JOHANNESBURG, Feb. 26 — "Proudly South African" is this nation's E Pluribus Unum, a slogan stamped on products, echoed in radio commercials and inculcated into the new South African DNA. Much as America's motto celebrates melding many into one, South Africa's says that it doesn't matter what you look like — we can all be proud of our young country.
Enter Louis Pepler, who, perhaps inadvertently, has cast the notion of South African pride in a whole new light. He and two friends penned an unlikely rock ballad about an Afrikaner general named De la Rey who battled British forces a century ago, and it instantly became an Afrikaner anthem.
Mr. Pepler calls the song, "De la Rey," a testament to Afrikaner pride. "I'm part of this rainbow country of ours," he said. "But I'm one of the colors, and I'm sticking up for who I am. I'm proud of who I am."
Which would be fine, except that nobody, not even Afrikaners themselves, agrees on what an Afrikaner is these days.
A dozen years after the end of an Afrikaner government that invented apartheid, the mere concept of Afrikaner pride remains an exquisitely sensitive issue among whites and blacks alike. Are Afrikaners the feared Dutch descendants who built an empire based on a belief in their God-ordained racial superiority? Are they just another ethnic group, like the Zulu and Sotho and Xhosa, with a distinct place in the new democracy? Or are they South Africans first and foremost— 2.5 million whites in a stewpot of 4.5 million whites among 47.5 million people — and Afrikaners second, or third?
"De la Rey" has become a vessel for those aspirations and fears and, for the last month, the object of a caustic, often racially tinged national debate.
I'm generally pretty mellow about this sort of thing, but I can certainly see the concern here. The Afrikaners ruled with an iron fist, disenfranchised millions of their countrymen, and sought to silence political dissent. They were no heroes. (And I'm even cutting them a bit of slack because many members of the Irish resistance fought with the Boers, under the highly complex theory that if you were shooting at a Brit, for whatever cause, it was a good thing.) Idealizing one of their historical forebears strikes me as pretty offensive, even if intended innocently--and I'm not convinced it was.
Taken literally, the lyrics are clear: "De la Rey" is a song about Afrikaner history. In the Second Boer War, from 1899 to 1902, a much larger British force overwhelmed the Boers, or Afrikaners, in a scramble for gold and land — but only after Gen. Koos de la Rey inflicted punishing defeats on the British. Nearly 28,000 Afrikaners and perhaps 20,000 black Africans died in British concentration camps during the war, many of them women and children. Their suffering is a central theme in Afrikaner lore.
Mr. Pepler's song is set in the trenches of that war. In the music video, a blooded and beleaguered Afrikaner soldier sings of "a handful of us against a whole big force" and "a nation that will rise again" — as the Afrikaners later did, winning control of South Africa in an election in 1948.
"De la Rey, de la Rey," the refrain pleads, "will you come and lead the Boers?"
But while the lyrics as a whole refer to the Boer War, some see in those phrases, and in the soldier's hopeless plight, a metaphor for Afrikaners' reduced place in post-apartheid society. His plea for a leader is viewed as a call for resistance to South Africa's government, which is based on universal suffrage.
The lyrics are as follows:
Delarey - Bok van Blerk lyrics (English Translation)
On a mountain in the night
We lie in the dark and wait
In the mud and the blood
As rain and streepsak clings to me
And my house and my farm were burnt to the ground so they could capture us
But those flames and those fires now burns deep deep within me.
De La Rey, De La Rey can you come and lead the Boers?
De La Rey, De La Rey
General, General we will fall around you as one.
General De La Rey.
The Khakis that laugh
A handful of us against an massive force
With our backs to the cliffs of the mountains
They think its over for us
But the heart of a Boer is deeper and wider, they will come to see
On a horse he comes, the lion of West Transvaal
De La Rey, De La Rey can you come and lead the Boers?
De La Rey, De La Rey
General, General we will fall around you as one.
General De La Rey.
Because my wife and my child are in a camp dying,
And the Khakis are walking over a nation that will rise again
De La Rey, De La Rey can you come and lead the Boers?
De La Rey, De La Rey
General, General we will fall around you as one. General De La Rey.
What do you guys think?
UPDATE: I actually thought a lot about this song all night, plus I got a commenter from Pretoria (I checked the IP and everything!) who calls this "a big sob story." So it's as I imagined, the rough equivalent of, say, Jerry Lee Lewis penning a song in 1955 celebrating Stonewall Jackson, as an expression of ethnic pride in the face of the civil rights movement which, by implication, denigrates the goals of that movement and celebrates the racist underpinnings of the system which has been dismantled.
It's not that Pepler's song is actively racist: it doesn't need to be. Like many colonial texts, it focuses on the battle between the white people over who gets to control the resources and the land of the third world: the actual indigenous population might as well not even exist in this formulation. They're even less important than the landscape, which at least merits a mention. The only people who "matter" are the soldiers and the obligatory blonde wife and child. Christ, even Heart of Darkness was more sympathetic to the indigenous African population than this. At least they existed, however dehumanized.
I'm not suggesting that we're in "Skinhead Boy" territory here: at least not intentionally. But part of the point of Lynx and Lamb is that they, well, kind of suck, and this doesn't, really. It's well-produced and catchy (partly why I ruminated on it all night), both anthemic and orchestral at the same time.It's apparently become something of an arena chant at South African sporting events. (It was banned, and then unbanned at Loftus Versfeld Stadium, a rugby pitch in Pretoria.)
There's clearly a difference between hate speech and racial pride, or is there? Does it matter who speaks, what their history is?