Marianne Merten
General Constand Viljoen hit the campaign trail in the Western Cape this week without bodyguards, motor cavalcades, delays or the usual politician’s razzmatazz. Asked about his punctuality, so unlike many other politicians, he confessed jokingly: “I’m no politician.”
Although there were no babies to be hugged or toddlers to be kissed, he smiled and greeted people crossing his path. Whether talking to shoppers in one of Cape Town’s numerous malls or investigating the lot of poor Afrikaners living in boarding houses, the Freedom Front leader remained quietly passionate about his cause.
His first stop was boarding houses in one of the Mother City’s previously prestigious suburbs, now fallen on hard times, Maitland. There he visited former mental hospital patients who are living as lodgers since budget cuts at mental institutions meant their being housed in the community.
Approaching a dilapidated former mansion, a frown appeared on Viljoen’s face. His concern increased when he saw four beds in each of the six rooms and the living room, bare concrete floors and just one bathroom for 14 people.
He spoke softly to the residents, asking about living conditions. Miempie smiled. Another resident assured Viljoen the food was good. But the frown stayed.
The wife of the boarding house manager burst into tears when she saw the general in her own home at the back of the lodging house.
Sylvia van Niekerk admitted she initially thought he was another lodger. “It’s the first time in my life I’ve met someone so important.”
The little woman dressed in a housecoat stood overwhelmed on the sitting room’s linoleum floor, amid pink porcelain dogs. Sensing Viljoen’s dismay over the living conditions, she reassured him: “We are poor, but we live clean.”
Conditions at another boarding house clearly shocked Viljoen. Shaking hands with bed-ridden Uncle Jack he could only ask where he was born. Vereeniging, Transvaal, was the answer. “Sterkte [Strength]” was the general’s response. Outside Viljoen said the government must do something to help. Although these people are not part of the majority, they also need upliftment.
“It is shocking. We often try to solve the bigger problems of the country. We forget what goes on at ground level.”
After laying a wreath at the Statue of the Fallen Soldier in Bellville, it was lunch and then on to the shopping mall. Again he arrived in a little white car with the FF’s only Western Cape MPL as chauffeur. Other party members joined him for the walkabout. Heads turned and shoppers took a second look to make sure the man in the grey suit was really the one often seen on television.
For a group from Stellenbosch, their meeting with Viljoen was an added attraction to their visit. The men in white shirts and hats crowded around the general. The women stayed in the background waiting for their chance to chat.
Afterwards Paul Slangers said it was the first time he had met the general. Although he dodged the question whether he would vote for the man advocating Afrikaner rights, Slangers gave Viljoen credit for standing up for his beliefs. “He fights very hard.”
Hanti Muton did not expect to meet Viljoen. “He’s a nice guy,” he said after chatting to the general for a while.
A woman’s smile stopped Viljoen for a brief chat and advice on how to make sure she could vote even if she was outside Cape Town on June 2. The woman didn’t want to give her name, but said: “I’m seriously considering voting for him.”
Outside the mall, party faithful manned a stand with FF matchboxes, stickers, balloons, a video and campaign literature. Viljoen wished them strength before leaving.
Then the grey-suited, white-haired general soldiered on in the cause of the Afrikaner.