Monarchy and the music festival
how this thing works, you have to understand a bit of Swazi politics. To raise political questions means losing friends. The way they are doing it is to get buy-in from the people who are in authority. The thinking is don’t make it political; it’s just pure entertainment for people who want entertainment.”
In this way, Makhubu said, Bushfire was little different from Swatis who just put their heads down and get on with life.
Nonetheless, the relationship between Bushfire and the government is changing, subtly but decisively, as the festival grows in size and prominence. eSwatini now needs Bushfire, and the foreign exchange-spending visitors it attracts, more than Bushfire needs eSwatini.
“Let me put it to you bluntly: what happened was white people fell in love with Bushfire. And now it’s an unstoppable train.
“It’s good for the country, it’s good for investment. It helps the authorities put out the message that Swaziland is good because here is something that we do that has an international profile worth writing home about. It’s working in that way,” said Makhubu.
Safe space
In the middle of the festival grounds, ringed off from the music stages and the food stalls, is the “bring your fire” zone — a demarcated space dedicated to environmental sustainability, sexual and reproductive health, queer rights and gender issues.
The Condomise Swaziland stall, decorated with inflated condoms, offers free HIV counselling and hands out free condoms — government-issued, vanilla flavoured — to passersby.
Nearby, the TransSwazi stall is unapologetically queer, as evidenced by the rainbow flag proudly displayed. It hands out pamphlets about queer rights, Swazi Pride bracelets and lube.
This was the only place in eSwatini where queer people were given the space to be who they were, said Pinty Dludlu, who was running the stall. “It is a sign that we are moving towards a better community, step by step, where everyone will be accepted irrespective of their gender or sexual orientation.”
As signs go, it is a significant one: this is a country, don’t forget, where the king once described homosexuality as “satanic”.
It’s not easy to be queer here. Canaries in the Coal Mines, a 2016 report, examined the depth and nature of social exclusion of women and men who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, transsexual and intersex (LGBTI) in Southern Africa. It found that only 26% of those surveyed in eSwatini said they would not mind having a homosexual neighbour. Although this figure is higher than in Zimbabwe (10%) or Malawi (6%), it is notably lower than that in other Southern African countries such as Mozambique (56%) and South Africa (67%).
For transgender people, acceptance is even less. The study found: “In several states, cross-dressing is criminalised as ‘concealment’ and this is used as a form of intimidation. In Swaziland, for example, LGBTI individuals are usually detained for such but then not charged. Transgender women are similarly victimised through laws criminalising sex work and soliciting.”
Efforts by Swati LGBTI groups to advocate for their rights often meet with fierce resistance. Thuthu Magagula, the acting director of Rock of Hope, a queer rights group, recalls a hostile meeting with church leaders. “It was a good platform of sharing and listening but later turned into a space where the church leaders wanted to discuss biblical verses and opinions, so tempers started flaring. Still, it was a necessary conversation to have because it gave us an opportunity to challenge their beliefs as well.”
In ultra-conservative eSwatini, Bushfire provides another, more friendly opportunity. The festival may avoid taking on the government or the monarchy directly but in giving a platform to alternative views it may ultimately play an even more subversive role.
And, like those hapless policemen ignoring drug deals in the parking lot, there’s not much the government can do about it. As long as Bushfire keeps bringing in the tourist dollars, it will also be free to bring its fire.