Long Walk To Freedom

Despite its pollution by the pushy commercial nonsense now all too “bon ton” in the modern Western world, the term “must read” does – I think – apply to some books also genuinely and morally.

HISTORICAL IMPORTANCE

I am referring to historical importance. Books that even would improve mankind if more people had read them. One of those “must read” book in my opinion is the autobiography 'Long Walk To Freedom', by Nelson Mandela (pubished in 1994). A well-known historical figure, of international – perhaps even universal – appeal –, Mandela as subject goes way beyond activist “niche” markets with particular interests, for, say, Africa, or “the Black struggle”.

Both these themes – Africa and the Black struggle – are of course more than “niche” interests, and in fact important to learn about global and human history for people of all races – in my opinion -, but are rather ignored compared to other themes. The white/European guilt complex about the colonial and slavery past explains this disinterest partly, as well as remaining racist and colonial notions. And material interests. Simply said: the US, Europe, but also Chinese, Japanese, or Arabs are economically too powerful to ignore (and just exploit). Africa unfortunately not yet so.

ANACHRONISM

Still, despite this bias among some white or non-African people, the person Nelson Mandela breaks in a sense through barriers, even of relatively closed minds. The blatantly racist Apartheid system in South Africa lasted up the early 1990s, and was met with moral indignation more and more throughout the world, including among liberal whites. Seemingly a remnant of Europe’s colonial past, the harsh discrimination and violence seemed an immoral anachronism, as Western powers claimed to have become more civilized.

In a superficial sense, Nelson Mandela became over time a welcome figurehead for the anti-Apartheid struggle for people worldwide, due to Mandela’s firm stance, yet also thoughtful, nonviolent, and dignified image.

Leaving all this - superficial “images”, white guilt, and liberal self-congratulations – aside, I just considered it time for me to finally read this autobiography by Nelson Mandela. I knew about these memoirs before, but did not have the time to read them yet. I also thought I had learned over time roughly enough about South Africa from different sources: books and articles, but also first-hand accounts by a white friend, who told me he had to leave South Africa during Apartheid, for his relationship with a Black African woman. I saw some good documentaries about it too,.. and some not so good ones too. Likewise, some good movies, and some bad (read: “too Hollywood”) movies too.

KNOWLEDGE GAPS

Still, there still were here subtle “knowledge gaps”. I am interested in persons, their life stories, especially of influential heroes and intriguing personalities like Nelson Mandela. Yet, admittedly, there were also some questions about that whole Apartheid period in South Africa I still had. I am relatively knowledgeable about colonial history – and African history - , but lack some knowledge about especially the recent history in South Africa. I thought this book could give me some answers.

To start with: the book was a very good and pleasant read. I even forgot soon it was relatively voluminous (over 750 pages). There’s a Dutch expression that translates as “it reads like a train”, meaning: an easy, good read. These memoirs by Mandela did indeed “read like a train”.

So did I learn new things? Yes, I did. Obviously about Nelson Mandela’s life story. I knew he was from the Xhosa ethnic group (some people might not even know that), speaking a pretty southern Bantu language (with clicks). He became more and more an opponent of racist colonialism forced upon his country South Africa by the British and other White colonizers, but first became a lawyer, also to help his people. Like with other people – and as is simply human -, his consciousness about the injustices grew over time.

What I learned most from this autobiography were the political changes in South Africa itself.

NAZISM

There is a protest song by African Reggae singer Alpha Blondy (hailing from Ivory Coast) titled Apartheid Is Nazism. This book taught me that this is not just metaphorical. Apparently, as Mandela explained, there was support and sympathy among the Afrikaners or Boers (White South Africans of mainly Dutch, Protestant descent) for Hitler’s Nazi regime in Germany in the 1930s/1940s. This went even beyond tensions between South African Whites of British or Boer/Afrikaner descent. South Africa was a British colony, in the commonwealth, and when Britain joined the allies in declaring war against Hitler Germany, South Africa automatically went along.

Yet, there was an opposing movement among some White Boers or Afrikaners in South Africa pleading for at least neutrality. Wars between Britain and the Boers have been fought, and this related to this, alongside conservative views. Well now, the Nasionale Partij (National Party) that established and expanded Apartheid in South Africa fully in 1948, was led by White Boers and Afrikaners, with leaders once openly supporting Nazi Germany, such as later prime-minister Vorster, who even went to prison for this stance.

