ANDREW HALL, ICOMOS SOUTH AFRICA

TH
8 US/ICOMOS INTERNATIONAL SYMPOSIUM

From Nationalism to National Identity

The Anglo-Boer South African War

Reinterpreting Old Heritage for the New South Africa

This paper is perhaps a little of a self-indulgence, in many ways a recollection of

a personal journey of understanding that may hold value for others working in our
sector. A journey through events that meant much in my family, which like many
South African families, misunderstood, misinterpreted or obscured facts in order
to provide a shield from a truth we disregarded through ignoring what we knew
was there or because we had insufficient knowledge to face it. The events in
question were, in the recent past given great significance, but are perhaps no
longer considered as important, or of major symbolic import. However, for the
purposes of this paper how perceptions have changed in the past eleven years
has served a significant professional purpose to those of us tasked with re-
interpreting South Africa’s history and using its heritage to bond its diverse
people.

As is well known, in the post-second world war era South Africa has been
amongst the countries that have experienced the worst distortions of their past
for purposes of propaganda and ideology. The advent of democracy has hence
brought many challenges for those looking at re-interpretation of heritage which
was protected prior to 1994, not least of all undoing negative perceptions of or
indifference to events that were subject to particularly strenuous propaganda
efforts under apartheid. Most South Africans went through a school system that
dished up a particular view of the two historic justifications of Apartheid ideology,
one of which is the so-called ‘Great Trek’, or migration of Afrikaans speaking
settlers into the interior of the sub-continent, and the other the Anglo-Boer South
African War of 1899-1902, an aspect of the latter of which this paper is the
subject.

At this point I must own up to my identity as an English speaking South African,

descendent of mid-19th Century British settlers and Central European immigrants
who came to South Africa as refugees many years after the events that are the
subject of this paper. Inevitably what I say will be clouded by this identity. Hence
in part the need to put this over as a personal journey. The Great Grandfather
whose last name I carry died in this great war between the British Empire and the
Afrikaner descendants of earlier Dutch, French and German settlers. It was a
war that drove a deep wedge between the two colonising communities of our
country, creating historic divisions (probably similar to those wrought by the
American Civil War) that have only really healed due to their irrelevance in the
post-Apartheid era.

Amongst Afrikaners the War was known as the Vryheids-Oorlog (Liberation War),
whilst English speakers called it the Anglo-Boer War or simply the Boer War,
named for the Afrikaners against whom they fought. In Britain and other corners
of former empire this last major conflict of the 19th century is most often known as
the South African War. As a child raised in an English speaking family, I was
subjected to very mixed interpretations of this war and only really came to
understand its true significance much later in life. Misunderstanding of it was
something common to most South Africans who left school before the advent of
the post-1994 school history syllabus. One’s perspective depended largely upon
cultural background.

Its meaning was grossly distorted in the interests of Afrikaner nationalism with
further confusion being added by the angst of English speakers seeking to justify
or find meaning in a contradictory existence between privilege and wealth
protected by the ideology that it largely professed to abhor and the need to
excuse itself from responsibility for.

In the bad old days all South African children were, regardless of background,
and usually in several phases of the school history curriculum, subjected to the
Afrikaner nationalist interpretation of the war which was briefly along the following
lines:

- A small population of heroic Afrikaners, who in the 1830’s had fled the
rigours and atrocities of British rule in the colonies (the Great Trek) and
set up two free and democratic republics in the north were provoked into a
war with the British who wished to control the mineral wealth associated
with the goldfields in and around Johannesburg.

- Despite initial military success the lightly armed Boers were ultimately
beaten in the field by a far larger British force brought in from all corners of
the hated empire. In order to defend their homeland against its occupiers
they hence resorted to unconventional, guerrilla tactics.

- Unable to suppress this insurgency the British resorted the destruction of

the landscape on which the Boers depended for their survival. A scorched
earth policy saw the destruction of farms and removal of the Boer civilian
population (non-combatant elderly and women and children) to extremely
unsanitary concentration camps where, if the British did not add ground
glass or poison to the food, interns died of disease or starvation.

As with most successful propaganda, there is between the gross exaggeration

and equivocation much that is true. The British did disgrace themselves through
the use of a scorched earth policy and the disorganisation of the concentration

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camps to which the rural population of large tracts of the country were removed.
Many did die due to lack of adequate shelter, hygiene, rations and medical care.
Where the tale takes a dangerous diversion is firstly in conveying the message
that the British actions were anything more than a military strategy gone horribly
wrong and that those affected were only white and Afrikaans speaking.

