Author: Dan Roodt

Hoe het dit gekom dat Afrikaners so onderdanig aan linkse Engelse en swartes geraak het? Tans te midde van die inperking of “grendeltyd” soos dit ook genoem word, volg almal die voorskrifte wat deur die ANC-terroristebewind afgekondig word. Nie dat ek in beginsel teen sosiale afstand om die virus te kortwiek gekant is nie, maar selfs van die ultraliberale sluipskrywers van Media24 begin al wonder of ons ooit van ANC-krygswet gaan ontslae raak, noudat Bhekokwakhe “Bheki” Hamilton Cele so gewoond daaraan geraak het om ons te hiet en gebied.

Wanneer het dié onderdanigheid begin? Mens kan dit selfs na die klein groepie linkse Afrikaners in Johannesburg terugvoer wat in die sewentiger- en tagtigerjare reeds hul lot by die Anglo-Afromarxiste ingewerp het. ‘n Paar dae gelede koop ek toe mos Glen Moss se vergete boekie uit 2014, The New Radicals: A Generational Memoir of 1970s South Africa, op Amazon Kindle en laai dit af. Glenn Moss is ‘n paar jaar ouer as ek en was in die sewentigerjare ‘n lid van die berugte NUSAS, oftewel (National Union of South African Students), ‘n organisasie wat deur die destydse Veiligheidspolisie dopgehou is vanweë die revolusionêr-marxistiese menings van die leiers. NUSAS het boonop dikwels geld uit die buiteland ontvang om studente op Engelse kampusse tot marxisme, kommunisme en “die stryd” teen die Nasionale Party oor te haal.

Met die lees van Glenn Moss se boekie, is dit asof die tydmasjien my weer terug Wits toe voer; al die bekende name en gebeure. Ek onthou hoe ek in die universiteitskafeteria tydens my honneursjaar elke oggend ‘n Engelse ontbyt geëet het. Ja, vandag erken ek dit tot my skaamte. Spek en eier, met ‘n sny roosterbrood en so ‘n halwe tamatie daarby. Aaklig, olierig en ongesond. Maar dit was omtrent my enigste behoorlike maaltyd van die dag want ek het in ‘n kommune in Yeoville gebly, tesame met ‘n kunsstudent of twee, ‘n filosofiestudent genaamde Rai Turton en dan was daar ek wat besig was om my eerste roman op ‘n tikmasjien met ‘n stukkende letter “J” te tik. Elke keer as ek by “J” gekom het, moes ek die sleutel met die hand optel en teen die lint druk om die letter op my teks getik te kry. Turton het hom eerste ongewild gemaak omdat hy kritiese geluide oor marxisme en kommunisme begin maak het; hy was naamlik ‘n aanhanger van Karl Popper, Wittgenstein en die logiese positiwisme. Ek het insgelyks omtrent enige verdere loopbaan in Johannesburg gekelder deur ‘n lesing met die titel “Marx is dead” te organiseer. Dit was in die tyd van die Franse nouvelle philosophie wat uiters krities oor marxisme en kommunisme begin raak het. Onder die “nuwe filosowe” indertyd tel Alain Finkielkraut, André Glucksmann, Pascal Bruckner, Bernard-Henri Lévy, Jean-Marie Benoist, Christian Jambet, Guy Lardreau, Claude Gandelman, Jean-Paul Dollé and Gilles Susong.

Oorkant my in die kafeteria soggens by ‘n tafel was daar altyd so ‘n klein bende marxistiese studente, o.a. Barbara Hogan wat later in die vroeë tagtigerjare tot tien jaar tronkstraf vir hoogverraad gevonnis sou word. Dié “kwalifikasie” het haar ná 1994 goed te staan gekom, want op ‘n stadium is sy as blanke vrou vir ‘n kort rukkie as minister van gesondheid (2009 tot 2010) aangestel. ‘n Ander vroulike Witsstudent, wat in my tyd op die kampus was, Barbara Creecy, is die huidige minister van omgewingsake in Ramaphosa se kabinet. Dít wil gedoen wees, want sy is die enigste blanke in die hele kabinet. Watter hoër trou het sy aan die kommunisme en Afromarxisme gesweer om dié eer te beurt te val?