Another main architect of Apartheid and segregation, the Amsterdam-born Hendrik Verwoerd, also seemed to have such Nazi sympathies, and chose to study in then Nazi-influenced Germany.

Links between Nazism and Apartheid continued, an example being the father of the now influential German billionaire Klaus Schwab, founder of the WEF, whose father was member of the Nazi party, and later worked with the Apartheid government/regime in South Africa. Some even note much similarities in the methods of Apartheid, especially “petty” daily-level policies – in the covid 19/corona pass “new normal” since 2020 – son Klaus Schwab seeks to promote, albeit now discriminating more on supposed medical grounds, than on racial grounds. Also, “lockdowns” became normalized since 2020, and are similar to control methods used by the Apartheid regime.

Since Hendrik Verwoerd – known as the architect of Apartheid - was thus an Amsterdam-born Dutchman, this Nazi sympathy cannot be explained by the fact that the Boers/Afrikaners were also partly of German descent (besides mainly of Dutch, and some French Huguenot descent). Presumably, the racial hierarchy fitted the time, and colonial culture and interests.

Identity and even more “ideology” after all almost always relate to “interests”, in my opinion. Delusional ideas about racial superiority and inferiority – and primitive ethnic pride – exist, but get mixed with colonial interests and properties, resulting in migrant whites treating indigenous Africans as burdens in their own country: insane, even psychopathic, but from this viewpoint explainable. They also defended their material interests and wealth.

FIGHT AGAINST APARTHEID

Mandela relates it well and balanced, though. Though the strict Protestant Boers of mainly Dutch descent were largely to blame for the National Party’s Apartheid policy since 1948 (though tacitly supported by White Britons), the White British were before this also racist and colonialist, - and exploitative - as elsewhere in Africa, but more indirectly and subtly. The way the Boers-led National Party operated with its Apartheid policy had indeed strongly Fascist elements, with “democracy” (e.g. voting) only reserved for a minority of “superior” White people. The majority Black population was since around 1950 openly made second-class citizens, stripped of most human rights, and made dependent on White people.. Indeed, in their own country. They were segregated into separate Bantustans, with in name self-rule.

Before 1950, discrimination of Africans was already there, including a “pass-system” restricting their free movement (not required for Whites), and an European bias in education and economy.

This harshly racist Apartheid is what Mandela fought against, with the African National Congress (ANC) organization – already founded in 1912 -, in which he became a leading figure. Predictably – as he narrates in this book -, repression, harassment, oppression, and persecution of him by the White authorities ensued (bans, censorship, limited movement, arrests, spells of incarceration), ending up in the (well-known) long incarceration at Robben Island (near Cape Town) of Mandela, as a political prisoner, lasting from 1964 up to the 1980s. Since the late 1980s, Mandela was transferred to another, more comfortable prison on the mainland, as political changes seemed somehow to be on the horizon. International condemnation has increased by the Late 1987. Very hesitantly, by the way: and the hesitance of powers like the US under Reagan and the UK under Thatcher to condemn Apartheid more strongly was morally dubious.

Indeed, the National Party government became by them more open for negotiations – especially as international sanctions were put in place (supported now by the US and the UK) -, which Mandela initiated on behalf of the ANC, toward his goal of multiracial democratization.

This is “in a nutshell” the context of these memoirs, but I recommend people to read it fully, for it is very insightful, precisely because of the details and how Mandela relates it. It gives insight about an oppressive political system in South Africa, as well as human psychology. It also shows Mandela’s intelligence and open mind.

HUMANITY

I noted through this book that Mandela indeed had an open mind, and was a good judge of character, placing humanity first. He commented on when white authoritative figures treated him rough and rude, but also when there were more reasonable or “kinder” people among them, only brainwashed too much in the system. He still kept hope due to the “glimmer of humanity” he even saw in guards in grim prisons he was in under Apartheid.

In the final, more reflective part of this book, Mandela says it eloquently: “Man’s goodness is a flame that can be hidden but never extinguished”..

In a way, that’s the ultimate rebellion. Despite harsh personalized aggression and oppression keeping your sane mind and composure, allowing even compassion. Maintaining good sense, reason, and your “cool”, even when instability (“losing your mind”) seems understandable. That stability and firmness of character of course also makes a good leader. Not one to be easily blown away or weakened. Neither easily corrupted or bribed.

