Memoires 1993-B

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Inleiding

The Ancient Greek philosopher, Plato, held that there is a world beyond what we can see, feel, hear and touch. It is a world of perfect, eternal ideals that are in a state of being outside of space and time. Conversely, their counterparts in the imperfect, sensible world are in a constant state of becoming, and can never quite live up to the ideal form.

It is seldom that one is reminded of a Platonic ideal when experiencing everyday life and ordinary people. But I have always felt that I met one, in the form of Willem Oltmans. To me, he was the Platonic ideal of a journalist.

Oltmans was relentlessly impartial. He was uninfluenced by popular opinion, media trends and external pressures. He had his own mind, and it was sharp, critical and penetrating. He held balanced views, considering the facts dispassionately, and then passionately advocating for the truth, whether or not it was palatable, fashionable or safe.

We began corresponding years before he came to South Africa. He was interested in the struggle for political liberation being waged in our country, and he sought my opinion as a leader of the struggle who had been mandated to undermine the system from within, when many of our activists were in exile or imprisoned.

When we first began corresponding, I was quite the flavour of the month both in South Africa and abroad. The South African Society of Journalists has named me ‘Newsmaker of the Year’. I was widely quoted, for I spoke out openly against the apartheid system and called for the release of Nelson Mandela, while remaining on South African soil. It was a dangerous position to take, and it attracted a good deal of attention.

When Oltmans first began corresponding with me, I was taken with his intellect and deep understanding of our situation. He had remarkable insight into history and contemporary world events,

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and could place what he saw and heard in a broader context, weighing its significance, meaning and likely result.

I admired him for this. But my real admiration came when the tide of media affection turned and I suddenly became the bête noire of reporters. The watershed moment took place in October 1979, when I and my organisation, Inkatha yeNkululeko yeSizwe, travelled to London to meet with the anc's leadership-in-exile.

Inkatha was little more than a front for the anc, within South Africa, where the anc was banned. But we began to find ideological differences with the anc when it took the decision to abandon the principle of non-violence which had been laid at the foundation of the liberation struggle by my own uncle, Dr Pixley ka Isaka Seme, when he founded the anc in 1912.

Inkatha could not support the use of violence as a political tool. Neither could we support the call for international sanctions and disinvestment from South Africa, for we sought to protect the economy we would all inherit once liberation was achieved.

Inkatha and the anc met in London and discussed these differences for two and a half days, without finding agreement. We left with the commitment to continue talks. But immediately the anc's leadership-in-exile issued a statement denying that the meeting had ever taken place, and shortly thereafter the sluice gates of propaganda were opened against me and Inkatha.

It was felt that I was failing to toe the line, and considering the massive support I had gained, there was a need to vilify me and destroy my influence. Decades later, in 2002, Nelson Mandela spoke candidly about their strategy in a recorded interview. He said, ‘We used every ammunition to destroy (Buthelezi), but we failed. And he is still there. He is a formidable survivor. We cannot ignore him.’

The weapon of lies that was employed against me did tremendous damage. Rather than destroying support for my leadership, it pitted my supporters against supporters of the anc. When the anc began targeting Inkatha in their strategy of people's war, black-on-black violence erupted. It devastated our people.

I continued to call for peace, and no retaliation, even as our people were slaughtered. But the bloodshed and the accompanying pro-

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paganda created an entrenched campaign of Buthelezi-bashing in the media. Many journalists were used to destroy me, both in South Africa and internationally. Bias against anything I said and did became standard for reporters.

There were very few who took the trouble to rise above the propaganda and search out the truth, daring to question the infallibility of the anc which had been cast in the role of righteous liberator, making everyone else the evil antagonist. But Willem Oltmans was one of those few. Despite viewing our struggle from outside, he understood its internal dynamics better than most.

It would have been easy for him to say what everyone expected to hear. Instead, he told the truth. He wrote about me extensively, not only in public writings, but in his own archives. I felt it a pity that his personal writings were all in Dutch, for I longed to read more of his insightful views.

We corresponded regularly, and I always enjoyed reading his thoughts put to paper. It was evident that he had digested whatever I said, and was able to respond with an honest critique. He was one of those rare individuals who actually listen, not simply to respond, but to understand.

Not surprisingly, he became more than a correspondent. We became firm friends. I feel that his defining characteristic was loyalty. I experienced it as loyalty to me, but I know it was loyalty to the truth. It happened that this feature of his character benefitted me tremendously. For that, I shall always be grateful.

I am grateful too that we were able to experience the transition of South Africa from apartheid to democracy. It afforded us the chance to see many of our opinions vindicated and our predictions materialise. It was a pleasure to sit with my friend over several cups of tea and talk about all the ways we had been right all along!

When the Dutch Government pressurised South Africa to expel Oltmans from our country, I knew that he was suffering the fate of those who rattle cages. He had raised the hackles of the powers that be by reporting the explicit truth, when influential people preferred the truth to be hidden.

I stood on his side, testifying to his honesty, his objectivity, and his victimisation. I did what a friend would do and gave him my un-

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stinting support. But I had no power to stop the battle he was facing. I could only stand for truth. He had done the same for me.

We parted with deep sadness, but our friendship continued through letters right up to his passing in 2004. We were back to that original way of conversing, with pen and paper. It was as though our conversation had never been interrupted.

Now that his memoires are finally being published, I must express my gratitude to all those who have committed their time and attention to this massive project. Willem Oltmans was a prolific writer. But everything he wrote deserves to be read. There is something of value in every sentence.

I am honoured to have known this uniquely gifted man. May his life's work, and his integrity, continue to inspire young journalists, writers and visionaries.

PRINCE MANGOSUTHU BUTHELEZI MP

PRESIDENT OF THE INKATHA FREEDOM PARTY

FORMER MINISTER OF HOME AFFAIRS

TRADITIONAL PRIME MINISTER TO THE ZULU MONARCH AND NATION

REPUBLIC OF SOUTH AFRICA

22 MARCH 2019