What do South Africa’s ”born frees” – who came into the world after the death of apartheid, or were too young to remember it – know about their country’s traumatic past? Have our children been changed by 12 years of democracy?
From their vague responses it was clear that the details of South Africa’s violent and divided past have become somewhat misty for the free-born. Perhaps the most knowledgeable answer to the question ”What was apartheid?” came from Jaydee Verster, a 14-year-old white pupil from Jeppe High School for Boys in Johannesburg.
”Whites were racist to black people and didn’t let them go to certain toilets and sit on certain benches. They were also not allowed to play certain sports,” began Verster excitedly. ”They were in jail and when they died, they (the apartheid regime) said they killed themselves or went on hunger strike. Most of them were on Robben Island.”
Of all the kids we spoke to in and around Johannesburg, Verster was the only one who associated apartheid with Robben Island.
His counterpart, 14-year-old Nkhensani Mdakane from Fidelitas High School in Diepkloof, Soweto, thought of Robben Island more as a tourist destination.
The most clear-cut attitude was a widespread lack of interest in politics, a belief in racial equality, adoration of the United States and admiration of Nelson Mandela.
Political disenchantment was expressed more vociferously in some cases than others. ”Politicians, all they do is talk rubbish,” said Dylan Gerber (14), a white pupil at Parktown Boys High in Johannesburg.
Thabiso Mncwabe (14), from Fidelitas High, offered a sombre reason for his indifference. ”Political matters have resulted in many councillors getting killed.”
This may reflect Mncwabe’s origins in the former killing fields of Pietermaritzburg. His hero was Jacob Zuma. ”I like him, he’s one of us.” Pushed for clarification, he added: ”He’s a black person. He’s a good leader.”
Although most children affirmed their belief in the equality of the races, Verster went a step further, remarking: ”Black people are cool. He’s my best friend,” he said, pointing to schoolmate Ricky Tshabalala.
Tshabalala, while espousing the same ideals as his friend, is disappointed by the racial cliquishness he sees around him. ”Sometimes, like in school, the white group will sit alone and the black group will sit alone. They make jokes that discriminate about colour,” he said.
His black pal, Daniel Gatenye, brushed this off, emphasising the lighter side of group relations. ”Here at school we only use race jokingly,” he countered.
Most kids interviewed were shockingly naive about the world and global politics. In particular, they have a fantasy view of the United States as the land of milk and honey. ”There are better opportunities there and less poverty,” said Nomkhosi Nhlapo, a grade nine pupil at Lofentse High School in Orlando, Soweto.
Yanga Nkhonza (13), of Vector College in the Johannesburg city centre, said he would like to go to New York to see what the people looked like there.
Mncwabe, the young Zuma supporter, also wanted to visit the US ”to see a lot of things and learn about them” so that he could return and help black people.
Mandela, it appeared, was revered as the quintessential hero for helping to rid South Africa of apartheid. Bathobile Maseko, from Lofentse High School, had a somewhat unexpected response: ”My hero is [kwaito singer] Zola,” she said, as we sat in her teacher’s office. ”He has motivated me in many ways and he is more of a people’s person.”
Maseko wanted to visit Zimbabwe because she couldn’t comprehend ”why they let him [Robert Mugabe] do these things for them. I want to know why every election, he wins.”
Interviewees in suburban schools, such as Jeppe, were colour-blind to the point of confusion. The boisterous Tshabalala referred to affirmative action as ”weird”. ”I don’t like it, he complained. ”We need to be equal.”
Inner-city learners feel that the level of racism has declined in South Africa.
”I think apartheid still happens in South Africa,” protested Ayanda Manana from Vector College. ”The Afrikaners are the most racist. They treat black people very badly.”
Her township school counterparts hold the same views. Zola’s fan Maseko also fingered Afrikaners. ”When we visit a place where there are Boers, they don’t treat us with respect.”
Muslim pupils in Durban seemed to be more politically aware. Sixteen-year-old Sumaya Hendricks from Orient Islamic School, for example, had a more profound understanding of apartheid. ”I think other than all the history that they put into history books, you know, the policies they implemented – The Land Act, et cetera – I think it went much deeper than that,” she argued. ”If you look at the other countries which were also colonised by Britain, like Canada and Australia, they are First World countries now. If it was not for apartheid, we wouldn’t have the unemployment problem, the crime rate that we have now. Essentially apartheid hindered our progress as a nation.”
To exemplify apartheid, she described how her father was forcibly removed from Cape Town’s District Six. ”It was him and his 11 brothers and sisters,” she recalled. ”Also the job opportunities weren’t very good, so he had to do odd jobs.”
Perhaps because of KwaZulu-Natal’s 10-year civil war, even rural pupils in the province seemed more politically sophisticated. Khulilile Maphumulo (18), of Lihlithemba Secondary School, Ndwedwe, described apartheid as ”like when white people were making black, Indian and coloured people slaves”.
Maphumulo says he is very interested in politics, declaring passionately that Freedom Day ”is all the people who sacrificed for us to be free today”. Although he does not like President Thabo Mbeki, he concedes that the government is ”okay” and ”better than the previous one”.
Like his counterparts in Gauteng, he is a non-racial idealist who doesn’t ”see a problem with any sort of colour. I see a person as a person, not like in the colour of their skin or anything.”