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SOCIAL MEMORY AS A FORCE
FOR SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC
TRANSFORMATION
SOCIAL MEMORY AS A FORCE
FOR SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC
TRANSFORMATION

Edited by MUXE NKONDO

Unisa Press and Freedom Park

Pretoria
First published 2023
by Routledge
4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN
and by Routledge
605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2023 University of South Africa
The right of contributors to be identified as authors of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77
and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any
electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording,
or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for
identification and explanation without intent to infringe.
Print edition not for sale in Africa
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 9781032434445 (hbk)
ISBN: 9781032434452 (pbk)
ISBN: 9781003367369 (ebk)
DOI: 10.4324/9781003367369
Typeset in Franklin Gothic Book
by UNISA Press, South Africa
 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thoughts about the material of the volume of essays developed in large part through
year-long deliberations within the Council of Freedom Park. Special thanks go to
Tembeka Ngcebetsha -Mooij, Senior Researcher at Freedom Park, who read every essay
with her usual sharp understanding, before making numerous critical suggestions that
have improved each contribution. My editorial work is more of a collaboration with her
than anything else—a collaboration for which I am profoundly grateful.
This book would not have been possible without the enthusiastic support and
engagement of the University of South Africa (Unisa). Freedom Park owes the university
an immense debt of gratitude for entering into this partnership. Particular thanks go to
Professor Mandla Makhanya, Vice-Chancellor and Principal of the University of South
Africa, who, apart from endorsing the partnership, contributed a chapter of his own.
Deep gratitude also goes to all the contributors, whose essays will certainly shape
the discourse around social memory as a force for transformation in South Africa and in
other postcolonies, for exploring the great challenges and opportunities that lie ahead,
as well as the need for values-based policies and strategies that can be harnessed for
the Fourth Industrial Revolution (4IR) in the age of Covid-19. My profound gratitude
goes to all the authors for embarking on this journey, and for their commitment to
transforming the state of the nation and the world. Together they form a community of
practice, united in their pursuit of justice and freedom. Finally, the support of the Chief
Executive Officer of Freedom Park, Ms Jane Matodzi Mufamadi, proved invaluable.
She was patient in providing gentle yet efficient assistance and showed continuous
enthusiasm for the project, over and above contributing an essay of her own.

V
 TABLE OF CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS v

ACRONYMS AND ABBREVIATIONS ix

FOREWORD Cyril Ramaphosa xiii

FOREWORD Nathi Mthethwa xv

PREFACE MCR Makopo xviii

PREFACE Jane Mufamadi xx

INTRODUCTION Muxe Nkondo xxiii

CHAPTER 1 CONTRADICTIONS IN MEMORIALISING LIBERATION HISTORY 1

Albie Sachs
CHAPTER 2 MEMORIALISATION AS A FORCE FOR RADICAL TRANSFORMATION:
THE CASE OF FREEDOM PARK IN SOUTH AFRICA 11
Mandla S. Makhanya
CHAPTER 3 FREEDOM PARK AS A PLACE OF MEMORY: SYMBOLIC REPARATIONS,
INDIGENOUS AFRICAN KNOWLEDGE SYSTEMS AND RECONCILIATION 21
Jane Mufamadi
CHAPTER 4 MEMORY AND SOCIOECONOMIC TRANSFORMATION IN SOUTH AFRICA 36
Vusi Gumede
CHAPTER 5 HOMELAND MANIFESTATIONS—A POSTAPARTHEID DENIGRATION OF
SOCIAL COHESION 49
Modimowabarwa Kanyane
CHAPTER 6 THE HISTORICAL TRANSFORMATION OF MALE INITIATION POLITICAL-
CULTURAL PRACTICES AND ITS ROLE IN NATION-BUILDING: THE CASE
OF THE WESTERN CAPE PROVINCE 59
Mthobeli Guma
CHAPTER 7 MEMORY, KNOWLEDGE AND FREEDOM: FROM DISMEMBERMENT
AND RE-MEMBERING 70
Sabelo J. Ndlovu-Gatsheni
CHAPTER 8 MEMORY FOR PEACE IN WAR: A CASE OF REMEMBERING AND
REBUILDING POSTAPARTHEID SOUTH AFRICA 79
Zodwa Motsa

VII
CHAPTER 9 MENDING OUR WOUNDED SOULS: TOWARDS THE POSSIBILITY
OF HEALING AND SOCIAL COHESION 94
Puleng Segalo
CHAPTER 10 RECONCILIATION AND SOCIAL JUSTICE IN SOUTH AFRICA: STILL
THE UNFINISHED BUSINESS OF THE TRC? 101
Tembeka Ngcebetsha-Mooij
CHAPTER 11 RISING VIOLENCE: THE CRISIS OF BROKEN INDIVIDUALS 117
William Gumede
CHAPTER 12 SOCIAL MEMORY THROUGH POSTHUMOUS REMEMBRANCE 131
Moeketsi Letseka
CHAPTER 13 MEMORIALISING THE COMMUNITY PUBLIC HEALTH LEGACY OF
THE RIBEIROS 147
Olga Makhubela-Nkondo
CHAPTER 14 THE PLACE OF MEMORY IN THE LIFE AND WORK OF DESMOND TUTU 163
Tinyiko Maluleke
CHAPTER 15 MEMORIALISING THE UNTOLD STORIES OF WOMEN, FOR
TRANSFORMATION 176
Thenjiwe Mtintso
CHAPTER 16 ON AND OF MEMORIES: UNDERSTANDING WOMEN’S STORIES,
STITCHED PERCEPTIONS AND THE RUPTURE OF VIOLENCE IN
THEIR LIVES 185
Thenjiwe Meyiwa
CHAPTER 17 MEMORIES OF, AND REFLECTIONS ON, BROADCASTING IN
SOUTH AFRICA 204
Marcia Socikwa
CHAPTER 18 PRESS FREEDOM 25 YEARS POSTINDEPENDENCE: CHALLENGES
AND SOLUTIONS FOR THE SOUTH AFRICAN MODEL 212
Lauren Marx
CHAPTER 19 UNIVERSITIES OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY FOR RURAL
DEVELOPMENT AS FREEDOM AND JUSTICE: THE POLITICS OF
EVIDENCE AND DECISION 227
Muxe Nkondo
CHAPTER 20 THE CENTRE, THE PERIPHERY AND SELFHOOD: RETHINKING THE
ROLE OF AFRICAN LANGUAGES FOR RADICAL TRANSFORMATION 248
Tlhabane Mokhine Motaung
CHAPTER 21 MEMORIALISING THE PAN-AFRICANIST CONGRESS OF AZANIA 257
Molefe Ike Mafole
CHAPTER 22 TO SING OR NOT TO SING: THE PROTEST SONG IN SOUTH AFRICA
TODAY 267
Vuyisile Msila
CHAPTER 23 SHARED DREAMS: CREATIVE ART—FROM COLLECTIVE MEMORY
TO SOCIAL TRANSFORMATION 279
Judy Seidman
CHAPTER 24 (SOCIAL) ANCHOR AS OPPOSITE TO TUMBLEWEED: THE NAMING
OF “THINGS” AS MEMORY AND ANCHOR, REPRESSION AS EROSION
AND DISLOCATION 291
Wiseman Magasela

VIII
CHAPTER 25 MEMORIALISING FREEDOM DURING COVID-19 LOCKDOWN IN
SOUTH AFRICA 299
Tembeka Ngcebetsha-Mooij
CHAPTER 26 THE POLITICAL ECONOMY AND ETHICS OF GLOBAL SOLIDARITY
IN COVID-19 308
Muxe Nkondo

ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTORS 318

IX
 ACRONYMS AND ABBREVIATIONS

4IR Fourth Industrial Revolution

ABC Audit Bureau of Circulation
AIKS African indigenous knowledge systems
ANC African National Congress
Apla Azanian People’s Liberation Army
AsgiSA Accelerated and Shared Growth Initiative for South Africa
Azapo Azanian People’s Organisation
BBC British Broadcasting Corporation
BCB Bantu Controls Board
BCM Black Consciousness Movement
BCMA Black Consciousness Movement of Azania
BCP Basutoland Congress Party
BEE black economic empowerment
BLF Black First Land First
BMP Broadcast Monitoring Project
BNP Basuto National Party
Boss Bureau of State Security
Brics Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa
CCDR Commission on the Demarcation and Delimitation of Regions
CCV Contemporary Community Values
CEO chief executive officer
CIA Central Intelligence Agency
Codesa Convention for a Democratic South Africa
Cope Congress of the People
COO Chief Operating Officer
Cosatu Congress of South African Trade Unions
CPJ Committee for the Protection of Journalists
CSVR Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation
DA Democratic Alliance
DAC Department of Arts and Culture
DACS Department of Arts, Culture and Sports
D-G Director-General
DHET Department of Higher Education and Training
DOH Department of Health
DSAC Department of Sport, Arts and Culture
DSD Department of Social Development
EFF Economic Freedom Fighters
eNCA eNews Channel Africa
EU European Union

XI
ACRONYMS AND ABBREVIATIONS

FBI Federal Bureau of Investigation

Fedsaw Federation of South African Women
FF+ Freedom Front Plus
Frelimo Frente de Libertaҫão de Moҫambique
GBV gender-based violence
GDP gross domestic product
Gear Growth, Employment and Redistribution (programme)
GNU Government of National Unity
HBR Hola Bon Renaissance
HRC Human Rights Commission
HSRC Human Sciences Research Council
IAKS indigenous African knowledge systems
IBA Independent Broadcasting Authority
ICTs information and communication technologies
IFP Inkatha Freedom Party
IJR Institute of Justice and Reconciliation
IKS indigenous knowledge system
IMF International Monetary Fund
Isis Israeli Secret Intelligence Service
LCD Lesotho Congress of Democracy
LEC Lesotho Evangelical Church
LISs library and information systems
LLA Lesotho Liberation Army
LSMs living standards measurements
March Museum and Archive on Constitution Hill
Mat media appeals tribunal
MDDA Media Development and Diversity Agency
MDM Mass Democratic Movement
MEC Member of the Executive Council
MI5 Military Intelligence 5
MI6 Military Intelligence 6
MK Umkhonto weSizwe
MMA Media Monitoring Africa
MPs members of parliament
MPC Monetary Policy Committee
NDP National Development Plan
NGO non-governmental organisation
NGP New Growth Path
Nicid National Institute of Communicable Diseases
Nikso National Indigenous Knowledge Systems Office
Nimss National Injury Mortality Surveillance System
NIS National Intelligence Service
NP National Party

XII
 ACRONYMS AND ABBREVIATIONS

NPA National Prosecuting Authority

NPC National Planning Commission
NPR National Population Register
NRC National Research Council
NSS National Security Service (Lesotho)
NUL National University of Lesotho
Numsa National Union of Mineworkers of South Africa
OAU Organisation for African Unity
PAAs Pan-African Archives
PAC Pan-Africanist Congress
Pawo Pan-African Women’s Organisation
PCSA Press Council of South Africa
PTSD post-traumatic stress disorder
PQM Program Qualification Mix
PWM Progressive Women’s Movement
R2K Right2Know
RDP Reconstruction and Development Programme
RDS Rural Development Strategy
Rica Regulation of Interception of Communications Act
RSA Republic of South Africa
SABC South African Broadcasting Corporation
SACC South African Council of Churches
Sacendu South African Community Epidemiology Network on Drug Use
SACP South African Communist Party
SADC Southern African Development Community
SADF South African Defence Force
Saha South African History Archive
Saho South African History Online
Sahra South African Heritage Resources Agency
SAHRC South African Human Rights Commission
SANDF South African National Defence Force
Sanef South African National Editors’ Forum
SANNC South African Native National Congress
Sapa South African Press Association
SAPS South African Police Service
SARB South African Reserve Bank
Sars South African Revenue Service
SOEs state-owned enterprises
StatsSA Statistics South Africa
Swapo South West Africa People’s Organisation
TBVC Transkei, Bophuthatswana, Venda and Ciskei
TLGA traditional and local government affairs
TRC Truth and Reconciliation Commission

XIII
ACRONYMS AND ABBREVIATIONS

TVET Technical Vocation, Education and Training

UCT University of Cape Town
UDF United Democratic Front
UK United Kingdom
UN United Nations
UNGA United Nations General Assembly
Unisa University of South Africa
US United States
WCDB Western Cape Development Board
WEF World Economic Forum
WHO World Health Organisation
WIDF Women’s International Democratic Federation
Wits University of the Witwatersrand
WNC Women’s National Coalition
Zanu-PF Zimbabwe African National Union-Patriotic Front

XIV
 FOREWORD

Cyril Ramaphosa
President of the Republic of South Africa

We live in exciting times of fundamental change in the political, social and economic
relations within our borders and across the world. The pace and scope of scientific
and technological advances, coming from international information and knowledge
institutions in the form of innovations and inventions, enjoin us to redefine ourselves
and our place in the world. The past and its presence in our lives are becoming a reality
in our policies, strategies and development plans, as we draw lessons from history and
reimagine ourselves in relation to one another and the rest of the world.
The Fourth Industrial Revolution (4IR) and Covid-19 are providing us with new
challenges—they are radically changing the way we understand our own history in
relation to the present and the future—our understanding of who we are and how we
should relate to one another in a world characterised by differences. The convergence
of 4IR and Covid-19 means we are witnessing the emergence of entirely new ways of
designing policy frameworks for national and international relations. In both subtle and
explicit ways, Covid-19 is also changing what it means to be human: contingencies of
race, ethnicity, nationality, gender, class, sexual orientation and so on, seem to have
reached their limits.
Freedom Park is uniquely placed to synthesise the experiences of the past and their
presence in our politics. The retrospective and introspective perspectives contained
in this publication shed considerable light on the nature and scope of both current
and emerging realities. They point to opportunities and constraints, and alert us to
impending risks and radical uncertainty, while urging us to reconsider our traditional
ways of “doing” politics, if we are to keep pace with the imperative of fundamental
change.
New technologies are driving radical transformation in the way we conceptualise
the politics of fundamental change. Reflections on social memory help us to put the
changes in historical perspective. We have to make bold choices and develop innovative
and flexible strategies that will benefit everyone in the world. As we do so, we have to
take care to minimise risk and build a more secure world.
Social Memory as a Force for Social and Economic Transformation is a timely
resource for understanding ourselves in the context of history, and our responsibility in
terms of bringing about fundamental change. It provides a framework for reevaluating
the past in relation to the demands of the present, and how to negotiate the future.

