/ 17 September 1999

No women or

lies at Loftus

Aaron Nicodemus

Promise Keepers South Africa, an offshoot of the conservative American Christian group that espouses “raising the standard” of male behavior, has made a promise of its own: it will fill Pretoria’s Minolta Loftus rugby stadium with 50 000 men this Saturday, all in search of God, self- respect and a group hug.

Although the Promise Keepers have set an R75 entry fee on their stadium event (including a meal), organisers recognise most South African men cannot afford it. Any man who wants to find God and improve his life, they say, is welcome to attend for free. Every man who makes a commitment to God gets his own New Testament Bible.

But women should stay home. This is a day for men.

Part of the Promise Keepers’s appeal is its linking of religion and sport. Founded by an American football coach, the group holds its events in huge sports stadiums, where men are traditionally free of social constraints that would usually prevent them from, say, painting their faces blue or urinating in public.

Take away the beer and the rugby, and the Promise Keepers event will be much like a normal Saturday at Loftus: men cheering, men singing, men tearfully confessing that they have cheated on their wives. Well, mostly normal.

Since 1990 Promise Keepers has attracted millions of men across the United States, Canada, Mexico, Germany, the United Kingdom, Australia and New Zealand. It is a well-funded group (raising R690-million in 1996 alone) backed by some of America’s most conservative institutions and preachers – the Christian Coalition and Jerry Falwell, to name two.

Promise Keepers is not a church or a cult, its adherents say, but an outlet for men to rediscover their role as head of the household and provider, as well as to improve their relationship with God, their families and their wife.

The group encourages men to keep seven basic promises: honouring God, pursuing vital relationships with other men, practicing moral and sexual purity, building strong marriages and families, supporting the mission of local churches, reaching beyond racial and denominational barriers and positively influencing their world.

The group’s call for men to “retake” their role as head of the household has drawn vocal opposition from the National Organisation for Women (Now) in the US, which claims the promise subjugates women.

The Promise Keepers is “the single biggest threat to women’s rights”, Now says on a section of its website dedicated to exposing the group’s “real agenda”. Now also takes the Promise Keepers to task for its anti-abortion stance, its homophobic rhetoric and its conservative right-wing politics.

Saturday’s launch of the Promise Keepers is its first foray into Africa. The organisation claims 40 000 men have already signed up for the big day. Buses of men will converge on Loftus from Mamelodi, Soshanguve, Johannesburg and Soweto, as well as small Free State towns like Henneman, Harmonie, Lindley and Welkom.

Fifty religious leaders from seven African countries will also attend to see if Promise Keepers can play a role in their congregations. “All of these men are expecting a miracle on the day,” the group’s press release proclaims.

Promise Keepers South Africa was officially established a year ago by former cricketeer Peter Pollock at the Rhema Church in Randburg. At first a largely white movement, its American supporters encouraged the group to be more multiracial before officially opening a Promise Keepers branch in the country.

Dr David Molapo is the chair of Promise Keepers South Africa. “Our families are crumbling. Daddies are not at home, they are not assuming responsibility,” he says. “Most South African men are soccer or rugby crazy, and most men don’t go to church. Men should get challenged with the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

Molapo, who found God in prison and later started the “I Can” Foundation in Johannesburg to help troubled youths, says Promise Keepers South Africa is about two things. One, being “men of integrity”, as most of the crime committed in the country is by men. And two, reconciliation, “going beyond skin color. We’re looking to see each other as brothers,” he says.

Promise Keepers plans to follow up on all its conversions of men in small men’s groups at local churches. The real work of Promise Keepers is done in local churches, Molapo says, one man at a time.

Molapo says Promise Keepers South Africa has distanced itself from the American original. He says Promise Keepers South Africa originally planned a follow-up rally at the rugby stadium, on Sunday, where families would be invited. “But we just couldn’t afford to bus everyone in for another day,” Molapo says. “We didn’t want to end up in debt.”

Jim Copeland, an American who is the group’s vice-president of international ministries, says South African men are no different from other men in the challenges they face at home, at work and in their personal relationships with God. “Men are pretty messed up everywhere,” he says. “There are a lot of wounded guys out there.”

Presumably many wounded guys will be at Loftus on Saturday, not for a rugby match but for a chance to “enthusiastically participate in a life-changing event” and to be challenged “to be the men they were born to become”.

