Some may find it odd that many in South Africa are this week celebrating the birthday of an organisation that does not exist. Others, who were much closer to the United Democratic Front (UDF), would find it odd that the 20th anniversary celebrations are, in fact, so muted, given the impact of that organisation on the country’s history.
It all depends where you come from. Those who were part of the UDF and its allied organisations know it was the vehicle that turned a lethargic anti-apartheid effort into a highly mobile mass-based struggle. Reviving mass organisation in the post-Rivonia and post-1977 crushing of the freedom struggle, the UDF employed tactics and strategies that were to ensure that the Nats would never again be allowed to fully silence opposition.
Sadly the UDF legacy has faded into historical obscurity and that famous acronym is hardly ever mentioned when stories of triumph over apartheid are told.
The UDF presided over a golden era in the South African liberation struggle. It was an era in which the language of Trevor Manuel was one of organisational rather than fiscal discipline, when Mosiuoa (don’t we all miss Terror?) Lekota led mass formations rather than military formations, when Cyril Ramaphosa wrestled with Bobby Godsell over the upliftment of the working classes instead of hopping off to sign the next empowerment deal.
It was a glorious time, when we dreamed brave dreams: of freedom, of equality and — dare we say it today — of socialism.
It was also a brutal time, when PW Botha made sure those dreams were tampered with. Thousands were imprisoned, tortured and killed during that era as the National Party regime saw its rope get shorter and shorter. Others simply disappeared, their bones only to be unearthed by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, while many still remain unaccounted for.
Yet the spirit that drove the leaders, members and supporters of the UDF was not broken. Dreams continued to be dreamed, battles continued to be fought. And thus was kept alive the faith of the people of South Africa that the prison bars would be broken and the exiles would return home to build a caring republic.
The unique legacy of the UDF should serve as an inspiration to oppressed peoples everywhere. The tactics and strategies of this formation should compel the Zimbabwean and Swazi people to realise that they will not remove their despotic leaders by wailing and lamely appealing for outside pressure to be applied. It should also inspire the people of Palestine, Burma and Saharawi to believe that oppression and injustice do not always triumph in the end.
Cynics will argue that to lament the UDF is to romanticise a bygone era. We all know that the world has changed and that the tactics of the anti-apartheid struggle cannot be transplanted into a free society. We cannot today expect clergymen to preach revolution in places of worship, youths to stand at street corners debating Grasmci, or our artists to produce ”relevant” works.
That would be to negate the achievements of the liberation struggle.
For us, in a post-liberation South Africa seeking its soul again, a glimpse back to the UDF era shows us those qualities and values that we should entrench and carry forward: free thought, non-racialism, the ability to challenge authority, the value of participatory democracy and encouragement of the multiplicity of ideas.
And as we head towards the second decade of our democracy we should recapture the spirit that enabled us not to fear dreaming.
Oh, for a happy ending …
Only paint companies and media houses are likely to be happy about the constant media attention being given to a rural boy who may or may not be white.
Until he came along the world went on happily in the knowledge that there were some among us who did not know who our real parents were.
Unhappily, authorities were even prepared to scale borders and extend the search for the boy’s father into Zimbabwe, just to bring happiness to him.
All of us would be happy if this story were finally to be put to bed.
Which brings us to the latest episode; we hear that a teenage mother almost made our guy even more unhappy when she named him as father of her unborn child.
The alleged father, the same youngster looking for his real parents, it appears, found it inconceivable that he could have impregnated anyone. He was naturally unhappy with the news. Happily, the young mother-to-be has now said she was only joking.
How happy all of us would be if the whole saga turned out to be a joke too.
Oh, what a happy day it will be when people who achieve or fail to achieve, make news, not the question of who their parents may or may not be. We indeed wish for a story with a happy ending.