Furthermore, Mandela maintained a love for all humanity, his account shows, which seemed sincere, and quite remarkable. Imprisoned since 1964 for decades until 1990, he states in this book that he through those years he learned to hate evil systems more than people.. even those working for/in it. Remarkable, as the cynical route of “I’ll be hard: after all, the world is against me..”, could be the choice of a lesser, less compassionate soul.

More things I learned I can mention – without spoiling or giving a way too much of this very readable book – is the lying propaganda of the National Party, and how it claimed to fight “Communists”. It mainly used this label to “frame” opponents to their (Apartheid) policy, mostly unjustly, as dangerous rebels or terrorists. This included Mandela and the ANC. This proved effective to gain support of the then anti-Communist USA.

Again the strength of character and wisdom of Mandela showed here. He did not consider himself a Communist, and above all certainly not opposed the National party on that ground: it was their racist Apartheid system he fought. Yet, Mandela explains how he studied aspects of Communism to examine its workability or possible usefulness, with an open mind. Never really embracing it, but neither excluding it in advance. He determined his own values.

ROBBEN ISLAND

Mandela’s account on prison life at Robben island since 1964 was fascinating and educational. In broad lines, summarizing what being there does to a man – not always detailed – but evident nonetheless.

Not everyone can imagine being for years locked up and at the mercy of guards, wardens and state, and throughout this unjust solitude, it seemed Mandela’s “hope” and firm stance kept his spirits up.. against all odds.

Prison for political prisoners under Apartheid South Africa – and on Robben island - was meant not just to “lock away”, but rather to make an intimidating political “fascist” point as well. Much of the behaviour of wardens, such as strict rules, limited favours, and structural discrimination and humiliation, can also be described as “extreme bullying”.

This could take “calculated” forms: easing of bans or prohibitions, extra favours granted (somewhat better food, study time, books, allowed to talk, a bit less work) were mostly conditional or temporary, and often wickedly compensated with new bothersome rules and limits.

The discriminatory Apartheid system translated by the way on the small scale as well: Black Africans got lesser food in prison, compared to Coloureds (mixed-raced), or Indians. Wisely, Mandela could see through all these evil games over the years, and somehow rise above it, keeping his focus on his ideals and principles, and a better future.

These ideals were essentially positive, inclusive and antiracist: it emphasized equal individual rights for all South Africans (of all races), and the One Man One Vote principle. A far cry from the segregated racial inequality the Apartheid policy upheld, aimed at Black Africans’ dependence on Whites.

The “Socialist-leaning” focus of the ANC was also multiracial, which conflicted a bit with other Black African resistance movements in South Africa at the time. In these memoirs, Mandela speaks for the ANC, while explaining how its “pro-Black, yet multiracial policy” would according to him be better than of the pro-ethnic African movements, such as the Pan-Africanist Congress (the PAC), that broke away from the ANC in 1959, having a more exclusionary Black Power stance.

This PAC objected to ANC’s tight connections to Communists and White and Indian people (even if against Apartheid), they considered too undermining of the Black liberation and authorhisp. Mandela considered such stances immature, while being not much less radical.

Radical, in that he never gave up violent resistance against the White apartheid regime. He thought this rebellion necessary for the time being, while preferring where possible peaceful means to overthrow it.

STRATEGY

These memoirs are thus – largely – about socio-political “strategy”: how Mandela endured the oppression and incarceration only to keep his values and goals of a free, democratic, nonracial South Africa intact. This I find quite admirable: he gave his life for his nation and people.

Being this “freedom fighter” – he resumes in the final part of the book – almost inevitably is at odds with a “common” stable private family life: a steady job, a present father, loyal husband, etcetera. He saw his children much less than he wanted when imprisoned, and though his love for Winnie Mandela was strong and guiding him, a practical “harmonious love life under one roof” hardly could develop with his life. He really gave his life for the struggle.

“It seems the destiny of freedom fighters to have unstable personal lives”, as Mandela summarizes it in this book.

FINAL PART

The final, more reflective part follows on Nelson Mandela’s final release from prison, and the victory since 1990, when Apartheid ended, and South Africa democratized since then, resulting in an electoral victory of the ANC. These include beautiful reflections full of wisdom, captured in some brilliant citations. Mandela e.g. writes (on the way forward after Apartheid): “to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others”..

The problem of violence among Africans (Zulu versus others) was a problem in South Africa regaining freedom, and Mandela relates how he assumed the National Party regime’s involvement, hoping to derail the changes through destabilization, and holding on to “White power” as long as possible. Again, through "divide and conquer".