XV
CYRIL RAMAPHOSA

The constitution has established a framework for inclusive deliberation and reasoned
consensus: there are new challenges as well as old ones, particularly those relating to
global solidarity in a world marked by difference and inequality.
Overcoming these challenges is a central part of the quest for fundamental change.
If the essays arouse any interest or lead to more robust deliberations on our place in
history, the undertaking will have been well rewarded. Thus, the volume of essays is
offered in the spirit of gathering and putting forward new ideas that are already beginning
to shape discourse on the dynamics of change in our time. These contributions offer a
marvelous interdisciplinary synthesis which is grounded in concrete examples of social
memory, being simultaneously critical and constructive. They are essential reading
for anybody working on developing smarter uses of social memory. As well as the
academic rigour of the essays, there are practical tips about policy lessons and how
we might make new things happen in the world.
Covid-19 urges us to always include the world in our policies and strategies, and to
consistently apply the standards of justice and obligation. It compels us to consider a
range of virtues that the global citizen should display—mutual recognition, solidarity,
and responsibility to and for the other.

XVI
 FOREWORD

Nathi Mthethwa
Minister of Sport, Arts and Culture

The struggle for freedom and democracy was established on the principle of creating
a socially cohesive nation. In doing this, we are also consciously aware of the price
paid by those who brought us this liberation, lest we forget and repeat the horrors of
the past. Our social partners in academia are essential in providing us with a reservoir
of institutional memory, while continuously reminding us of the significance of
documenting our history for future generations. One such scholar is Elie Wiesel (2006,
p. 4), who wrote, “To forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time!”
We delve into the past because it would be impossible to understand how the present
came into being, or to predict the trends of the near future. The assertion made in the
quote illustrates the significance of memory in respect of nation-building and social
cohesion. People compose or construct their memories using public language and
the meanings of culture. In another sense, they compose memories which help them
feel relatively comfortable with their lives and which give them a sense of composure.
Freedom Park falls into this category. When memorials are coloured with the national
agenda, they can cement shared cultural meanings about the past, and foster national
pride and social cohesion.
Memory and memorialisation remain important avenues through which people
individually and collectively remember and preserve their past, and justify their present
positions and aspirations in what has recently been conceptualised as social cohesion
and nation building. Our memory of the past is deeply ingrained in how the colonial and
apartheid legacy, that negatively impacted our political, social, economic and cultural
life, shredded the social fabric and fragmented the body politic, while constructing a
racially exclusive society in which only a minority enjoyed full citizenship.
Although the ANC-led government has, since 1994, made substantial progress
towards reversing the legacy of apartheid, our country remains increasingly divided
along racial lines, and between the wealthy and the poor. Economic inequality, poverty,
unemployment, homelessness, landlessness, social or racial divisions and exclusion
are realities we live with. In addition, the phenomena of violent crime, gender-based
violence and femicide have taken on disturbing proportions.
The production of this book is timely, as the country and the world are battling with
the challenges posed by the Covid-19 pandemic, which has further exposed the fault
lines of structural inequality in our country. The pandemic has demonstrated to us in

XVII
NATHI MTHETHWA

clear terms that the apartheid legacy is still with us. The rural poor, and those living
in townships and informal settlements, remain excluded from economic resources on
the basis of language, class, geographic location and economic means, which impact
heavily on transport and general social mobility, job opportunities, access to service
delivery, health, education and skills.
As an agency of the Department of Sport, Arts and Culture (DSAC), this book is part
of Freedom Park’s responsibility to embark on social cohesion and nation building
programmes that align with the department’s strategic objective of developing an
inclusive and cohesive South African society. The various chapters of this book address
different aspects of what should be preserved and memorialised, including how the
memory of significant social institutions can be stored in the collective mind as social
memory in contemporary society. In this regard, the book asks the reader to question
who is represented by social memory, who social memory has neglected, and how all of
this affects society today. What emerges from the chapters where this is addressed, is
that it is about achieving political objectives, which are to foster social cohesion, nation
building and regional integration.
Reflecting on the liberation struggle, retired Judge of the Constitutional Court,
Albie Sachs, argues that the way we remember past events is always embedded
in contradictions. His view is that at every step in a maturing democracy, there are
contradictions embedded in memorialising our history. In between promises made to,
and the expectations of, our people, these contradictions must be negotiated in a
context of fractures and hierarchies inherited from apartheid, and influenced heavily
by international dynamics. As expressed in several chapters, a prerequisite for an
emerging democracy is to promote our heritage in a manner that defends the right
to freedom of expression. Freedom of expression is addressed as one of the basic
principles required for development, and for sustaining a functioning democracy.
Given our history, our role as government is to go beyond merely addressing the
challenges we face, to create an enabling environment in which socioeconomic
development and nation-building can thrive. In this regard, the effectiveness of
promoting history, culture and heritage must be seen in terms of its contribution to
changing the lives of ordinary citizens. This will not be possible without the development
of a substantive transformation agenda that establishes a more humane society in
which all citizens care about, and respect, one another’s human dignity.
The production of this book therefore represents the transformative thrust for
Freedom Park to use its strategic mandate to create a collective memory amongst
citizens that unites and builds the nation. Meaningful social and economic
transformation requires the setting up of an agenda that speaks directly to the
challenges, opportunities and needs of ordinary citizens, and the implementation of
related programmes that improve the lives of ordinary citizens.
The recommendations made in this book guide us on how we can use our past to
foster reconciliation, social cohesion and nation-building. More specifically, it guides
us on how we can use our culture and heritage to realise our social cohesion goals,
towards achieving the type of society envisioned by the National Development Plan
(NDP) for 2030—a society that embraces its diversity but has a common set of values,
an inclusive economy, and increased interaction among the different racial groups.

XVIII
 FOREWORD

It is my hope that the recommendations contained in this book will provide a guide
for Freedom Park and other similar memory institutions, to use memory to

• drive the socioeconomic transformation agenda, to eradicate inequality and

exclusion, and pave the way for community reconciliation, healing, social
cohesion and nation building;
• develop or implement social cohesion and nation-building programmes to
address the current challenges threatening social cohesion;
• mediate for conflict resolution interventions, social justice, reconciliation and
healing in groups or communities riddled with conflict or tension;
• change individual and/or group attitudes towards building a reconciled, socially
cohesive and more humane society, where all citizens care for, and respect, one
another’s human dignity.

Reference
Wiesel, E. (2006). Night. Hill & Wang.

XIX
 PREFACE

MCR Makopo
Chairperson of Freedom Park Council

Social Memory as a Force for Social and Economic Transformation is a comprehensive,

holistic and timely publication that seeks to address the ways in which the politics of
the past and the present are expressed through official processes of social memory
management in contemporary societies. The book seeks to promote Freedom Park
and other heritage and memory sites not just as places of memory that pay tribute
to the great legends of the struggle, but also as places where their achievements
and contributions can be used to address the challenges South Africa faces today.
In this sense, although the book is concerned with the past, its focus is on how its
interpretation in the present can contribute to radical socioeconomic transformation,
going forward.
The production of this book reminds us of how Freedom Park, as a memorial
infrastructure, evolved as one of the post-1994 national legacy projects to be envisioned
by the first democratic President of the Republic of South Africa, Nelson Mandela,
who, in his Freedom Day speech in 1999, spoke of the need to create a monument to
remember all South Africans who sacrificed their lives so that we could be free. The
former patron-in-chief of Freedom Park, Mandela (1999) said, “The day should not be
far off, when we shall have a people’s shrine, a freedom park where we shall honour
with all the dignity they deserve, those who endured pain so we should experience the
joy of freedom”. This was the basis on which the primary mandate of Freedom Park
was established, namely to honour those who died for freedom and humanity.
As a heritage site resorting under the Department of Sport, Arts and Culture (DSAC),
Freedom Park was established with the distinct objective of addressing the gaps,
distortions and biases of the past, and providing fresh perspectives on South Africa’s
heritage that portray this country’s story in as balanced and inclusive a way as possible.
As recommended by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), Freedom Park
was to continue on the path of uncovering the “truth” about what happened during the
colonial and apartheid periods; specifically, to create a collective memory of the past
from the African perspective—an approach that seeks to emancipate the African voice
which was previously marginalised and challenges the Eurocentric ways that have, for
decades, shaped ideas around national memory.
The question that runs like a thread through the book, is how Freedom Park can
preserve the memory of past events, yet remain relevant today and in the future,

XX
 PREFACE

especially for the youth. How can we pay homage to our struggle icons—the living and
the departed—and use their contributions to address the present and future cultural
and socioeconomic challenges that have continued to face our country since the advent
of democracy in 1994? If we fail to respond to these questions, our youth may not find
sufficient reason to search for the truth behind the suffering of their forebears. If what
they died for has not emancipated them from poverty, inequality and unemployment,
they will think their forebears died in vain. Unless the promises and expectations of the
struggle against colonialism and apartheid are realised, and ordinary South Africans
are emancipated, we will have failed the democratic project.
In addition, the book sensitises South Africans to the fact that the achievement of
freedom and democracy was not simply an event which occurred in 1994, but is a
process which has to be progressively realised by the citizenry for generations to come.
The consistent body of research presented in some sections of this book suggests
that our country inherited a collective memory which ingrained a deeply embedded
culture of violence—in cross-border and homeland conflicts—that left many people
deeply traumatised. As such, our country is still characterised by alarming levels of
systemic violence. There are isolated incidents of political violence, acts of violence
against migrants, atrocities against farmers, and escalating rates of gender-based
violence and femicide. This book reminds us of the importance of healing the wounds,
fighting against violence and redressing the wrongs of the past, such as the stark
levels of social inequality and mass poverty.
As our recent experience with the Covid-19 lockdown has shown, it would be a
mistake to read this book only for the uses of social memory as a theoretical reference.
This publication must be used to enrich the principles of action we take in addressing
the county’s fundamental challenges as a multicultural society. It must encourage us
to acknowledge that the challenges we continue to face require a memorialising of the
past, in ways that can enhance its effectiveness in the present, promote sustainable
development and ensure radical economic transformation. Guided by the National
Development Plan (NDP), we can use social memory against poverty, inequality and
hunger, and rebuild our nation. We owe it to the memories of those who came before us,
to embody the values of empathy, compassion and solidarity which they so cherished.
It is my hope that this publication will open up opportunities for public dialogue
and serious conversations on the potentially complex topics addressed in the different
chapters. In this way, Freedom Park will make a powerful, positive impact on the ground
and heighten public interest in the site, because more people will feel that they belong
to the site and that the site belongs to them. This demonstrates our inclusive approach
to the implementation of our secondary mandate, which is to foster reconciliation,
social cohesion and nation-building in a manner that changes people’s lives on the
ground.

