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De Klerk, the most pious of politicians
Jan 22, 1999
David Beresford: A SECOND LOOK
There is something gloriously tragic about the story of the Afrikaners' search for a national identity and a home to call their own: the flight from the Cape, the jubilant discovery of the Nile (wrong stream, but what the heck) and their arrival in their garden of Eden, only to be robbed of it by that thieving imperialist, Lord Alfred Milner, thanks to the discovery of gold (richest of ironies).
And then the long haul again; their political trek to power in 1948 and their attempts to forge an ideological laager to keep out the modern counterparts to the heathen tribesmen and the uitlanders of the 19th century - only to find that time and circumstance had once more matched them against an enemy they could not defeat, this time in the form of a global consciousness, if not exactly a global conscience.
So the Peace of Vereeniging can be equated to the peace thrashed out at Kempton Park. Just as FW de Klerk offers a reassurance to the volk that this is not the end for them, but merely a fresh challenge - The Last Trek: A New Beginning - so did Paul Kruger console his followers at the end of his Memoirs, published nearly a century ago: "Nor, in so far as I myself am concerned, will I consent to lose courage because the peace is not such as the burgers wished it. For, quite apart from the fact that the bloodshed and the fearful sufferings of the people of the two Republics are now ended, I am convinced that God does not forsake His people, though it may often appear so."
Kruger has been badly treated by history, a victim, one suspects, of the "bodyguard of lies" over whose wartime services that Anglo-Boer War veteran, Winston Churchill, was later to enthuse. Certainly the memoirs of the man who tends to be remembered in history as a figure of fun - a bewhiskered "flat-earther - deserve a place of honour among the great adventure books which Africa has produced in such profusion.
Of course there has been a change in the terrain since Kruger's time. De Klerk, after all, could hardly be expected to thrill his readers with an account of a life-and-death wrestling match in a swamp with a buffalo. But, on the evidence of his autobiography, the suspicion must be that the last president of what might be described as the second South African Republic would avoid such an encounter less out of fear for the outcome than concern that he should not get his shirtsleeves dirtied. He is, in short, "Mr Clean" - a politician who dreams Teflon.
"Like any other people in the world at any time in history we were the products of our time and circumstances," he pleads in mitigation early in the book. "Much of human history has been a tale of discrimination and exploitation ..." Thus primed for an account of personal involvement in one such "tale of discrimination and exploitation", the discovery that in De Klerk's case the royal "we" excludes "me" from the ambit of confession is, to say the least, disappointing.
The De Klerks were at the centre of power in South Africa for much of the short history of apartheid. His father, who served in the Cabinet under prime ministers Hans Strijdom, Hendrik Verwoerd and John Vorster, nearly became state president (being foiled by a smear campaign, the nature of which his son does not confide). De Klerk himself followed suit, being leapfrogged into Cabinet as Vorster's "blue-eyed boy" and holding a variety of portfolios until he succeeded PW Botha in 1989.
In all this time De Klerk emulated United States President Bill Clinton smoking dope - holding back from the sin of inhalation. He was a member of the Ruiterwag and the Broederbond, but never actually served on any of their structures. He presided over the administration of race classification, but "in the most humane manner possible and (tried) wherever I could to accommodate the special needs of the human beings involved".
He attended State Security Council meetings, but failed to pay attention to security matters and left the legality of its activities to the better qualified such as then justice minister Kobie Coetsee. He watched Cabinet rule being reduced to "window dressing" under Botha, but "could do very little to change this state of affairs and had to be content with playing a watchdog role".
As one follows the career path of this supremely toothless "watchdog", this most pious of politicians, one can only sympathise with President Nelson Mandela's irritation with him - an irritation which, at least by De Klerk's account, appears to have driven the great man to acts of pettiness over the allocation of State homes after the National Party's 1994 election defeat.
Part of the irritation with De Klerk lies in the apparent paradox that a man who was instrumental in destroying apartheid could have lived in the belly of the beast for so long without protest. How could a man who claims a place in history as a "great reformer" have shown such lack of passion for principle?