South Africa – while becoming free and democratic - all in all thus had a lot of crime and violence problems - along with remaining poverty among the masses - in the Early 1990s, when this book ends.

I can add that I also learned through this book about other important individuals in the struggle against Apartheid, such as Oliver Tambo, longtime and respected leader of the African National Congress (when the ANC was banned after 1964, he was in exile in Lusaka). Mandela had a deep love and respect for this long-time friend and companion Tambo, resulting in deep grief at his quite sudden death, after a stroke, in 1993. This was not long after Mandela’s release. “It’s like I myself died a little bit”, he writes emotionally, also in this final part of the book. I felt that.

Though these memoirs are about politics, they are thus certainly not “cold”.

The only mild critique I can give is that “culture” does get much less attention than politics (strategy, freedom fighter) in this book. The differences between Zulu, Xhosa, and Sotho among the native Africans, or among the Whites (English or Afrikaans speaking) get less attention.

I guess freedom fighters like Mandela cannot escape the Black-White dichotomy the Apartheid regime after all was based on – however nonsensical it is - , and that makes it understandable.

Overall a must – or politer: “recommendable” - read, one can learn a lot from.

FINAL REFLECTIONS

Though Amsterdam has a progressive image, the birthplace of Apartheid’s architect Hendrik Verwoerd – of who some say he “raped” South Africa – still has street names named after Boers/Afrikaners, recalling the British-Boer wars, and other parts of South Africa where the White Boers ruled and had wars. This was due to the historical Dutch-Afrikaner connection.

The Transvaal is such a part of South Africa, and the neighbourhood with those street names is in Eastern Amsterdam therefore called “the Transvaalbuurt”, and before as “Afrikanerbuurt”. Maybe by today’s standards morally dubious and politically incorrect, but some streets have since been renamed after Black African freedom fighters: there is a Steve Bikoplein – plein is Dutch for “square” - there (which replaced the name Pretoriusplein), in that same part of Amsterdam, and an Albert Luthulistraat, however alongside several street names named after prominent Boers/Afrikaners, like Kruger. Besides this also more neutral South African geographical references, often related to Boer wars. No, like I said, not really politically correct in these times.

Amsterdam is hardly alone in this, of course, with streets named after colonial figures in several European countries, and slaveowners on dollar bills in the US, or seeing the large monument to Columbus in a city like Barcelona (and his birthplace Genua, Italy), and many other statues of colonial “conquerors” in Spain, Portugal, Britain, and elsewhere. Not politically correct, and meeting occasional objections, but often still remaining.

Interestingly – and symbolically -, there later came a Nelson Mandelaplein (square) in Amsterdam, but more to the South East: significantly a quarter with a majority of people of African descent (mainly Creoles from the former Dutch colony Suriname, and communities of Ghanaians and Nigerians).

I think, however, that these memoirs show that Nelson Mandela was a moral model for all people, of whatever race, believing genuinely in equality, of all races, but also between sexes. As an example: his breaking up with Winnie Mandela in the final part of the book, he worded in respectful terms toward her.

Above all: his wisdom and strategic, in essence positive and humanitarian, approach remains truly exemplary for all freedom fighters. This book showed that.

“Long walk to freedom: the autobiography of Nelson Mandela” (Abacus, 1994). – 768 p. – ill.

Mandela's other only friends : reggae songs on apartheid

When Ruud Gullit, the Dutch, mixed-raced football (soccer) player (then for big Italian club AC Milan) of part Surinamese descent, won the football price for European footballer of the year, the Ballon D’Or/Golden Ball, in 1987, he dedicated his award to the then still incarcerated freedom fighter against apartheid Nelson Mandela. This news reached Mandela in the prison and Mandela said this gave him hope and a sense of joy. Three years later, in 1990, Nelson Mandela was eventually freed from incarceration, meaning at the same time the beginning of the end of the racist apartheid system in South Africa. It was officially abolished by 1991, but was considered really overcome with the first democratic, multiracial elections in 1994. Mandela won in those elections, readers will probably know, and became the first black president of South Africa.

Years after Mandela was released, he and Ruud Gullit met one-to-one before appearing in a television programme. Gullit relates from that encounter that Mandela said to him: “when I got out of prison, and later became president, every one, the whole world, was or became my friend. But when I was in prison you were my friend”.. Gullit said he was deeply touched by this remark.