Reference
Mandela, N. (1999, April 27). Address by Nelson Mandela at Freedom Day celebrations, Umtata.
http://www.mandela.gov.za/mandela_speeches/1999/990427_freedomday.htm

XXI
 PREFACE

Jane Mufamadi
Freedom Park CEO

With the advent of the postapartheid democratic era, the transformation and
democratisation of the South African heritage sector came into being. Key to these
processes was the fostering of new goals, values, visions and themes such as freedom,
peace, justice, humanity, reconciliation, social cohesion and nation-building. Due to
these processes of redress, alternative monuments and memorials emerged in the
postapartheid period. The Legacy Project, for example, led to the creation of a host of
alternative monuments, museums, memorials, statues, plaques and commemorative
sites, of which Freedom Park is one.
Nelson Mandela, during his tenure as the first president of the Republic of South
Africa, thought that the construction of Freedom Park was necessary to begin the
process of reconciling, reconstructing and healing the wounds inflicted by past conflicts.
As the country underwent a democratic transition, the need for a monument that
would offer symbolic recognition and reparation of past conflicts in South Africa was
echoed by different sectors of the nation. In particular, the proceedings of the Truth
and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) revealed the vast recognition that thousands of
South Africans, black and white, carried or continue to carry deep-seated wounds from
the pain inflicted on them by the utter cruelty of the apartheid system.
Freedom Park was launched in 2000, amongst various new forms of memorialisation
that emerged post-1994, which included the renaming of streets, roads, bridges,
towns, cities, schools, hospitals, stadiums and institutions of higher learning, to
honour figures associated with the hitherto neglected history, heritage and culture
of resistance and the liberation struggle. The establishment of the park as a distinct
national and international monument was mandated by a cabinet decision and an act
of parliament, to create a national symbol that commemorates all South Africans who
sacrificed their lives so that we could experience freedom.
Unlike other conventional monuments that celebrate the victories of the past from a
colonial perspective, the position adopted by Freedom Park in representing our history,
culture and heritage, is premised on the principle of the emancipation of African voices
—a perspective that takes into account the fact that the history of the African continent

XXII
 PREFACE

was suppressed, distorted and silenced for more than 600 years. By giving voice to
submerged histories in South Africa, and heralding the transformation of this country
and its cultural reconstitution in broad and inclusive African terms, Freedom Park aims
to gather and communicate the accurate and fair interpretation of facts about African
people–their forms of government, their economic practices and their knowledge
systems, including their medical systems and cultural practices.
One of the important tasks facing Freedom Park is to mobilise diverse South Africans
towards one nationalism as a united nation, and to deliver programmes that speak to
both the past and the present, articulating national aspirations for reconciliation as
part of the future of this nation. This is how December 16, the Day of Reconciliation,
came to be commemorated every year at Freedom Park. Reconciling the nation is a
process undertaken in accordance with our national motto, “Unity in diversity”—a notion
outlined in the constitution (Republic of South Africa [RSA], 1996), the White Paper
on Arts, Culture and Heritage (Parliamentary Monitoring Group [PMG], 1996) and the
vision of the National Development Plan 2030 (RSA, 2012)—a vision which sees all the
diverse groups and cultures of this country being accorded a special, meaningful and
important role in achieving social cohesion and effecting nation-building.
The production of this book is part of a variety of programmes that position Freedom
Park as a knowledge centre which produces, gathers and communicates accurate and
fair interpretations of facts about our history, culture and heritage, from an African
perspective. Guided by the National Strategy for Developing an Inclusive and Cohesive
South African Society, put forward by the Department of Arts and Culture (DAC, 2012),
this book forms part of the process of implementing impactful programmes and
interventions based on effecting social cohesion, as the country moves towards realising
the type of society envisioned by the NDP 2030—a truly democratic, equitable and just
society that respects and preserves the rights of all. In so doing, this publication seeks
to answer an important question: How do we memorialise our history and heritage, and
interpret these in a manner that addresses the socioeconomic challenges facing our
communities today?
In answering this question, the chapters in this book expose us to the fact that
although we have achieved 26 years of freedom, as a country we continue to confront
and overcome obstacles to our hard-fought democracy by establishing unity amongst
diverse groups and cultures. By reflecting on memories of the past as we address
present challenges, this book offers a different narrative in our journey of healing old
wounds. It shows that the divisions of the past are still prevalent in our communities,
and continue to cause pain and suffering. In order for the majority to experience
meaningful freedom, there must be a full commitment from all parties to peace and
stability. For instance, some chapters reflect the view of many black South Africans,
which is that the truth about how people died during the wars of freedom, must be
addressed. As Tembeka Ngcebetsha-Mooij argues, even though the TRC went a long
way in addressing this problem, many victims of violence remain undiscovered and
unacknowledged, while many perpetrators of atrocities have neither come forward,
nor apologised for their misdeeds. Until that happens, wholehearted reconciliation in
South Africa will be delayed.

XXIII
JANE MUFAMADI

As we celebrate Freedom Park’s 20 years of existence, let us use this publication to

go the extra mile in giving back to this great nation, by spearheading a transformative
thrust which seeks to ensure that all South Africans become part of the process of
recovering our history, for the sake of reconciliation, peace and unity. The Covid-19
pandemic has shown that, if we work together, we can overcome anything. We can
restore our values and confront our challenges. My sincere hope is that, through the
interventions suggested here, we will find ways of utilising our history, heritage and
cultural products to stimulate socioeconomic development and ensure sustainable
livelihoods for our communities; that we will change individual and/or group attitudes
in favour of a reconciled, socially cohesive and more humane society in which all
citizens care for, and respect, one another’s human dignity. Let us therefore use the
recommendations made here to foster a united vision as South Africans, to transform
our nation in line with former President Nelson Mandela’s vision in his first State of the
Nation Address (Mandela, 1994), dubbed the “Age of hope” speech, in which he said,
“We must seize the time to define ourselves and what we make of our shared destiny.”

References
Department of Arts and Culture (DAC) (2012, June 7). National Strategy for Developing an
Inclusive and Cohesive South African Society. http://www.dac.gov.za/sites/default/files/
NATIONAL-STRATEGY-SOCIAL-COHESION-2012.pdf
Mandela, N. (1994, May 24). State of the Nation Address. http://www.sahistory.org.za/
archive/1994-president-mandela-state-nation-address-24-may-1994-after-national-
elections
Parliamentary Monitoring Group (PMG). (1996). White Paper on Arts, Culture and Heritage.
http://pmg.org.za/policy-document
Republic of South Africa (RSA). (1996). Constitution of the Republic of South Africa Act 108 of
1996. Government Printer.
Republic of South Africa (2012, August 15). National Development Plan 2030. http://gov.za/
issues/national-development-plan-2030

XXIV
 INTRODUCTION

Muxe Nkondo
Editor

The authors assembled here all symbolise the ways in which intellectuals and activists
have become spokespersons for a popular radical reevaluation of postcolonial politics:
a profound transformation not only of the state and society, but also of the tools of
analysis. This radical turn involves consensus regarding an equality amongst different
peoples and cultures, rather than the racial, ethnic, class and gender identities which
were institutionalised as a fundamental feature of the apartheid order. Postcolonial
critique has been so successful that, 26 years later, the concepts and values of
inclusive, deliberative democracy have been established as distinctive ways in which
citizens see and represent themselves.
Although the basis for such an argument is generally the apartheid colonial
experience, arguably, such postcolonial critiques are also paving the way for a
South African society that is being produced by the challenges of neoliberalism
and globalisation. The assertion of agency has become the activity of intellectuals,
activists and people’s networks. In this sense, the essays form part of the genealogy
of postcolonial discourse in terms of their relations to earlier intellectual, social and
political movements aimed at resisting the cognitive and cultural domination of the
West, and which trace their origins to past struggles against imperialism.
Poststructuralist theory, which informs the essays, is grounded in the work of earlier
intellectuals and activists such as Pixley Ka Seme, Anton Lembede, Sol Plaatje, Lilian
Ngoyi, W. E. B du Bois, Frantz Fanon, Ngũgῖ wa Thiong’o, Steve Biko, Robert Sobukwe
and others—a dimension that opens up the vastness of the tasks ahead. For how can
we analyse the context of social memory, “the pastness of the past and of its presence”,
to use T. S. Eliot’s (2014) felicitous formulation, as a force for self-understanding
and fundamental change, without also considering the history of its formations, and
the development of resistance and revolution in earlier periods? Although there are
many studies on postcolonialism in South Africa, and even more studies on specific
aspects such as race and class, #RhodesMustFall and #NotInMyName, very few look
at postcolonialism in South Africa from the perspective of social memory.
Although no essay offers a blow-by-blow narrative of the political and social struggles
in South Africa, there is a focus on the discourse that has developed to support and
promote the movement for fundamental change, as well as an emphasis on the

XXV
MUXE NKONDO

constructive nature of the intellectual movement accompanying the political processes

of radical social and economic transformation. We made this choice pragmatically—
not just for reasons of space, but also because social memory presents a different
emphasis and perspective on the anticolonial movements accompanying the political
process of fundamental change. What we want to convey, instead, is the strategic
value of social memory, the sense of its radical potential, and its dynamic political and
intellectual aspirations for change that continue to offer political inspiration into the
future.
In a volume of essays that attempt such a view of the politics of social memory,
inevitably much remains unsaid. One argument that is certainly represented, but
could be made more strongly throughout, is the simple fact that apartheid was a rare
form of colonialism. First advanced as an ideological justification for state racism, it
claimed the racial superiority of those of European origin who came to underline both
the assumptions and justifications for colonial rule. In that context, apartheid South
Africa operated as a more extreme and systematic form of racism. Social memory
must sound the death-knell for all surviving colonial ways of thinking about racial and
cultural difference in South Africa. While our society has changed, economic relations
continue according to the Eurocentric, racist, elitist and patriarchal assumptions of old.
In spite of that, neocolonialism has found it almost impossible to generate a culture of
consent to being dominated: whereas in apartheid times there was often a pragmatic
form of acceptance interrupted by periodic rebellions, today South African society is
typically almost uncontrollable.
While economic domination remains, people on the ground have developed varied
forms of resistance to Western hegemony through political organisations and self-
assertive cultural networks. It is this political and intellectual tradition that provides
the resources for the development of radical social and economic thought. Part of the
objective is to document and demonstrate the richness and diversity of the intellectual
tradition which is to be found in the postcolonies. As in all anticolonial discourse, this
is dialogue which accommodates a range of views, thereby establishing the basis for a
culture of inclusive deliberation and openly reasoned consensus.
In writing about the complex and multifaceted discourse of social memory as politics,
the major challenge for us—apart from researching such a vast range of material—was
how to organise it. What became clear was the degree to which the political settlement
has functioned as a fulcrum for the development of postapartheid, neoliberal politics.
Most of the social scientists and activists represented in these essays have turned
to poststructuralism for inspiration and direction, without (for the most part) treating
it as reverentially as the functionaries of anarchism do (Chomsky, 2011; Deleuze &
Guattari, 1983). The rich texture of critique within each of the essays occupies much
of the material of the volume. The overall historical and deliberative mode remains
illuminating, and makes most sense of the development of radical, transformative
thought in the postcolony. The neoliberal experiment that emerged from the political
settlement and reconciliation has largely been defeated, typically as a result of the use
of oppressive forms of social engineering that have contributed to the subtle reversal
of the gains of the liberation struggle.

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 INTRODUCTION

This much is known and duly covered in the literature. In the course of its history, the
colonial system in Africa has been transformed, to an extent, by liberation movements—
in Algeria, Guinea-Bissau, the Cape Verde islands, Angola, Mozambique, Zimbabwe,
Namibia and South Africa, to mention the most notable ones. All of them were called
“revolutions” by those who participated in them. Although there is by no means
a perfect symmetry in these movements, there are certain patterns or regularities.
Each marked a significant change, which entailed a measure of violence. Each sought
legitimacy in democratic law. Each took more than one generation to establish roots.
Each eventually produced a new system of law which embodied some of the major
proposals of the revolution, and changed the colonial legal tradition while largely
remaining within that tradition.
These revolutions were not, on the one hand, coups d’état (although they were
rebellions), or, on the other hand, drawn-out series of incremental changes that were
accommodated within the pre-existing system. Like revolutions in the West, they were
significant transformations that were accomplished with great struggle and passion.
Each revolution represented the failure of the old political and legal system which the
revolution replaced or changed. The old political and legal systems were also a failure
in another sense: they proved incapable of responding, in time, to the changes taking
place in society. And so it is that revolution has been a discontinuous, violent change
that broke the bonds of the political and legal systems.
The failure to anticipate the movement towards decoloniality and radical
transformation, and to incorporate them in time, is partly due to an inherent
contradiction in the nature of the colonial capitalist system, which sought to preserve
order while exploiting human and material resources. Order itself was conceived as
having a built-in tension between the need for stability and the need for exploitation
and domination. Each of the African revolutions experienced an interim period during
which new policies, laws, institutions and regulations were enacted in rapid succession
and, occasionally, repealed or replaced. Eventually, each of the revolutions seems to
have made its peace with the pre-revolutionary legal system and restored many of its
elements by including them in a new system which reflects several of the major goals,
values and beliefs for which the revolution was fought. Thus, the new systems of law,
established through these revolutions, transformed the legal tradition while remaining
within it (Berman, 1983; Bond, 2016; Deonandan et al., 2007; Southall, 2003).
The neocolonisation of South Africa since 1994—through exploitation of the notions
of forgiveness, reconciliation and social cohesion—could be said to represent the
contemporary neoliberal condition in Africa, just as much as the radical social and
economic transformation movement it has produced: something that might be taken
as a rupture of the earlier narratives of colonisation and the development of a new
national order. With that, the truth and reconciliation project has been replaced by a
more radical project grounded in the foundations of agency, freedom and justice.
The neocolonial project of the political settlement is floundering, as is the old colonial
narrative framework of Eurocentric power and authority. The new narrative of radical
transformation arose from a search for the true meaning of people’s sovereignty. Its
only parallel is the journey to a brave new world, the discovery of a new, hitherto-
unknown place that could be explored freely and utilised effectively to relieve our

