almost as early as some of the black tribes migrating into the area. Small wonder that these Europeans came to think of themselves as genuine natives of the continent, as Afrikaners. It is with good reason that they are sometimes referred to as the “white tribe.” When the British came on the scene at the end of the eighteenth century, the Boers numbered more than fifteen thousand and had begun to develop their own Dutch-based language, Afrikaans.
Ah yes, the British. As a consequence of various European wars and the treaties that followed, they occupied the Cape in 1795, and a decade later, made it a Crown Colony. They promptly set about irritating the Boers in numerous ways, most notably by banning the use of slaves. The settlers had come to rely upon slave labor and felt that they could not continue farming without it. But the British—much to their credit, particularly in comparison with other nations of the world—had outlawed slavery in 1807.
In addition to feeling harassed by the British, the Boers were driven by an innate frontier-seeking hunger. For whatever complex set of reasons, in the 1830s they embarked on the Great Trek, an event of mythic import in the evolution of Afrikaner culture. Between 1835 and 1837, several thousand families—some fourteen thousand individuals—packed their wagons, hitched up their oxen, gathered their servants, their slaves, and their livestock, and headed far inland from the Cape. To the north, they founded the Orange Free State and the Transvaal, and to the east they crossed the Drakensberg Mountains and entered Natal. The territory that the whites called Natal happened to be the region that the Zulus called home.
The word “Zulu” evokes images of ferocious warriors brandishing shields and spears. Yet, for all their warlike reputation, this tribe’s entrance onto the stage of history was remarkably benign. Prior to 1800, they were one of approximately twenty Nguni-speaking clans who lived in harmony with the land, and in relative peace among themselves, in the area now known as KwaZulu Natal. These clans were patrilineal chiefdoms, consisting of a number of loosely linked family groups. The people were pastoralists, and the importance of cattle in their lives was symbolized by the position of the cattlefold in the center of every homestead. According to standard historical sources, disputes over land were few, and were normally settled by the members of two competing groups lining up to throw spears at each other, while hurling abuse as well. Casualties were few, and eventually one family group would yield and move off to another piece of available land. This sounds a bit too idyllic to ring completely true; but if there was a healthy balance between population and resources, we can believe that life was reasonably tranquil.
In any event, after 1800, conditions abruptly became more grim. The area was struck by severe drought; other tribes began to crowd in from the north; white farmers, even before the Great Trek, increased their pressure from the west; and European slave traders, with the complicity of some native Africans, conducted gruesomely efficient raids from the east coast. The result was an increasingly chaotic situation in which military prowess became the key to survival of clan and tribe.
Shaka, who became chief of the Zulus in 1816, was the man for that historical moment. A fierce and astute military leader, he revolutionized tribal warfare with two innovative tactics: He replaced the traditional throwing spear with a shorter stabbing spear, and he directed his troops to surround opponents in a U-formation, close in on them, and kill them with the deadly new weapon. By 1826, Shaka dominated the entire territory, militarily and politically, absorbing numerous clans and tribes into the Zulu family, and sending others in flight for their lives. In just a few years the tradition of Zulus as fearsome warriors had become established. It was to be embellished in subsequent battles with the Boers and with the British. (One of the most notable encounters in military history saw the Zulus, armed only with spears, prevail over the British and their guns in the battle of Isandhlwana in 1879.)
While the Zulus were establishing their tribal domination east of the Drakensberg Mountains in the early 1820s, most whites remained far away, in the vicinity of the Cape. However, word about the east coast, with its good weather and rich soil, was bound to spread, and in 1824, the British established a trading post there. They called it Port Natal. This port was later to become Durban—the city that was swept into the sea the day before we were scheduled to visit it. Shaka welcomed the British, at least to the extent of signing a treaty ceding them the port and much of the territory surrounding it. Shaka’s successor, Dingane, renewed the treaty in 1835, and relations remained fairly cordial, thanks to the fact that the British initially were satisfied to remain on the coast.