The Last Trek offers no explanation. But there is a temptation to see at least a clue to it in an account De Klerk gives of the final humiliation of Vorster when he was hunted down in Cabinet as the sacrificial goat in the Muldergate scandal. De Klerk recounts, with no apparent regret, how he seemingly delivered the coup de grâce by telling his political mentor that he should go "for his own sake and for the sake of the country".
Voster "closed the documents that had up until then lain open before him. Shortly afterwards he ended the conversation by announcing that he would resign." De Klerk adds that when Vorster died in 1983, the family asked him to stay away from the funeral. The entire story is recounted with the calculating dispassion of a chess player revisiting a game, or of a fishmonger gutting a fish.
But, amid all the self-justification, comes the most powerful image of the book which, hopefully, will prove more enduring than speculation as to De Klerk's curious character.
It is May 4 1994 and the ministers are gathered as usual under the vaulted roof of the Cabinet room in the Union Buildings. The French doors leading to the balcony are closed and shuttered as always, for security reasons. In the panelling of the semi-circular wall behind De Klerk's chair are set two small alcoves containing bronze statuettes of two Voortrekker women by Anton van Wouw. They are the models for the statues that stand at the "Vrouemonument" in Bloemfontein, commemorating the women and children who died in British "concentration camps" during the Anglo- Boer War. Elsewhere on the walls are landscapes by JH Pierneef and Tinus de Jongh.
The meeting, observes De Klerk, was historic - "the last manifestation of white rule, not only in South Africa, but on the whole continent of Africa. It signalled the end of a process that began with the first council meeting convened by Jan van Riebeeck, the Dutch founder of the Cape, 342 years earlier. We began our meeting, as always, with a prayer. On this occasion it was the turn of Mr Jac Rabie, the coloured minister of population development ..."
And the coloured minister led them in prayer! It is a small detail in the greater scheme of things. But it offers reassurance that, wherever it may take them, at least the Third Trek will be informed by an appreciation of a shared humanity. Thus, therefore, to the stars.
FW de Klerk's autobiography, The Last Trek: A New Beginning, is published by Macmillan
`How Mandela humiliated me'
Dec 15, 1999
David Beresford highlights aspects of FW de Klerk's soon to be released autobiography, in which the former state president describes his stormy relationship with the `vicious' Nelson Mandela
Former state president FW de Klerk has prepared a broadside against President Nelson Mandela in their long-running feud over their respective places in history, with his long-awaited autobiography.
The Last Trek: A New Beginning contains lengthy accounts of the bitter squabbles which developed between the two men who, ironically, jointly won the world's greatest prize for their combined contributions to peace in South Africa.
The book recounts how De Klerk first met Mandela in 1989 when the then prisoner and unrehabilitated "terrorist" was smuggled into Tuynhuis through the basement garage.
"During most of the meeting each of us cautiously sized up the other," says De Klerk. "The first impressions that he conveyed were of dignity, courtesy and self-confidence. He also had the ability to radiate unusual warmth and charm - when he so chose."
The qualification was a judicious one, because his regard for Mandela soon began to slip - when the African National Congress leader made his first public address, to the rally on Cape Town's Grand Parade on the day of his release. He "failed completely to rise to the occasion", says De Klerk, delivering a speech "evidently drafted by hardline ideologues" recommitting the ANC to the armed struggle.
Relations between the president and his predecessor began their slide into insults and recriminations with the opening speeches at the Codesa I peace talks, at the World Trade Centre, when De Klerk criticised the ANC over its alleged breaches of the earlier DF Malan accord.
Mandela, who had already spoken, insisted on returning to the podium to deliver what De Klerk calls "one of the most vicious personal attacks on a political opponent that most of those present at Codesa had ever heard.
"He accused me of being the head of an illegitimate discredited minority regime and of being incapable of upholding moral standards," De Klerk says indignantly. "As he piled insult on insult I found it difficult to control my fury. My first reaction ... was to walk to the microphone and rip off the ANC's mask in the strongest possible verbal counter- attack."
Fortunately, says De Klerk, "Mandela spoke long enough to give me time to regain control of myself". Realising that his entire reform crusade could be at stake he decided not to respond. "National interest demanded I should transcend my own ego."
When Codesa adjourned for the Christmas season, Mandela shook De Klerk's hand goodbye. "I accepted Mandela's gesture as gracefully as I could," says De Klerk, "but felt that there was no longer any possibility of our ever again having a close relationship. The fact remained that Mandela's vicious and unwarranted attack created a rift between us that never again fully healed."
The relationship continued to be eroded by the series of domestic crises which accompanied the hair-raising ride to a settlement. It deteriorated further when the unhappy couple made their separate ways to Oslo to collective their respective shares in the Nobel Peace Prize. "Before my arrival he [Mandela] had chosen once again to attack me in interviews he had given to the media. Apparently he was not pleased with the decision to include me in the award."
The awards ceremony itself passed off peacefully, but later De Klerk and his wife, Marike, were subjected to insults by the Norwegians when the couple were taken on to a balcony with Mandela to witness a "spontaneous" torchlight parade in the snow. "It was very picturesque and quaint. Then they started shouting ANC slogans, praising Mandela while I was made to feel quite unwelcome. I heard some of the people shouting: `Kill the farmer, kill the boer.'"
The relationship finally hit rock- bottom over the vexed question of who got which presidential mansion in Pretoria after De Klerk had lost the presidency to Mandela.
Mandela was expected to move into the Presidency, which used to accommodate the ceremonial state president, and De Klerk was told that, as co-deputy president, he and Marike could remain in Libertas. Then Mandela told him that he was under great pressure from the ANC to move into Libertas, as that was seen to be the home of the head of government.
"No sooner had we become used to this idea than he informed me that he was now under pressure from his senior colleagues to use the Presidency for other purposes."
The De Klerks were then given Overvaal, the former home of the Transvaal administrators. The Department of Public Works agreed that Overvaal needed substantial refurbishing. "The final humiliation that I had to endure in the saga of the official residence was when President Mandela insisted on personally inspecting Overvaal to satisfy himself that the refurbishment was, indeed, necessary.
"One winter Saturday morning he joined me and the public works architect at Overvaal. Together we walked through the house while the architect explained why a new fridge was needed here and repainting and redecoration was needed there."
De Klerk said it was a matter of "supreme indifference" to him which of residence they occupied. "But not Marike. She was deeply distressed by all the chopping and changing which she interpreted as a calculated attempt by Mandela himself to humiliate us ... This latest humiliation became too much for her to swallow. She became very critical of Mandela and did not hesitate to voice her criticism."
Much of the autobiography is taken up with attempts by De Klerk to justify his involvement in the apartheid system. "Like any other people in the world at any time in history we were the products of our time and circumstances," he pleads, going on to exculpate himself with accounts of his "liberal" gestures - from his defiance of Potchefstroom University authorities by inviting Chief Albert Luthuli to an off-campus meeting, to his administration of the race classification laws "in the most humane manner possible".
He also goes to great lengths to distance himself from state violence, including the activities of the so-called third force. He describes how, in January 1990, he was on holiday at a presidential residence on the Natal coast when General Magnus Malan flew down to tell him that he had just discovered the existence of the military assassination squad, the Civil Co-operation Bureau (CCB).
"General Malan appeared to be as shocked as I was and assured me he had taken immediate steps to investigate and disband the organisation."
Declaring that the activities of such as the CCB were "deplorable and inexcusable", De Klerk says their attempts to undermine the transformation process bordered on treason.
De Klerk is savage in his portrayal of his predecessor, PW Botha, a man whom he describes as a "bombastic bully" who ran an "imperial" style of government, surrounding himself with 500 personal staff and cutting himself off from reality.