XXVII
MUXE NKONDO

historic struggle. The question of a radically new normative order will not be assumed
through the neoliberal analytical vocabulary any more than it will be with further
“forgiveness, reconciliation and social cohesion” rituals and ceremonies. Political
thinking must be directed, as Albie Sachs (see later) so delicately suggests, to the
endless dynamics of change, the endless resourcefulness of language and cognition,
and the immensity of being.
The discovery of a new, analytical vocabulary, prompted by poststructuralism and
decolonisation, is revolutionary because it alters the political geography of Europe,
to the degree that the world beyond Europe is not perceived as the discovery of a
new antagonism, but as the finding of a free discursive and political space, to which
the fundamental basis of South African law must immediately be applied (Laclau,
2005; Meierhenrich, 2009). The emphasis on the land question opens up a possible
ecological narrative from which we could rethink the terms of reference of the national
development revolution (Ngcukayithobi, 2018). This shift in the analytical vocabulary
has led (as a close reading of the essays will soon confirm) to the development of
dialectical thinking which is at once disruptive and constructive, and so different from
the linear categorical thinking to which we have been subjected for so long, in which
division, demarcation, order and hierarchy were drawn (Wolfreys, 2004).
The question that arises in the present context, and which is raised in different
ways in each essay, is whether the current political and economic schema can be
reinterpreted to work within a radically transformative vocabulary. How can such a
vocabulary take into account the temporal, enfolded, palimpsestic complexity of the
postcolonial in South Africa? Can we rethink it in the way that we can understand and
interpret the shifting complexity of postcolonial South Africa, caught, as it is, in the
global flow of capital? The choice would seem to be either to restrict and simplify our
understanding of what radical transformation involves or to rethink our conception
of it, particularly with respect to its relation to a narrative of the nation according to
the linear, progressive sequence from colony to neocolonial nation-state. In practice,
certainly in Africa and Latin America that narrative has folded back on itself (Deonandan,
2007; Panitch & Albo, 2016). It is not just that South Africa (as was the case with
other colonial states) became a nation-state, but rather that it (like other postcolonies)
became an instrument for neoliberal capitalist power. Quite ironically, it would appear,
the new South African nation-state is being used against the very substance and spirit
of the revolution. That is a way of saying that the political settlement has initiated a
period of recolonisation and new forms of social, economic and political domination.
The argument that binds all the essays, propelled by the passion for radical
transformation, operates as a paradigm of the historical transition to a radically
transformed society. If the political settlement and the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission (TRC) function as the fulcrum for neoliberalism, we could say that the
new movement for radical transformation is a powerful critique of the reactionary
model that followed the negotiations. All in all, the postcolonial nation-state, analysed
and assessed from various perspectives in the essays, betrays traces of the colonial
violence, struggle and suffering of individuals—“broken lives”, as William Gumede (see
later) so poignantly describes them. The essays, then, help us to bring together and
examine the perspectives on policy-making practices that have emerged since 1994

XXVIII
 INTRODUCTION

to challenge the neoliberal, empiricist, technocratic approach to policy making. The

analyses offer a fresh perspective on an old yet still troubling challenge, namely that
the field of policy making in South Africa has generally been guided by a Eurocentric
empiricist orientation that is largely insensitive to politics. In the process, the policy
processes have neglected the basic values of agency, freedom and justice, along
with socioeconomic meanings inherent in policy work, and, as a consequence, have
increasingly turned away from the big social, economic, political and ethical issues that
gave rise to them in the first place. As a consequence, efforts aimed at moving radical
transformation forward have been hobbled and undercut.
The poststructuralist approach brought with it a more sophisticated emphasis on
social, economic and political meanings, this time through a deeper understanding
of the interplay between politics, economics, culture and knowledge. Neoliberal
technocratic practices, despite their glaring limitations, have nonetheless proven
resilient and adaptive to change, and have established a web of policy networks and
constellations around the globe to entrench market-driven values and principles.
Thanks to the radical transformation movement, the role of radical ideas and the
radical transformation movement have experienced a comeback in policy analysis. In
fact, strong ideas have a particular force; they actually constitute a manifold reality that
has to be examined carefully (Fischer, 2003; Plehwe et al., 2006).
The emphasis on discourse, interpretation and meaning does not mean society
will move forward solely because of words and concepts. But, unlike the neoliberal,
technocratic approach, language and discourse—especially when combined with
power and wealth—are recognised as forms of action, and central to policy analysis.
Without them, the institutional practices of a society cannot be understood (Foucault,
1969). Given that neoliberal empiricism in policy work since 1994 has failed to produce
the promised body of transformative theory, it has persisted at considerable cost—
deepening poverty, and widening unemployment and severe inequality. A disruptive-
constructive approach, rather, seems to show that we need a much more nuanced
understanding of the interactions that constitute the political, social and economic
reality, the way that the empirical is embedded in the normative. The essays show
that political analysis is located across a subjective continuum. By stripping away the
outdated pretense of neoliberal empiricism, the essays make it easier to deal with
“empirical data” in a manner that is more cogent and more responsive to current and
emerging realities.
Rather than worrying about protecting a narrow understanding of the interests and
values of the elite and the European, the authors are more concerned about those
assumptions without which inclusive growth and political stability cannot be sustained.
The economic crisis (which is as much moral and intellectual as it is political and social)
above all calls into question our decades-long submission to Eurocentric ideas of
politics and economics. The Eurocentric path to morality can no longer be regarded as
orthodoxy; it cannot be the standard against which democratic changes in South Africa
and other postcolonies are measured. The essays show that postcolonial South Africa
is creating its own kind of modernity in its very particular historical circumstances,
demonstrating the fact that there are (and always were) other ways of conceiving
of the state, society, economy, happiness and wellbeing. As each essay suggests,

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MUXE NKONDO

these notions came with their own specific difficulties. Nevertheless, it is possible to
understand them only through an open and sustained engagement with postcolonial
societies, and their political and intellectual traditions and aspirations. Such an effort,
formidable as it is, goes against every instinct of the self-privileging universalism of
neoliberalism which the West has upheld for centuries.
In South Africa, such engagement is needed urgently if we wish to seriously
confront the economic problems facing the majority of the people: how to achieve
the full meaning of freedom and justice amidst poverty, unemployment and inequality
(Therborn, 2016). In light of this, we should desist from using abstract thought to ground
political, social and economic practice, and affirm, as pragmatists, consequences as
the crux or measure of policy value. The essays lead the reader to recognise that social
memory as a force for transformation is an extremely serious political undertaking:
the political economy of fundamental change in South Africa entails tracking down all
forms of neoliberal resistance and subversion.
In the discourse on social memory as a force for change, there is also the feminist
imperative. Thenjiwe Mtintso’s essay on the unacknowledged role of women in the
liberation struggle represents an increasing body of material in recent years on this
topic. In terms of conventional representations, the history of revolutions was very
much a male affair. Just as colonial history is dominated by men, so the leaders and
commanders were all largely (though by no means exclusively) male (Tharu & Lalita,
1993; Tinker, 1987). Mtintso gives a succinct yet comprehensive feminist response
to the absence of women from colonial and anticolonial histories. She exposes the
dialectical relations of feminism and patriarchy in the liberation movement, posing
questions related to the degree to which the masculine notion of the struggle restricted
the participation of women, and also the extent to which postcolonial historiography
reproduces an absence of women in its historical narratives. She articulates a clear
need to produce a feminist history and theory which will re-examine the role of
women, articulate the forms of emancipatory politics in which they were engaged and
demonstrate their own kind of agency. Her presentation of women’s different profile
in the struggle stems from the gender-based inequalities that formed the origin of
feminist politics. The nature of women’s struggles, often conducted from positions of
extreme marginality outside the space of national politics, means that their history
cannot be written or understood in the same way as conventional constructions of
gender identity. It requires different analytical techniques and vocabulary.
For the same reason, her essay, reinforced by that of Thenjiwe Meyiwa, rather than
developing a theoretical model, focuses above all on the practical social and political
issues affecting women. No single figure in the liberation movement registers particular
feminist anticolonial positions in the manner of a Nelson Mandela, a Steve Biko or a
Robert Sobukwe. Even women such as Lilian Ngoyi and Winnie Madikizela Mandela,
despite playing significant roles in the struggle, have not produced a comparable public
discourse (feminist or otherwise) to that of O. R. Tambo or Sol Plaatje. There are very
few inclusive theorisations of the revolution that could be subsequently developed
for new gendered contexts. The apparent absence of female iconic figures means
that the role women played in the struggle has largely been passed over until recent
years. Fortunately, theoretical and political arguments are now being developed in the

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 INTRODUCTION

aftermath of the struggles as well as the often problematic legacy of women, drawing
on women in South Africa and other postcolonies to produce gendered analytical
accounts of the anticolonial era (Tharu, 1993; Young, 2016).
The constitution guaranteed women equal rights and freedoms, but this has by no
means ensured that they enjoy equality in practice, or that they do not continue to
be subjected to wide-ranging forms of social oppression. Political independence has
not been the end of the struggle and, for that reason, postcolonial critique identifies
with campaigns for women’s access to work, executive and leadership positions, and
many other areas in the social and economic spheres which go beyond a constitutional
political equality. Just as Che Guevara agreed that political liberation must be followed
by social economic liberation, so feminists hold that national political emancipation
must be followed by social and economic liberation for women.
In South Africa, women’s emancipation remains a major part of the unfinished
business of the postcolonial era, its main adversary continues to be deeply entrenched
in cultural prejudices and assumptions. For this reason, transcontinental feminism
constitutes a central (rather than marginal) part of postcolonial politics. From this point
of view, despite the very different political histories involved, postcolonial women in
all the postcolonies share a common political commitment and objectives. In sum,
poststructuralism and decolonisation have cast their long shadow over the current
discourse on radical transformation. Through insightful studies of the democratic
transition, each author puts forth a central vision of the relations between politics,
economics, culture, knowledge and discourse. The implications: all neoliberal
scholarship and reforms—in the shape of forgiveness, reconciliation and social
cohesion—amount to a misreading of the antagonism at the core of our politics.
We live in a society and a world in which there are several disparities in terms of
power, wealth and knowledge. These conditions existed when the constitution was
adopted in 1996, with a commitment to address them and fundamentally transform
our political, social and economic order. For, as Chief Justice Arthur Chaskalson once
said, “as long as these conditions continue to exist that aspiration will have a hollow
ring” (Bilchitz, 2007). To promote informed deliberation and reasoned consensus on
these issues, the first step the authors take is to deepen understanding of the havoc,
both raw and subtle, which capitalism has wrought upon South African society. The
dilemma facing South Africa and other postcolonies is not a contingent one, nor a
question of mere institutional re-engineering, as Modimowabarwa Kanyane, Molefe
Ike Mafole, Tlhabane Motaung, Zodwa Motsa and Vusi Gumede argue—it is of a deeper
nature. Our starting point in addressing this dilemma should relate back to the key
factor in the crisis around neoliberal democracy: the incompatibility, at the very core,
of democracy and market systems.
The problem is compounded because of the central roles which education and the
media play in shaping political consciousness and sensibility, as a reading of Marcia
Sockiwa, Lauren Marx and Muxe Nkondo’s essays on university education confirms.
South African education exemplifies some of the same basic contradictions in the
world of politics and economics. The media’s influence on politics and economics is
much more direct than that of education, and the media play a decisive role in the
current drift of South African society. They are a very important source of resistance to

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MUXE NKONDO

the elimination of structural inequalities, contributing as they do to the entrenchment

of liberal values (Bourdieu, 1998; Tomaselli, 1997). They have indeed become an
autonomous power.
In the systemic violence of today’s postcolonial, neoliberal, capitalist South African
society, in what ways can caring, social cohesion and solidarity be taught? This question,
raised by Puleng Segalo, haunts all the chapters contained here and all democratic
struggles, particularly now in the grip of Covid-19, a global existential trauma that has
exposed our shared vulnerability. This is the real challenge as we reevaluate the past
and design strategies for fundamental transformation amidst conditions of radical
uncertainty (Kay & King, 2020).
Judy Seidman, in her focus on the arts as a resource for political education, begins
to answer that question. By investigating works of art in their political context, she
reveals the educative power of exhibitions, shows and performances, and the social
and political value of the arts. Justice and freedom are ideas but they are also feelings,
attitudes and forms of action. Just here the arts come in: they are not isolated pieces
of design and technique, belonging to a realm of pure aesthetic values. Seidman lays
the stress not on art for its own sake, but for its intellectual, social and political value.
Material conditions matter. Displays and exhibitions represent an intimate study of
the complexities, potentialities and essential conditions of empathy and solidarity. Her
approach allows for the individual aspect to be integral to the social and the political.
The arts exemplify the dialectic between the body, mind and spirit. In the struggle for
a just democratic order, the artist feels him/herself very much at one with society. The
revolution needs the arts as a source of political education and socialisation. That way,
art leads to a new, deeper recognition of the essentially social and political nature
of the creative imagination, and should not be viewed as mere entertainment. What
Seidman recommends to activists and other agents of change, is that thinking about
political and social matters is best done by passionate minds and hearts, adverted
and sensitised by great artistic experience. Without a sensitising familiarity with the
intensities of great art, the thinking, feeling and action that revolutionary activism calls
for, will not have the edge and force they require.
A large part of the edge and force has to do with the naming power of social memory,
a theme Wiseman Magasela explores with great delicacy and erudition. By recalling a
past event, that past is re-membered and renewed, performed again in the present but
under different circumstances. In each essay the past is repeated and transcended,
making social memory something that not only names the present, but also seeks
to make something happen. Hence, in each essay the usual grammatical form is
that of a performative speech act in a political field in the first-person indicative: “we
should”, “we must”, “we have to”. These indicatives function as performatives, a mode
of speech that characterises the discourse throughout this volume of essays. To say
“let us” or “going forward” not only recalls a past speech act; it is implicitly a new
way of saying “we have to”. Hence, the forms of language used throughout include
imperatives, questions, injunctions, appeals and persuasions. They always address
someone or something. They define the status of what is remembered and what is
to happen, making all of them actions of social memory and calls to act, to move
from here to there. All of them draw on persuasion and the approval of other people