However, in 1837, here came the Boers, trekking over the mountains, with settlement very much on their minds. Dingane promptly massacred the Boers’ leader, Piet Retief, along with more than sixty of his followers. A few months later, under the leadership of Andries Pretorius, the Boers killed more than three thousand Zulus in the fabled battle of Blood River. They then established the Republic of Natal, with its capital inland, up in the hills at Pietermaritzburg.
This new state had a short life. In 1843, the British annexed the area and started bringing in immigrants of their own. In less than a decade, domination of the territory had shifted from blacks to Afrikaners to the British.
As the nineteenth century progressed, the Zulus were subdued by the armies of empire, and their mighty kingdom brought low. Still, overcoming many hardships and indignities, they preserved their tribal culture and pride in their noble heritage. As for the Afrikaners, once again chafing under British control, many of them left to join their fellows in the Transvaal and the Orange Free State. However, enough stubbornly stayed behind so that Natal continued to be home to three main contending groups.
Perhaps I should say four groups, because we must include the Indians—yes, the Indians, from the Asian subcontinent. Starting in 1860, the British brought them to Natal in large numbers as indentured laborers for the newly established sugar plantations. At first, they were subjected to abuse and humiliating discrimination; but after a number of decades, many of them became successful merchants and leaders of the South African business community. Although they comprised less than 3 percent of the national population, in KwaZulu Natal their representation reached more than one in ten. This is a significant presence that I never could have imagined when I first thought about the rebuilding of civilization in Southern Africa. About 70 percent of this sizable minority are Hindus, 20 percent Muslim.
Incidentally, in their early struggles for respect and civil rights, these people were led by a young lawyer named Mohandas Gandhi. That saintly man’s concepts of non-violent protest evolved during the more than twenty years he spent in Natal. It will be a blessing for our future society if his spirit resides here still.
The fates, having brought together these diverse communities at the southern end of the African continent, now introduced the element best calculated to create new extremes of turbulence: a find of diamonds, followed in 1886 by discovery of the world’s richest gold fields. The British, who otherwise might have lost interest in this unprepossessing corner of their empire, suddenly showed passionate concern. Since the mines were located in the north-central lands to which the Boers had laid claim, one could have predicted the coming of conflicts that would culminate in war. An announced cause of the South African War (1899-1902) between the British and the Boers was the anger of recently arrived immigrants who were not granted the right to vote in government elections. But the war wasn’t about votes; it was about wealth. And, in the end, the might of the British Empire prevailed.
The brutal conflict, which lasted two and a half years, pitted almost a half-million imperial troops against eighty-seven thousand farmer-soldiers. The Boers, waging guerrilla warfare, enjoyed some initial successes. But when Lord Kitchener embarked on a scorched-earth policy, and rounded up the civilian population into concentration camps, the outcome was ordained. Some twenty-five thousand Afrikaner women and children died of disease and malnutrition in the camps, another grim ordeal etched indelibly in the tribal memory.
It is notable, I think, that for all their bravery and zeal, the Afrikaners did not fight on to a suicidal end, as a few of their number urged. Neither did the Zulus when they finally discerned the almost limitless resources of their enemies. History shows us that the Afrikaners and the Zulus—along with the other tribes of South Africa—have been essentially pragmatic when confronting adversity.
The British, too, are pragmatists of the first order, famous for their Magna Carta, for their “bloodless” revolution of 1688, and numerous accommodations between the classes.
The story of South Africa in the twentieth century is, in fact, a testimony to the possibilities of compromise. While fanaticism and uncompromising hatred festered in other parts of the world, good sense and goodwill prevailed in South Africa. This sounds strange, given what we know about the evils of apartheid. And, admittedly, democracy and order did not prevail without exploitation, conflict, and many terrible deeds. But considering the difficulties to be overcome, and the potential for unspeakable slaughter and anarchy, the democratic multiracial elections of 1994
