1918-2013
April 20, 1964
I am the First Accused.
I hold a Bachelor`s Degree in Arts and practised as an
attorney in Johannesburg for a number of years in partnership with Oliver
Tambo. I am a convicted prisoner serving five years for leaving the country
without a permit and for inciting people to go on strike at the end of May
1961.
At the outset, I want to say that the suggestion made by the
State in its opening that the struggle in South Africa is under the influence
of foreigners or communists is wholly incorrect. I have done whatever I did,
both as an individual and as a leader of my people, because of my experience in
South Africa and my own proudly felt African background, and not because of
what any outsider might have said.
In my youth in the Transkei I listened to the elders of my
tribe telling stories of the old days. Amongst the tales they related to me
were those of wars fought by our ancestors in defence of the fatherland. The
names of Dingane and Bambata, Hintsa and Makana, Squngthi and Dalasile,
Moshoeshoe and Sekhukhuni, were praised as the glory of the entire African
nation. I hoped then that life might offer me the opportunity to serve my
people and make my own humble contribution to their freedom struggle. This is
what has motivated me in all that I have done in relation to the charges made
against me in this case.
Having said this, I must deal immediately and at some length
with the question of violence. Some of the things so far told to the Court are
true and some are untrue. I do not, however, deny that I planned sabotage. I
did not plan it in a spirit of recklessness, nor because I have any love of
violence. I planned it as a result of a calm and sober assessment of the
political situation that had arisen after many years of tyranny, exploitation,
and oppression of my people by the Whites.
I admit immediately that I was one of the persons who helped
to form Umkhonto we Sizwe, and that I played a prominent role in its affairs
until I was arrested in August 1962.
In the statement which I am about to make I shall correct
certain false impressions which have been created by State witnesses. Amongst
other things, I will demonstrate that certain of the acts referred to in the
evidence were not and could not have been committed by Umkhonto. I will also
deal with the relationship between the African National Congress and Umkhonto,
and with the part which I personally have played in the affairs of both
organizations. I shall deal also with the part played by the Communist Party.
In order to explain these matters properly, I will have to explain what
Umkhonto set out to achieve; what methods it prescribed for the achievement of
these objects, and why these methods were chosen. I will also have to explain
how I became involved in the activities of these organizations.
I deny that Umkhonto was responsible for a number of acts
which clearly fell outside the policy of the organisation, and which have been
charged in the indictment against us. I do not know what justification there
was for these acts, but to demonstrate that they could not have been authorized
by Umkhonto, I want to refer briefly to the roots and policy of the
organization.
I have already mentioned that I was one of the persons who
helped to form Umkhonto. I, and the others who started the organization, did so
for two reasons. Firstly, we believed that as a result of Government policy,
violence by the African people had become inevitable, and that unless
responsible leadership was given to canalize and control the feelings of our
people, there would be outbreaks of terrorism which would produce an intensity
of bitterness and hostility between the various races of this country which is
not produced even by war. Secondly, we felt that without violence there would
be no way open to the African people to succeed in their struggle against the
principle of white supremacy. All lawful modes of expressing opposition to this
principle had been closed by legislation, and we were placed in a position in
which we had either to accept a permanent state of inferiority, or to defy the
Government. We chose to defy the law. We first broke the law in a way which
avoided any recourse to violence; when this form was legislated against, and
then the Government resorted to a show of force to crush opposition to its
policies, only then did we decide to answer violence with violence.
But the violence which we chose to adopt was not terrorism.
We who formed Umkhonto were all members of the African National Congress, and
had behind us the ANC tradition of non-violence and negotiation as a means of
solving political disputes. We believe that South Africa belongs to all the
people who live in it, and not to one group, be it black or white. We did not
want an interracial war, and tried to avoid it to the last minute. If the Court
is in doubt about this, it will be seen that the whole history of our
organization bears out what I have said, and what I will subsequently say, when
I describe the tactics which Umkhonto decided to adopt. I want, therefore, to
say something about the African National Congress.
The African National Congress was formed in 1912 to defend
the rights of the African people which had been seriously curtailed by the
South Africa Act, and which were then being threatened by the Native Land Act.
For thirty-seven years - that is until 1949 - it adhered strictly to a
constitutional struggle. It put forward demands and resolutions; it sent
delegations to the Government in the belief that African grievances could be
settled through peaceful discussion and that Africans could advance gradually
to full political rights. But White Governments remained unmoved, and the
rights of Africans became less instead of becoming greater. In the words of my
leader, Chief Lutuli, who became President of the ANC in 1952, and who was
later awarded the Nobel Peace Prize:
"who will deny that thirty years of my life have been
spent knocking in vain, patiently, moderately, and modestly at a closed and
barred door? What have been the fruits of moderation? The past thirty years
have seen the greatest number of laws restricting our rights and progress,
until today we have reached a stage where we have almost no rights at
all".
Even after 1949, the ANC remained determined to avoid
violence. At this time, however, there was a change from the strictly
constitutional means of protest which had been employed in the past. The change
was embodied in a decision which was taken to protest against apartheid
legislation by peaceful, but unlawful, demonstrations against certain laws.
Pursuant to this policy the ANC launched the Defiance Campaign, in which I was
placed in charge of volunteers. This campaign was based on the principles of
passive resistance. More than 8,500 people defied apartheid laws and went to
jail. Yet there was not a single instance of violence in the course of this
campaign on the part of any defier. I and nineteen colleagues were convicted
for the role which we played in organizing the campaign, but our sentences were
suspended mainly because the Judge found that discipline and non-violence had
been stressed throughout. This was the time when the volunteer section of the
ANC was established, and when the word `Amadelakufa` was first used: this was
the time when the volunteers were asked to take a pledge to uphold certain
principles. Evidence dealing with volunteers and their pledges has been
introduced into this case, but completely out of context. The volunteers were
not, and are not, the soldiers of a black army pledged to fight a civil war
against the whites. They were, and are. dedicated workers who are prepared to
lead campaigns initiated by the ANC to distribute leaflets, to organize
strikes, or do whatever the particular campaign required. They are called
volunteers because they volunteer to face the penalties of imprisonment and
whipping which are now prescribed by the legislature for such acts.
During the Defiance Campaign, the Public Safety Act and the
Criminal Law Amendment Act were passed. These Statutes provided harsher
penalties for offences committed by way of protests against laws. Despite this,
the protests continued and the ANC adhered to its policy of non-violence. In
1956, 156 leading members of the Congress Alliance, including myself, were
arrested on a charge of high treason and charges under the Suppression of
Communism Act. The non-violent policy of the ANC was put in issue by the State,
but when the Court gave judgement some five years later, it found that the ANC
did not have a policy of violence. We were acquitted on all counts, which
included a count that the ANC sought to set up a communist state in place of
the existing regime. The Government has always sought to label all its
opponents as communists. This allegation has been repeated in the present case,
but as I will show, the ANC is not, and never has been, a communist
organization.
In 1960 there was the shooting at Sharpeville, which
resulted in the proclamation of a state of emergency and the declaration of the
ANC as an unlawful organization. My colleagues and I, after careful
consideration, decided that we would not obey this decree. The African people
were not part of the Government and did not make the laws by which they were
governed. We believed in the words of the Universal Declaration of Human
Rights, that `the will of the people shall be the basis of authority of the
Government`, and for us to accept the banning was equivalent to accepting the
silencing of the Africans for all time. The ANC refused to dissolve, but
instead went underground. We believed it was our duty to preserve this
organization which had been built up with almost fifty years of unremitting
toil. I have no doubt that no self-respecting White political organization
would disband itself if declared illegal by a government in which it had no
say.
In 1960 the Government held a referendum which led to the
establishment of the Republic. Africans, who constituted approximately 70 per
cent of the population of South Africa, were not entitled to vote, and were not
even consulted about the proposed constitutional change. All of us were
apprehensive of our future under the proposed White Republic, and a resolution
was taken to hold an All-In African Conference to call for a National
Convention, and to organize mass demonstrations on the eve of the unwanted Republic,
if the Government failed to call the Convention. The conference was attended by
Africans of various political persuasions. I was the Secretary of the
conference and undertook to be responsible for organizing the national
stay-at-home which was subsequently called to coincide with the declaration of
the Republic. As all strikes by Africans are illegal, the person organizing
such a strike must avoid arrest. I was chosen to be this person, and
consequently I had to leave my home and family and my practice and go into
hiding to avoid arrest.
The stay-at-home, in accordance with ANC policy, was to be a
peaceful demonstration. Careful instructions were given to organizers and
members to avoid any recourse to violence. The Government`s answer was to introduce
new and harsher laws, to mobilize its armed forces, and to send Saracens, armed
vehicles, and soldiers into the townships in a massive show of force designed
to intimidate the people. This was an indication that the Government had
decided to rule by force alone, and this decision was a milestone on the road
to Umkhonto.
Some of this may appear irrelevant to this trial. In fact, I
believe none of it is irrelevant because it will, I hope, enable the Court to
appreciate the attitude eventually adopted by the various persons and bodies
concerned in the National Liberation Movement. When I went to jail in 1962, the
dominant idea was that loss of life should be avoided. I now know that this was
still so in 1963.
I must return to June 1961. What were we, the leaders of our
people, to do? Were we to give in to the show of force and the implied threat
against future action, or were we to fight it and, if so, how?
We had no doubt that we had to continue the fight. Anything
else would have been abject surrender. Our problem was not whether to fight,
but was how to continue the fight. We of the ANC had always stood for a
non-racial democracy, and we shrank from any action which might drive the races
further apart than they already were. But the hard facts were that fifty years
of non-violence had brought the African people nothing but more and more
repressive legislation, and fewer and fewer rights. It may not be easy for this
Court to understand, but it is a fact that for a long time the people had been
talking of violence - of the day when they would fight the White man and win
back their country - and we, the leaders of the ANC, had nevertheless always
prevailed upon them to avoid violence and to pursue peaceful methods. When some
of us discussed this in May and June of 1961, it could not be denied that our
policy to achieve a nonracial State by non-violence had achieved nothing, and
that our followers were beginning to lose confidence in this policy and were
developing disturbing ideas of terrorism.
It must not be forgotten that by this time violence had, in
fact, become a feature of the South African political scene. There had been
violence in 1957 when the women of Zeerust were ordered to carry passes; there
was violence in 1958 with the enforcement of cattle culling in Sekhukhuniland;
there was violence in 1959 when the people of Cato Manor protested against pass
raids; there was violence in 1960 when the Government attempted to impose Bantu
Authorities in Pondoland. Thirty-nine Africans died in these disturbances. In
1961 there had been riots in Warmbaths, and all this time the Transkei had been
a seething mass of unrest. Each disturbance pointed clearly to the inevitable
growth among Africans of the belief that violence was the only way out - it
showed that a Government which uses force to maintain its rule teaches the
oppressed to use force to oppose it. Already small groups had arisen in the
urban areas and were spontaneously making plans for violent forms of political
struggle. There now arose a danger that these groups would adopt terrorism
against Africans, as well as Whites, if not properly directed. Particularly
disturbing was the type of violence engendered in places such as Zeerust,
Sekhukhuniland, and Pondoland amongst Africans. It was increasingly taking the
form, not of struggle against the Government - though this is what prompted it
-but of civil strife amongst themselves, conducted in such a way that it could
not hope to achieve anything other than a loss of life and bitterness.
At the beginning of June 1961, after a long and anxious
assessment of the South African situation, I, and some colleagues, came to the
conclusion that as violence in this country was inevitable, it would be
unrealistic and wrong for African leaders to continue preaching peace and
non-violence at a time when the Government met our peaceful demands with force.