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 INTRODUCTION

in given circumstances; hence all the essays are intersubjective, social and material
phenomena.
Consequently, in each contribution there is a “no” followed by a “yes”—that is, change
is possible. The “yes” is the political and discursive condition of social memory in a
wider context. Now that they are published and available to all who wish to read them,
they go beyond (and exceed) any inward, cognitive and ahistorical speech act. They are
a way of doing things with social memory, seeking to bring forth something that does
or acts, that is a way of doing things with words in the service of fundamental change.
In that sense, social memory is a performance (Austin, 1980; Miller, 1995). The essays
go beyond liberal forms of narration, and do so in new, disruptive and constructive
linguistic and cognitive ways, making each a secular version of the Adamic task of
giving things their names. In this sense, social memory is really a gift of language and
cognition.
Of all social memories, the death and loss of a loved one in the war for justice
and freedom pose the most powerful challenges for family, colleagues and friends,
with reverberations for all involved in democratic struggles. Moeketsi Letseka and Olga
Makhubela-Nkondo explore the dynamics of loss and mourning in struggle politics. The
apparent failure of the TRC, as Tembeka Ngcebetsha-Mooij suggests, has complicated
the recovery process. Resurgent racism and triumphant liberalism have exacerbated
the processes of mourning and recovery. There are, however, signs that our society is
beginning to confront the grim reality; unfortunately, the failure blocks reconciliation
and recovery. It involves family as well as social and political processes that assist
individuals in coming to terms with loss, and moving forward with life and the struggle
for justice. It also involves finding social ways to make meaning of the loss experience,
puts it in perspective, and weaves the experience into the fabric of politics and life.
Amid the economic upheavals of the past 26 years, poverty and unemployment
have involved multiple losses of a different kind. Fortunately, shared experiences of
loss have helped the bereaved and the down-trodden to regulate themselves and find
ways of mobilising and sustaining political and social bonds within the discipline of the
liberation movement. Political conviction, in the midst of death and loss, is a wellspring
for resilience (Calata & Calata, 2018; Tiro, 2019). Each essay is thus a cry flowing from
our history, a cry for an appropriate political and ethical vocabulary, which reveals that
social and economic responses to loss, broadly conceived, require a richly nuanced,
sophisticated analytical framework. But, as Freud (1957) would advise, recovery from
loss requires a replacement, not just a substitute, articulated in a just political, social
and economic order, otherwise the colonial power imbalance will remain and so will
the deep sense of loss and mourning, with no prospect for recovery.
With deepening poverty and unemployment there has been surging interest in
spirituality, as people seek greater meaning in their lives and deeper connection with
others in our liberal, materialistic society. Tinyiko Maluleke’s tribute to Archbishop
Desmond Tutu points to this. As democratic struggles face an uphill battle, so people
look more to moral values to bring greater coherence to their lives. With the decline
in public trust and confidence, many are turning to spirituality to guide them through
perilous times. Social memory offers guidance in respect of how people can draw

XXXIII
MUXE NKONDO

inspiration and lessons from the past, in the common pursuit of the true meaning of
freedom and justice (Walsh & McGoldrick, 2004).
It is impossible to assess social memory as a force for radical transformation
without considering our current moment, in light of Covid-19. In his second essay,
Muxe Nkondo reflects on the political economy and ethics of global solidarity that are
preoccupying governments, experts, the media and the general public around the
world. What is global solidarity and why does it matter—now more than ever before?
What motivates our urge to construct others as essentially human in our encounter with
the pandemic? Drawing on scholarship on what Toni Morrison (2017) calls “the origin
of others”, Nkondo takes on the questions of difference, otherness, mutual recognition
and solidarity in the age of Covid-19. In the search for others, he considers (albeit
briefly) why there has been a tendency in modern history to focus on difference and
power. Hopefully this will contribute to debates on configurations and reconfigurations
of identity, belonging, place and solidarity, and the ways in which the global solidarity
movement employs existential dread, reverence for life, mutual recognition and fellow-
feeling, to reveal a fundamental human disposition and orientation. Expanding the
scope of his analysis, Nkondo also analyses the limits of the market economy and the
global flow of capital in the service of political, market and knowledge elites.

References
Austin, J. L. (1980). How to do things with words. Oxford University Press.
Berman, H. J. (1983). Law and revolution: The formation of the Western legal tradition. Harvard
University Press.
Bilchitz, D. (2007). Poverty and fundamental rights: The justification and enforcement of
socioeconomic rights. Oxford University Press.
Bond, P. (2016). South Africa’s next revolt. In L. Panitch & G. Albo (Eds.), Rethinking revolution
(pp. 161–185). The Merlin Press.
Bourdieu, N. (1998). On television and journalism. Pluto Press.
Calata, L., & Calata, A. (2018). My father died for this. Tafelberg.
Chomsky, N. (2011). On anarchism. Penguin.
Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (1983). Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and schizophrenia. University of
Minnesota Press.
Deonandan, K., Close, D., & Provost, G. (Eds.). (2007). From revolutionary movements to political
parties: Cases from Latin America and Africa. Palgrave Macmillan.
Eliot, T. S. (2014). Selected essays, 1917–1932. HMH.
Fischer, F. (2003). Reframing public policy: Discursive politics and deliberative practices. Oxford
University Press.
Foucault, M. (1969). The archaeology of knowledge. Tavistock.
Freud, S. (1957). Mourning and melancholy. In J. Stackey (Ed. and Trans.), The standard edition
of the complete psychological work of Sigmund Freud (vol. 14) (pp. 237–258). Norton.
Kay, J., & King, M. (2020). Radical uncertainty: Decision making for an unknowable future. The
Bridge Street Press.
Laclau, E. (2005). On populist reason. Verso.

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Meierhenrich, J. (2009). The legacies of law: Long-run consequences of legal development in

South Africa, 1652–2000. Cambridge University Press.
Miller, J. H. (1995). Topographies. Stanford University Press.
Morrison, T. (2017). The origin of others. Harvard University Press.
Ngcukaitobi, T. (2018). The land is ours: South Africa’s black lawyers and the birth of
constitutionalism. Penguin Books, Random House
Panitch, L., & Albo, A. (Eds.). (2016). Rethinking revolution. The Merlin Press.
Plehwe, D., Walpen, B., & Neunhoffer, G. (2012). Neoliberal hegemony: A global critique. Taylor
& Francis.
Southall, R. (2003). Limits in liberalism in southern Africa. HSRC Press.
Tharu, S. J., & Lalita, K. (1993). Women’s writing in India: 600 BC to the present. Oxford University
Press.
Therborn, G. (2016). An age of progress. New Left Review, 99 (May/June), 37.
Tinker, H. (1987). Men who overturned empires: Fighters, dreamers, and schemers. Macmillan.
Tiro, G. (2019). Parcel of death: The biography of Onkgopotse Abram Tiro. Picador Africa.
Tomaselli, K. G., Tomaselli, R., & Muller, J. (1987). The press in South Africa. James Currey.
Walsh, F., & McGoldrick, M. (Eds.). (2004). Living beyond loss: Death in the family. W. W. Norton
& Co.
Wolfreys, J. (2004). Thinking difference: Critics in conversation. Fordham University Press.
Young, R. C. (2016). Postcolonialism: An historical introduction. Wiley Blackwell.

XXXV
 CHAPTER 1

CONTRADICTIONS IN
MEMORIALISING LIBERATION
HISTORY1

Albie Sachs
albie@albiesachs.com

Who in this room can remember where you were on 6 April 1952? The only time when I
saw lots of hands go up after I had asked this question, was when I spoke in Hermanus
at a literary book fair where everyone was in their 80s or 90s.
Another question. Can anybody here say why 6 April 1952 was a special day in South
Africa? The answer is that it had been 300 years since a certain Jan van Riebeeck
had landed not far from here, and put up the Dutch East India Company flag. And
that, we had learned in school, was when the history of South Africa started. And, can
you imagine it now, the Afrikaner Nationalist government, who had campaigned on
this word called “apartheid”, introducing the word into the English language having
come to power in 1948, in 1952 were celebrating 300 years of white domination. The
armoured cars were going down the street and the planes were flying overhead. And
about 200 of us were in a hall not much bigger than this, not nearly as smart as this,
the Salt River Town Hall, and we were singing, 190 black people and ten white people.
In those days the songs were very sad. [Sings] Mayibuye, Mayibuye iAfrika… Very,
very sad. Do you still sing that?

[Sings] Senzeni na? Senzeni na?...

[Sings] Dr Moroka, Dr Dadoo, J. B. Marx, Kotane le Bopape.
Volunteers obey the orders, volunteers obey the orders,
be ready for the action now.

And they are calling for volunteers. Now why am I telling you this?
There are two ways you, as archivists and historians, can deal with events like the
Defiance Campaign. You can set out all the laws, you can have copies of the statutes,
and you can say that so many thousands of people were arrested, these were the aims

1 Guest speaker paper presentation delivered on October 9, 2018, at the official opening of the 15th Oral
History Conference held at the Milnerton Library in Cape Town.

1
ALBIE SACHS

and objects—important history. But I am transmitting history to you now in a different

way. I’m trying to convey the setting, the sense of the white domination oppression, and
the small group of people challenging it, to provoke the question in your minds: What is
a young white guy doing, being involved in a movement like this? Where does he come
from? I want you to feel the new militancy emerging in the songs, how these sad songs
from oppressed people changed, how even the body language was different. I want
to share my existential dilemma at the time. I said to my friend, Wolfie Kodesh, who
was sitting next to me, “They’re calling for volunteers, they’re calling for volunteers!”
People were going up. I said, “I want to join.” Wolfie said, “You can’t.” I asked, “Why?”
He said, “Because you are white.” I said, “But we’re fighting racism?” He said, “It’s a
black struggle led by black people.” Now you could find long and interesting political
statements about non-racialism, yet I think this conversation provides a sharper
understanding of the tensions of our history at the time.
Six months later, as it happened, I’m leading four whites, including Mary Butcher who
later married Ben Turok, into the General Post Office to sit down on a bench marked
“Non-whites only”. Now if you look purely at documentary evidence, and if they still
have records of the proceedings at the Cape Town Magistrate’s Court, it would have
been in December 1952, after I had written my end-of-year UCT Law School exams, you
would see that one of the accused was a 17-year-old juvenile who was sent home to his
mother because he was under-age to stand trial. If that was all, you wouldn’t know that
my mother, Ray Edwards, who had been the typist for Moses Kotane, General Secretary
of the Communist Party, would have been anxious, for sure, but also proud of her son
undertaking his first political act.
Documentary history is extremely valuable, but can be extremely limited. Documents
on their own can exclude the passion, the emotion and the contradictions. They can also
express the biased point of view of the people who made and kept them. They speak
not only to a limited history, but also to a distorted narrative that claims to be objective
because the documents are there in physical form. But there is a greater truth than
that contained in the document that has existed all this time and is recorded there
with the date, the name of the magistrate and the name of the accused (the juvenile). I
believe my spoken and sung story can convey far more meaningful information than
what the court record contains.
I move forward to about ten years ago, when I was invited to speak to the British
Institute of Archivists. I don’t know why they asked me; I never studied archivism. In
any event, they made the request and I reasoned that “if they are crazy enough to ask
me, then I’m crazy enough to accept”. I thought and thought and I consulted people
who were working in the archive field and I decided that I’m going to prepare for this
challenge. Eventually, I’m standing up to speak, there were about 500 of them in a big
room at the University of London, Senate House. Somebody had told me that the joke
in England was that you could tell that someone is a librarian, because when a librarian
is speaking to you, he or she does not look you in the eye but looks down at your feet.
In the case of an archivist, however, he or she does not even look down at your feet, he
or she looks down at their own feet. I wish the joke teller could have been here today to
see archivists who are lively, spirited people, who move and engage with life, and who
look you straight, straight, straight in the eye.

