/ 27 January 1995

The traumatised in pursuit of the stigmatised

The National Party’s congress was a slick show but it will take more than a good stage performance to restore the NP to its former state, reports Gaye Davis

ENERGETIC tannies boogying to township jive, black speakers prefacing their inputs with cries of “Viva, NP, viva!”, the multi-lingual phrase booklet in every delegate’s blue congress briefcase — all testified to the National Party’s attempts to reinvent itself.

Delegates to the NP’s federal congress last weekend could buy scarves emblazoned with the new sunshine logo and designer new South African flag ties. They could also buy a five-part history of the NP. Yet, despite MP Danie Schutte’s enthusiastic assertion that the NP had the “broadest support base” of any party, it was clear from delegates’ inputs that that base was barely substantial. Many delegates must have asked themselves whether there would be much more NP history to record.

A black delegate wanted to know from the floor whether it wasn’t possible to change the NP’s name to the Sunshine Municipal Organisation for local government elections. This would get around the problem of the stigma the NP’s name carried in both black and white areas, he said. His suggestion went nowhere, but went to the heart of the challenge facing the NP as it tries to deal with the concerns of its traumatised, diminished white support-base and the aspirations of its new members.

“The top structure of the party is still too white,” complained a Western Cape delegate and former Labour Party MP. “The executive (all but three members are white) is aware of that, and we realise it’s difficult for them to deal with. People from other cultures and races are only now moving into the party. They must first learn and improve themselves and then they can move up. But people on the ground want to see it happening now.”

Tucking into a curry lunch in the cavernous World Trade Centre, three women delegates mused on the state of their party and its future: “It’s a scandal how few whites come to meetings,” said one, a woman from a Cape West Coast town. “Black and brown people come — but they’re afraid to play an active role because they’re scared of intimidation. And the whites seem to think that by paying their subscription fees and voting that they’re doing enough.”

A fellow delegate, pondering the NP’s prospects in local government elections, blamed the NP’s failure to properly train its people on the ground so they could position themselves more effectively in transitional local councils. Her town’s new mayor, she said, was a former farmworker, a simple labourer. Yet the ANC had trained him, and as mayor he had “every fact at his fingertips”. The NP should have done the same, she said. Without information and training, she asked, “how are we going to win the battle over Model C schools, where education standards are going to drop because there are 50 children in a class?”

These women had grown up with the NP, in unquestioning obedience to the diktat of the party hierarchy. Congress used to mean respectfully listening to NP ministers spelling out policy decisions taken by the party elite, then carefully noting down specific instructions for action at branch level. Now, the branches themselves were faltering.

Black delegates spoke of the need “for as much information as possible for the black population so they’re not led by other parties to vote for their bosses and chiefs”. White delegates wanted policy guidelines for local government elections. Could informal settlements not be seen as separate areas, asked a Lenasia delegate, anxious about the Nat vote being eroded with everyone on the same voters’ roll. What about a place like Brandfort, asked another delegate, where everyone voted for one council and there were 2 000 whites and 14 000 anderskleuriges (people of other colours)? They had to be told that everyone had an equal vote.

And the format of congress itself had changed. Delegates split up into groups for simultaneous discussions on broad themes — education, the economy, security and so on. Ministers made much, when reporting back in plenaries, of the value of delegates’ inputs — after all, congress was the highest decision-making body of the party. But it was also evident that delegates felt a little like learner cyclists with the training wheels off for the first time.

MP Chris Fismer, newly appointed minister of General Services, alluded to the need for delegates to shake off their accustomed dependency. Urging them to campaign for human rights’ awareness so members could counter any assault on their language, cultural and other minority rights, he told them the days of passively expecting the government to protect them, of NP congresses making “friendly requests” to the government for action on this or that, were over.

Party faithfuls’ bemusement at the NP’s loss of power, at the changed political terrain, filtered inexorably through the proceedings.

Whatever NP leader FW de Klerk had to say about the “severe insult” meted out to him in cabinet by President Nelson Mandela, the row gave him a heaven-sent opportunity to stand before delegates and demonstrate he was no easily cowed ANC lapdog.

Many delegates, however, were unhappy he didn’t walk out of the government of national unity. (They clearly had less to lose than those who applauded the decision to make “a fresh start”.)

“Voters like a party that fights,” a delegate from Benoni observed. Responding to Western Cape Premier Hernus Kriel’s proposal that power-sharing be entrenched in the new constitition, she echoed the views of many when she said she believed it would lead to diminished support for the NP. She was concerned about the NP’s visibility; as an opposition party, being in the GNU had benefits but also meant the NP often acted to the ANC’s political advantage — at the cost of its own profile, she said to applause.

During a forum on security, delegates told how difficult it was for potential supporters to openly express their support; how complaints of intimidation were ignored by police, many of whom, they found, now supported the ANC. All the party leadership could do was urge members to call Crimestop, to get involved in community policing forums and to fight for the right to freedom of political expression.

De Klerk ended on a brave note: “We’re not a defeated party,” he told delegates. “We’re not satisfied with second place. We’ll win again.” He was given a standing ovation and left the stage to a pounding disco beat amid whirling multi-coloured spotlights. It was a well- organised congress; NP congresses usually are. But it will take more than stagecraft to restore the NP party machine to its erstwhile well-oiled state.