Indeed it has an impressive dramatic feel to it. A dramatic feel that is so powerful that it conveys a deeper truth that is both emotional and rational. The stuff of which the best of literary and other art works are made. “When I was in prison you - the emphasis on “you” is important - were my friend (or one of my few friends-that’s what the emphasis on you says)”, was a wise way to point out how people tend to opportunistically associate with the strong and the winners, while eschewing the suffering and the losers. That many people are simply not willing to show true solidarity with the weak and downtrodden.

This is the deeper truth behind it. And it is a truth, I think. Not just an opinion or interpretation. Looking at today’s world relations: people holding on to their own: the rich West neglecting the world’s majority which is poor, the problems in for example Africa maintained by - mostly man-made - unequal economic structures etcetera, etcetera.

That’s the broader, deeper truth behind what Mandela told Gullit. Gullit indeed rephrased it as “when I was in prison you (emphasized) were my friend”, sounding as if he was saying: you were my only friend, perhaps because he made it so personal. This seemed however appropriate, since he was talking to Gullit in a one-to-one at the time. Maybe Gullit reproduced it a bit different from what Mandela actually said, that is also possible.

If Mandela indeed said, or meant, “you were my only friend when I was imprisoned” then there is a complicating issue. The deeper truth of lacking solidarity with sufferers or suffering Africans, which I mentioned before, remains truer than true. I have no doubt about that. Literally taken, however, it is not entirely true. Gullit was in 1987 not Mandela’s “only friend”. I am not talking about his cell mates or his family and friends who visited him regularly then. No, I mean internationally: symbolic friends (like Gullit) showing solidarity publicly.

Many reggae artists, to be specific, expressed solidarity to the imprisoned Mandela in their lyrics, and some artists in other genres as well, especially black artists. An international football/soccer price is however more mainstream than most of these artists, of course. With regard to global exposure then, Gullit’s gesture in 1987 was still relatively influential. Especially reggae’s relation to the general “mainstream” has remained up to the present, let’s say, problematic. Perhaps, exactly because reggae has relatively much socially critical messages and lyrics.

In this post I would like to focus on the “other only friends” of Mandela when he was in prison for fighting apartheid: I will discuss the role of South Africa, apartheid, and more specifically Mandela in reggae songs’ lyrics over time. Before and after around, say, 1987.

Songs against apartheid appeared in other genres as well: by (South) African artists, as well as outside and in more mainstream pop music, such as Peter Gabriel’s ‘Steve Biko’, or Eddy Grant’s Afrobeat/calypso-like hit ‘Gimme Hope Jo’Anna’, to give a few examples (both from the 1980s). I choose in this post reggae because it is the genre I know most about, having been a fan for about 28 years now.

Another reason is that the genre by itself is strongly associated with a focus on Africa, due to the Rastafari connection. Socially critical, Black Power and topical lyrics are also relatively more common in reggae of course, as a whole, when compared to other, even Black or Caribbean genres. In soul and R&B, as well as in salsa or merengue, social commentary in lyrics is still not very common, even exceptional. Love and party lyrics predominate there. To a lesser degree this is also the case in hip-hop or calypso. In reggae social/political commentary is more common, not in all its subgenres equally, but it is in a broad sense the norm. Increasingly since the late 1960s.

AFRICA

The Rastafari movement originated in Jamaica, and is derived from the ideas and prophecies of Marcus Garvey, and continued by Leonard Howell from 1932 onward. The coronation of Haile Selassie as emperor of Ethiopia in 1930 was for both Garvey and Howell an important symbol and sign of redemption of Black, African and African-descended people. The Rastafari movement which Howell helped develop since 1932 in Jamaica – in conflict with colonial authorities – became as a consequence focussed on Haile Selassie’s Ethiopia, as a symbol of Africa, as continent of origin. Also, Africa as a whole got attention among Rastafari-adherents in Jamaica.

Not everyone had enough knowledge about all countries on the African continent. A retreat to the symbolic can be an expressed desire for redemption, for liberation. At the same time it can mean, in some cases, that more knowledge is lacking or deemed unnecessary. This can still be defendable if there is a deeper truth outweighing “factual” truths. The deeper truth that “Africa and Africans must be free” – the essential message of Rastafari – outweighs I think factual or practical knowledge about for instance Ghana, Cameroun, Angola, or Sierra Leone, although many Rastafari-adherents found information about these countries interesting in early stages of the Rastafari movement as well, of course. The distance some early Rasta leaders took from Vodou and Obeah-like African-derived religions – also present in Jamaica - , instead focussing on a Black rereading of Christianity and the Bible, points also at how the symbolic, however, got to outweigh the factual.