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 CONTRADICTIONS IN MEMORIALISING LIBERATION HISTORY

In any event, I started my presentation by saying that when I woke up in the hotel
this morning, I had a splitting headache. I felt totally displaced. They called for the hotel
doctor and he came to see me and he said, “You are a South African, aren’t you? I can
tell from your accent.” I said, “Yes.” He said, “I can tell what’s wrong. You are suffering
from archive fever.” This was shortly after the French philosopher-historian Derrida
had come to South Africa and caused an enormous upset in the archive community—
he was challenging the power of the archives, the objectivity of these documents. As
documents, they were seen to be of special quality because they were ancient and
had survived. And he is making me think about our official documents in South Africa.
Who made them? They were made by the colonists. A step further, they were made
by the colonists who were in power over the other colonists. So, they represented an
official version of what was happening in the style, the language, with the arrogance
of the upper-crust section of the white rulers of that past. The events recorded, had
happened. But the way they were written up can be challenged. But the problem goes
much further.
A huge amount of South African experience is not only excluded, it is trampled upon,
it is denied, it’s made invisible. So where are the stories of the poor, even amongst the
colonisers? Where are the stories of the women, even amongst the colonisers? And,
far more substantial, where are the original stories of the inhabitants of Cape Town at
that stage, the Khoi-San people? They are not there. And of the slaves kidnapped and
transported to the Cape? I personally could feel that so sharply as I sat in the National
Archives. In my home, Moses Kotane had been a central point of reference in my
life. We were dreaming of a revolution and change, where our heroes had not been the
colonists but the indigenous people. It was a completely different world; a completely
different universe. Even though I was white, I grew up with this contradiction of learning
history in school from the point of view of the official historians, and yet living at home
in an environment where we were not only challenging that history, but trying to
overturn it, to destroy it, to transform it completely. We were saying: What about the
histories and the lives of our people? The stories that were passed on in the ranks of
those in the struggle, from generation to generation? The history of people who were
on a strike not far from here, the members of the Food and Canning Workers’ Union
in Paarl and Wellington? In Cape Town, the clothing workers not far from here, in the
Garment Workers’ Union? Why only the official words that were typed up or recorded
by the dominant and literate part of the population? What about the experiences, the
legends, the stories, the prayers, the statements, the battle cries, the songs of people
going to the gallows in Pretoria? They are all part of a huge system of memory that
was being excluded by the racial officialisation, by the limitation of the focus in the
production of the materials in our archives.
Yet with all these questions bubbling in my mind, I felt I could not fly all the way to
England just to say “archives are a waste of time, as they simply represent power and
domination—essentially colonial and racist—in the very project of recording events”. I
couldn’t just tell them that what’s worse, is they think that they are the good people
because they are recording history for new generations who can interpret them in any
way they like. So, I mentioned at the meeting in Senate House that, in fact, before

3
ALBIE SACHS

coming to London, I had been to the National Archives in Pretoria. I felt that was the
very least I could do.
And guess what I asked for when I got to the National Archives? It was: “Do you have
any references to Albie Sachs?” They looked and they looked and there was nothing.
Why? Because my official name is Albert Sachs! They did not have Albie Sachs, they
had Albert Sachs. In the security file documents—zero. Not a document. Yet they had
spied on me all the time. To this day I prefer not to use the telephone to say anything
personal, because of the years when my telephone was tapped, my office bugged,
my person followed. The Security Branch had informers everywhere. If I see someone
here taking notes, I think, great, you are interested in what I am saying. In those days
everything taken down would go straight to the Special Branch files. Now all these files
had disappeared. My whole negative biography had been shredded.
But the archivists do bring me a file from the Ministry of Justice. In it I discover the
pages of my second banning order. It turned out that there had been some tension
between the Security Branch and the Ministry of Justice—the Ministry of Justice being a
little softer about the terms of the order. The minister banned me, but he did not place
me under house arrest, as the Security Branch were demanding. As I go through the
other documents I’m reminded of the dread, the constant dread, all the time, 24/7,
the dread of being arrested and of being thrown into jail, of solitary confinement and
the days and weeks I spent in solitary confinement, and, later, the torture by sleep
deprivation. I don’t want to go there, but I have to go there, I have to look.
I go through the files and I find a little piece of paper… Some of you are old enough
to remember the carbon paper, the carbon copies, remember? Long before computers,
electronics. It was a little pink flimsy paper page and it was a copy of a statement of
complaint that I’d made to the visiting magistrate when I was in 90-day detention. About
the sleep deprivation that I had been subjected to by the infamous Swanepoel, who
was the head of the team that kept me awake. I felt myself breaking and I collapsed on
the floor and as I was lying on the floor, they poured water on my face and they lifted me
up and they prised open my eyes. They did this again and again, and I started making
the statement. The worst days of my life, from which I have never, never fully recovered.
But I began the statement by saying that I am making the statement under duress, and
I explain what happened to me. Swanepoel was writing it all down, but I was confused
with regard to time and when I signed, he shuffled the papers around, and eliminated
the page dealing with the sleep deprivation, so I felt doubly defeated. And here, 40
years later, I see on this little pink page my statement made to the visiting magistrate a
week or so after the interrogation, recording the whole event. It is not important to the
world. In the scale of the treatment dished out to so many people who died or nearly
died, I think it is a very tiny incident. But for me it was important. It was a physical relic,
an object from that time, that somehow becomes a pointer to truth, a little reminder of
the tiny act of defiance on my part then, and of the value today of preserving physical
objects from the past.
So we end up asking: What matters? Is it the written word? Is it the spoken word?
And the answer is? It is both! Is there tension between the two? Yes. If it is written, it is
written by somebody in a particular position, for a particular purpose. The spoken word

4
 CONTRADICTIONS IN MEMORIALISING LIBERATION HISTORY

is much more fluid, spontaneous. And often there will be tensions and contradictions
between the two. But both are important.
It occurred to me that there are, in fact, five contradictions that we have to deal
with all the time in the world of memorialisation. The first one is the problem of
extraction. There is an inherent contradiction in memorialising anything; whether it is a
physical object in a museum, whether it is a film or a recording, it is no longer the actual
thing. The actual thing is organically connected to its production, to its meaning at the
time, to its social function, there and then. But that’s the very purpose of museums.
You extract something from its natural habitat and put it into a museum, hopefully in a
challenging and interesting way. You can place it in a glass box (like we had to look at
when on school visits … boring, boring), or you can do it in an exciting, interactive way.
Who wants to look at boxes of coins, one after the other?
Yet, boring or exciting, the fact is that once something is extracted from its
environment it is no longer the same thing. Is a butterfly that is pinned to the wall
still a butterfly? A real butterfly floats and moves and changes from a caterpillar and
a larva into a butterfly. It has a life cycle. A pinned-up butterfly can be very beautiful,
very elegant. You can note the colours as we had to do at school, the parts of its
body. But that thing in a glass on the wall is not really a butterfly, it’s simply an ossified
representation of one.
The same applies to the documents that we get in archives, and that you are now
going to memorialise as oral histories. The whole point about oral history is that it is an
oral history, conveyed personally, by mouth. So here it is an oral history which is now
going to a physical or electronic library. It is no longer an oral history, because here it
is. A little while ago, my friend, colleague and comrade was reading an oral history from
this platform. This is a contradiction, because what he was reading was a literary form
of an oral presentation. But we live with that contradiction, and we manage it in a way
that has to be fair and useful and open-ended. It is important that what we believe to
be true is an accurate reflection of history as experienced and lived by millions, in an
evidential form, recognised by the actor and as acknowledged generally by historians
throughout the world.
We have to denounce fake news designed to provoke fear and hatred on the basis
of false or distorted information. But the opposite of fake history is not correct history,
if by that is meant an official history declared to be correct by some authoritative body.
The very idea of a correct, definitive history, established for all time, is incorrect. At the
same time, we can definitely say there is such a thing as an incorrect history. Stories
falsified to support racist or misogynist or homophobic ideologies … but that is another
tale for another day.
I agree totally with the point which the deputy minister made, that we really need to
turn our history inside out and upside down, backwards and forwards. Absolutely. We
can make it a big story. But we must not believe that we have found The (with a capital
T) Correct (with a capital C) history. History subverts itself, new information comes to
light, new perspectives on the old history are always arriving, and the dynamic quality
is there. What we have to do in the here and now is to introduce more voices, multiple
visions, to acknowledge the contradictions, acknowledge that while there are elements

5
ALBIE SACHS

of fact or of substance, of dependability that are foundational to the story, there is also
an inherent variability in our understanding of history.
The first contradiction I have touched upon today, then, is the contradiction arising
from the recording of the song, of the words being torn from the original context in
which the song was made, and converted into a catalogued library object.
The second contradiction comes from the almost invariable focus in creating the
historical narrative on the lives and deeds of the already famous. So, today we are
celebrating the centenary of Mama Sisulu and of Madiba, Nelson Mandela. And we
are absolutely right to do so. But I was pleased to hear that Robert Sobukwe was also
included, and that Steve Biko would be included as well, and many others. It is right
and necessary to do so, not only because of their personal exemplary qualities, but
because we can learn so much from their lives, from the things they went through.
And yet there is a huge danger in focusing on the heroes, the exemplary figures,
however wide the range. In a very paradoxical way, the greater the hero, the more
disempowered the learner feels. “Oh no, I can’t be brave like that. I’m not going to jail
for 27 years. I don’t belong to that world, the one that was so epic.” The reality is that
today we are not living in that same epic world anymore. It required epic courage to
resist apartheid in those times. You had to be willing to give your life for the project. We
were. We were! Now, however, it is a little bit absurd to say, “I am willing to give my life
for this change, or that change, or the other.” You’ve got the vote, you’ve got rights, you
can campaign, you can use the press, and you can mobilise in the streets. It doesn’t
make sense anymore to offer your life to further your beliefs.
I’m going to deal later on with the issues that arise from the creation of the Museum
and Archive on Constitution Hill (March) that we are constructing. But one of the
tensions I will deal with now is how to aggregate, connect up, the lives of prominent
leaders, the big figures, exemplary (if also flawed), with the role played by ordinary
people.
Let me tell you about the time when we visited the African-American Museum of
History and Culture in Washington. It was the most difficult museum to get into. Have
you ever heard of a museum that is difficult to get into, because the queues are so
long? And they don’t offer popcorn to get people to go there. You have to book to
get into that museum. One reason is that their whole focus has been on the lived
experiences of ordinary African Americans. Even the story of Emmett Till, who was
murdered, railroaded by the US justice system, is told not through him, but through his
mother who campaigned all her life to expose the murder of her son. Nearly half the
population are mothers. They can identify with the role of a mother much easier than
they can with that of the hero who was killed.
So, getting the balance right to the contradiction is another important aspect. It does
not mean that we eliminate the big, major figures. But it does suggest that the stories
of ordinary people must be the main point of departure. So, one of the exhibits we are
going to have at the museum on Constitution Hill is the dress that one of the couriers in
the struggle used to wear, with a big hem at the bottom in which she could put all sorts
of things when she crossed the frontier back to South Africa. Then everybody looking
at that dress can say, “Gosh, you know, the struggle included ordinary people doing
their bit for the bigger objectives.” And so you can identify with, and feel connected to,

6
 CONTRADICTIONS IN MEMORIALISING LIBERATION HISTORY

the freedom struggle in a way that you won’t be able to do if it’s always just Mandela,
Mandela, Mandela or Ma Sisulu, Ma Sisulu, Ma Sisulu.
The third contradiction has been beautifully illustrated by the proceedings here. It
is that between what I call “cold knowledge” and “warm knowledge”. Cold knowledge
is scientific, verifiable facts—you can replicate cause and effect. It’s objective. One
and one makes two. And cold knowledge has been hugely important for humanity, for
scientific development, for going to the moon and conquering disease. Sometimes it
has worked for evil, to create atomic bombs and destruction, sometimes for good, such
as antiretrovirals that turned our country around and gave dignity to millions of people
living with HIV and hope to the country as a whole.
Warm knowledge, on the other hand, is knowledge transmitted through traditional
means, through song, through prayer, through incantation and dance. It is not verifiable
or replicable in the same way as cold knowledge. That is not the point of it. It is meant
rather to be a vehicle of human connection, working in a completely different way to
cold, objective information. Accepting the significance and value of warm knowledge
has been hard for me. I grew up in a family that believed in conquering what we called
“backwardness”, “superstition” and “ignorance”, using the light of knowledge and
science to do so. But I can see how our approach was too harsh, too exclusive and too
disrespectful of the meaning of warm knowledge for people throughout the world. Even
if I can’t understand what the traditionalists are saying, I can feel the emotion, I can
feel the connection with the audience. That is warm knowledge. It is not dependent on
the ability to replicate cause and effect, the verifiability of hard evidence in a controlled
environment; it is not contained as wisdom in a document. It is interpersonal and
interactive by its very nature. And one of our huge possibilities in South Africa, in a way
which is almost unique in the world, is to connect warm knowledge with cold knowledge.
It’s not simply to reduce the warmth of warm knowledge, to bring its temperature down
so that we can find cold, hard information in it, such as the properties in plants used
for healing that you can then use to make medicines that will earn money for the
community. Of course we want that. But we need something more profound, something
that is stronger than the mere sifting out of verifiable data on the one hand, or the not
driving underground of practices that you consider harmful, on the other. We have to
find a way to embrace different forms of knowledge that are extremely meaningful to
millions, appreciating their significance as highly relevant to our political debates, our
scientific and educational debates. We have to learn to handle—in a beneficent way—
the contradiction between cold and warm knowledge.
In practical terms, as far as oral history is concerned, the question is: Do we only
record the stories, in English, of participants in our history who can give us dependable
information of a factual kind of what people said, did and thought at particular
moments in particular places? Or do we also record, in the multiple languages of the
country, the incantations, chants, blessings, curses, visions, prayers and prophecies
of the priests, prophets and healers in whom many people repose their innermost
trust? If the latter, how do we do so without being disrespectful and intrusive? And how
do we later arrange the materials and provide meaningful access to them?
The fourth contradiction, found all over the world, relates to English, the language
I am using now, the language that I know. English is so dominant that it does not

