New York Times, Op-ed Page, October 4, 1987

[p. 83]

Some of us even think Tutu is a secret agent of the South African government.’ More than once, I have come across these lingering doubts and apprehensive questions about Archbishop Tutu's first-class foreign tours. He used to fly klm until one day he cancelled a flight. A klm official asked him why. His Eminence replied, as befits the great mind of a Nobel Prize winner, of course - ‘In the past, your captains would ask me to visit the cockpit, but they don't do that any more.’