Will South African women notice the difference?

Aaron Nicodemus

Promise Keepers South Africa, an offshoot of the conservative American Christian group that espouses “raising the standard” of male behavior, has made a promise of its own: it will fill Pretoria’s Minolta Loftus rugby stadium with 50 000 men this Saturday, all in search of God, self- respect and a group hug.

Although the Promise Keepers have set an R75 entry fee on their stadium event (including a meal), organisers recognise most South African men cannot afford it. Any man who wants to find God and improve his life, they say, is welcome to attend for free. Every man who makes a commitment to God gets his own New Testament Bible.

But women should stay home. This is a day for men.

Part of the Promise Keepers’s appeal is its linking of religion and sport. Founded by an American football coach, the group holds its events in huge sports stadiums, where men are traditionally free of social constraints that would usually prevent them from, say, painting their faces blue or urinating in public.

Take away the beer and the rugby, and the Promise Keepers event will be much like a normal Saturday at Loftus: men cheering, men singing, men tearfully confessing that they have cheated on their wives. Well, mostly normal.

Since 1990 Promise Keepers has attracted millions of men across the United States, Canada, Mexico, Germany, the United Kingdom, Australia and New Zealand. It is a well-funded group (raising R690-million in 1996 alone) backed by some of America’s most conservative institutions and preachers – the Christian Coalition and Jerry Falwell, to name two.

Promise Keepers is not a church or a cult, its adherents say, but an outlet for men to rediscover their role as head of the household and provider, as well as to improve their relationship with God, their families and their wife.

The group encourages men to keep seven basic promises: honouring God, pursuing vital relationships with other men, practicing moral and sexual purity, building strong marriages and families, supporting the mission of local churches, reaching beyond racial and denominational barriers and positively influencing their world.

The group’s call for men to “retake” their role as head of the household has drawn vocal opposition from the National Organisation for Women (Now) in the US, which claims the promise subjugates women.

The Promise Keepers is “the single biggest threat to women’s rights”, Now says on a section of its website dedicated to exposing the group’s “real agenda”. Now also takes the Promise Keepers to task for its anti-abortion stance, its homophobic rhetoric and its conservative right-wing politics.

Saturday’s launch of the Promise Keepers is its first foray into Africa. The organisation claims 40 000 men have already signed up for the big day. Buses of men will converge on Loftus from Mamelodi, Soshanguve, Johannesburg and Soweto, as well as small Free State towns like Henneman, Harmonie, Lindley and Welkom.

Fifty religious leaders from seven African countries will also attend to see if Promise Keepers can play a role in their congregations. “All of these men are expecting a miracle on the day,” the group’s press release proclaims.

Promise Keepers South Africa was officially established a year ago by former cricketeer Peter Pollock at the Rhema Church in Randburg. At first a largely white movement, its American supporters encouraged the group to be more multiracial before officially opening a Promise Keepers branch in the country.

Dr David Molapo is the chair of Promise Keepers South Africa. “Our families are crumbling. Daddies are not at home, they are not assuming responsibility,” he says. “Most South African men are soccer or rugby crazy, and most men don’t go to church. Men should get challenged with the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

Molapo, who found God in prison and later started the “I Can” Foundation in Johannesburg to help troubled youths, says Promise Keepers South Africa is about two things. One, being “men of integrity”, as most of the crime committed in the country is by men. And two, reconciliation, “going beyond skin color. We’re looking to see each other as brothers,” he says.

Promise Keepers plans to follow up on all its conversions of men in small men’s groups at local churches. The real work of Promise Keepers is done in local churches, Molapo says, one man at a time.

Molapo says Promise Keepers South Africa has distanced itself from the American original. He says Promise Keepers South Africa originally planned a follow-up rally at the rugby stadium, on Sunday, where families would be invited. “But we just couldn’t afford to bus everyone in for another day,” Molapo says. “We didn’t want to end up in debt.”

Jim Copeland, an American who is the group’s vice-president of international ministries, says South African men are no different from other men in the challenges they face at home, at work and in their personal relationships with God. “Men are pretty messed up everywhere,” he says. “There are a lot of wounded guys out there.”

Presumably many wounded guys will be at Loftus on Saturday, not for a rugby match but for a chance to “enthusiastically participate in a life-changing event” and to be challenged “to be the men they were born to become”.

Will South African women notice the difference?