/ 30 April 2010

The land is for all to enjoy

It is a cold, wet night and black clouds are gathering again. There are five of us and we order two bottles of cabernet sauvignon at Niki’s Oasis in Newtown, Johannesburg.

With us is Mandla, an IT specialist and a Black Consciousness exponent who claims to have used his work in the struggle against white domination.

We have just been to the Barney Simon Theatre to watch Death of a Colonialist, which eloquently expresses painful truths about land dispossession and ownership in South Africa.

We nibble on a platter of fish, lamb, chicken and chips, wash it down with the wine and plunge into a post-mortem of the play.

Mandla refers to an article in the Mail & Guardian by former PAC parliamentarian Dr Motsoko Pheko, with its “correct” analysis that the ANC sold out on the issue of land: “It is now 16 years of so-called freedom under the ANC government, but they have failed to get back our land from whites. There is no freedom to celebrate as long as African people have not regained their land to own everything that comes from it.”

During the course of the evening we’ve talked about Jamie Bartlett (of Rhythm City fame), outstanding acting talent, the future of theatre, corporate politics and even failed marriages. We’ve delved into the black psyche — just as Death of a Colonialist lays bare the soul of white people and suggests they too are haunted by the land question.

But it weighs heavily on our minds. Someone asks the deejay to play us more bluesy jazz. Mandla looks everybody in the eye, demanding confirmation that we agree with Pheko: no freedom without land ownership.

Finally, the deejay soberly appears to accept what cannot be changed.

“Oh, I’m sure freedom is more important than the ownership of the land. We are free. Those who claim there is no freedom are entitled to their misguided perceptions,” he says.

He orders another two bottles of wine and it is well after midnight when Mandla insists that the ANC and its black bourgeoisie have abdicated their responsibility to repossess the land.

But who really gives a damn about the ownership of the land? In Death of a Colonialist, the history teacher, Harold Smith (Bartlett), suggests that history is just an unending series of thefts by one group from another.

Land ownership in South Africa is about “who stole from whom”: Was it the Khoi from the Bushmen, the Bantu from the Khoi, the Afrikaners from the Bantu, the English from the Afrikaners and, ultimately, the whites from the blacks?

Unfortunately, this is an awkward perspective: it weakens black people’s (and especially Africanist) land claim rights. We need to examine that — but none of us is interested in the history of who owned the land before 1652 or what happened as a result of the Land Act of 1913.

What was spoiling our enjoyment of theatre, wine and good company was the idea that there is no freedom without land ownership. But this needs a deeper assessment.

In the past 16 years the significance of April 27 has been demeaned and ironically that has become part of the meaning of freedom and democracy. It is mostly those who are anti-ANC or opposed to the Mandela-negotiated settlement who have a reputation for equating “freedom” with “selling out”. Pursuing their own political agendas, they harp on that Africans have been dispossessed of their land.

The impulse to sneer at Freedom Day and to strip it of its historical significance is adolescent and readily pursued by those who consider themselves pan-Africanist radicals.

What is there to gain by tying the meaning of Freedom Day to land ownership? Yes, whites stole the land from Africans, but it is not every white who owns the land or monopolises its wealth.

Those who monopolise land and its wealth must not use it for personal enrichment and the entrenchment of false property rights. As the Freedom Charter says, the land belongs to all who live in it, black and white. For our hard-won peace to be guaranteed and our society to be normal, the land and its mineral wealth should be used to enhance the quality of life for all.

The true meaning of freedom will fade quickly if black and white fight each other over something that ultimately does not belong to them. The land is the Creator’s gift not only to our ancestors but to humanity. We are all here to live on and enjoy the land and what it has to offer and to leave it for those who come after us.

In social and political circles the lack of resolve on land prompts some self-proclaimed pan-Africanist radicals to provoke us by undermining the meaning of freedom. April 27 liberated us from our historical baggage of racism, injustice and conflict. We need to thank gadflies such as Mandla and Pheko for their political vigilance but we must demand that the government and the descendants of colonialists act urgently on the land issue.

Freedom Day imposes a collective responsibility on us all to create a better society where we will live in peace, unity and democracy. And we do not want to deprive ourselves of profound theatre and a bottle of wine just because not all of us are landowners.

Sandile Memela is an author and a senior marketing manager for the national department of arts and culture. He writes in his personal capacity