7
ALBIE SACHS

leave much room for other languages. What is the answer? Not to destroy English. It’s
useful to have a common language for flying aeroplanes and doing other things we
need (or think we need). But, it should not oust the relevance of other languages and
multilingualism for the purposes of memory, thought, emotional experience, meaning,
a sense of dignity, of who you are, your being and the way you interact with others.
This is one of our problems facing March. We can’t produce everything in 11 languages.
If we did so, you wouldn’t be able to see any exhibits—all you would see would be signs
in 11 languages. By contrast, having everything in English is exclusionary. Yes, English
is a facilitator to visitors from all over the world. It has become the major medium for
international communication. But the exclusive use of English prevents the museum
from being a place where people say, “Yes, yes, this is my history, this is our history,
this is where we fit in today, where we are recognised for being who we are.” So, we
have to find practical language methodologies that are functional; that are economic in
relation to your eyes, your brain and your knowledge systems, while at the same time
truly respecting the fact that we have 11 official languages in this country, and each is
entitled to equality of esteem.
The last contradiction is the tension that emerges in all museums all over the world,
from regarding visitors as pure recipients of information and knowledge, and the
exhibitors as the origin and source of information—all-wise, all-knowing and supremely
certain, and not the active producers of knowledge themselves. This relationship in
South Africa is especially unfortunate. So many people have been denied full access
to education, to travel, to information. But in any museum anywhere in the world, it’s a
problem that has to be dealt with.
Now there are, of course, all sorts of gizmos, gimmicks and so on—interactives is
the name of the game—to give the visitor a role as participant, not just recipient. We
need them. But we need something more profound than interactive exhibits. We
need to facilitate the enjoyment of an intangible yet deeply felt experience, as argued
by Dr Nomalanga Mkhize, one of the key persons working with the March team to
transform the museum into a space of exploration, discovery and delight for the African
child. Why for the African child? Partly because more than 80 per cent of children in
South Africa are black Africans. But, more importantly, because until now museums
were constructed to depict the discovery and colonisation of the Dark Continent. The
narrative, the ambiance, the texture, even the physical structure and signage of the
buildings had a consciously European stamp. The language, the culture, the history,
the cuisine, the songs, the customs, the spirit of being African are not there. The
Constitutional Court on Constitution Hill, I’m happy to say, is a good example of what
can be done. It was built on decolonised principles before the term “decolonisation”
was commonly used in South Africa. It is a great source of delight for all. The museum
must be a space where African children feel simultaneously completely at home and
totally transported to another place.
Making March welcoming and inviting to the African child by no means implies that if
you are not of black African origin you are not welcome, or please go round to the back
door. On the contrary: we want it to be a place of entrancement and discovery for all
children, and a place where people of all ages feel at home. I think of people from the
Indian and coloured communities who played such a big role in the freedom struggle,

8
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 Reggio-Calabria.
Cottages of standard type 500

Villagio Regina Elena.

Cottages of semidetached type, each 16×20 75
Hospital Elizabeth Griscom, equivalent in material used to
30 houses; plumbing, lighting, and furnishing done by
Her Majesty’s staff 30

Palmi and District.

Cottage of special smaller type built, 13×16×10, as a model,
complete, and frame for a second built 1
Material sent to this district for other such houses 500

Ali and Surrounding District.

Portable houses erected 49
Houses of Palmi type built as models 5
Roccalumera 3, Santa Teresa Riva 2, Nizza-Sicilia 2
(models of Palmi type built) 7
Material sent to this district for houses of this type 300
Total built by American construction party 1,898
Total number of houses furnished 3,097
VITTORIO EMANUELE, KING OF ITALY.
 ELENA, QUEEN OF ITALY.

Captain Belknap, on the 10th instant, consigned the completed

work at Messina to the Ministry of Public Works, who then assumed
charge.
 Ensign Robert W. Spofford, U. S. N., remained to direct the work
in general until it had become well organized under the new
direction. He will also supervise the completion of certain work being
done by contract not yet completed.

Commander Belknap’s Work.

Mr. Griscom says: “The report of Captain Belknap is worthy of
careful study. Its only fault is that it does not do justice to his work. I
feel that it is incumbent upon me to endeavor to express to you the
admiration I have for the manner in which Lieutenant-Commander
Belknap has performed his duty. The magnitude of the task could
only be appreciated by one who has been on the spot and seen the
difficulties as they arose and witnessed the courageous and adroit
manner in which he overcame all obstacles and carried to successful
conclusion a work which is truly remarkable. The departure of
Lieutenant-Commander Belknap from Messina was a veritable
personal triumph. All the highest military and civil authorities were
present at the steamship landing, together with a military band, and
he was given full military honors and received a remarkable and
spontaneous public demonstration of admiration. He and several of
his assistants were formally made citizens of Messina. To-day he
has been formally received by their majesties, the King and Queen
of Italy, and had extended to him their majesties’ personal
expressions of gratitude.”

Commander Belknap’s Tributes to His

Assistants.
Before closing this report, I beg to mention those who have
labored so energetically and faithfully to bring about results which
have been kindly commended by all who have visited the camps.
The special prominence of the services rendered by Tonente di
Vascello Alfredo Brofferio stand apart from all else. He worked
unremittingly in the closest association with us, his duties touching
every feature of the work, and it would be impossible to place too
high a value upon his far-seeing, conscientious, and self-sacrificing
devotion to our success.
The Italian authorities’ cordial attitude toward us and hospitable
care made away with innumerable difficulties. To their magnanimity
and their earnest devotion to their own duties was due their sincere
appreciation of our efforts and their frank and grateful
acknowledgment of our gift to their cities.
Commander Harry P. Huse, U. S. N., commanding the U. S. S.
Celtic, established us on a living and working basis in our camp at
Messina, the Celtic serving as our base until the first group of
houses were ready for us, and he was most felicitous in all that he
did to promote a genuine feeling of cordiality in our relations with the
authorities.
Lieutenant-Commander George Wood Logan, commanding the U.
S. S. Scorpion, gave his most cordial support and interest in the
undertaking from the first, and placed every facility at our disposal.
Lieutenant Allen Buchanan, U. S. N., was the mainstay in the
executive work, and I was always able to rely on his good judgment
on the frequent occasions when taking counsel was necessary. He
discharged his duty with unremitting industry and exemplary zeal,
and he left behind him in Messina and among the members of our
organization a feeling of the most uniform good will and admiration
for his character and ability as an officer.
Ensign John W. Wilcox was in charge of the Reggio division of the
work, which he managed with exceptional skill. He had many
difficulties to contend against, but solved them with an ease and
discernment that an officer of long experience might envy.
 THE ORIGINAL MEMBERS OF THE EXPEDITION, MESSINA.

Ensign Robert W. Spofford, U. S. N., had charge of the unloading

of steamers. He has done excellent work and is left in charge of the
work being completed at Messina. To Assistant Surgeon Donelson,
U. S. N., for medical supervision of the camp, and to Pay Inspector
J. A. Mudd, U. S. N., for the care taken in the shipment of the
building materials from America, Captain Belknap gives high praise.
The enlisted men of the Navy performed their work most faithfully,
and Captain Belknap mentions many of them by name. This country
may well be proud of the splendid work of the officers and men of
our Navy so far outside their regular duties. Captain Belknap says
also that thanks are due to Mr. John Elliott, who was a most devoted
worker, and left his beautifying touch on every part of the work. Mr.
H. W. C. Bowdoin and Mr. Charles King Wood were among the other
tireless and efficient volunteer workers to whom our thanks are due.
And finally, many of the master carpenters sent from America gave
most satisfactory and valuable service under difficult conditions.

Committee on American Offerings.

 Of this committee Mr. Griscom says: “As you already know, after
consultation with his excellency, the Minister of Foreign Affairs,
Signor Tittoni, I placed the sum of 256,250 lire (the equivalent of
$50,000) in the hands of a committee appointed by Mr. Tittoni, of
which his wife, Donna Bice Tittoni, was Chairman. This committee
has to-day handed to me its report and accompanying vouchers,
which are transmitted to you herewith under separate cover. I am
satisfied that this committee carried out some of the best
rehabilitation work which has been done since the earthquake. It was
done in a rapid and businesslike way.”

The American Red Cross Orphanage.

Signor Bruno Chimirri, Chairman of the Committee on Orphans,
called the “Patronato Regina Elena,” reports: “Being desirous of
expediting the plant of the colony before the departure of the
Ambassador from Rome, and not wishing to touch one single lire of
the American capital, the Patronato voted 200,000 lire (about
$40,000) for the building of the colony. This depended upon us, and
it has been done. As to the choice of a site upon which it will be
erected, it is not a question of choosing any piece of land, but a
ground within the jurisdiction of the Itinerant Chair of Agriculture, in
order to secure not only gratuitous teaching but also the very best
obtainable. With this end in view, two months ago I addressed myself
to the Minister of Agriculture, upon whom depends the Itinerant Chair
that has to choose a suitable locality. I have finally brought the
matter before the House of Deputies. Nor is this all. In order to
facilitate the negotiations for the purchase of the land, since the
Ministry would not consider the price of the proprietor, I have induced
the municipality of Nicastro to contribute to the expense by paying
the difference, as you will see by a copy of their decision appended
hereto. As soon as we receive an answer we shall send the
Professor of the Itinerant Chair to visit the proffered land, and, if his
report is favorable, we shall hasten to secure possession and lay the
cornerstone before Mr. Griscom’s departure.”
 The Italian government consented to pay $4,800 for the land, and
the District of Nicastro voted to contribute the balance of the $6,000
which was asked.
In regard to this Orphanage there is given an open letter to the
American Red Cross from Mr. Anthony Matre, Secretary of the
American Federation of Catholic Societies. This letter was published
in some of the prominent Roman Catholic papers before it even
reached the hands of the officers of the American Red Cross, an act
that can hardly be considered courteous. It was referred by the
Chairman of the Executive Committee of the American Red Cross to
our Ambassador at Rome, and his reply is embodied in an answer to
Mr. Matre. As the Roman Catholic Church made appeals for the
Italian sufferers, and the offerings it received in reply were sent to the
Pope, it is probable that but a very small percentage of the
contributions received by the Red Cross, possibly 5 or 10 per cent,
came from members of the Roman Catholic Church. The receipts
show many contributions from Protestant Churches and Sunday
Schools, but none from any Roman Catholic institution, and yet,
according to Mr. Matre’s figures, some 97 per cent, and, according to
Mr. Griscom’s letter, 99 per cent, of these contributions must have
been expended in Italy for the people of this faith. Of the funds sent
to our Ambassador, a generous contribution was made to the Pope
for the relief work in which he was interested, and other moneys
were placed in the hands of bishops and priests in the stricken
district to aid them in their work for the earthquake sufferers. The
Red Cross considers neither race nor creed; its mission is to
mitigate, as far as lies within its power, the sufferings of the sick and
wounded in the misfortune of war or of the victims of fire, flood,
famine, earthquake, pestilence, and other great disasters.
The following copies of correspondence will be of interest:
St. Louis, Mo., March 22, 1909.
To the President, Secretary, and Officers of the American Red Cross
Association:
Gentlemen: The American Federation of Catholic Societies,
representing millions of American Catholics, desire official
information regarding the dispatch published in the papers of the
United States on February 8th, and referring to an appropriation
made by your society. The dispatch reads:

“Rome, Feb. 7.—It is officially declared that the American

Red Cross, through Ambassador Griscom, has put $250,000
at the disposal of the committee organized by Queen Helena,
which has undertaken the establishment of an orphanage to
be devoted to the care of children left homeless and without
parents by the earthquake disaster.”

THE ENLISTED MEN OF THE UNITED STATES NAVY, MESSINA.

Under date of February 6, 1909, the Civilta Cattolica, published at

Rome, states that a national patronage of orphans, under the name
of “Queen Helena,” has been erected by decree of the 14th of
January, and to it has been granted all legal rights for the protection
of orphans who have suffered by the recent calamity or who will
need protection on account of any future disaster; that the direct
administration of this orphanage is committed to a council, half of
whose membership shall be appointed by royal authority and the
other half by election or choice of those contributing annually to its
support.
In the same paper, the Civilta Cattolica, of February 20, 1909,
appears the following: “There has been appointed to the Presidency
of the National Committee the Mayor of the first city of Italy, Erneste
Nathan, a Hebrew, a very bitter enemy of Catholicism.” The same
issue states that the National Committee has appointed three
women to take charge of “Patronato Nazionale Regina Elene,”
namely, Turin, an unknown woman, a Socialist and Freemason;
Labriola, a Protestant woman (a Valdensian Protestant), and Levi, a
Jewess. To them was confided the care of all orphans brought to
Naples from the scene of the disaster. This charge was taken from
the Nepolitan authorities because they were good Catholics.
The Civilta Cattolica states: “It is evident from the entire policy of
the National Committee that the Pope was refused all voice in the
disposition of the orphans. He never entered into the committee’s
consideration, except that it is trying and succeeding in hampering
his efforts everywhere, for instance:

1. The government, i. e., the National Committee, refused

to send any of the wounded to the hospital of Santa Marta in
Rome, so that the Knights of Malta have to make up a train
themselves to go to Naples in order to get the wounded.
2. The Catholic officers of the Spanish ship Cataluna were
hampered in the gathering of the wounded and orphans at
Messina to take them to Rome for disposition of the Pope.
This ship has been placed under direct control of the Pope by
the Count of Comillas, the owner.
3. The Pope was interfered with in placing orphans in the
care of the French priest, Santol. (The Pope has offered to
care for 2,000 earthquake orphans, one-half of whom were to
be put in charge of Father Santol.)”