Even the factual truths are not always correctly represented. Simplistic historical representations as: “our African forebears came from (mostly from) Ghana” can be heard among both Jamaicans and Surinamers. This is due to some African retentions in both countries of clear Ashanti or Coromantee (Ghanaian ethnic groups) origin, and vague historical knowledge. The truth of the matter is that Ghana - under its colonial name Gold Coast - was indeed an important market for the English (and the Dutch) for their slave trade, but it was one of many. Scholarly studies show that probably about 35 to 40% of slaves in Jamaica (with similar figures for Suriname) came from the Ghanaian region. A large percentage, but not the majority. The majority came from other regions: the Angola/Congo region was where about 30% of slaves in Jamaica came from, according to informed estimations, and smaller percentages from other parts of West and Central Africa.

You might assume from this a contradiction between “official scholars” at universities and elsewhere on the one hand, and folk knowledge, as living on orally in African-Jamaican families, on the other. This is however partly a false contradiction. Many Jamaican families know from stories passed on (from grandmother to mother and before) more precise locations of the place of origin of their actual foreparents. So the correct knowledge has partly survived. The mother of reggae singer Chezidek said once that she heard from prior generations in her family that the roots of the family can be traced specifically to (what is now) Nigeria. Others can trace it quite correctly back to current-day Ghana (older reggae singer Winston Rodney - a.k.a. Burning Spear - for instance), while old-time (1950s and around) percussionist in Kingston, Watta King, influencing reggae and Nyabinghi percussion players, had a Congo background as family heritage. (I discussed Watta King in my blog post on bongos/percussion and reggae (http://michelconci.blogspot.nl/2012/09/distant-yet-near-hand-drums.html)).

A liberation movement like Rastafari requires however symbols. Ethiopia primarily. Other symbols presented themselves as European colonialism in Africa continued, and white minority racist rule developed in Angola, Rhodesia. And South Africa: that what is called apartheid.

APARTHEID

Apartheid became the official government policy in South Africa since 1948, and increased its institutionalized racism with intensity. Segregation, discrimination, and since 1970 Black South Africans definitely lost their citizenship rights within South Africa as a whole. From 1948 a racial classification system was implemented by the white government, African people were set apart and became effectively without rights, including forced resettlements to new homelands (‘Bantustans’) they were ascribed to by the white government. Extreme forms of segregation were behind all this, and also in places where both blacks and white lived. The “township” Soweto near Johannesburg is an example of a place where black South Africans in and around Johannesburg (i.e. working for white companies) were forced to live.

Forced to live in the generally less-developed, poorer, and inhospitable homelands/Bantustans, or in the townships, many black South Africans went to work for white-owned companies in South Africa – under strict conditions of course (passes etc.) – pointing at an added economic dependency.

Protests against apartheid were repressed harshly and violently, and Nelson Mandela – leader of the African National Congress (ANC) – was incarcerated in 1962, while Steve Biko was beaten to death while imprisoned in 1977. Both became martyrs for the anti-apartheid struggle.

This extreme form of a racist state policy, with its focus on segregation for white benefit, was combined with a series of measures part of what is called “petty apartheid”: laws that forbade amorous or sexual relations between white and black persons. Those who maintained such relationships were punishable by law. Someone I know - a white Dutch man who has lived in South Africa - told me that he and his black girlfriend eventually had to leave South Africa to live in Lesotho, a separate country surrounded by South Africa.

I am not going to describe the whole history of apartheid, because it can be found elsewhere, even on Internet. To get a good overview the Wikipedia-article (English) is insightful.

When learning about apartheid, the extremity of a state-institutionalized racist policy, by a white-minority government, to segregate and discriminate the black majority of a country on grounds of race seems harsh and absurd. It is on the other hand not so different from colonial practices in Africa since a century before, when a white minority ruled and decided over a black majority, killing and destroying on the way. The Belgian colonial regime in Belgian Congo, in seeking to enforce labour from natives in the mineral-rich Congo, caused about 8 million deaths among the Congo natives. Eight million! The white minority-government in Rhodesia, later Zimbabwe, likewise discriminated the majority harshly etcetera etcetera. Apartheid followed up on that colonial past in Africa. But, crucially, in a later stage (as said 1948 and after), when decolonization had become globally more accepted.

