I try to discuss the "Racism" of South Africans

An appointment in Kwazulu-Natal forced us inland, away from the ocean that I am tired of leaving. We skipped Durban and drove two hours into the mountains to reach Greytown, a municipality with perhaps 25,000 residents. I was unenthusiastic about visiting a rather isolated, white farming community; but, Sean and Mike assured me they had met a good man who was lining up an interesting article.

We discovered that our Thursday afternoon arrival corresponded to the beginning of a four day weekend, which made me feel like sketching waves with gloomy fingertips. Upon arrival in Greytown, we pulled into an electrically fenced compound with the usual assortment of well bred, racist attack dogs, where our hosts were enjoying barbequed ribs and beer with their wives, preparing for the beginning of a significant rugby match that all men were expected to watch at the local pub. We went through our usual stories and explanations, defended the honor of our sorry looking car and gathered that all of the men in the room had lengthy and successful military careers ranging from paratrooping and high intensity conflict throughout Southern Africa to counter-insurgency, interrogations and police work. In the eyes of many black Africans in the region and many leftward leaning people, these men had been the bad guys during apartheid and during South Africa's dubious efforts to "stabilize" their neighboring countries. Many South African men of their color and age group have histories like these.

Common ground means everything. In my limited experience, South Africans frequently go out of their way to ensure that you, as a visitor, adopt their own interpretations of color and national events. As a result of this tendency, I have been subjected by white people to the narration of dozens of brutal farm murders, child rapes, senseless assaults and instances of gross corruption, dishonesty or pathetic laziness. These stories resemble the occasional news items that make their way into American newspapers to horrify readers with savage Africa-the sort of stories that are the essence of the enemy of this whole trip. However, most of our South African narrators hasten to apologize, contextualize and disclaim; the ones that I bother listening to are not trying to reinforce the sort of fearful, ignorant racism that occurs in areas where contact with other races is minimal and insignificant. They are trying to explain a bitterness or a suspicion, an outburst or a deaf ear. Many of them preface or conclude their stories by saying, "Don’t get us wrong. You have to understand. Yes, maybe we are racist; but, it's not the same here. You have to understand how things were and what these people have been doing." Their narratives are designed to shed light on the specific variety of "racism" to which South Africa’s white people can openly admit.

The racist joke becomes an art and the ability to distinguish between habitual slurs and malicious accusations becomes a necessity. I find it appropriate to tolerate this sort of discourse partially because I am a visitor and a guest but, primarily, because the people from whom it originates (the ones with whom we associate), tend to have a strong desire to better their country, a strong sense of civic responsibility and the habit of letting their actions speak louder than their words. Together, especially over drinks or in front of outsiders, white South Africans can start to bluster, struggling to present the most outrageous and instructive true stories about shooting or being shot at by black people. These same talkers are, at times, deeply involved in assisting the impoverished black people of their region in person or on committes. They may be developing the infrastructure, handing out food and blankets or consulting for the municipality. A number of them campaigned vigorously against apartheid and, perhaps most importantly, many of their children have friends of different colors. A number of South Africans who acknowledge the present levels of racism, predict that future generations will be much more willing to put skin tones behind them-and they sound pleased to say so.

On another odd note: at least in the southern and coastal regions of South Africa, the whites who seem particularly reactionary or red necked in their opinions and taste of clothing and vehicles, are more laid back than any other bigots or semi-bigots that I have ever met. The best of them can downshift effortlessly from rugby racism and a truck full of beers towards relaxed eclectic music and late evenings of all embracing conversation. It is a complete paradigm shift that I find disconcerting and, oddly, pleasant.

By the end of our week with Les and Robyn in Greytown, I was glad we had skipped Durban and come to their unexceptional farm town.
* posted by Nathaniel at 7:54 AM