Keynote address on behalf of the National
Executive Committee of the ANC
By Pallo Jordan

Comrades and friends,

We are pleased to be here in Amsterdam today, a city that has such close historic links with our country. These links in the past were occasioned by the Dutch settlement set up by van Riebeeck some 300 years ago — they were links of oppression. Increasingly today we have begun to forge new links not only with the city of Amsterdam, but also with the people of the Netherlands as a whole — links based on our common commitment to the struggle for liberation, social justice and democracy. The hosting of this CASA Conference and Festival by the city of Amsterdam is a concrete expression of these new links; as is the Or Govan Mbeki Fellowship whose seat is the University of Amsterdam. We greet the anti-apartheid city of Amsterdam and wish to place on record our profound appreciation of the hospitality it has shown us.

I speak today on the subject of culture, not in order to lay down and ANC line on culture'. My remarks today should rather be read as part of continuing dialogue amongst cultural activists, committed to the national democratic struggle in our country, to define jointly more clearly the role we would like culture and cultural workers to play in that struggle. If a 'line' has to be pronounced, it is our hope that such a 'line' will emerge from our collective endeavours here and not as an ex-cathedra pronouncement from the ANC leadership.

The topic I am presenting here today has been the subject of many conferences in the past, and will probably continue to exercise the minds of others after today. I therefore make no apology for having to repeat what others have said before me. I will beg your indulgence. Comrades, while I recount two tales which I think are most Instructive with respect to the topic we are examining. The first of these tales is drawn from our indigenous literacy traditions; the second derives from ancient Greek tradition.

The African tale is called Sikhamba-nge-Nyanga (She-Who- Walks-by-Moonlight). According to this tale, there lived in a village a very beautiful maiden, whose extraordinary that when ring the day, the herd boys would not drive the cattle to pasture; the men and women would be so beauty they would not go the fields to hoe. She was therefore forbidden to come out during the day and was permitted to go abroad at night, by moonlight’, when the day's tasks had been completed.

The Greek tale is derived from Homer's Odyssey. Odyssey, one of the Greek kings returning from the sack of Troy, had to the sail his ship past the islands inhabited by the Sirens. It was said that the Sirens, mysterious women, sang such a disarmingly beautiful song, so distracting the sailors from their responsibilities aboard ship that their ships drifted into the treacherous reefs surrounding the islands. Odyssey had fortunately been warned of these dangers. In order to pre-empt them he ordered his men to stop up theirs ears with wax. He, however, wished Siren’s song. He therefore instructed his men to tie him fast to the mast. The upshot was that the sailors rowed steadily past the islands of the Sirens. Odysseus, tied to the mast, heard the song, was overcome and called to his men to untie him. But of course they could not hear him. When the danger had passed, they released him.

Both these tales derive from societies that no longer exist. The first was composed in the pre-colonial African societies of South Africa. The second comes from the ancient Greek societies, but both tell us something about how culture and cultural activity were regarded by both. Both see culture and cultural activity as an important human activity, which despite its importance was an activity which needed to take second place in the affairs of humanity. First place was accorded to the essential tasks relating to securing the means of livelihood. Cultural activity had thus to be deferred until these tasks had been completed. Hence, the extraordinary beauty of Sikhamba-nge-Nyanga could only be contemplated at night.

The Greek tale, however, has a second dimension of which we must not lose sight. Unlike pre-colonial African societies in South Africa, ancient Greek society was dominated by a class of slave masters, from amongst whom were drawn their kings, nobles and statesmen. Being owners of slaves, these men, like Odysseus, were exempt from labour because others worked for them. On his ships Odysseus, as king, was exempt from rowing. He was, therefore, in a position to listen to the song of the Sirens. But this was a privilege he could enjoy only if first rendered powerless to interfere with the priority task of rowing the ship to safety. And so he was tied to the mast. Odysseus could then enjoy the music of the Sirens, but at the expense of his men whose stopped up ears enabled them to row the ship, Odysseus aboard, to safety.