Ironies was Creecy in haar tyd as ondergraadse student ‘n “Prog” of “liberaal” en het haar eers later tot die marxisme bekeer. Ek onthou dat sy op ‘n keer vir die studenteraad as kandidaat gestaan het en tydens ‘n toespraak gegil het: “I’m not a polemicist!” Wat dit ook al mag beteken. Dog na my ervaring is ‘n liberaal in Suid-Afrika maar net iemand wat nog nie ‘n marxistiese seminaar bygewoon het nie.

In Glenn Moss se boek verwys hy juis na al die marxistiese seminare wat in sommige van die kommunes in Yeoville en Yeoville gehou is. Hy skryf:

Two communes where older radical students lived – one in Yeoville, the other in Melville – provided spaces where a younger group joined in discussions over whether the organisations of student government provided a vehicle for or obstacle to the politicisation of students. The anti-institutional mantra of America’s counter-culture heroes – Jerry Rubin, Abbie Hoffman – seemed to offer attractive alternatives to the formal processes of student representation. How could one, as a radical, represent students whose interests were embedded in white privilege and elitism? Surely the very institutions of student government were part of the problem and inhibited the ‘changes in individual consciousness’ that the then-influential Charles Reich believed would result in revolution.1 Student government was intrinsically authoritarian, hierarchical and part of ‘the system’ – or so it seemed.

By March 1972, growing student radicalism was increasingly challenging the strong liberal consensus on campus. A younger group of students who had arrived at university with a background of activism brought welcome numbers and ideas to radical activity. Some had been educated at Woodmead School, a private but progressive institution on the northern fringes of Johannesburg.

Toevallig was Glen Moss ‘n paar jaar gelede op ‘n slag in my huis, het een kyk na my stel leergebonde eksemplare van die WAT gegee en ewe sarkasties opgemerk: “Hopefully that will be redundant soon.”

Dis nogal ‘n bitter pil om te sluk: dat Glen Moss en sy klein groepie dom Engelse marxiste (dis nogal amusant om in sy outobiografie  te verneem hoe hy sukkel hy om Louis Althusser en die “ingewikkelde Franse marxiste” te verstaan) uiteindelik sou seëvier en aan ons dié Afromarxistiese utopie sou nalaat. Tydens dieselfde aflaai vanaf Amazon, het ek sommer Adderjan Basson van News24-faam se boek oor Gavin Watson en Bosasa aangeskaf. Watson was nog ‘n linkse Engelsman wat toe die Dept. van Korrektiewe Dienste van A tot Z besteel het. Ook baie snaaks in die boek is hoe een of ander swendelaar die Watson-familie oortuig het om R128 in sy skema met finansiële opsies te bele (dít wat ek tydens my bankloopbaan verhandel het) en toe alles verloor het. Toe doen hulle maar nog ‘n tender met die DKD!

Moss vermeld dat hulle tydens die Republiekdagviering in 1966 by Pretoria Boys High ‘n Union Jack by die skool gehys het en die Republiekvlaggies wat uitgedeel is, só gevou het dat net die Union Jack wys en dit dan trots in hul skoolbaadjiesakke gedra het. Dit was die begin van sy “rebellie”.

South Africa was declared a Republic, outside the Commonwealth of Nations, on 31 May 1961. Only a small majority of the white electorate had endorsed this, with just over 52 per cent of voters approving the proposal. This part of the electorate looked back to a nationalist and anti-imperialist past associated with the Boer Republics of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State, and viewed the ‘re-establishment’ of the Republic as a victory against the British, who had conquered the Boers in war but not in spirit.

Most English-speaking white South Africans, wedded to Commonwealth and Queen, opposed the formation of a Republic. For the vast majority of the population, the new ‘Republic of South Africa’ represented further exclusion from the central institutions of government and administration and a consolidation of apartheid-based power.