That South Africa especially became symbolic is therefore understandable. I think, however, that apartheid became more symbolic in a later stage, when decolonization continued more and more. The independence wars against Portugal in Angola and Mozambique in the 1970s, and the independence of Zimbabwe from Britain in 1981 also became symbols in some way. After these struggles: apartheid remained still in place in South Africa, downpressing the black majority in their own country. An undeterred remnant of colonial discrimination, so to say. Or last hurdle, if you will.

Apartheid, and specifically Nelson Mandela, thus got in a relative sense more attention in the 1980s internationally. This increased the pressure on the South African government.

REGGAE AND SOUTH AFRICA

Besides Ethiopia, other African countries have always received occasional attention in reggae lyrics, especially of course by Rastafari-inspired artists. This related to the topical and historical events. Bob Marley’s ‘Zimbabwe’ is a famous example, but other reggae artists have mentioned specific African countries other than Ethiopia as well. Angola (e.g. ‘We Should Be In Angola’ by Pablo Moses, or Mutabaruka’s ‘Angola Invasion’ – though linked to a South African invasion), Nigeria, Rhodesia/Zimbabwe (e.g. by Burning Spear), Zambia (by Misty In Roots), Kenya, Sierra Leone, Congo, Rwanda etcetera. And also South Africa. This occurred already in the 1970s.

All in all, however, this is less structural than the mention of Africa as a whole, or of Ethiopia. The latter is called on often symbolically, albeit aided by topical events (Mengistu, the violent Italian Fascist invasion). Well-chosen symbols can convey deeper truths, often out of reach to the merely topical or factual. Therefore - and that is in itself a good thing - reggae lyrics can be both symbolic as topical.

I note, however, that in the 1980s more reggae lyrics specifically mention African countries besides Ethiopia, but with one country being mentioned the most: South Africa. Often this consisted of critique on the apartheid system. Nelson Mandela, as symbol of the fight against apartheid, was also mentioned quite often. Calls to free Nelson Mandela have been uttered in reggae lyrics before Ruud Gullit dedicated his price to Nelson Mandela in 1987. No coincidence I think: Ruud Gullit was a reggae fan and I am almost sure he knew of these lyrics: they must have influenced him.

All in all many lyrics of many reggae songs - in Jamaica, as well as in Europe- and African-based reggae - began to deal with South Africa, criticizing apartheid, especially increasing in the 1980s. Literally dozens of songs by different veteran and newer artists. One of the earliest anti-apartheid songs on record was by Peter Tosh in 1977: the song ‘Apartheid’. It was a specific topic already then. The relatively unknown (Jamaican) group Well, Pleased & Satisfied, with a.o. member Jerry Baxter, had also a relatively early anti-apartheid song with ‘Fight Against South Africa’, in 1977. The Abyssinians’ strong ‘South African Enlistment’ (1978) was also relatively early in this regard.

It would increase in the 1980s, and even more in the latter half of the 1980s. After Mandela was freed in 1990 several songs on him and South Africa would appear commenting on/celebrating this release and later presidency (Culture’s ‘One Stone’), or warning Mandela for remaining Babylon dangers (Dennis Brown’s deep ‘Shepherds Be Careful’). Even many artists associated with dancehall of the less “conscious” and even “slackness” type, like Yellowman, Shabba Ranks, or Madoo, devoted songs to Mandela or South Africa.

I’ve tried to combine these reggae songs on apartheid in a Playlist on YouTube. See:

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLBiUHLE6GUMjOyZhGYmxMdloQ5rt0sfjQ

(If I forgot some that are on YouTube I am open for tips, of course.)

Interestingly: when I checked/researched the recording date of the songs in this playlist, it showed that a majority was released in the period between 1984 and 1989. It seemed by then to be more topical or – in a respectful sense - “in vogue”. Often it was the main theme of lyrics (not just “a” theme, such as in Bob Marley’s reproduction of Selassie’s speech in the song ‘War’, or other reggae songs on broader African struggles), showing in the titles with the name "Mandela" in them: there are several reggae songs with in their title both Mandela and “free”. Or, broader, with in the title, apartheid, Steve Biko, South Africa, or the mentioning/criticizing of white President Botha: who was president when apartheid received most attention (in the 1980s).

