Basic HTML Version
•
PASTOR GENERAL'S REPORT, APRIL 19, 1985
PAGE 13
SATURDAY: Meeting with State President Botha, whose office, like
the man himself, is large and imposing. Having been warned that
he does not suffer fools gladly and that he gets very cross if
asked questions which demonstrate ignorance of South Africa, I
feel more than usually uncertain how to make the most of the 30
minutes or so allotted for the -interview••••
He hoped that the Western world had ·drawn the right lesson from
Senator Kennedy's visit to South Africa: that the country's black
politics were much more complicated than anything dreamt of in
Bishop Tutu's philosophy. As for Western pressure to destabilise
South Africa, he thought this was pla y ing with fire, .since.�
sparks of a race war in South A""fr'Ica might
weir
set alight simi
� confla9rat'IonS1n-other parts of the wor'Id.,-r:lotably in the
United States where the racial material was still much more ex
plosively inflanunable than American liberals liked to recognise.
His advice to the West seemed to be: "Leave ill alone." Dare I
admit that I found Botha's earthy realism rather engaging?•••
SATURDAY: Fly back to Johannesburg so as to be able to take up [a]
challenge to see what black life is like for myself•••in Soweto,
the largest black township in the country with a population
thought to be nearly two million•••• We drive to a neon-lit dance
hall owned by another friend, Lucky Mick. It is now about 2 a.m.
and everybody is in the best of spirits•••• Lucky Mick escorts us
to the bar, which is a tiny lighted coastal strip, so to speak,
beyond which, in the dark, lies a great raging and roaring sea of
some 1,000 ululating couples.
So long as one remains within this relatively civilised coastal
strip, under Lucky Mick's protection, all is fairly orderly. But
being an intrepid reporter, I decide, drink in hand, to explore.
What a mistake, since irresistible currents instantly sweep me
far away from the safety of the shore. A great black hand grips
my arm in a vice and another calmly removes the drink without a
word being exchanged. No hostility is shown: [but] •••never be
fore in my life have I felt so frightened; or more relieved than
when Lucky Mick eventually comes to the rescue••••
In many ways the experience induces intense sympathy for the
plight of the South African blacks. But it also induces, in my
heart at least, an equally intense sympathy for the dimensions of
the dilemma faced by South African whites. Perhaps every visitor
to South Africa should end his stay in a Soweto dance hall, where
the heart of darkness is still reality enough to snuff out all
but the hardiest of enlightened illusions.
Such elements of reality, of course, are totally lost on the Berkeley stu
dents who are excited about finally having found another cause to get ex
cited about. And they probably paid no attention to the fact that President
Botha, on April 7, was invited to address a crowd of two million black pe 9 -
ple. His message, an appeal for peace and harmony, was well received by his
audience and interrupted often by applause. The crowd was well-dressed and
well-behaved. An account of this rather remarkable event moved across our
AP wire on April 7: