Events unfold with each passing moment, and though we count each minute via the seconds, with them adding up to hours, that in turn add up to days, history cannot cover it all. History often remembers only the memories of its writers and, the idea of memory as being what is remembered in terms of activity located in time and space is often overlooked when it comes to writing the history of a particular, region, era, or a given people.
History is always written from a particular point of view and is usually contested, if one is to consider the academic discussions that come to the fore once a certain aspect of history is brought into question.
The memory history records is divided into three aspects, that is, the historical memory (the memory of the dead past through known historical records), the autobiographical memory (the memories that are related to the personal experiences of a given individual), and the collective memory that includes memories from the past that inform our identities.
The latter part, that is, the collective memory of black Africans has however gotten to the point of being almost erased, and the process of trying to salvage whatever small vestiges of it that remain is a Herculean task. It will take the wills of individuals not entranced in the screens of the 4th Industrial Revolution to recover whatever pieces of collective black African memory remain.
The history of black Africans remains largely unfound, and it has to be rediscovered for the benefit of the progeny and collective identity (for there is none at this point in time, only scattered ethnocentric peoples living on a continent mapped by a people whose sole intention was to divide them). That black Africans were active participants in the different wars across the ages and that some were interned in concentration camps, like Boer civilians in South African War (1899-1902) is hardly mentioned.
Many black Africans died in these wars of diseases, exposure to the elements and conditions in the overcrowded camps. This aspect is hardly mentioned, only brief mentions of them as being loyal servants and pack men are ever made. There is nothing with regard to their origin in the sepia, monochrome and black and white photos in the history books; shabbily dressed in hand-me-downs, the black figures are always gathered around some named white figure in the history books.
It is a fact academia may deny, but the truth of the matter is that some of those names are still close enough in history to be remembered by their living progeny. The Johnny Clegg song, Universal Men covers the sadness of the forgotten black figures that raised entire civilisations of the colonial period without ever being acknowledged. The lyrics go:
Well they could not read and they could not write, and they could not spell their names
But they took this world and they changed it all the same
And from whence they came and where they went nobody knows or cares
Cast adrift between two worlds, they could still be heard to say:
Jonka mtan’ami, u nga lahli indliziyo (Look my child, don’t lose heart)
Jonka mtan’ami, u nga lahi ithemba lakho (Look my child, don’t lose your faith).
I have undone this distance so many times before
That it seems as if this life of mine is trapped between two shores
As the little ones get older on the station’s platform
I shall undo that distance just once more…
Taking the Anglo-Boer War as an example, what we hear of are only the experiences of the white side of the war that lasted four years. We know of the Boer military system that was based on locally recruited, compulsory commando service. It was a military system ideally suited to guerrilla warfare, learned from the tactics of the black army generals the Boers came across in their early encounters on their Great Trek into the interior of South Africa.
This fact is not openly acknowledged, as much as the black volunteers or conscripts are not acknowledged. It is said by history that during this period of conflict, about 30 000 farms were burnt and South Africa the country was reduced to a wasteland. The plight of the black men who served as labour on the farms before the war is hardly mentioned in the history books. We know only about the women and children, black and white, that were installed in camps which were initially ill-conceived and badly managed, giving rise to high mortality, especially of the children.
The world kept silent about the scandals of the camps became known; there was constant rape and starvation in the poorly managed concentration camps: and the mismanagement was intentional. European humanitarian aid shifted to the provision of comforts for women and children, largely to the white side within the fences of the concentration camps. It was an atmosphere where charitable relief for the camps was often provided by informal women’s organisations for the sake of the children that died in large numbers.
These groups or organisations ranged from church groups to personal friends of the Boers, and to women who wished to be associated with the work of their men-folk. The aid was however aimed at the whites and not the blacks who had to make do with the little they could scrounge.
“Although the South African War could be described as a “small” war, involving a limited number of combatants in a fairly remote colonial outpost, it raised questions about the conduct of war and the treatment of combatants and civilians that were to recur in the era of total war that followed in 1914 with the First World War,” says an article Marie Dominique-Verkerk.
The article also states that many elements that reveal the true face of the South African conflict had already emerged in the course of the nineteenth century. An example is made of the Crimean War (1853–1856), where journalists, using the telegraph, enabled the public to follow events closely in cheaper mass-produced newspapers.
The result of the committed journalism in the Crimean War and the following wars meant that public opinion became a more important factor in responses to war. The covering however remained Euro/White-centric, meaning that the experiences of the black Africans that ever took part in the wars remained uncovered and therefore unrecorded in the history books that followed in the wake of the wars. History is written for and by those that write it if the experiences of the black soldiers that took part in the different wars across the ages are to be noted.
Dominique-Verkerk further states, “Although the South African War has been described as a “white man’s war”, this was far from being the case. Black people formed the majority of the population. The impact of white settlement had forced many to adapt to new conditions, and a considerable, if unrecorded, number of black people lived and farmed in the areas of white occupation. Although both sides often denied it, British and Boers used black men in combat and, very widely, for labour.