White schools were centrally involved in successive celebrations of Republic Day. I was among the primary school children in Pretoria who were handed replicas of the South African flag and a special Republic Day coin at school ceremonies in 1961. By 1966, a few pupils and teachers at the high school I attended had become less than enthusiastic about celebrating five years of a Republic. A handful of brave boys climbed the two bell towers flanking the school’s central building, erecting a Union Jack on each one in protest against what was seen as a Republic ‘for the Afrikaners’. Again, small flags were handed out as part of the festivities. I was one of the group of younger pupils who expressed opposition in a way that reflected our ‘pro-English’ bias. We folded the flags so that only the small Union Jack showed, and displayed this, handkerchief-style, in the top pockets of our school blazers.

Dis ‘n ander teorie wat ek het: dis ‘n maar ‘n paar treë vanaf die Union Jack tot by die hamer-en-sekel. Soos Barbara Creecy en baie ander wat as Prog begin het en as kommunis geëindig het. Daar is iets aan die Suid-Afrikaans-Engelse etnisiteit wat hom tot ekstremisme leen. In my tyd het ek gesien hoe maklik dit is om ‘n Engelse student te radikaliseer, net soos wat Moslemsgevangenes vandag in Franse tronke geradikaliseer word. Hy kom in as ‘n motordief of dwelmhandelaar en verlaat die gevangenis as oortuigde djihadis. Daar was iets soortgelyks aan Wits in die sewentiger- en tagtigerjare, hoewel dit al vroeër in die 1940’s begin het, met die twee aartskommuniste Joe Slovo en Ruth First op die kampus, wat ook hul eie marxistiese seminaar saam met ene Nelson Mandela in ‘n woonstel in die Johannesburgse middestad bygewoon het. (Dit word vertel in Alan Wieder se Ruth First and Joe Slovo in the War Against Apartheid. Monthly Review Press, 2013.)

Glenn Moss se opmerkings oor hoe sy Engelse identiteit by Pretoria Boys High gevorm is, toon vir ons dat die hele terreur- en propagandaveldtog vanaf 1960 af minder met “apartheid” te make had, as met etniese haat vir die Afrikaner en Afrikaans, iets wat geensins in die “postapartheidsutopie” afgeneem het nie, inteendeel. “Afrikaans must fall.”

Die streek in Frankryk waar ek by tye woon, is Auvergne. Ek lei van die plekname af dat daar eens op ‘n tyd in Auvergne Oksitaans gepraat is. Dis eintlik tragies, hoeveel minderheidstale die revolusionêre Franse doodgemaak het. Toe ek van die breinskade by Wits herstel het — omring deur die wêreldvreemde, dom koloniale Engelse wat ‘n marxistiese klok gehoor het en nie weet waar die bel hang nie — het ek besef: Ek haat die revolusie! Dié van 1789, 1917 en veral 1994.

Ongelukkig staan ons maar nog aan die begin van ons lyding: die rand is nou op R20 teen die euro, maar ons gaan nog R30 en R50 en R100 sien. As die Glen Mosse en die Gavin Watsons en hul ANC-surrogaatvriende die staatskas leeg gesteel het en die staatsdienspensioenfonds klaar geplunder het, gaan die privaatpensioene volg. En natuurlik die paar Afrikanerboeregesinne se grond.

Daar is mos so ‘n Engelse tannie by ‘n ding genaamd PLAAS, Ruth Hall. Sy adviseer Ramaphosa oor sy “grondbeleid” en wil volslae kommunisme en kolgosse invoer. Dis nog ‘n fassinerende onderwerp: die Engelse marxistiese tannies, van Ruth First af tot by Ruth Hall. Die boek Rut, as’t ware. Dalk stof vir ‘n artikel in ‘n buitelandse publikasie. Dis nodig dat die hele wêreld agterkom op watter manier Suid-Afrika die prooi van die “nuwe radikale” geword het. Ons is die Kuba of Sowjetunie van die een-en-twintigste eeu.