Nelson Mandela became a vehicle through which in reggae lyrics apartheid was criticized/discussed, but far from always. Many lyrics discuss apartheid in South Africa broader, without mentioning even personal names (or just one time in a verse Mandela, Biko, or Botha). At times also Steve Biko, but Mandela more often.

In the remainder of this post I will just discuss the broad lines among these reggae songs with lyrics on apartheid, and Mandela. The songs themselves can be found in the said YouTube playlist. I can say that I find some songs relatively better from a strictly musical perspective, and sometimes I find the lyrics more inventive (“deeper”) than those of others, but that is often so. In some cases – in my opinion at least - relatively deep lyrics combine with good musical qualities, such as on the strong song ‘Mr Botha’ by the Mighty Diamonds, the soulful ‘South African Enlistment’ by the Abyssinians, the Mighty Diamonds impressive song called ‘Apartheid’, Burning Spear’s engaging ‘Free Nelson Mandela’, or Junior Delgado’s raw but catchy ‘Hanging Tree’. While not quite of this classical roots calibre, in my opinion, I still must admit that the Dutch reggae band Revelation Time’s song ‘South African Downpressor Man’ (with Ruud Gullit singing along) does not stay too far behind, and is I think actually an up-to-par “real” reggae song, with good vocals and a nice Rockers Roots riddim, almost reaching Jamaican standards.

Further, there are several other good and catchy songs in that playlist I did not really know before. Such as the strong tunes by Frankie Jones, Barrington Levy, Leroy Sibbles, and Tetrack in the playlist. There are the good singing and lyrics of Carlene Davis, nuff crucial chunes, and groovy riddims often too..But of course all this is subjective and my personal taste that may or may not be similar to that of the readers.

The broad lyrical themes regarding South Africa can however be more objectively analysed.

CONCLUSION ON LYRICS

The situation in South Africa had become more known internationally, and the racist segregation, downpression and discrimination by a white minority of a black majority is mentioned in many lyrics, all of course correct and in line with actual history. Mandela is an important but not dominant symbol throughout these lyrics. More often the apartheid system in South Africa is the main theme, of which as a subtheme Mandela is derived in the lyrics. This makes sense: the broad, unjust system led to Mandela’s incarceration, as an anti-apartheid fighter. President Peter Botha was mentioned a lot of course as a personal representation of the apartheid regime. Botha even seemed discussed as a personification of apartheid in a few lyrics, although apartheid was there before him, of course, and Botha implemented some (albeit mostly marginal) democratizing reforms. His successor President de Klerk became known as reformer, since under him Mandela was freed, and apartheid eventually abolished. (According to some, however, De Klerk was also hypocritical. Mandela himself said that De Klerk deliberately destabilized the situation in black areas in South Africa to undermine the changes in progress.)

Mandela is thus mentioned often as derived from the theme of apartheid. The other way around: departing from discussing Mandela in prison - and through this broader apartheid - does occur regularly but a bit less often. Such specific lyrics on Mandela when incarcerated, showing solidarity with him were still there within reggae, especially in the mid- and later 1980s. I found about a dozen songs more specifically on Mandela and his incarceration for 27 years. Some of these were released years before Ruud Gullit dedicated his football/soccer price to Mandela in 1987. Like I said, I think Gullit – as then self-declared reggae fan and also occasional reggae singer – must have been inspired by this.

Mandela was broadly speaking right: when Mandela got out of prison in 1990 and became president of South Africa in 1994, practically everyone in the world (in a manner of speaking) was on his side and his “friend”. This was much less the case when he was actually imprisoned. British and US governments of the time even deemed him some kind of terrorist, refusing thus to support him or show solidarity with Mandela up to well in the 1980s, Yet, by contrast, “Gullit was his friend” when he was imprisoned, Mandela said to Gullit in a one-to-one, which understandably touched Gullit deeply. It is beautifully put: both in a symbolic sense, as in a literal, practical sense.

He was his (symbolic) “friend” then, that is true, and an influential one: football/soccer being an internationally popular sport and Gullit was then more or less world famous as AC Milan player, also among the “mainstream”. On the other hand, the solidarity expressed in several reggae songs and lyrics around the mid-1980s shows that he was at the time not Mandela's only friend...

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLBiUHLE6GUMjOyZhGYmxMdloQ5rt0sfjQ