The significance of the social relations between Odysseus and his sailors will become more evident later in the course of my contribution. Suffice it to say for the present that in societies divided into superordinate and subordinate classes, access to culture and the product of cultural activity are inequitably distributed. The ANC and its allies classify South Africa as Colonialism of a Special Type in that the colonial power and the colonized people occupy the same territory. As a result of this historical fact, two perspectives have grown up in South Africa regarding the solution of the national question. The one, associated with the apartheid regime, and to one degree or another, the various white political parties, regards the diversity of South African society as a source of conflict, which conflict can only be resolved by the white minority exercising domination over the majority black population.

Pursuance of this perspective has required successive white regimes to corrupt, distort and suppress the cultural heritage of the oppressed for purposes of domination. Simultaneously they have been compelled to denude the cultural traditions deriving from Europe of what is best in them and reduce them to parochial horizons as the exclusive property of persons of European descent. I do not feel it is necessary to expand on the effects of these practices to this audience.

The opposing perspective, which is historically associated with the national liberation movement, accepts that history has brought together on the territory of South Africa people who trace their roots to three different continents — Africa, Asia and Europe. The national liberation movement has consistently held to the view that it is not only impossible, but also undesirable, to try to unscramble this historical omelette. We say that the very fact of sharing a common territory has set in train an irreversible historical process — whose consequences are Black and White engaged in a common economy and therefore creating a common society. This is the true meaning of the preamble to the Freedom Charter . . . that South Africa belongs to all who live in it.

We argue that, though our people came from differing ethnic and racial backgrounds, having been thrown together on South African soil, they are Collecting engaged in creating something qualitatively new. This emergent quality, we say is a South African people. The national liberation movement has therefore advocated the nurturing and the development of a common spirit of South which is rooted not in ethnic, racial religious or linguistic identity, but rather in the variety and diversity of South African society. As opposed to the overt and covert white supremacists, we regard this variety not as a source of conflict but as a source of and cultural wealth. That these perspectives are self-evident. Indeed their irreconcilability lies at the heart of the life and death between freedom and oppression. Speaking in this same theatre in 1976, the late comrade Alex La Guma said, inter alia, that ‘life is criterion through which the artist's imagery and literacy observations are evaluated...'Central to the life of the human race has always been struggle of humankind to change its social, economic and political life, Life, therefore embraces the struggle for liberation humankind from the forces that inhibit its development. If we accept as a virtue the diversity and rich variety of South African culture, the realization of its potential has become inextricably bound up with the struggle for freedom and democracy. During the past days, especially during the Gala Opening Night, we have all seen how great potential is. This culture of the other South Africa is the culture of democracy, the wave of the future No one can dispute the extreme elegance, grace and beauty of this democratic culture. Yet we must say, it is not a hothouse plant. It is a gnarled, tough, stubborn, though very beautiful plant, rooted in the richness of our African soil. It has over generations been lovingly tended by thousands of artists and cultural workers, sprung from the loins of our people. They have watered it with their tears, their sweat and their blood. It is tough because it has grown up in and as part of the struggle.

This emergent democratic culture, though it is distinctly South African, is not now nor has a spirit of shallow chauvinism ever animated it. It openly acknowledges its debt to other cultural traditions and prides itself not only on its capacity to absorb and learn from others but also its capacity to teach others. It is infused with an internationalist spirit and a humanist perspective. For inspiration it draws as much from Sipho Sidyiyo, John Knox Bokwe, Mackay Davashe as from Mozart, Ravi Shankar, Charlie Parker and Duke Ellington; its writers display the influence of Shakespeare and Samuel Mqhayi, of Victor Hugo and Richard Dhlomo, of Maxim Gorky and Sol Plaatje; its graphic and plastic artists blend indigenous traditions and schools with those from abroad. Nothing human is alien to it. By weaving all these bright and vivid threads into the already rich tapestry that is our South African culture, they change them while further enriching Yet, much as this is the culture of all South Africans, the numerical preponderance of the African majority has left an indelible stamp on it, both in terms of the artists who have contributed to its growth and the aesthetic values to which it subscribes.

