Kathrada still sets a fine example for us
THIS past week, South Africa commemorated the 50th anniversary of the Liliesleaf raid. The apartheid police raid on Liliesleaf Farm and subsequent arrest of Walter Sisulu, Ahmed Kathrada, Govan Mbeki, Raymond Mhlaba, Denis Goldberg, Elias Motsoaledi, Andrew Mlangeni and Bob Hepple was a salient moment in our history. What was to be their last meeting to discuss Operation Mayibuye — the plan to overthrow the government — became the beginning of South Africa’s tumultuous transition. It set the tone for the famous Rivonia trial, which finally focused unrelenting world scrutiny on the pariah state led by an oppressive regime.
I had the pleasure of speaking to distinguished Rivonia trialist Kathrada as he reflected on the past and present. He has a gentle yet formidable presence, and speaking to him leaves you in no doubt that the architects of our democracy were driven by a bigger force — an allconsuming fire to change South Africa. They were fallible human beings with weaknesses, I am sure, but what motivated them to risk their lives and leave their families behind were not selfinterest, grandstanding or ambition. Their politics were quite different from what we see today, when greed and
Their politics were quite different from what we see today
ambition supercede the quest for a better life for all. Kathy, as he is affectionately known, pulled at our heartstrings as he talked about the personal sacrifices and the deprivation they suffered behind the stifling walls of Robben Island. It never crossed their minds to regret the role they had played — they were all unanimous that they would do it all over again if given a chance. I asked him whether prison was hard and his answer was an unsurprising “prison is hard, but prison is a state of mind”.
Kathrada then told me they were not allowed newspapers for 25 years because their jailers were determined to cut them off from the world. As he narrated the story, there was not a dry eye in the studio when he shared memories of the discrimination that was meted out against inmates and among comrades. The coloured and Indian prisoners were allowed bread during meals, but black prisoners like Nelson Mandela and Mbeki were not. So significant was this discrimination that it became the title of his memoirs from prison: No Bread For Mandela.
He had strong words for those who say Mandela sold out. He called them peacetime heroes who offer no alternative. But, equally, he felt strongly that there is no excuse for the abuse of public funds and the corruption that delays delivery to those who are most desperate and have been waiting for years for a chance to experience relief from the shackles of disease and poverty.
There were no slogans or platitudes when he spoke. I got a sense that this was a man who, together with his comrades 50 years ago, had a sincere drive to achieve “a better life for all” and that his interest has not waned. At the Rivonia trial, while being cross-examined by the muchmaligned Percy Yutar, acting for the state, Kathrada was asked what can only be seen as a question dripping with racial prejudice and assumptions: “Do you know about the suffering of the people in India?” Kathrada answered: “In India? I know about the suffering of my people in this country where I was born. I don’t know anything about India . . . I live in South Africa. I suffer from the laws in South Africa. My objection is to what goes on to me and my people.”
Today’s “leaders” need to be infused with the same spirit of putting people first and themselves last. They must commit to clean governance and social justice. Children dying of preventable diseases and being denied textbooks, tenders awarded fraudulently and all the rot that besets the country erode everything for which these gallant fighters fought so hard. That is what we today must remember about oppression and discrimination: it invalidates the humanity of the oppressed and denies them even the most basic rights. Comment on this: write to tellus@sundaytimes.co.za or SMS us at 33971