Sober or not, the gathering of about 1 000 Afrikaners on Tuesday to commemorate the victory of their ancestors over Zulu King Dingane’s army 165 years ago at the Battle of Blood River was like a lacquered, waterlogged unreality.
The celebrations kicked off at the river, about 40km north of Dundee in KwaZulu-Natal, last Friday amid the original ox-wagon laager, with the up-to-date addition of Mercedes-Benzes, Land Rovers, Toyota bakkies and caravans. Dome-shaped army tents pitched under 19th-century South African flags dotted the landscape.
The owners of the flags, staunch Afrikaners wearing the original Voortrekker gear — straw hats, neck cloths, waistcoats, leather trousers and animal hide veldskoene — talked war and assured many willing ears that on the day of the battle in 1838 the Boers defeated 40 000 Zulus and not the 10 000 claimed by modern history books.
These deeply religious Afrikaners ascribe their victory not to their technically superior weapons at the time but to God. ”A covenant forged in blood,” said one man between a cup of coffee and a plump vetkoek. The pledge taken on the day of the battle was that Afrikaners would commemorate their victory annually.
And nearly two centuries later they believe even more firmly that white predominance over blacks is God’s will.
Prayers paying tribute to the Divine Will were punctuated with periodic references to ”kaffirs”, suggesting the Day of Reconciliation has a long way to go before the whole nation interprets it the same way.
”On 27 April 1994 we lost our right to self-determination and freedom when we became part of the same authority that governs all the citizens of South Africa … The new South Africa with its liberals is moving further and further away from the word of God,” said Dr Willie Marais, the reverend who gave the sermon, in Afrikaans, on Tuesday morning.
To rubberstamp his rhetoric, about 40 horses carrying beefy riders who called each other kommandant (commander) and carried the same South African flags came beating down the gravel road that led into the commemoration site. They had travelled 70km retracing the original route the Voortrekkers took to Blood River. As they arrived the commemorators shouted gutturally ”Boer, Boer, Boer”, while little boys with plastic guns stood to attention.
In a twist of irony, four cars filled with black families followed the horses through the cheering crowds.
”We are inquisitive,” said the driver of one car as he drove past guffawing.
”Wat doen hierdie swaart bobbejane hier? Hulle is kaffirs. Daar is geen ander woord vir hulle [What are these black baboons doing here? They are kaffirs there is no other word for them],” said one woman with a look of persecuted astonishment.
Later, Kommandant Gerhard Combrink, the head commander, a greying man with a gunpowder horn and muzzle loader strapped across his back, laid a wreath for the Boeremag, whom he proclaimed as ”brave men fighting for the cause”.
Across the river, the ululating cries of Zulu women, the beating of drums and the loud crunching of their dancing feet on the ground offered a stark contrast to the religious pall in the laager. The after-effects of history were glaring as both groups celebrated the same epochal event yet blatantly ignored each other.
”The Europeans stand there and the Zulus stand here. I don’t know what is going on,” said MM Sithole, a Zulu chief draped in thick animal skins. ”We need to work together, to reconcile. The Europeans must come over here!”
While King Goodwill Zwelithini and Minister of Home Affairs Mangosuthu Buthelezi were pampered and fed by the Zulus, former South African president PW Botha — the ”Groot Krokodil”, and now a frail man leaning on a walking stick — was with the Boers to celebrate the ”Afrikaner bloodline”. And in an act of startling goodwill he crossed the river to the Zulus for a sojourn on Tuesday.
Looking to the future, Marais told his congregation to return home and form committees in all the country’s dorpies to keep the Afrikaners and their cause connected. On the other side of the river, Sithole dished out mini-South African flags and orange juice to each new bus arriving jam-packed with ”our impis” — our Zulu warriors.