Die digteres Annesu de Vos is nog ‘n slagoffer van Wits wat al 30 jaar lank ‘n futiele politieke korrektheid in Toronto bedryf. Antjie Krog, daarteenoor, is winsgewend polities korrek in Suid-Afrika. Sy is een van die min Afrikaners wat deur die regime op die hande gedra word.

Die meeste ander linkse of kwasilinkse Afrikaners het bedroë daarvan afgekom. Die Dakargangers byvoorbeeld, wat destyds deur die ANC-SAKP gebruik of misbruik is om as terreurorganisasie politieke legitimiteit in Suid-Afrika te bekom, is oorgesien as dit by regeringsaanstellings (en tenders) kom. Van my vorige Afrikaansdosente by Wits was Dakargangers: John Miles, Ampie Coetzee (skrywer van die boekie, Marxisme en die Afrikaanse letterkunde). Coetzee se stukkie “Afrikaanse marxisme” begin met die onsterflike woorde:

Hierdie boek wil ‘n alternatiewe benadering tot die Afrikaanse letterkunde beproef deur enkele prosatekste as voorbeeld te neem. Dit is nie ‘n literêrsosiologiese studie wat die maatskappy vanuit die letterkunde wil verklaar nie; eerder ‘n Marxistiese benadering vanuit ‘n siening dat ‘n letterkunde gedetermineer is deur dieselfde magtewat ook die aard van ‘n maatskappy bepaal. Alhoewel dié ondersoek nie literêr-sosiologies is nie, sal dit nietemin sekere eienskappe in die totstandkoming en ontwikkeling van die Afrikaner se ideologie onderstreep. Soos byvoorbeeld sy strewe om ‘baas’ in sy ‘eie land’ te wees, 1) of die feit dat die Afrikaner aanvanklik teen kapitalisme en imperialisme was as eksploitasie, maar dat hy tog mettertyd die vrye ondernemingstelsel as sy uiteindelike redding gesien het.

Uiteindelik het die hele Oos-Europa, Rusland daarby inbegrepe hul “uiteindelike redding” in die “vrye ondernemingstelsel” gesien. In die tagtigerjare toe Coetzee hom toe marxisme bekeer het, kon hy dit egter nie sien nie. Soos die vele Engelstalige marxiste met wie hy omring was, het hy die Afrikaner se verknogtheid aan ‘n konserwatiewe ekonomiese beleid en vyandigheid teenoor sosialisme as ‘n vorm van “agterlikheid” gesien.

Suid-Afrika beskik nou nog oor die mees linkse Engelssprekende bevolking ter wêreld. Nêrens elders, in die VSA, VK, Kanada, Australië of Nieu-Seeland, sou Engelssprekendes so ekstreem en radikaal raak soos in Suid-Afrika nie. Glen Moss skryf trots oor dié proses in The New Radicals. Maar uiteindelik sou dit ook na Afrikaners oorspoel, om ‘n verskeidenheid van redes, sommige ideologies en ander nie.

In die eerste plaas sou geen Afrikaner werk in ‘n Afrikaanse departement werk gekry het aan ‘n Engelstalige universiteit as hy nie links was nie. Dit verklaar in vele opsigte die linkse ywer van Afrikaanse akademici aan Engelse universiteite. In die huidige Suid-Afrika heers daar so te sê ‘n linkse hegemonie aan álle universiteite sodat dieselfde beginsel deesdae aan die meeste akademiese instellings geld. Maar in die 1980s was die Afrikaanse universiteite steeds redelik gematig en nog nie verower deur marxisme en feminisme nie.

Met die ideologiese verowering van sowel die media as die universiteite deur linkse Engelssprekendes het Afrikaners toenemend onderdanig aan die “nuwe ideologie” (eintlik is die marxisme ‘n baie ou ideologie wat uiteraard na die negentiende eeu en Marx en Engels se geskrifte teruggespoor kan word) geraak. In die tagtigerjare sien ons egter die aanvang van hierdie onderdanigheid onder die klein aantal Afrikaners aan Engelse kampusse.

