FROM this distant democracy, I, South African by birth, acclaim the exhilarating events that have regenerated South Africa and electrified the world. I recall with enormous sadness those who fell, or were thrown, from the windows of Marshall Square and elsewhere, down staircases and on to concrete floors, in stultification of their brave bids to defy intimidation and win out at the end. Especially poignant are those who fell veritably at the finishing post _ like Chris Hani.
But I recall, too, an earlier South Africa, of the 1940s and 1950s and early 1960s. I recall names of those who never had the privilege of membership of the ANC but represented a small brave band of white men and women who stuck their necks out and bucked the trend.
I wonder how many others still remember a time when “liberal” was not a word to sneer at and people like the Ballingers, the Hoernles, the Buntings, Trevor Huddlestone, Leo Marquard, Edward Roux, Alan Paton. Patrick Duncan, Peter Brown, and, later, those like Sheena Duncan, and, of course, Helen Suzman, were respected by those who already then yearned (and strove) for justice and were denounced by those who then governed, and almost all of those who then voted.
Sure, it would be great to see Jan Smuts Airport renamed Chris Hani Airport. It would be more satisfying to see DF Malan Airport renamed Chris Hani Airport. It would be very nice to see an airport called Jan H Hofmeyer Airport.
It would be nice to see some place called Black Sash Place.
President Nelson Mandela, with the infinite majesty that is now a veritable trademark, gave a lead in invoking the memory of Ingrid Jonker during inauguration. Let’s not forget to include all deserving souls. _ Jack Aaron, Vancouver, Canada