He paints a pitiful picture of Botha in retirement, apparently descending into senility. He recounts how at one stage he visited the old man in his home in Wilderness, to try and persuade him to make a joint submission with the National Party to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
Botha had no interest in the idea as they talked over coffee and koeksisters, abruptly switching the subject of conversation to accuse the younger man of joining "an evil conspiracy in the world, called the New World Order" which was led by then United States president George Bush and included former minister of foreign affairs Pik Botha.
"I became extremely annoyed and told him that I had not come to visit him to be insulted and cross-examined," recalls De Klerk. "I said that he had really treated me very badly."
PW Botha looked taken aback. "He said it was unfair of me to say that I had been treated badly; after all, his wife had given me coffee and koeksisters. I almost fell off my chair. I stood up and said now I had to go."
De Klerk also rehearses the now well- known story of how he abandoned his wife and religious principle in favour of Elita Georgiadis, the wife of their "good friend", the Greek shipping magnate, Tony Georgiadis.
He describes how Tony Georgiadis had come to him in Cape Town, to inform the South African head of state "that he had become aware of the love between me and Elita. A painful yet friendly and civilised discussion followed. I had great respect for the dignified way in which he dealt with a very difficult situation."
De Klerk assures the reader that "my relationship with Elita did not impact in any significant way on the major [political] decisions I took".
What FW did not want you to see
October 30, 1998
Howard Barrell
The Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was ready to declare FW de Klerk "an accessory to gross human rights violations" before the former president brought an urgent court action to stop this conclusion being carried in the TRC's final report, released in Pretoria on Thursday.
The commission had provisionally concluded that De Klerk's failure to take legal action against senior government officials who, it alleges, he knew were involved in unlawful acts had "contributed to creating a culture of impunity within which gross human rights violations were committed".
The TRC also intended finding that De Klerk had "lacked candour" in his dealings with it. Moreover, the commission intended holding De Klerk "morally accountable for concealing the truth from the country when he, as executive head of government, was under an obligation not to do so".
The harsh preliminary judgment reached by the commission was sent to De Klerk on September 1 for his response, as required by law.
De Klerk contested the intended findings bitterly, and on Wednesday brought an urgent legal action asking the Cape High Court to forbid the commission from making the intended findings against him, from including these findings in its report and from submitting the findings to President Nelson Mandela.
In terms of an agreement between the parties on Wednesday afternoon, which Judge EL King made an order of the court, the TRC made no findings on De Klerk in the final report. The dispute about the TRC's intended findings will be heard in the Cape High Court on March 4 next year.
The commission found that, despite telling the TRC that "neither he nor his colleagues in Cabinet and the state security council authorised or instructed the commission of unlawful acts", De Klerk "knew and had been informed by the former minister of law and order [Adriaan Vlok] and the former commissioner of police [General Johan van der Merwe] that the former state president P W Botha and the former minister of law and order had authorised the former commissioner of police to bomb Khotso House", the headquarters of the South African Council of Churches.
"The commission finds that the former state president De Klerk failed and lacked candour to the extent that he omitted to take the commission into his confidence and/or to inform the commission of what he knew despite being under a duty to do so," the TRC said in its notice to De Klerk on September 1.
"The commission finds that FW de Klerk failed to make full disclosure to the commission of gross human rights violations committed by senior members of government and senior members of the South African Police despite being given the opportunity to do so.
"The commission finds that his failure to do so constitutes a material non- disclosure, thus rendering him an accessory to the commission of gross human rights violations," the notice added.
"The commission finds further that Mr de Klerk was present at a meeting of the state security council where former state president PW Botha congratulated [Vlok] for the successful bombing of Khotso House.
"The commission finds that the failure of FW de Klerk to take legal action against minister Vlok and General Johan van der Merwe for the commission of unlawful acts when he was under a duty to do so contributed to creating a culture of impunity within which gross human rights violations were committed.
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