Een van Glen Moss se boesemvriende was ‘n Afrikaner, Gerhard Maré. Nie dat “Gerry Maré” hom ooit as “Afrikaner” sou definieer nie, maar hy was wel van huis uit Afrikaanssprekend met ‘n Afrikaanse naam. “Gerry” figureer insgelyks in The New Radicals wanneer dit kom by die klandestiene besoek van Breyten Breytenbach aan die land in 1975:

I did not need more detail. A close colleague had asked that I come to Cape Town, and that was enough. However, finances for a flight were an issue, and Gerry indicated that the costs would be covered through the Nusas student travel agency. Early on the morning of 13 August 1975, I flew to Cape Town. When I met up with Gerry, he was disinclined to tell me whom I would be meeting, or for what purposes. Again, this was not particularly unusual. Together with a number of colleagues, I had been spending more and more time in a twilight world between legality and illegality, above-ground activity and clandestine plans and intentions. This was the reality of trying to fashion a political role beyond the structures and constraints of student and campus politics.

We set off from the Nusas head office, with Gerry driving a yellow Volkswagen Beetle used as a run-around by the student organisation. Weaving our way through the city centre, we stopped at an intersection. I got out and moved into the back seat at Gerry’s request. A tall bespectacled man, wearing a white trench coat, slipped into the front passenger seat. As we drove off, he spoke to me over his shoulder, introducing himself as ‘Christian Galaska’. After a few minutes in which he and Gerry talked to each other in Afrikaans, he turned round and began asking about the publications I intended producing, and how he could get access to them. While I was cautiously explaining that subscription would be possible, with delivery by mail, Gerry suddenly pulled up. The vehicle behind us came close to tail-ending the yellow VW, confirming Gerry’s terse statement: ‘We are being followed.’

Gerry pulled off slowly, then accelerated, and began a hair-raising drive through the city centre, swinging right across ongoing traffic, turning suddenly left down smaller side streets, and accelerating up wider main roads. It soon became obvious that there was a phalanx of cars following us, no longer making any effort to avoid detection. Gerry speeded up further, onto De Waal Drive at the top of the city, along the M3, and finally cut across traffic to begin the climb up Rhodes Drive past Kirstenbosch.

A massive storm was lashing the Peninsula. Sheets of rain made it difficult to see, and strong gusts of wind threatened to blow us off the road. Conversation had ceased, as Gerry concentrated on keeping the car on the road. I watched through the rear window to see if we were making any headway in losing the line of vehicles behind us.

As we rounded a bend, Gerry braked hard. Lying across the road was a massive tree, uprooted by the high winds. We swung round in a tight turning circle and headed back down Rhodes Drive, passing the line of cars which had been following us. Slowly, they repeated the turning manoeuvre with less ease than the little VW had managed, and the procession made its way down behind us.

Back in the city centre, it was agreed that we would stop suddenly at an intersection, ‘Christian’ would jump out of the car and run off down a side street, and Gerry would drive off as fast as possible. ‘You must leave, get out of South Africa, immediately,’ Gerry told ‘Christian’. As he left the VW, two men jumped from one of the cars behind us, and followed him down a side street.

Gerry and I drove back to the Nusas head office. I made it clear that I did not want to know any details of the man we had met or his mission. I decided to return to Johannesburg as soon as possible, but did have enough time for a brief discussion with Cedric de Beer. Like everyone else in the Nusas head office, he seemed to know that something dramatic had happened. Without giving any details, I told Cedric that I was worried about the events of the past hours and feared problematic consequences.

If Cedric was aware of unusual activity, then others in the Nusas offices, including Craig Williamson and Karl Edwards, must also have known. Williamson, as Nusas treasurer, would have been aware that an air ticket had been bought for me through the student travel office. Apart from any other leaks in security – and there were in all probability many – these alone made the contact between ‘Christian’ and people like Gerry compromised from the start.

