Listening to the silent majority

[128]

Jon Qwelane paged through my book, pushed a mental button, and got lost in a labyrinth of crossed signals and runaway emotions, precisely the way it seems to happen at times in his columns. He also objected in his letter to my view that the travelling churchmen, Tutu, Boesak, Chikane and Beyers Naudé, do not represent the views of the majority of blacks in South Africa, for instance on the subject of sanctions.^116. Who should I believe? Qwelane or the dozen mayors and councillors in black town-

116. Also, The Sowetan of May 12, 1989, reported that ‘an overwhelming majority of South Africans were saying that sanctions should not be applied to end apartheid’

[p. 184]

ships? Qwelane or the bishops and reverends from the Western Cape Council of Churches? Qwelane or the recent survey commissioned by the Chamber of Mines of South Africa as carried out by the South African branch of the Callup organisation in which figures showed that out of thirty-minute interviews with 1 600 black interviewees: 82 per cent were against sanctions and 85 per cent against disinvestment.^117. Qwelane may believe that blacks against sanctions and disinvestment are mad and that the perpetrators of apartheid should be eliminated in a hurry. Therefore Tutu and Co. are his heroes. But in my understanding a journalist never avoids meeting a person with whom one may disagree. On the contrary, sharing views with a stranger often leads to unexpected enrichment.

Jon Qwelane ended his letter as follows: ‘I have been here all my life. I will never argue for apartheid to be given time to sort itself out. I know the evils of apartheid. I live them.’ I do understand what colleague Qwelane is saying. I lived five years of Nazi occupation of the Netherlands. From the age of 15 to 20 (1940-1945) I harboured similar feelings. Our country was occupied by warmongering Germans. The black majority in South Africa must have parallel feelings after being for generations subjugated by a white minority. The Sowetan expressed these feelings of frustration in a recent editorial most eloquently. I suspect the words were Sam Mabe's. The paper spoke of the forthcoming election, September 6, 1989. ‘We blacks have to look on as silent, and perhaps unhappy spectators, as serious matters are being decided about our country and our lives... We who are in the majority in the country, have to look on helplessly as these events are being played out around us. It makes us feel silly and sometimes even angry. Every positive event that takes place here and in Namibia will be used by the crazy right-wingers to instill fear in white voters. Who knows, they can create such panic that there might be a total swing their way when the elections are held. We are only hoping white South Africans are not that short-sighted.’^118.

I wrote Jon Qwelane a letter and asked him to reconsider. But he didn't bother to reply. A closed mind is perhaps the worst that can befall a journalist. A closed mind, in addition to runaway emotions.

117. The Citizen, May 17, 1989

118. The Sowetan, June 9, 1989