These two fundamental aspects of the tale told in schools and enshrined in
monuments and memorials around the country served to create the impression
amongst the faithful that Afrikaners were alone in their suffering; had been
subjected to genocide; that their nationalism was their phoenix; and that the
Apartheid ideology that went with it was there for no other reason than to ensure
that other South Africans could not repeat the atrocities.

These other South Africans were dished up the same story in order that they
might understand why things had to be the way they were. From the perspective
of English speakers the attitude towards the propaganda was generally one of
regret that the Empire that had won the war had contrived to lose the peace.
That if this had not happened the English community would have been in control
and everyone would have been better off. Whilst grave mistakes had been made
in the war, the need to continuously repeat them was not much appreciated.

Amongst the vast majority, the Black South Africans, whilst the War as
justification for apartheid was not accepted, by and large the mythology was not
questioned. It was understood that the English and Afrikaners had fought a long
and bitter struggle, but it was the ‘white mans war’ and hence of very little
concern to those who, as the propaganda had it, had not participated in or been
affected by it.

Coming to the heritage aspects of the matter, in order to maintain the myth,
memorials and places of homage were created on countless battlefields and
cemeteries and on the sites of many, though not all former concentration camps,
some of which where for good reason forgotten and allowed to be reclaimed by
Mother Nature. On important days the faithful gathered at places of
commemoration to pay their respects to ancestors who had suffered; to have
recounted to them the tales of the horror and the justifications for the ideology
they followed and to renew their vow that it should not happen again. These
gatherings were broadcast around the nation for other communities to see,
appreciate and understand.

However, as with all nationalism the energy eventually waned the faithful slowly
deserted. Events became less fanatical as the dogma lost some of its rigidity.
Attendance at commemorative days declined and many places of homage fell
into disrepair as energy and resources were directed elsewhere, partly into the
struggle to beat off the threat of national liberation that Apartheid had been
designed to prevent. After liberation in 1994 commemoration of events of 100

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years previously practically ceased, in part because the great days were no
longer holidays, but principally because the faithful simply no longer believed.

It was in this climate that planning for the centenary of the War commenced with
very mixed feelings as to the significance of the events to be commemorated and
how, if at all it should be undertaken. Most post-Apartheid heritage
conservationists and government decision makers held the view inculcated by
the former propagandists that the war was irrelevant to the majority of the people
as it had not involved them. However, under pressure from military history buffs
around the world; a little out of fear that reactionary elements might take the
initiative if government did not and finally, as a result of revisionist research in
academic institutions and museums, due to the revelation of forgotten or
deliberately obscured facts and places associated with the War, it was decided
that something should be done.

Revision of the history of the war revealed what is obvious: A war involving
hundreds of thousands of soldiers and covering around 50% of the countryside
could not effect only two of the communities that inhabited those lands. It had
affected black communities in many and profound ways that cannot all be
recounted here. As far as the scorched earth policy went it took very little effort
to ascertain that this applied as much to this aspect any other of the conflict.
White farm owning families who had supported Boer guerrilla bands/commandos
by feeding them from farm produce had been supported by the black labourers
who tilled the soil and cared for the livestock. When the farmsteads were burned
and crops and livestock destroyed the entire populations of scorched sectors
were removed to concentration camps. Black labourers made this journey with
their landowning employers and whilst most often settled in camps that were
separate from whites, they frequently found themselves housed alongside of, or
together with their Afrikaner countrymen. They too died from the same causes
and in comparable number often suffering greater depravation due to the lesser
regard in which they were held by colonial authorities, receiving even fewer
rations, inferior shelter and less medical attention.

In the lead up to the centenary a co-ordinated effort was made to identify the
camps occupied by black South Africans and the names of those who died in
them and the locations of their graves. This, as part of the illumination of the role
of and impacts of the war upon all South Africans, formed a major thrust of the
centenary. In the three years of the commemoration a new perspective was
conveyed to South Africans who now generally have a different understanding of
events and the way all are affected by them. New memorials have been erected
alongside the old and, where detailed records exist, new names added to those
of the victims already listed.