‘Christian’, of course, was Breyten Breytenbach, although I did not know this at the time. I did, however, know that there was a move afoot to recruit whites from the left to an organisation which appeared to have some ANC support. I had discussed this in Durban when I visited the Nusas congress held in July. Shortly afterwards, Jeanette Curtis mentioned that she understood that some of the non-communist leaders in the ANC were committed to loosening the influence of the SACP.

They were willing to support an initiative to set up a left-wing, but non-communist, organisation, made up predominantly of white intellectuals, who might provide some balance to the centralist and pro-Soviet form of communism represented by the SACP.

Both Jeanette and I had thought the initiative sounded dangerous and ill-conceived, although we did not have any further details about it. She did mention that there was someone in the country from whom she might obtain more information, but I think this referred to Barend Schuitema, who was apparently in Johannesburg, rather than Breytenbach. Jen had been quite ill with a bout of rheumatic fever and was confined to bed. Our discussions about what I later learnt was Okhela were limited, and the main purpose of my visits was to check on her health and establish whether she needed more reading material.

Terugskouend het Breyten Breytenbach verniet bykans agt jaar in die gevangenis deurgebring. Daar is selfs sprake daarvan dat die hele Okhela-gedoente ‘n strik was wat deur buitelandse inligtingsdienste gestel is en dat die volle besonderhede van sy koms onder ‘n skuilnaam na Suid-Afrika vooraf aan die plaaslike Veiligheidspolisie gekommunikeer is.

‘n Ander lid van Okhela, Berend Schuitema, wat oorspronklik die AABN (Anti-apartheidsbeweging Nederland) gestig het, skryf die volgende op sy woernaal:

After Breyten’s arrest and trial I was detained under the direct supervision of Johnny Makhatini in Algiers, ostensibly for an internal post mortem/inquiry/disciplinary hearing that had to take place. In the beginning of 1977 I was able to get out of Algiers while Makhatini was on a mission somewhere else, and settled in with the bulk of the remaining “Okhela” comrades in New York. The discussion was, as I found it to be, whether or not we should denounce Breyten. I vehemently objected to this approach. Breyten was in jail and it’s not ethical to denounce any one unless the facts were on the table. And in the case of Breyten these facts would only become known upon his release from jail. The position adopted that through thick and thin we would defend Breyten and maintain his integrity, while at the same time doing everything possible to make amends with the ANC. I have no qualms about Breyten and to this day still feel he was victim rather than villain. But with regard to the ANC I discover that we were both victims. And there were more victims who paid heavy prices. The whole “white left” became victim! In these latter days the ANC in fact is spinning its “liberation movement” credentials out of existence!

Wat Schuitema hier skryf oor die “white left” wat almal “slagoffers” geword het, het betrekking op hoe sommige Afrikaners en Engelssprekendes as “nuttige idiote” gebruik is om die blankes en veral Afrikaners te verdeel ten einde die magsgreep van 1994 uit te oefen. Tans word dieselfde tegnieke steeds aangewend om ons te verdeel tussen “verlig” en “verkramp”, “regs” en “links”, terwyl die ANC en SAKP na hartelus die land plunder en op die duur in ‘n tweede Zimbabwe verander.

Sodoende het Suider-Afrika, tesame met Kuba en Noord-Korea, die laaste buitepos van die kommunisme geword. Is dit iets om op trots te wees?

Kennelik dink Glen Moss en Gerry Maré só, asook natuurlik die vele hedendaagse bekeerlinge tot Suid-Afrikaanse marxisme, soos Adriaan Basson en Pieter du Toit van News24, Piet Croucamp wat so gereeld op RSG sy ANC-propaganda uitsaai, Azille Coetzee oor wie ek voorheen hier geskryf het en ‘n hele horde Engelssprekendes wat steeds onherroepelik in die greep van die “nuwe radikalisme” verkeer.

