TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/091189/09118900.032

Text File | 1992-09-23 | 5.4 KB | 105 lines

                                                                                WORLD, Page 42

SOUTH AFRICA

The Great White Hope


Could De Klerk be the man to break apartheid's grip?


    South African politics seems so immutable that suspense is
not even an element in this week's parliamentary elections. The
National Party will no doubt retain the ruling power it has
held for more than four decades, even if challengers on the
right and left gain a few seats. The real debate is over what
comes after the election and the inauguration of F.W. de Klerk
as State President on Sept. 16. Will he fulfill his promise to
negotiate a new deal for the country's black majority, or will
he cling to the central tenets of apartheid, only with a smiling
face?

    De Klerk, who has been acting President since P.W. Botha
resigned abruptly Aug. 14, is the great-grandson, grandson and
son of hard-line politicians. Last week, in typical style, he
was sending out signals of both toughness and flexibility.
Continuing the tentative opening to black African states begun
by Botha, De Klerk met with Zambian President Kenneth Kaunda in
Livingstone, near the Victoria Falls. Kaunda, a fierce opponent
of apartheid who chairs the so-called Frontline States bordering
South Africa, received him cautiously, preferring to wait and
see what the new President might do. De Klerk had outlined some
"basic principles," Kaunda said, and with those, "I see no
disagreement at all." Said De Klerk: "He listened very
carefully." Back home, however, South African police were using
whips, tear gas and detentions to put down the biggest outburst
of rioting and civil disobedience since the state of emergency
was declared in June 1986.

    Campaigning on a promise of new vision from a new leader,
De Klerk committed himself to launching a "great indaba," a
national convention, that would write a new constitution giving
the blacks, 75% of the population, a role in national politics
for the first time. "Dialogue and negotiations are the key to
the future," he said, "and we are going to turn that key."
Blacks are skeptical, and many whites afraid, but a feeling is
growing that some kind of major transition is coming to South
Africa. To a great extent, whether it is relatively peaceful or
violent will be up to De Klerk.

    There is no question that the new chief executive is a more
reasonable and affable person than his scowling, finger-wagging
predecessor, and one far more attuned to the art of public
relations. A senior diplomat in Cape Town believes De Klerk has
"fewer hang-ups" about blacks than Botha: "He is articulate,
self-confident and earnest." At the same time, De Klerk is a
conservative Afrikaner from the sun-baked Transvaal and the man
who said earlier this year, "There is no such thing as a
nonracial society in a multiracial country."

    Rumors, or possibly calculated leaks, are circulating that
De Klerk intends to set the stage for his indaba by releasing
imprisoned black nationalist Nelson Mandela, easing the state
of emergency and removing the ban on the political wing of the
outlawed African National Congress. Even so, black leaders
doubt that De Klerk will suddenly back away from his repeated
pledges to protect white "group rights," maintain segregated
residential districts and schools and develop a system of
political institutions based solely on race. Anglican Archbishop
Desmond Tutu, for one, is unimpressed. "Whatever white
government comes into power," says he, "this country is going
to the dogs."

    To underline the same conviction, the Mass Democratic
Movement, a loose coalition of banned antiapartheid
organizations, launched a "defiance campaign" a month ago.
Protesters have been forcibly entering such officially
segregated places as whites-only hospitals, buses and beaches.
Predictably, police swooped down on the offices and homes of
defiance organizers and arrested hundreds of activists.
Meanwhile, riot squads fired bird shot and rubber bullets to
disperse rock throwers, and used batons and tear gas to break
up peaceful marches.

    De Klerk warned that he would not tolerate "those who
advocate violence and confrontation in the name of peaceful
resistance." In the midst of an election campaign, he could
hardly take a softer position without scaring more frightened
white voters into the camp of the ultraright Conservative Party.
But speaking for the M.D.M., Tutu said solemnly, "The defiance
campaign will continue until it reaches the goal of dismantling
apartheid. We are not playing marbles, man." The Archbishop was
tear-gassed at a demonstration two weeks ago, and he and his
wife Leah were among the 36 activists who were arrested in
downtown Cape Town last week as they began a march to protest
the alleged beating of clergy and other church workers during
an antiapartheid demonstration.

    Western governments and the Commonwealth, holding new
economic sanctions at the ready, are also watching De Klerk for
signs of movement. "We want to see whether anything is actually
done, whether political prisoners are released and the state of
emergency is lifted," said a State Department official in
Washington. Like the white voters of South Africa, most of the
world is in a mood to give De Klerk a chance. There is no
evidence yet that the moment for significant change is at hand
in South Africa. But if it is, no one wants to let it slip away
untested.