This conclusion was not easily arrived at. It was only when
all else had failed, when all channels of peaceful protest had been barred to
us, that the decision was made to embark on violent forms of political
struggle, and to form Umkhonto we Sizwe. We did so not because we desired such
a course, but solely because the Government had left us with no other choice.
In the Manifesto of Umkhonto published on 16 December 1961, which is Exhibit
AD, we said:
"The time comes in the life of any nation when there
remain only two choices - submit or fight. That time has now come to South
Africa. We shall not submit and we have no choice but to hit back by all means
in our power in defence of our people, our future, and our freedom".
This was our feeling in June of 1961 when we decided to
press for a change in the policy of the National Liberation Movement. I can
only say that I felt morally obliged to do what I did.
We who had taken this decision started to consult leaders of
various organizations, including the ANC. I will not say whom we spoke to, or
what they said, but I wish to deal with the role of the African National
Congress in this phase of the struggle, and with the policy and objectives of
Umkhonto we Sizwe.
As far as the ANC was concerned, it formed a clear view
which can be summarized as follows:
It was a mass political organization with a political
function to fulfil. Its members had joined on the express policy of non-violence.
Because of all this, it could not and would not undertake
violence. This must be stressed. One cannot turn such a body into the small,
closely knit organization required for sabotage. Nor would this be politically
correct, because it would result in members ceasing to carry out this essential
activity: political propaganda and organization. Nor was it permissible to
change the whole nature of the organization.
On the other hand, in view of this situation I have
described, the ANC was prepared to depart from its fifty-year-old policy of
non-violence to this extent that it would no longer disapprove of properly
controlled violence. Hence members who undertook such activity would not be
subject to disciplinary action by the ANC.
I say `properly controlled violence` because I made it clear
that if I formed the organization I would at all times subject it to the
political guidance of the ANC and would not undertake any different form of
activity from that contemplated without the consent of the ANC. And I shall now
tell the Court how that form of violence came to be determined.
As a result of this decision, Umkhonto was formed in
November 1961. When we took this decision, and subsequently formulated our
plans, the ANC heritage of non-violence and racial harmony was very much with
us. We felt that the country was drifting towards a civil war in which Blacks
and Whites would fight each other. We viewed the situation with alarm. Civil
war could mean the destruction of what the ANC stood for; with civil war,
racial peace would be more difficult than ever to achieve. We already have examples
in South African history of the results of war. It has taken more than fifty
years for the scars of the South African War to disappear. How much longer
would it take to eradicate the scars of inter-racial civil war, which could not
be fought without a great loss of life on both sides?
The avoidance of civil war had dominated our thinking for
many years, but when we decided to adopt violence as part of our policy, we
realized that we might one day have to face the prospect of such a war. This
had to be taken into account in formulating our plans. We required a plan which
was flexible and which permitted us to act in accordance with the needs of the
times; above all, the plan had to be one which recognized civil war as the last
resort, and left the decision on this question to the future. We did not want
to be committed to civil war, but we wanted to be ready if it became
inevitable.
Four forms of violence were possible. There is sabotage,
there is guerrilla warfare, there is terrorism, and there is open revolution.
We chose to adopt the first method and to exhaust it before taking any other
decision.
In the light of our political background the choice was a
logical one. Sabotage did not involve loss of life, and it offered the best
hope for future race relations. Bitterness would be kept to a minimum and, if
the policy bore fruit, democratic government could become a reality. This is
what we felt at the time, and this is what we said in our Manifesto (Exhibit
AD):
"We of Umkhonto we Sizwe have always sought to achieve
liberation without bloodshed and civil clash. We hope, even at this late hour,
that our first actions will awaken everyone to a realization of the disastrous
situation to which the Nationalist policy is leading. We hope that we will bring
the Government and its supporters to their senses before it is too late, so
that both the Government and its policies can be changed before matters reach
the desperate state of civil war."
The initial plan was based on a careful analysis of the
political and economic situation of our country. We believed that South Africa
depended to a large extent on foreign capital and foreign trade. We felt that
planned destruction of power plants, and interference with rail and telephone
communications, would tend to scare away capital from the country, make it more
difficult for goods from the industrial areas to reach the seaports on
schedule, and would in the long run be a heavy drain on the economic life of
the country, thus compelling the voters of the country to reconsider their
position.
Attacks on the economic life lines of the country were to be
linked with sabotage on Government buildings and other symbols of apartheid.
These attacks would serve as a source of inspiration to our people. In
addition, they would provide an outlet for those people who were urging the
adoption of violent methods and would enable us to give concrete proof to our
followers that we had adopted a stronger line and were fighting back against
Government violence.
In addition, if mass action were successfully organized, and
mass reprisals taken, we felt that sympathy for our cause would be roused in
other countries, and that greater pressure would be brought to bear on the
South African Government.
This then was the plan. Umkhonto was to perform sabotage,
and strict instructions were given to its members right from the start, that on
no account were they to injure or kill people in planning or carrying out
operations. These instructions have been referred to in the evidence of `Mr. X`
and `Mr. Z`.
The affairs of the Umkhonto were controlled and directed by
a National High Command, which had powers of co-option and which could, and
did, appoint Regional Commands. The High Command was the body which determined
tactics and targets and was in charge of training and finance. Under the High
Command there were Regional Commands which were responsible for the direction
of the local sabotage groups. Within the framework of the policy laid down by
the National High Command, the Regional Commands had authority to select the
targets to be attacked. They had no authority to go beyond the prescribed
framework and thus had no authority to embark upon acts which endangered life,
or which did not fit into the overall plan of sabotage. For instance, Umkhonto
members were forbidden ever to go armed into operation. Incidentally, the terms
High Command and Regional Command were an importation from the Jewish national
underground organization Irgun Zvai Leumi, which operated in Israel between
1944 and 1948.