Hulle is die waghonde van die stelsel wat moet sorg dat Afrikaners en blankes in die algemeen gehoorsaam aan die ANC en SAKP bly in hierdie radikale Klein Engeland met sy deftige ousies — ons ekwivalent van die Russiese nomenklatoera — wat in Porsche Panameras rondry.

Arme Verwoerd, die gebore Amsterdammer wat hom daar op die Parlementsvloer doodgebloei het, ná die messteke van die Baster-Griek waaraan die lintwurm van kommunisme insgelyks gevreet het. Onlangs ontvang ek dié interessante aanhaling in my e-pos:

“I want to emphasise that South Africa should not be condemned in the way she is condemned; that there should be no interference with her affairs; and that South Africa cannot allow it, but will have to oppose every attempt to interfere in our affairs, also if it comes in the form of an attempt to change the sentence imposed by our courts. I shall not be a party to anything of this nature. When saying this, I ask the Western world at least also to look after its own interests, and to realise that if South Africa were to fall a prey to Communist conspiracies, the West would suffer also. Even if the West assists in making us fall prey by trying, in the atmosphere which prevails, to gain the friendship and support of everybody else at the cost of South Africa, it should bear in mind that if a conquered South Africa becomes Communist, the noose about the neck of Europe and America will only be drawn tighter.

It will not only be the end of us, but also the beginning of the end for them. When therefore it is said in those circles that they are glad that Mandela received a life sentence and not the death sentence, because he may still, like Kenyatta, become the leader of the future, then I say, ‘God forbid!’ If that were to happen, not only would South Africa be doomed and become Communist, but then the world would in time be conquered by Communism, because after that the only bastions which still protect White civilization against that pernicious ideology would fall one after another.” Dr Verwoerd’s comment after the conclusion of the Rivonia trial. Quoted in Lauritz Strydom Rivonia unmasked, Voortrekker Pers, Johannesburg.

As ‘n mens na die manewales van Europese diplomate in Pretoria kyk, dan is Verwoerd se profesie al bewaarheid. Dit moet nog net na Merkel en Macron toe deursyfer, sou ek sê.

Glen Moss gaan nog Duitsland regeer, of ten minste, die Glen Moss-idee van “gelykheid tussen rasse en klasse”, soos verkondig in die gefotokopieerde blaadjie “Work in progress” en befonds deur die alomteenwoordige Sweedse geldstroom, wat hy volgens The new radicals vanaf die Afrikanerdominee, Beyers Naudé, onvang het. Blykbaar het Oom Aambei, soos ek hom noem, by tye tot die Here gebid en gevra dat hy hom nie in versoeking moet stel met al die Sweedse geld in sy bankrekening nie.

Die ironie is dat verskeie Westerse lande, waaronder Nederland, maar veral Swede, in die vroeë negentigerjare gesorg het dat Suid-Afrika wel deur ‘n kommunistiese party en sy frontorganisasie, die ANC, regeer sou word terwyl die res van die wêreld in Oos-Europa, maar ook Asië, op daardie stadium kommunisme grondig verwerp het.

Waar Afrikaners eens sterk anti-kommunisties was, het baie soos die Oos-Duitsers voor hulle, “goeie kommuniste” geword en staan immer gereed om ‘n mede-Afrikaner by die owerheid te gaan verkla of by die werk te laat afdank omdat hy hom nie by die heersende ideologie neerlê nie.

As organisasie het Okhela destyds misluk, maar die kiem van onderdanigheid aan die groter ANC is daar geplant en leef vandag voort aan die Universiteit van Stellenbosch en by Media24 wat natuurlik deur die bank die Suid-Afrikaanse Kommunisteparty as ‘n geskenk van God ophemel. Nie verniet nie het Stellenbosch ‘n eredoktorsgraad postuum aan Bram Fischer toegeken, met die volle ondersteuning van Koos Bekker, die miljardêr-voorsitter van Naspers, die moedermaatskappy van Media24.