The institutions of apartheid colonialism would indeed be easy to overthrow if they were sustained by ideology alone. The power of the system of racist domination is vested in and entrenched through the ownership and control of productive property. It is in this context that we can more clearly discern the relevance of the tale of Odysseus recounted at the beginning of this contribution. Control over financial resources, over industrial plant, over technical inputs, access to theatres 170 The task of the democratic artists is to define, through their art, the political and democratic majority. In order to do this, they must fuse with the democratic movement and the concerns of the mass of our people.

Over the past years we have witness the transfer of the strategic hands of the regime to the democratic forces. As we have seen, in many instances this has assumed a quite palpable form in the shape of alternative institutions power. This changed balance forces has driven the regime into a reactive posture — unable to determine the direction of events. The cultural sphere must increasingly also begin to reflect this change as well through the creation of alternative cultural centres, reinforcing and complementing the work of the UDF and COSATU Cultural Desks. We commend the writers musicians who have already constituted such bodies in their respective disciplines. We would urge the coalescences of these into a federation of artists and cultural workers nationwide.

We need to address also the issue of the cultural and academic boycott. From the time when Chief Luthuli called upon the international community to impose sanctions against apartheid South Africa, the cultural and academic boycotts were conceive as instruments for the isolation of the racist regime. In effect, the democratic movement fighting for freedom in our country was calling upon the rest of the world to join us in isolating the regime internationally, just as we were seeking the regime's total isolation within the country. This objective — the total isolation of the regime and its supporters — remains unchanged.

Yet there is intense debate today about the validity and the wisdom of the cultural boycott. Ironically, this comes at a time when the Pretoria regime stands more isolated than at any other. Precisely the advances the democratic forces have made inside the country occasion this paradox. The emergence of a definable democratic culture — permeated with and giving expression to the aspirations of our people in struggle — is one of the features of these advances. It is development that occurs in the midst of the emergent institutions of popular power, whose duty includes drawing on the academic and cultural resources of the entire world to strengthen the cause of democracy in our country. In the words of Comrade President Tambo, in his Canon Collins Memorial Address:

'Without doubt the developing vibrant culture of our people in struggle and its structures need to be supported, strengthened and enhanced. In the same way as apartheid South Africa is being increasingly isolated internationally, within South Africa this people's culture is steadily isolating the intellectual and cultural apologists of apartheid.

'Indeed the moment is upon us when we shall have to deal with the alternative structures that our people have created and are creating through struggle and sacrifice, as genuine representatives of these masses in all fields of human activity. Not only should these not be boycotted, but more, they should be supported, encouraged and treated as the democratic counterparts within South Africa of similar institutions internationally.'

Comrades and friends

Permit me to make so bold as to propose that this CASA Conference act as the first forum at which South African artists and cultural workers, in conjunction with the mass democratic movement, the ANC and elements of the international solidarity movement, hammer out a common approach as to how we apply these principles.

In conclusion, permit me to address a special word to the family of South African artists and cultural workers, both those in the frontline trenches of the struggle at home and those who have been forced into exile to pursue their craft. The ANC does not ask you to become political pamphleteers. There are a number of those, though we need more. The ANC does not require poets to become political sloganeers, the walls of South Africa's cities testify to our wealth in those and the mastery they have of their craft. While we require propaganda art, we do not demand that every graphic artist and sculptor become a prop artist. We would urge our artists to pursue excellence in their respective disciplines — to be excellent artists and to serve the struggle for liberation with excellent art. But let us remember also that the future imposes grave obligations on us all — artists and non-artists alike. These obligations' can be best expressed in the worlds of a poet, Cosmo Pieterse:

'I sometimes feel a cold love burning, Along the shuddering length of all my spine; It's when I think of you with some kind of yearning, Mother, stepland, who drop your litter with a bitter spurning.

<<<BACK>>>