The Sunday News
Cetshwayo Zindabazezwe Mabhena
THE thirteen men that were arrested by security agents of the apartheid regime at Liliesleaf Farm on 11 July 1963 in South Africa were ordinary mortals. They became known as Rivonia trialists because the farm in which they were found holed up was located in the Johannesburg suburb of Rivonia. The name that was given to them by the apartheid state was that of terrorists and enemies of the state.
To the apartheid state they were good for nothing saboteurs that belonged to their graves or the jail cell. They did not have heroism or greatness in their blood. Heroism and greatness were given to them by those that believed in the cause for which they were fighting. When they were handed the death sentence that was later commuted to a life sentence at the Palace of Justice in Pretoria they instantly became kinds of martyrs and messiahs that carried the cross for multitudes of oppressed black people in South Africa.
There is no sign that the thirteen men planned to be great heroes. Heroism is like that. It is not usually contrived or deliberately planned but it arrives as an accident that befalls otherwise unsuspecting and sometimes unwilling individuals. In that way, heroism does not reside in the body or the name of the hero but in the imagination and minds of the followers and believers. Heroes are artefacts of public faith. I write this short article after the passing away, on 21 July 2020 in Johannesburg, South Africa of Andrew Mokete Mlangeni who was the last surviving Rivonia Trialist.
The ordinary man
As a little boy Mlangeni fell out of the school system because of poverty and racial discrimination. His impoverished parents could not afford the school fees and his black skin consigned him to the lot that could not receive government support for education. He became what in South Africa is called being “disadvantaged.” That made him angry. As a factory worker he suffered and also actively opposed discrimination and exploitation.
As a bus driver, a prestigious occupation for a black school drop-out, Mlangeni met with many people and listened to their painful stories. Inevitably he became an anti-apartheid campaigner, an activist and organiser that opposed apartheid. His anger with discrimination and impoverishment led him, in 1951, to join the African National Congress (ANC). The ANC sent him to exile for military training in 1961. He returned to South Africa in 1963, the same year in which he was eventually arrested.
After a long trial for sabotage and mischief-making, Mlangeni and others were jailed at Robben Island. Prisoner Number 467/64 became his identity. He served an effective 26 years behind bars which was a heavy personal sacrifice. The narrative of the life and times of Andrew Mlangeni proves that he was an ordinary but honest man that got truly angry with injustice and decided to do something about it. The regime that was responsible for the injustice called him a criminal and a trouble causer, an enemy of the state and an undesirable public element.
If Mlangeni and his comrades took seriously the labels and insults of the apartheid regime they would not have done anything to challenge apartheid. The apartheid regime deployed unjust laws and an immoral justice system that incriminated and punished those that were truly fighting for justice. The law and the truth of the apartheid regime were the injustice and the lie of the oppressed black people of South Africa. My observation and statement here is that most times it is the simplicity, ordinariness, honesty and courage of ordinary people that stands up to confront powerful and unjust regimes such as the apartheid establishment in South Africa.
When simple and ordinary people like Mlangeni stood up against apartheid there was no immediate reward or benefits for the trouble. Infact there was the trouble of being called names, arrested, jailed and even killed. True heroism, possibly, hides in the simplicity, honesty and courage of common people that have had enough of injustice. Truth, courage and simplicity are most likely the authentic hallmarks of true heroism. Trouble starts when heroism gets entangled in power and glory and the greatness of individuals ahead of the interest of communities and societies.
Mlangeni and others became exemplary men of their time. They became those good people that could not sit and watch while injustice and evil triumphed. Heroism in its truth is simple and common but very courageous. It is also sober and unexcited about personal glory and grandeur; it is not about persons or their organisations, but about social justice and truth. Heroes are those humble fellows that work for goals and causes above their personal needs and desires. The central qualities of a true hero are therefore selflessness and humility.
Heroism: The Thing
In his autobiography, former South African President Kgalema Mothlanthe described the life of Andrew Mlangeni as “lesson-laden and politically charged.” Heroes must be like that; role-models and living examples of courage and humility. Their lives should be living books for those that wish to learn and adopt values and virtues of honesty, courage and humility. It’s only when we move from a humble individual hero like Mlangeni and proceed to heroism as an ideology that we get into real problems. As an ideology, an ism, heroism is toxic and turns simple men and women into monsters.
Like other ideologies heroism has drives and passions that are appetites for power and glory. The heroes as creatures of ideology and not servants of justice and truth become true tyrants that demand respect and honour from the people. They become impatient and angry gods that demand sacrifices and suffering from their followers. Their names become slogans and soundbites that people swear by. An ideologised and ideological hero is power-hungry persona with a scary god-complex. She or he perpetually expects people to sing praises and express their gratitude.
That kind of hero that is drunk with passion and ideology of greatness is monstrous thing in the presence of which people are not safe. Heroism that has no humility and courage to itself is sordid poison that societies are better off without. As Mlangeni’s earthly sun sets, what remains behind him is a solid example of simplicity, ordinariness, courage, humility and personal sacrifice.
Cetshwayo Zindabazezwe Mabhena writes from Gezina in Pretoria: [email protected]