The primary purpose of this paper is to illustrate what is perhaps a peculiarly

South African irony, that is how the propaganda of the past and its meaning has

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through attempts to achieve a more objective view of the past changed
perceptions to the extent that suffering in the past and the understanding thereof
that was created through the old propaganda machinery has become a vehicle
for national reconciliation. This was brought home to me through the celebration
the provincial government I work for, in co-operation with Freedom Park, a new
national institution created to foster national identity, organised for our national
Reconciliation Day, 16 December 2004.

National reconciliation and celebration of freedom for all South Africans has been
an important aspect of government policy since 1994. It was a relatively easy
thing in the early years. There was relief at our narrow escaped from the fate of
many other nations that have travelled the ever deepening spiral of ethnic
conflict. There was self-congratulation that we had done it together and on our
own, and many other reasons for a general spirit of goodwill. However, eleven
years on the honeymoon is past. South Africa is no longer just an extraordinary
country. The harsh realities of recovery from 300 years of colonialism and five
decades of apartheid are there to be dealt with. Without creating much tension,
people have gone their own way and, as they are entitled to under constitutional
government, do as they please in terms of who they choose to associate or
identify with and why.

The new national days, carefully chosen and named so as not to create reason
for offence, whilst still drawing large numbers of black participants have failed in
their mission to foster mutual understanding and the growth of a single national
identity. Few from the white and other minority communities, that make up about
or 15% of the population, attend. This despite diverse programmes that should
cater to all cultures; the holding of festivities in neighbourhoods where minorities
live and many other strategies to attract all South Africans to nation building
events. Perhaps those of us working for the new bureaucracy are naïve in our
belief that mass festivals are appropriate building blocks for a culturally diverse
nation and in recent years fewer black participants have shown an interest in
attending the types of event that remain attractive to our political heads.

However, last year’s Reconciliation Day was different. The budget was tight and
the usual stadium event with speeches and a free concert was out of reach. It
was hence decided that the provincial celebration would consist of a
commemoration at the cemetery of the Orange River Station Concentration
Camp, a site where black and white interns lived, suffered, died and were buried
side by side. Being far from a large city most of the several hundred participants
were from surrounding villages and for many it provided a first opportunity to
formally commemorate an event that had effected their ancestors, whilst for
others it was probably the first time they had done so in congregation with
countrymen from across the racial divide. For the latter, probably also the first
time that they had visited the site since the forgotten and heady days of Afrikaner
nationalism.

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People from all communities attended in appropriate number. I was struck by the
peculiar irony of seeing black and white South Africans commemorating a horror
that they all understood simply because it had been paraded before them as part
of the propaganda of the former times. What the re-interpretation work of the
previous ten years had achieved was simply to broaden the understanding and
scope of the tragedy, making it a shared one.

In the formal part of the proceedings events were recounted by the wife of the
farmer on whose land the site is located. Commitments to reconciliation and
avoidance of similar events in the future were read out by leaders of the
communities present and so on and so forth. The event was not without some
interesting tensions. At one point local clergy and their congregants offered
prayers at gravesides. They were followed by a colourful group of traditional
healers from various African cultures who, in their animist traditions, conducted a
cleansing ceremony, burning herbs on the graves and offering incantations to the
ancestors who reside there. A few staunch Calvinists objected that since the
graves were not marked these sangomas were performing their rituals over the
remains of Christians who had not shared their beliefs. However, the objections
were quickly forgotten when the plaintiffs were reminded that they had on several
occasions over the past hundred years undoubtedly offered their prayers over
the graves of the ancestors of those who still did not share their faith.

It was a simple event that showed me how the re-interpretation of the past and
use of a heritage site can do more than an over-organised festival to create a
shared experience that contributes to mutual understanding of rituals and cultural
practices that, whilst not shared by all our countrymen, contributes to the wealth
of the nation. As an English speaker, from a community that forms only two
percent of the province, I for the first time and in an unthreatening way profoundly
felt and appreciated the terrible role of my own people in this war. It was
something that, had things been different, I should have felt many years before. I
also appreciated the irony that those events were, 102 years after they ceased,
bringing together antagonists from a far later conflict.

In conclusion, through this event and the work that has gone before it I have
come to realise that a lot of our interpretative work is about symbolism and
sentiment. What symbols do we choose to use and which sentiments we
stimulate determine whether we divide or bring together. In this case old, much
abused symbols are playing a new role in fostering understanding by all South
Africans of their contribution to the creation of our nationhood. As I said earlier,
perhaps a peculiarly South African irony. I hope it is also relevant in a broader
context.

ANDREW HALL

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ICOMOS South Africa
05.05.05