Since 1994, South Africa has been trying to heal the wounds of Apartheid. Everywhere you look now, there is political correctness. But how quickly can people really change the ways they’ve learned to think South Africa brands itself according the ideals of democracy, peace and reconciliation – yet, how do previously extremist attitudes manifest in its current society?
Many of the former freedom fighters have now found wealth and security in governmental positions. There is a growing black elite, driving BMW’s, moving out of the townships they fought for, into richer suburbs. The Afrikaner has been forced to curb his racist opinions and some have had to deal with extreme guilt, depending on their involvement in Apartheid. Afrikaans as a language remains celebrated and widely spoken, but Afrikaner culture as it used to be upheld under Apartheid has been reduced to something of a joke. Many of the bitterly disillusioned traditionalists, and those left with special police force training, have found a new home in Iraq with the Blackwater mercenary firm, and the added benefit of earning dollars.
I embarked on a hands-on investigation into specific sites in the country, which I thought might constitute the identities I was looking for. My first stop was Soweto, Johannesburg, where I found a new Freedom Charter-inspired development called Kliptown Open Air Museum. I then went on to Orania, the thirteen year old Afrikaner village/micronation in semi-desert conditions in central South Africa.

Kliptown Open Air Museum, Soweto
Date: 11-14 December 2007

In 1955, on Kliptown’s soccer field, the first Freedom Charter was signed in an attempt to counter the Apartheid policy of the time. The peaceful optimism which was witnessed at this occasion was only to re-emerge again in the 1990’s when the famous, but archaic Charter was once again pulled out of hiding, dusted off and its intentions were to put to good use.
Kliptown dated back as far as the 1940s. Locals remember it as a place where all races could live together. It was and is used by Indian people as a trading site for selling goods to locals. Today Kliptown is a very poor community, with most of its residents living in shantytowns. Its Open Air Museum, developed two years ago by a private equity firm, is an attempt to use the political significance of the area and its Freedom Charter roots to create a grand, sprawling spectacle catering for every foreign visitor interested in the rainbow nation.
The Walter Sisulu Square of Dedication dominates the Open Air Museum complex with its stark grey architecture. The branding of the Open Air Museum incorporates African vernacular, organic forms with the rawness of bare concrete and details like the use of the rusted iron roofs from shacks removed from the area, with indigenous thorn trees for foliage. The monumental structures in the complex are heavily loaded with symbolic value. An example are the monolithic Pillars of Freedom, which rise out of the ground like raw concrete giants representing each of the decades of the anti-Apartheid struggle. The Freedom Charter monument in the centre of the square is a tunnel-like shape, which narrows towards the sky and has an aptly X-shaped ventilation shaft in the top, representing the act of voting. Inside, there is a circular stone table into which the promises of the Freedom Charter are engraved. In the centre of the stone wheel is a torch, out of which an eternal flame is supposed to burn. The flame is temporarily out of order.
Alongside the pristine square stretches the buzzing Indian market place. The informal street market filled with locals creates a huge contrast to the organized, Afro-chic square and deserted square. Above the market area are three storey high pillars carrying a building with balconies and large windows. This is two floors of a five star Holiday Inn hotel: the first one of its kind ever to be built in a township.

Orania, Northern Cape
Date: 1-4 January 2008

I heard about Orania for the first time in 1994. On the evening news I saw the official opening of a small town called Orania which consisted of about 300 people. They were dressed in their traditional, white ‘Voortrekker kappies’ (similar to Dutch farmer hats and black dresses), with men wearing khaki farming suits. At Orania, Afrikaners had united to build a community with an independent currency and flag, in the midst of a shaping democracy in the rest of the country. As the new South Africa sneered at the idea, the Afrikaners persisted with absolute conviction that they were protecting and upholding their culture by the grace of ‘Almagtige God’.
Orania has now grown to 600 people and its founders stick to the same ideals. They believe that their language and their culture are under threat. They resent the fact that most schools have changed to English, to be able to communicate to a broader range of cultures. They believe that Orania is the last place in the country where the ‘Volk’ are allowed to be themselves and live as it pleases them. Another principle they try to strictly maintain is their own self-sustainability. In other words: ‘Selfwerksaam –selfstandig’, as one of the many billboards in Orania says.
At the entrance to Orania, there is a barricade of control points. I was assured by the locals that they are not actually being used; they are simply reserved for future times of trouble. Once inside the small town, it feels like a safari ride back to 1960s suburban South Africa. Small fences surround generous gardens, Dobermans, and three bedroom houses. Certainly there is no electric fencing as in the real South Africa, yet the eerie feeling strengthens as one drives past the ‘Verwoerd Gedenkversameling’ memorial museum, dedicated to Hendrik Frensch Verwoerd, the original architect of Apartheid. A little further out of town is another significant monument dedicated to Afrikaner culture. It is a collection of busts of former Afrikaner leaders such as Verwoerd, Hertzog, Strydom, and Kruger. Many similar busts were torn down in the rest of the country in 1994 – here they stand on a hill overlooking the town. They form a circle and in the middle is a statue which represents the ‘new Afrikaner’. This figure is identical to the one appearing on Orania’s flag.
A little further to the other side of town, suddenly the houses and plots are half the size, and people look poor. I was told by locals that, because the town was built on top of an existing one, this poorer part was previously reserved for black workers. These days Orania is divided into rich and poor – yet all of it white. The poor part is called ‘Klein Geluk’.

Both Kliptown and Orania were developed in an attempt to emulate a safe haven and sense of achievement for their sectors of society. They go to great lengths to create structures and societal behaviour in order to validate their beliefs. The recreation of these worlds feels like you step into two alternate Disneylands, without the sparkles. Both Orania and Kliptown create a setting where they deceive their own people.

Orania assumes that Afrikaners know exactly how to construct a society, isolated from the rest of the country without the help of black labour or gold resources as in Apartheid days. Orania is so determined to keep out the black that it has began housing and employing former drug addicts and jail convicts as farm labourers as long as they are white. Meanwhile, its branding strategy tells the heroic story of Orania, a micronation from a fairytale where all live happily ever after.
Similarly, Kliptown is a monument built on the assumption that it has already met all of the promises made by the Freedom Charter. It boasts symbolic structures and engraving stones with promises such as ‘All people shall have housing and safety’, while in fact, none of those promises have been met and probably won’t be in the next ten years.
The extraordinary poverty and neglect in the immediate vicinity of Kliptown, make it a ridiculous venture. Much of the promised housing and museums planned for the area were advertised to locals but were never even started. Instead the area has sold out and become a target for foreign investment. the most glaring example of this being the exclusive five-star hotel. The Presidential Suite at the Holiday Inn is decorated with Nelson Mandela mosaics and nostalgic photographs of past leaders. The hotel is a deliberate attempt to use the ‘safe’, ‘civilized’ square and combine it with the commodified ‘unique African market experience’ on the opposite side. Guests are, of course, assured that the windows of the hotel are soundproof as not to jeopardize the luxury stay they are accustomed to. The hotel is so expensive that up until the time I visited, the Presidential Suite had never been occupied.