Black families were swept off the land along with the Boers. However, far less provision was made for them, and their fate in the early months of the British invasion is largely unknown until June 1901, when a Native Refugee Department was established and more information was recorded.”
The reality is that black families received virtually no humanitarian aid, partly because ‘the plight of black women and children aroused no interest abroad.’ The words of the blacks in the war were to be forever silenced; the issue of race and class applied in these wars as it does in the present age: any type of human pandemic always affects the lower classes more than it does the higher classes.
In this sense, the South African War and the two world wars that followed remained a colonial war in which the plight of the indigenous inhabitants aroused little interest or concern in the imperial nations; perhaps meaning that the black Africans were only good as cannon fodder and nothing else. Whoever wants to argue should point to the facts and ask themselves the question: why are there still no tales of black combatants in recent wars on popular history channels?
It is a fact that when war broke out on 12 October 1899, it engaged not only the Boers from the two republics but Afrikaners from the Cape and Natal as well, says Verkerk. It is said that although the Boers were able to rally substantial forces in the beginning, they were by no means hotly committed to this fight for freedom. Many returned home to bring in the crops and care for their families as the war continued. However, black people were in a particularly invidious position, for, after seventy years of conflict with the Boers, their tribes and societies had been reduced in numbers and territory.
Many managed to retain an ethnic identity and some independence, and although they were drawn into the conflict, this was not their war, and so they chose to look from the sidelines. However, their experiences of hardships were still equal with those on the battlefronts, because the country had literally come to a standstill. The situation was different for those blacks who were in the white-dominated areas, for many black people lived and worked on Boer farms, and some farmed independently, profiting from the new markets on the Witwatersrand’s mining boomtowns. When war broke out a number of black men rode to war with their Boer masters as agterryers (rear riders/military orderlies), leaving their families behind.
For those who remained, some disappeared quietly back to the homelands, while others stayed to help with the farm work. The British Army wanted black men as labour and, initially, drew largely on men from the Cape. Later on, it used black men that under normal times had served as mine labour since the mines had closed down. This, therefore, means that the Anglo-Boer war was far from being called a “white man’s war”.
The position of families in the black camps has been far less well documented, only vestiges and snippets appear in such works as Fred Khumalo’s work of historical fiction, The Longest March. The paucity of the historical coverage of the experiences of the black Africans in this war was due to the intentional destruction of records and ‘the tendency of whites at the time to ignore any black presence’. This means that we have only fragmentary knowledge of black civilian suffering in the war, even though black people were an integral part of republican society at the time.
Professor G N van de Bergh states in his article, The British Scorched Earth and Concentration Camp Policies in the Potchefstroom Region, 1899-1902 that, “It is clear that until June 1901, almost no provision was made for black people. Before that date, camps were eventually set up for them in the Orange River Colony, but nothing is known of the fate of black farmers in the Transvaal during this earlier period. The little information that is available for the Orange River Colony suggests that nutrition and accommodation were very inadequate and mortality must have been high.”
It is a fact that the majority of black Africans today are not even vaguely aware, hung up on the new atmosphere of neo-politics that have conveniently gone amnesiac and forgotten the real historical roots of the modern age.
The van de Bergh article further shows that in June 1901, the gold mines began to reopen and the British Army lost an important source of labour (black combatants). To deal with the problem, a Native Refugee Department was established and refugee women and children were moved into farm camps, where they were expected to grow their own food, ignoring the fact that their men were employed by the British Army and their families therefore liable to some kind of relief from the British authorities.
The farms provided some income for the families, but the parsimonious management of these camps ensured that conditions were harsh and mortality soared, as the scant surviving records indicate. It is a historical fact that medical care at these largely black farms was minimal and though some doctors were provided, there is no record of any nursing facility being established in the black African areas. There were always excuses with regard to the blatant ignorance of the black side of the population by the authorities in the course of the war.
Emily Hobhouse claimed that she did not have the resources to investigate the black camps and accused the Ladies Committee of neglect in failing to visit them. “They found nothing to complain about, as Lucy Deane, one of the Committee members, explained. She thought that Klerksdorp black camp was “beautifully run” and “cost practically nothing at all”. She added: “Everything is beautifully clean and sanitary, the people so amiable and cheerful, all of which is a sad contrast to the Boer Camps with their terrific cost and appalling difficulties, discontent and worry!”
One sees this same attitude rising up once again in the course of this pandemic, all is well and fine in the eyes of the authorities, and history will record the words of the authorities. Our history will thus and once again be scattered to the four winds like it has before, part of a literature of a people forgotten by time because the pretence is that we are fine even when history conveniently chooses to forget us. Is it a sham or a shame? I think both words fit the description.
Tšepiso S. Mothibi