home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
TIME: Almanac 1990
/
1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso
/
time
/
091189
/
09118900.032
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1990-09-17
|
5KB
|
94 lines
WORLD, Page 42SOUTH AFRICAThe Great White HopeCould 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.