Friday, 3 October 1986: “Botswana has Marxists and other people who shouldn’t be there”

Gaborone, Botswana, 18 May 1987

In the campground that morning, I had a brief conversation with a middle aged white South African who turned out to be an agricultural consultant.  “Nobody likes us South Africans,” he said.  When he found out where I was working, he told me he no longer felt welcome in Botswana as South Africans were now required to have visas to travel there.  I hadn’t heard that and wondered if it was true or a rumor. 

In contrast to the mostly boring terrain I’d covered the day before, Friday’s travels proved to be very interesting.  Heading east from Pietersburg on Highway R71, I soon found myself in part of Lebowa, one of South Africa’s black “homelands” which has not chosen to become independent.  It was early morning and bus load upon bus load of blacks were travelling west, probably to jobs in Pietersburg. 

View northwest from a hill above Highway R71.  A semi-arid landscape west of the town of Boyne in the Lebowa “homeland” of northern South Africa.  My ill-fated ’78 VW Passat station wagon is parked at the side of the highway. 

 

I stopped briefly at the outside edge of the University of the North.  It was a modern campus and the largest university in South Africa for blacks, according to my SATOUR guide book which noted that prior arrangements had to be made for visits.  Despite the attractive architecture, the campus had the appearance of a minimum security prison.  A high fence surrounded the perimeter and the entrance gate was protected by concertina wire and armed security guards.  I snuck around a corner of the fence and shot a quick photo of the uninviting entrance gate hoping like hell no one would see me.  I was back in the VW in a flash and wasted no time in getting the hell out of there. 

The April 8, 1987 issue of the Chronicle of Higher Education reports that the university has been occupied by South African military forces and the Lebowa Police since June 1986.  Students assemble under surveillance in the main hall each morning and are allowed to leave only to attend lectures.  I can just imagine how grim it would be working as a lecturer in this situation.  Not much chance of that as all university employees are required to have security clearances.

Continuing east through the dry, hilly landscape, I came upon Zion City Moria, the seat of the Zion Christian Church.  My guidebook pointed out that the ZCC is the largest black denomination in South Africa.  A sign at the entrance gate said “no photos” so I got a telephoto of the facility from the highway.  I was familiar with the church as I’d seen a number of blacks wearing silver stars engraved with the letters “ZCC” and pinned to green ribbons.

View northeast from Magoebaskloof Pass.  A very winding Highway R71 is steeply descending from the Central Plateau into the low veld (lowlands).  The African rondovals (round cottages) on the left are located within a resort property. 

 

The road climbed into lovely forested mountains, then dropped over the crest of Drakensberg escarpment into a valley.  Lush vegetation made it apparent that the climate here was much more humid than 50 km to the west.  It was overcast and the morning air felt heavy with moisture.  Groups of black workers with yellow baskets on their backs picked tea leaves on verdant hillsides.

Tea pickers west of the town of Tzaneen.

 

From the town of Tzaneen, I drove south about 15 km to the New Agatha State Forest.  After registering with a friendly ranger who provided me with a trail map, I took off for a short afternoon hike through forested hillsides.  The trail led to a pleasant stream and small waterfall.

 

Looking southwest up the Groot-Letaba River just west of Tzaneen.  The river flows northeasterly and joins the Olifants River near the border with Mozambique.    

 

After returning to Tzaneen, I made a petrol stop and saw my engine oil level was down so I bought a ½ liter can and topped it off.  I drove northwest 85 km, rejoined the N1 and headed north toward Louis Trichardt, a small town on the south end of the east-west trending Soutpansberg mountain range.  Just before reaching the town, I saw a sign pointing to the Ben Lavin Nature Reserve, my planned campsite for the night.  It was at least 10 km of dirt road into the campground and once there I elected to skip dinner in town and cooked up a freeze-dried meal with my Bluet stove.  I had no beer with me, so after eating I approached a family camped close by to see if they could sell me a tin or two.  They were John, his wife, Granny, and two kids from Springs, an industrial city east of Jo’burg.  John would hear none of my paying them for beer and asked me to join them.  They were an English-speaking family and seemed fairly South African generic middle class.  John and the wife (whose name escapes me) were probably mid-30s.  They were here for a week’s vacation and were sleeping in a good-sized caravan (travel trailer).

I told them I was working in Botswana and really enjoyed life there so far.  The wife immediately threw cold water on my positive comments noting that Malawi was “a far better example” for Africa than Botswana.  She added that Malawi was far more developed and democratic than Botswana.  I had to disagree, pointing out that Botswana has the highest GNP in black Africa and a democratically-elected government whereas Malawi is ruled by Hastings Banda, an autocratic president-for-life.  She completely ignored this information and went on to say that “Botswana has Marxists and other people who shouldn’t be there.”  She switched the subject to Zimbabwe (calling it “Rhodesia”, the old name from the pre-1980 period of white minority rule) and alluded to security problems there.  “That’s what happens in an African country whenever you have two different tribes.”  South African whites often like to point out that African tribes don’t get along with each other.  It justifies their belief that black rule in South Africa would automatically degenerate into intertribal warfare.  I asked if she had ever travelled in Zimbabwe, Botswana, or Malawi.  She had never travelled anywhere outside of South Africa. 

As usual I let her have her say without much argument.  It was better to listen, letting her make an uninformed ass of herself.  I sure as hell wasn’t going to change her mind about African politics no matter what information I cited.  No use to confuse her with the facts:  She listens to South African government propaganda. 

What I could have said was something like, “You’re right.   The Shona and Ndebele, the two largest tribes in Zimbabwe, have been at each other’s throats for many years.  The Shona live mostly in northern Zimbabwe and the Ndebele in the south.  It’s not their fault that the British colonists, led by the imperialist Cecil Rhodes, grouped these mutually hostile tribes into one territory nearly 100 years ago and now they are stuck with each other in one country.  This was a mess (as are many of the messes in Africa) created by the 19^th Century European colonizers who divided up the African pie with no regard to various tribal areas.  Don’t you think the white descendants of the colonizers of South Africa should acknowledge these injustices and try to do more to bring about reconciliation among the various African ethnic groups?  Instead they imply that black Africans are inherently violent barbarians.” 

John and Granny pretty much stayed out of the dispute.  Fortunately, we didn’t get into domestic South African politics which, I had learned after six months, would have been like beating one’s  head against a brick wall (It feels so good when you stop!).  After a few minutes, we moved on to safer subjects such as the wildlife they had seen in the park.  Readers, please take note that these were very warm hospitable folks.  They were not overt racists or right-wing AWB (neo-Nazi) fanatics.  Yet, thousands of innocuous white South Africans like them keep the present government in power.  What will it take to get them to open their minds and hearts?  Find me an answer that works, and I’ll recommend you for a Nobel Peace Prize!