From the above it appears that part of the money contributed by

our fellow-citizens, irrespective of creed and nationality, is being
used by missionary societies and others against Catholicity. Some of
our Catholic fellow-citizens feared that such would likely be the case,
but they nevertheless contributed liberally, thinking that in such a
crisis and such distress haste was necessary and bigotry would not
be allowed to have part. But from the above statements it is evident
that their fears were well founded, and if it turns out that the
statements are true, the Red Cross Society, though splendid in its
aims, will never be trusted again by the 15,000,000 of Catholics in
this country, nor by the 270,000,000 Catholics the world over.
Your organization is no doubt aware that all civilized countries now
acknowledge the right of the child to be educated in the religion of its
parents, and though the Red Cross Society of America may not have
anything to do with the education of these children without religion, it
has the right and duty to protest against funds sent from America
being used in such a way as to outrage justice.
It will not be amiss to show you how few Protestants there are in
Italy:
Last summer at the International Congress of Religious Liberals,
held in Boston, Rev. Tony Andre, of Italy, gave these statistics: “Italy
is essentially a Catholic country. Out of the 32,475,253 inhabitants
enumerated in the census of 1901, 31,539,863 declared themselves
Catholics; that is, 97.12 per cent of the population. All told there were
65,595 Protestants, 20,538 of whom were foreigners. At the same
time, 795,276 were unwilling to say to what religion they belonged,
and 36,092 declared they were of no religion.” This will show that
practically all the children to be cared for are Catholics.
We address this open letter to your society and expect that you
will give the matter referred to therein immediate investigation and
consideration.
Very respectfully, yours,
THE AMERICAN FED. OF CATH. SOCIETIES.
ANTHONY MATRE, National Secretary.
July 9, 1909.
Mr. Anthony Matre,
Secretary, American Federation of Catholic Societies, St. Louis,
Mo.
Dear Sir: The American Red Cross is in receipt of the expected
reply from the American Ambassador at Rome to an inquiry of the
Embassy adverted to in my letter to you dated April 12, 1909.
Mr. Griscom states that there was no true basis for the statement
published in the Catholic Transcript in Rome and quoted by you in
the open letter, whereby you charged the American Red Cross with
grave wrong to the Italian children made orphans by the earthquake
of December 28, 1908, the offense consisting in the assignment of
the control of the American Red Cross Italian Orphanage, and the
instruction and rearing of these orphans to non-Catholics, such as
Hebrews, Masons, and Socialists.

AFTER WORKING HOURS, MESSINA.

Mr. Griscom, to whom I sent a copy of your attack upon the Red
Cross, brought the matter to the attention of Countess Spalletti
Rasponi, the President of the Queen’s Orphanage, who, as such,
has general supervision over the branch of the same known as the
American Red Cross Orphanage, and for which latter Mr. Bruno
Chimerri is Chairman of the Executive Committee.
The following is a translation of a quotation from a letter from the
Countess Spalletti to Mr. Griscom, the American Ambassador, dated
Rome, April 19, 1909:
“After reading the article published in the Catholic Transcript of
March 25, 1909, I consider myself, as the President of the Queen’s
Orphanage, bound to reassure your excellency, and send you some
information regarding the system pursued by those placed in control
of the orphans in choosing a place for the orphans and abandoned
minors, with the tutelage of whom we have been charged by the
royal decree, dated January 14, 1909.
“The number of wretched creatures left destitute of any support
and guidance being considerable, we have undertaken to take the
place, as far as possible, of the parents in their education and start in
life. We have proceeded in accordance with this principle, and have
decided that the minors should be, as far as possible, brought up in
the religion of their parents, and educated in conformity with the
conditions in which their families were, with the only tendency to
ameliorate those conditions. We consider it to be our duty to bring up
these children in the religion of their parents.
“Referring to the article published in the Catholic Transcript, I have
to point out that the Mayor of Rome, Mr. Nathan, is not the President
of the Queen’s Orphanage. He has no connection with it whatever,
but is President of the Executive Board of the Central Relief
Committee for the earthquake sufferers, of which committee his royal
highness, the Duke of Aosta, is the President....
“It is, moreover, to be noted that the President of the Palmi
Subcommittee is the Bishop of Milito, Monsignor Morabito. Our
representative in Messina has been another most worthy Catholic
Priest, the Rev. Luigi Orione.
“I am confident that this summary will be sufficient to remove from
the souls of American Catholics all apprehensions.”
 In forwarding this letter, Mr. Griscom, our Ambassador to Rome,
remarks in substance:
“You will observe that the governing body of the Queen’s
Orphanage have exercised the greatest care to place Protestant
orphans in Protestant hands and Catholic orphans in Catholic hands.
I am satisfied that this wise policy has been consistently carried out.
American Protestant Missions have received the tutelage of the
children of the members of their missions in cases where there were
no surviving relatives to assume the burden. I am satisfied the
Catholic Transcript would not have published such an article had
they been in possession of the full facts....
“You will be interested in knowing that long before I heard from
you on this subject the head of one of our American Protestant
Missions in Rome stated to me that he understood our orphanage
was to be governed and managed by Catholic priests, and that the
Protestant contributors of money in America would never tolerate
such a thing. When I explained to him the policy of those in charge of
the Queen’s Orphanage in regard to orphans, he seemed thoroughly
satisfied. It is interesting that we should have received a protest from
the Protestant Church that the Catholics are being favored, and then
that the leading Catholic papers in America should publish an article
implying that the Catholics are receiving unfair treatment.
“The very nature of the organization and the legal status of the
orphanage work under the Queen’s patronage makes it impossible
that it should be governed in the interest of one denomination....
“In my opinion, the Queen’s Orphanage is entitled to our
admiration and respect for the very just and liberal policy adopted to
solve the very delicate questions raised by the different religious
denominations of the orphans. During the whole of this trying period I
have not received a single complaint from any of the American
Protestant Missions with regard to the disposition of the orphans
belonging to their denomination; nor has any complaint from a
Catholic source been brought to my knowledge until you forwarded
me the clipping from the Catholic Transcript. I am extremely
disappointed that such a fair-minded paper should have failed to do
justice to the perfectly correct course of the Italian authorities with
regard to the religion of the earthquake orphans.
“It goes without saying that a great part of the moneys which came
from America through the American Red Cross and otherwise went
to the assistance of Catholics. The money received by Protestant
Italians would be a minute fraction of 1 per cent. It seems strange
that there should be any expression of discontent from any Catholic
source.

MOVING-IN DAY. ONE OF THE FIRST FAMILIES TO OCCUPY AN AMERICAN

COTTAGE, MESSINA.

“On the other hand, I am most happy to say that we have the most
gratifying expressions of appreciation from such persons as
Archbishop Ireland, the Archbishop of Messina, the Bishop of Milito,
and other distinguished prelates of the Catholic Church.”
The Red Cross has no method of knowing how much or what part
of the amounts received for Italian earthquake relief (about
$1,000,000) was contributed by Catholics. Assuming that the
proportion this part bore to the whole was the same as the ratio of
the Catholic population of the United States to the whole population,
then the funds of Catholic origin, so to speak, received by the Red
Cross must have been one-seventh or one-sixth of the whole.
It seems to be established as a fact that there was no sufficient
basis for your charge that the American Red Cross had adopted a
course that would or did result in the perversion of faith of the
Catholic orphans. Those appointed by the King to the solemn trust of
rearing these orphans are discharging their duty conscientiously. The
prelates of the Catholic Church on the spot are thoroughly familiar
with what was ordered to be done and with what is being done in this
regard, and they will be careful to note and call attention to any
deviation from conditions imposed by royal warrant and by justice.
Your letter to me of March 22, 1909, was given to the press before
it reached me, and before you had taken pains to inquire into the
proofs relied on to support the assertions which were the basis for
your arraignment of the Red Cross.
I have sent copies of this letter to the Catholic press of the United
States, in the belief that the readers of the original charge are
entitled to know what are the actual facts respecting the measures
taken by those applying the generous contributions of American
Catholics and non-Catholics to insure the rearing and instruction of
the earthquake orphans in the faith of their fathers.
The American Ambassador in Rome is a member of the
permanent Executive Committee of the American Red Cross Italian
Orphanage.
Yours, very sincerely,
GEO. W. DAVIS,
Chairman, Central Committee.

Disposal of Balance of Italian Fund.

As the American Red Cross was desirous of bringing to an end its
Italian relief work, an inquiry was made of our Embassy in Rome as
to the best use to be made of a small balance of funds still in hand. It
was advised to contribute this amount to the Queen of Italy for the
benefit of her relief work in the model village of Regina Helena, built
for the refugees near Messina, and in which her majesty is deeply
interested. In acknowledgement of this gift of $5,000 the following
letter was sent to the American Ambassador:

Court of Her Majesty, the Queen, Rome, July 3, 1909.

Excellency: Her majesty, the Queen, has charged me to
request you to thank the American Red Cross for the relief it
has so generously given to the refugees of the Sicilian
disaster.
COUNT P. DI TRINITA.

Testimonials of Gratitude.
On June 19 the American Red Cross received from the Italian Red
Cross a beautiful gold medal and diploma as tokens of appreciation
of the assistance rendered by America after the earthquake in Sicily
and Calabria.
Cuts of the medal are shown herewith, and below are printed the
letter of the President of the Italian Red Cross transmitting the medal
and diploma, and the letter of the President of the American Red
Cross in acknowledgment.

Rome, Italy, April 19, 1909.

Illustrious Sir: In the never-to-be-forgotten calamity by
which she was overcome Italy has found but one solace. It
was to feel, to know, that the sorrow was universal, and that
the heart of the world throbbed in unison with hers.
Touching evidence of human solidarity came to us from
every part of your glorious Republic, but every burst of charity
was outdone by the Red Cross, over which you preside, sir,
and which assisted her Italian sister with a supreme
munificence of relief.
 May you find the medal and diploma we now send you as
tokens of our gratitude, of which, however, they are but a
modest outward sign, acceptable. More durably than in the
metal is our gratefulness engraved in the hearts of the
Italians, whose mindful blessings will stand as the sacred
heritage of the generations to come.
R. TAVERNA,
President, Italian Red Cross.
To the President of the American Red Cross,
Washington, D. C.

Washington, D. C., June 22, 1909.

Sir: I have received your courteous communication of April
19 last, with which you transmit a gold medal and diploma,
presented by the Italian National Red Cross to the American
National Red Cross, as testimonials of gratitude for the
contributions furnished by the latter for the sufferers from the
earthquakes in Calabria and Sicily.
As President of the American National Red Cross it affords
me great pleasure to accept these testimonials in behalf of
the association, not only because of their beauty and intrinsic
worth, but as tokens of the humanitarian spirit which joins the
world in fraternal kinship in times of great distress.
Not less valued that they are the sentiments of generous
appreciation on the part of the Italian Red Cross, to which you
give expression in your communication.
I beg you to be so good as to convey to the Italian Red
Cross the thanks and appreciation of the American Red Cross
for their considerate action, and am,
Very cordially, yours,
WM. H. TAFT,
President, American National Red Cross.
 Count R. Taverna,
President, Italian Red Cross.

Translation of Inscription on Medal Received

from the Italian Red Cross.

Inscription of the circle around the medal: To the well deserving of

the Italian Red Cross.
Inscription on medal: To the American National Red Cross: most
generous cooperation in the relief of the sufferers of the earthquake
in Calabria, Sicily, 1908.

Translation of Inscription on Diploma Received

from the Italian Red Cross Society.

ITALIAN RED CROSS.

Under the high patronage of their Majesties, the King and
the Queen, and of her Majesty, the Queen Mother.
Association incorporated by law of May 30, 1882. No. 768,
Side Series.
 Under Articles 115 and 116 of the Organic By-Laws, upon
the motion of the Honorable President of the Association of
the Central Committee, in its deliberations of the 3d of April,
1909, has been awarded the Diploma of Honor to the
American National Red Cross. Rome, April 3, 1909.
R. TAVERNA,
President of the Association.
A Token of Gratitude from the Italian Government.

On May 17 Miss Boardman received a letter from Baron Mayor

des Planches, the Italian Ambassador at Washington, of which a
translation is given below, with Miss Boardman’s reply:

Washington, D. C., May 17, 1909.

Dear Miss Boardman: Have you seen the Literary Digest
of the 15th, which betrays an official secret? The Minister of
Foreign Affairs, M. Tittoni, has written me that the government
of the King desired to send you a decoration, but
unfortunately the statutes of our chivalresque orders do not
permit the decoration of women. Our gratitude toward you will
be testified by an artistic gift, which we hope you will accept
as a souvenir of the benefits you have rendered.
Believe me, dear Miss Boardman, very sincerely,
E. MAYOR.

Washington, D. C., May 17, 1909.

Dear Mr. Ambassador: I have not seen the Literary
Digest to which you refer. Permit me to express my deep
appreciation of the intention of his majesty’s government to
present to me some testimonial in recognition of the American
Red Cross work in Italy.
It has been for some time the intention of our society to
take under consideration the question of permitting members