Umkhonto had its first operation on 16 December 1961, when
Government buildings in Johannesburg, Port Elizabeth and Durban were attacked.
The selection of targets is proof of the policy to which I have referred. Had
we intended to attack life we would have selected targets where people
congregated and not empty buildings and power stations. The sabotage which was
committed before 16 December 1961 was the work of isolated groups and had no
connection whatever with Umkhonto. In fact, some of these and a number of later
acts were claimed by other organizations.
The Manifesto of Umkhonto was issued on the day that
operations commenced. The response to our actions and Manifesto among the white
population was characteristically violent. The Government threatened to take
strong action, and called upon its supporters to stand firm and to ignore the
demands of the Africans. The Whites failed to respond by suggesting change;
they responded to our call by suggesting the laager.
In contrast, the response of the Africans was one of
encouragement. Suddenly there was hope again. Things were happening. People in
the townships became eager for political news. A great deal of enthusiasm was
generated by the initial successes, and people began to speculate on how soon
freedom would be obtained.
But we in Umkhonto weighed up the white response with
anxiety. The lines were being drawn. The whites and blacks were moving into
separate camps, and the prospects of avoiding a civil war were made less. The
white newspapers carried reports that sabotage would be punished by death. If
this was so, how could we continue to keep Africans away from terrorism?
Already scores of Africans had died as a result of racial
friction. In 1920 when the famous leader, Masabala, was held in Port Elizabeth
jail, twenty-four of a group of Africans who had gathered to demand his release
were killed by the police and white civilians. In 1921, more than one hundred
Africans died in the Bulhoek affair. In 1924 over two hundred Africans were
killed when the Administrator of South-West Africa led a force against a group
which had rebelled against the imposition of dog tax. On 1 May 1950, eighteen
Africans died as a result of police shootings during the strike. On 21 March
1960, sixty-nine unarmed Africans died at Sharpeville.
How many more Sharpevilles would there be in the history of
our country? And how many more Sharpevilles could the country stand without
violence and terror becoming the order of the day? And what would happen to our
people when that stage was reached? In the long run we felt certain we must
succeed, but at what cost to ourselves and the rest of the country? And if this
happened, how could black and white ever live together again in peace and
harmony? These were the problems that faced us, and these were our decisions.
Experience convinced us that rebellion would offer the
Government limitless opportunities for the indiscriminate slaughter of our
people. But it was precisely because the soil of South Africa is already
drenched with the blood of innocent Africans that we felt it our duty to make
preparations as a long-term undertaking to use force in order to defend
ourselves against force. If war were inevitable, we wanted the fight to be
conducted on terms most favourable to our people. The fight which held out
prospects best for us and the least risk of life to both sides was guerrilla
warfare. We decided, therefore, in our preparations for the future, to make
provision for the possibility of guerrilla warfare.
All whites undergo compulsory military training, but no such
training was given to Africans. It was in our view essential to build up a
nucleus of trained men who would be able to provide the leadership which would
be required if guerrilla warfare started. We had to prepare for such a
situation before it became too late to make proper preparations. It was also
necessary to build up a nucleus of men trained in civil administration and
other professions, so that Africans would be equipped to participate in the
government of this country as soon as they were allowed to do so.
At this stage it was decided that I should attend the
Conference of the Pan-African Freedom Movement for Central, East, and Southern
Africa, which was to be held early in 1962 in Addis Ababa, and, because of our
need for preparation, it was also decided that, after the conference, I would
undertake a tour of the African States with a view to obtaining facilities for
the training of soldiers, and that I would also solicit scholarships for the
higher education of matriculated Africans. Training in both fields would be
necessary, even if changes came about by peaceful means. Administrators would
be necessary who would be willing and able to administer a non-racial State and
so would men be necessary to control the army and police force of such a State.
It was on this note that I left South Africa to proceed to
Addis Ababa as a delegate of the ANC. My tour was a success. Wherever I went I
met sympathy for our cause and promises of help. All Africa was united against
the stand of White South Africa, and even in London I was received with great
sympathy by political leaders, such as Mr. Gaitskell and Mr. Grimond. In Africa
I was promised support by such men as Julius Nyerere, now President of
Tanganyika; Mr. Kawawa, then Prime Minister of Tanganyika; Emperor Haile
Selassie of Ethiopia; General Abboud, President of the Sudan; Habib Bourguiba,
President of Tunisia; Ben Bella, now President of Algeria; Modibo Keita,
President of Mali; Leopold Senghor, President of Senegal; Sekou Toure, President
of Guinea; President Tubman of Liberia; and Milton Obote, Prime Minister of
Uganda. It was Ben Bella who invited me to visit Oujda, the Headquarters of the
Algerian Army of National Liberation, the visit which is described in my diary,
one of the Exhibits.
I started to make a study of the art of war and revolution
and, whilst abroad, underwent a course in military training. If there was to be
guerrilla warfare, I wanted to be able to stand and fight with my people and to
share the hazards of war with them. Notes of lectures which I received in
Algeria are contained in Exhibit 16, produced in evidence. Summaries of books
on guerrilla warfare and military strategy have also been produced. I have
already admitted that these documents are in my writing, and I acknowledge that
I made these studies to equip myself for the role which I might have to play if
the struggle drifted into guerrilla warfare. I approached this question as
every African Nationalist should do. I was completely objective. The Court will
see that I attempted to examine all types of authority on the subject - from
the East and from the West, going back to the classic work of Clausewitz, and
covering such a variety as Mao Tse Tung and Che Guevara on the one hand, and
the writings on the Anglo-Boer War on the other. Of course, these notes are
merely summaries of the books I read and do not contain my personal views.
I also made arrangements for our recruits to undergo
military training. But here it was impossible to organize any scheme without
the co-operation of the ANC offices in Africa. I consequently obtained the
permission of the ANC in South Africa to do this. To this extent then there was
a departure from the original decision of the ANC, but it applied outside South
Africa only. The first batch of recruits actually arrived in Tanganyika when I
was passing through that country on my way back to South Africa.
I returned to South Africa and reported to my colleagues on
the results of my trip. On my return I found that there had been little alteration
in the political scene save that the threat of a death penalty for sabotage had
now become a fact. The attitude of my colleagues in Umkhonto was much the same
as it had been before I left. They were feeling their way cautiously and felt
that it would be a long time before the possibilities of sabotage were
exhausted. In fact, the view was expressed by some that the training of
recruits was premature. This is recorded by me in the document which is Exhibit
R.14. After a full discussion, however, it was decided to go ahead with the
plans for military training because of the fact that it would take many years
to build up a sufficient nucleus of trained soldiers to start a guerrilla
campaign, and whatever happened the training would be of value.
I wish to turn now to certain general allegations made in
this case by the State. But before doing so, I wish to revert to certain
occurrences said by witnesses to have happened in Port Elizabeth and East
London. I am referring to the bombing of private houses of pro-Government
persons during September, October and November 1962. I do not know what
justification there was for these acts, nor what provocation had been given.
But if what I have said already is accepted, then it is clear that these acts
had nothing to do with the carrying out of the policy of Umkhonto.
One of the chief allegations in the indictment is that the
ANC was a party to a general conspiracy to commit sabotage. I have already
explained why this is incorrect but how, externally, there was a departure from
the original principle laid down by the ANC. There has, of course, been
overlapping of functions internally as well, because there is a difference
between a resolution adopted in the atmosphere of a committee room and the
concrete difficulties that arise in the field of practical activity. At a later
stage the position was further affected by bannings and house arrests, and by
persons leaving the country to take up political work abroad. This led to
individuals having to do work in different capacities. But though this may have
blurred the distinction between Umkhonto and the ANC, it by no means abolished
that distinction. Great care was taken to keep the activities of the two
organizations in South Africa distinct. The ANC remained a mass political body
of Africans only carrying on the type of political work they had conducted
prior to 1961. Umkhonto remained a small organization recruiting its members
from different races and organizations and trying to achieve its own particular
object. The fact that members of Umkhonto were recruited from the ANC, and the
fact that persons served both organizations, like Solomon Mbanjwa, did not, in
our view, change the nature of the ANC or give it a policy of violence. This
overlapping of officers, however, was more the exception than the rule. This is
why persons such as `Mr. X` and `Mr. Z`, who were on the Regional Command of
their respective areas, did not participate in any of the ANC committees or
activities, and why people such as Mr. Bennett Mashiyana and Mr. Reginald Ndubi
did not hear of sabotage at their ANC meetings.
Another of the allegations in the indictment is that Rivonia
was the headquarters of Umkhonto. This is not true of the time when I was
there. I was told, of course, and knew that certain of the activities of the
Communist Party were carried on there. But this is no reason (as I shall
presently explain) why I should not use the place.
I came there in the following manner:
As already indicated, early in April 1961 I went underground
to organize the May general strike. My work entailed travelling throughout the
country, living now in African townships, then in country villages and again in
cities.
During the second half of the year I started visiting the
Parktown home of Arthur Goldreich, where I used to meet my family privately.
Although I had no direct political association with him, I had known Arthur
Goldreich socially since 1958.
In October, Arthur Goldreich informed me that he was moving
out of town and offered me a hiding place there. A few days thereafter, he
arranged for Michael Harmel to take me to Rivonia. I naturally found Rivonia an
ideal place for the man who lived the life of an outlaw. Up to that time I had
been compelled to live indoors during the daytime and could only venture out
under cover of darkness. But at Liliesleaf [farm, Rivonia,] I could live
differently and work far more efficiently.
For obvious reasons, I had to disguise myself and I assumed
the fictitious name of David. In December, Arthur Goldreich and his family
moved in. I stayed there until I went abroad on 11 January 1962. As already
indicated, I returned in July 1962 and was arrested in Natal on 5 August.
Up to the time of my arrest, Liliesleaf farm was the
headquarters of neither the African National Congress nor Umkhonto. With the
exception of myself, none of the officials or members of these bodies lived
there, no meetings of the governing bodies were ever held there, and no
activities connected with them were either organized or directed from there. On
numerous occasions during my stay at Liliesleaf farm I met both the Executive
Committee of the ANC, as well as the NHC, but such meetings were held elsewhere
and not on the farm.
Whilst staying at Liliesleaf farm, I frequently visited
Arthur Goldreich in the main house and he also paid me visits in my room. We
had numerous political discussions covering a variety of subjects. We discussed
ideological and practical questions, the Congress Alliance, Umkhonto and its
activities generally, and his experiences as a soldier in the Palmach, the
military wing of the Haganah. Haganah was the political authority of the Jewish
National Movement in Palestine.
Because of what I had got to know of Goldreich, I
recommended on my return to South Africa that he should be recruited to
Umkhonto. I do not know of my personal knowledge whether this was done.
Another of the allegations made by the State is that the
aims and objects of the ANC and the Communist Party are the same. I wish to
deal with this and with my own political position, because I must assume that
the State may try to argue from certain Exhibits that I tried to introduce
Marxism into the ANC. The allegation as to the ANC is false. This is an old
allegation which was disproved at the Treason Trial and which has again reared
its head. But since the allegation has been made again, I shall deal with it as
well as with the relationship between the ANC and the Communist Party and
Umkhonto and that party.
The ideological creed of the ANC is, and always has been,
the creed of African Nationalism. It is not the concept of African Nationalism
expressed in the cry, `Drive the White man into the sea`. The African
Nationalism for which the ANC stands is the concept of freedom and fulfilment
for the African people in their own land. The most important political document
ever adopted by the ANC is the `Freedom Charter`. It is by no means a blueprint
for a socialist state. It calls for redistribution, but not nationalization, of
land; it provides for nationalization of mines, banks, and monopoly industry,
because big monopolies are owned by one race only, and without such
nationalization racial domination would be perpetuated despite the spread of
political power. It would be a hollow gesture to repeal the Gold Law
prohibitions against Africans when all gold mines are owned by European
companies. In this respect the ANC`s policy corresponds with the old policy of
the present Nationalist Party which, for many years, had as part of its
programme the nationalization of the gold mines which, at that time, were
controlled by foreign capital. Under the Freedom Charter, nationalization would
take place in an economy based on private enterprise. The realization of the
Freedom Charter would open up fresh fields for a prosperous African population
of all classes, including the middle class. The ANC has never at any period of
its history advocated a revolutionary change in the economic structure of the
country, nor has it, to the best of my recollection, ever condemned capitalist
society.
As far as the Communist Party is concerned, and if I
understand its policy correctly, it stands for the establishment of a State based
on the principles of Marxism. Although it is prepared to work for the Freedom
Charter, as a short term solution to the problems created by white supremacy,
it regards the Freedom Charter as the beginning, and not the end, of its
programme.
The ANC, unlike the Communist Party, admitted Africans only
as members. Its chief goal was, and is, for the African people to win unity and
full political rights. The Communist Party`s main aim, on the other hand, was
to remove the capitalists and to replace them with a working-class government.
The Communist Party sought to emphasize class distinctions whilst the ANC seeks
to harmonize them. This is a vital distinction.
It is true that there has often been close co-operation
between the ANC and the Communist Party. But co-operation is merely proof of a
common goal - in this case the removal of white supremacy - and is not proof of
a complete community of interests.
The history of the world is full of similar examples.
Perhaps the most striking illustration is to be found in the co-operation
between Great Britain, the United States of America, and the Soviet Union in
the fight against Hitler. Nobody but Hitler would have dared to suggest that
such co-operation turned Churchill or Roosevelt into communists or communist
tools, or that Britain and America were working to bring about a communist
world.
Another instance of such co-operation is to be found
precisely in Umkhonto. Shortly after Umkhonto was constituted, I was informed
by some of its members that the Communist Party would support Umkhonto, and
this then occurred. At a later stage the support was made openly.
I believe that communists have always played an active role
in the fight by colonial countries for their freedom, because the short-term
objects of communism would always correspond with the long-term objects of
freedom movements. Thus communists have played an important role in the freedom
struggles fought in countries such as Malaya, Algeria, and Indonesia, yet none
of these States today are communist countries. Similarly in the underground
resistance movements which sprung up in Europe during the last World War,
communists played an important role. Even General Chiang Kai-Shek, today one of
the bitterest enemies of communism, fought together with the communists against
the ruling class in the struggle which led to his assumption of power in China
in the 1930s.
This pattern of co-operation between communists and
non-communists has been repeated in the National Liberation Movement of South
Africa. Prior to the banning of the Communist Party, joint campaigns involving
the Communist Party and the Congress movements were accepted practice. African
communists could, and did, become members of the ANC, and some served on the
National, Provincial, and local committees. Amongst those who served on the
National Executive are Albert Nzula, a former Secretary of the Communist Party,
Moses Kotane, another former Secretary, and J. B. Marks, a former member of the
Central Committee.
I joined the ANC in 1944, and in my younger days I held the
view that the policy of admitting communists to the ANC, and the close
co-operation which existed at times on specific issues between the ANC and the
Communist Party, would lead to a watering down of the concept of African
Nationalism. At that stage I was a member of the African National Congress
Youth League, and was one of a group which moved for the expulsion of
communists from the ANC. This proposal was heavily defeated. Amongst those who
voted against the proposal were some of the most conservative sections of
African political opinion. They defended the policy on the ground that from its
inception the ANC was formed and built up, not as a political party with one
school of political thought, but as a Parliament of the African people,
accommodating people of various political convictions, all united by the common
goal of national liberation. I was eventually won over to this point of view
and I have upheld it ever since.
It is perhaps difficult for white South Africans, with an ingrained
prejudice against communism, to understand why experienced African politicians
so readily accept communists as their friends. But to us the reason is obvious.
Theoretical differences amongst those fighting against oppression is a luxury
we cannot afford at this stage. What is more, for many decades communists were
the only political group in South Africa who were prepared to treat Africans as
human beings and their equals; who were prepared to eat with us; talk with us,
live with us, and work with us. They were the only political group which was
prepared to work with the Africans for the attainment of political rights and a
stake in society. Because of this, there are many Africans who, today, tend to
equate freedom with communism. They are supported in this belief by a
legislature which brands all exponents of democratic government and African
freedom as communists and bans many of them (who are not communists) under the
Suppression of Communism Act. Although I have never been a member of the Communist
Party, I myself have been named under that pernicious Act because of the role I
played in the Defiance Campaign. I have also been banned and imprisoned under
that Act.
It is not only in internal politics that we count communists
as amongst those who support our cause. In the international field, communist
countries have always come to our aid. In the United Nations and other Councils
of the world the communist bloc has supported the Afro-Asian struggle against
colonialism and often seems to be more sympathetic to our plight than some of
the Western powers. Although there is a universal condemnation of apartheid,
the communist bloc speaks out against it with a louder voice than most of the
white world. In these circumstances, it would take a brash young politician,
such as I was in 1949, to proclaim that the Communists are our enemies.
I turn now to my own position. I have denied that I am a
communist, and I think that in the circumstances I am obliged to state exactly
what my political beliefs are.
I have always regarded myself, in the first place, as an
African patriot. After all, I was born in Umtata, forty-six years ago. My
guardian was my cousin, who was the acting paramount chief of Tembuland, and I
am related both to the present paramount chief of Tembuland, Sabata Dalindyebo,
and to Kaizer Matanzima, the Chief Minister of the Transkei.
Today I am attracted by the idea of a classless society, an
attraction which springs in part from Marxist reading and, in part, from my
admiration of the structure and organization of early African societies in this
country. The land, then the main means of production, belonged to the tribe.
There were no rich or poor and there was no exploitation.
It is true, as I have already stated, that I have been
influenced by Marxist thought. But this is also true of many of the leaders of
the new independent States. Such widely different persons as Gandhi, Nehru,
Nkrumah, and Nasser all acknowledge this fact. We all accept the need for some
form of socialism to enable our people to catch up with the advanced countries
of this world and to overcome their legacy of extreme poverty. But this does
not mean we are Marxists.
Indeed, for my own part, I believe that it is open to debate
whether the Communist Party has any specific role to play at this particular
stage of our political struggle. The basic task at the present moment is the
removal of race discrimination and the attainment of democratic rights on the
basis of the Freedom Charter. In so far as that Party furthers this task, I
welcome its assistance. I realize that it is one of the means by which people
of all races can be drawn into our struggle.
From my reading of Marxist literature and from conversations
with Marxists, I have gained the impression that communists regard the
parliamentary system of the West as undemocratic and reactionary. But, on the
contrary, I am an admirer of such a system.
The Magna Carta, the Petition of Rights, and the Bill of
Rights are documents which are held in veneration by democrats throughout the
world.
I have great respect for British political institutions, and
for the country`s system of justice. I regard the British Parliament as the
most democratic institution in the world, and the independence and impartiality
of its judiciary never fail to arouse my admiration.
The American Congress, that country`s doctrine of separation
of powers, as well as the independence of its judiciary, arouses in me similar
sentiments.
I have been influenced in my thinking by both West and East.
All this has led me to feel that in my search for a political formula, I should
be absolutely impartial and objective. I should tie myself to no particular
system of society other than of socialism. I must leave myself free to borrow
the best from the West and from the East . . .
There are certain Exhibits which suggest that we received
financial support from abroad, and I wish to deal with this question.
Our political struggle has always been financed from
internal sources - from funds raised by our own people and by our own
supporters. Whenever we had a special campaign or an important political case -
for example, the Treason Trial - we received financial assistance from
sympathetic individuals and organizations in the Western countries. We had
never felt it necessary to go beyond these sources.
But when in 1961 the Umkhonto was formed, and a new phase of
struggle introduced, we realized that these events would make a heavy call on
our slender resources, and that the scale of our activities would be hampered
by the lack of funds. One of my instructions, as I went abroad in January 1962,
was to raise funds from the African states.
I must add that, whilst abroad, I had discussions with
leaders of political movements in Africa and discovered that almost every single
one of them, in areas which had still not attained independence, had received
all forms of assistance from the socialist countries, as well as from the West,
including that of financial support. I also discovered that some well-known
African states, all of them non-communists, and even anti-communists, had
received similar assistance.
On my return to the Republic, I made a strong recommendation
to the ANC that we should not confine ourselves to Africa and the Western
countries, but that we should also send a mission to the socialist countries to
raise the funds which we so urgently needed.
I have been told that after I was convicted such a mission
was sent, but I am not prepared to name any countries to which it went, nor am
I at liberty to disclose the names of the organizations and countries which
gave us support or promised to do so.
As I understand the State case, and in particular the
evidence of `Mr. X`, the suggestion is that Umkhonto was the inspiration of the
Communist Party which sought by playing upon imaginary grievances to enrol the
African people into an army which ostensibly was to fight for African freedom,
but in reality was fighting for a communist state. Nothing could be further
from the truth. In fact the suggestion is preposterous. Umkhonto was formed by
Africans to further their struggle for freedom in their own land. Communists
and others supported the movement, and we only wish that more sections of the
community would join us.
Our fight is against real, and not imaginary, hardships or,
to use the language of the State Prosecutor, `so-called hardships`. Basically,
we fight against two features which are the hallmarks of African life in South
Africa and which are entrenched by legislation which we seek to have repealed.
These features are poverty and lack of human dignity, and we do not need
communists or so-called `agitators` to teach us about these things.
South Africa is the richest country in Africa, and could be
one of the richest countries in the world. But it is a land of extremes and
remarkable contrasts. The whites enjoy what may well be the highest standard of
living in the world, whilst Africans live in poverty and misery. Forty per cent
of the Africans live in hopelessly overcrowded and, in some cases,
drought-stricken Reserves, where soil erosion and the overworking of the soil
makes it impossible for them to live properly off the land. Thirty per cent are
labourers, labour tenants, and squatters on white farms and work and live under
conditions similar to those of the serfs of the Middle Ages. The other 30 per
cent live in towns where they have developed economic and social habits which
bring them closer in many respects to white standards. Yet most Africans, even
in this group, are impoverished by low incomes and high cost of living.
The highest-paid and the most prosperous section of urban
African life is in Johannesburg. Yet their actual position is desperate. The
latest figures were given on 25 March 1964 by Mr. Carr, Manager of the
Johannesburg Non-European Affairs Department. The poverty datum line for the
average African family in Johannesburg (according to Mr. Carr`s department) is
R42.84 per month. He showed that the average monthly wage is R32.24 and that 46
per cent of all African families in Johannesburg do not earn enough to keep
them going.
Poverty goes hand in hand with malnutrition and disease. The
incidence of malnutrition and deficiency diseases is very high amongst
Africans. Tuberculosis, pellagra, kwashiorkor, gastro-enteritis, and scurvy
bring death and destruction of health. The incidence of infant mortality is one
of the highest in the world. According to the Medical Officer of Health for
Pretoria, tuberculosis kills forty people a day (almost all Africans), and in
1961 there were 58,491 new cases reported. These diseases not only destroy the
vital organs of the body, but they result in retarded mental conditions and
lack of initiative, and reduce powers of concentration. The secondary results
of such conditions affect the whole community and the standard of work
performed by African labourers.
The complaint of Africans, however, is not only that they
are poor and the whites are rich, but that the laws which are made by the
whites are designed to preserve this situation. There are two ways to break out
of poverty. The first is by formal education, and the second is by the worker
acquiring a greater skill at his work and thus higher wages. As far as Africans
are concerned, both these avenues of advancement are deliberately curtailed by
legislation.
The present Government has always sought to hamper Africans
in their search for education. One of their early acts, after coming into
power, was to stop subsidies for African school feeding. Many African children
who attended schools depended on this supplement to their diet. This was a
cruel act.
There is compulsory education for all white children at
virtually no cost to their parents, be they rich or poor. Similar facilities
are not provided for the African children, though there are some who receive
such assistance. African children, however, generally have to pay more for
their schooling than whites. According to figures quoted by the South African
Institute of Race Relations in its 1963 journal, approximately 40 per cent of
African children in the age group between seven to fourteen do not attend
school. For those who do attend school, the standards are vastly different from
those afforded to white children. In 1960-61 the per capita Government spending
on African students at State-aided schools was estimated at R12.46. In the same
years, the per capita spending on white children in the Cape Province (which
are the only figures available to me) was R144.57. Although there are no
figures available to me, it can be stated, without doubt, that the white
children on whom R144.57 per head was being spent all came from wealthier homes
than African children on whom R12.46 per head was being spent.
The quality of education is also different. According to the
Bantu Educational Journal, only 5,660 African children in the whole of South
Africa passed their Junior Certificate in 1962, and in that year only 362
passed matric. This is presumably consistent with the policy of Bantu education
about which the present Prime Minister said, during the debate on the Bantu
Education Bill in 1953:
"When I have control of Native education I will reform
it so that Natives will be taught from childhood to realize that equality with
Europeans is not for them . . . People who believe in equality are not
desirable teachers for Natives. When my Department controls Native education it
will know for what class of higher education a Native is fitted, and whether he
will have a chance in life to use his knowledge."
The other main obstacle to the economic advancement of the
African is the industrial colour-bar under which all the better jobs of
industry are reserved for Whites only. Moreover, Africans who do obtain
employment in the unskilled and semi-skilled occupations which are open to them
are not allowed to form trade unions which have recognition under the
Industrial Conciliation Act. This means that strikes of African workers are
illegal, and that they are denied the right of collective bargaining which is
permitted to the better-paid White workers. The discrimination in the policy of
successive South African Governments towards African workers is demonstrated by
the so-called `civilized labour policy` under which sheltered, unskilled
Government jobs are found for those white workers who cannot make the grade in
industry, at wages which far exceed the earnings of the average African
employee in industry.
The Government often answers its critics by saying that
Africans in South Africa are economically better off than the inhabitants of
the other countries in Africa. I do not know whether this statement is true and
doubt whether any comparison can be made without having regard to the
cost-of-living index in such countries. But even if it is true, as far as the
African people are concerned it is irrelevant. Our complaint is not that we are
poor by comparison with people in other countries, but that we are poor by
comparison with the white people in our own country, and that we are prevented
by legislation from altering this imbalance.
The lack of human dignity experienced by Africans is the
direct result of the policy of white supremacy. White supremacy implies black
inferiority. Legislation designed to preserve white supremacy entrenches this
notion. Menial tasks in South Africa are invariably performed by Africans. When
anything has to be carried or cleaned the white man will look around for an
African to do it for him, whether the African is employed by him or not.
Because of this sort of attitude, whites tend to regard Africans as a separate
breed. They do not look upon them as people with families of their own; they do
not realize that they have emotions - that they fall in love like white people
do; that they want to be with their wives and children like white people want
to be with theirs; that they want to earn enough money to support their
families properly, to feed and clothe them and send them to school. And what
`house-boy` or `garden-boy` or labourer can ever hope to do this?
Pass laws, which to the Africans are among the most hated
bits of legislation in South Africa, render any African liable to police
surveillance at any time. I doubt whether there is a single African male in
South Africa who has not at some stage had a brush with the police over his
pass. Hundreds and thousands of Africans are thrown into jail each year under
pass laws. Even worse than this is the fact that pass laws keep husband and
wife apart and lead to the breakdown of family life.
Poverty and the breakdown of family life have secondary
effects. Children wander about the streets of the townships because they have
no schools to go to, or no money to enable them to go to school, or no parents
at home to see that they go to school, because both parents (if there be two)
have to work to keep the family alive. This leads to a breakdown in moral
standards, to an alarming rise in illegitimacy, and to growing violence which
erupts not only politically, but everywhere. Life in the townships is
dangerous. There is not a day that goes by without somebody being stabbed or
assaulted. And violence is carried out of the townships in the white living
areas. People are afraid to walk alone in the streets after dark.
Housebreakings and robberies are increasing, despite the fact that the death
sentence can now be imposed for such offences. Death sentences cannot cure the
festering sore.
Africans want to be paid a living wage. Africans want to
perform work which they are capable of doing, and not work which the Government
declares them to be capable o Africans want to be allowed to live where they
obtain work, and not be endorsed out of an area because they were not born
there. Africans want to be allowed to own land in places where they work, and
not to be obliged to live in rented houses which they can never call their own.
Africans want to be part of the general population, and not confined to living
in their own ghettoes. African men want to have their wives and children to
live with them where they work, and not be forced into an unnatural existence
in men`s hostels. African women want to be with their menfolk and not be left
permanently widowed in the Reserves. Africans want to be allowed out after
eleven o`clock at night and not to be confined to their rooms like little
children. Africans want to be allowed
to travel in their own country and to seek work where they
want to and not where the Labour Bureau tells them to. Africans want a just
share in the whole of South Africa; they want security and a stake in society.
Above all, we want equal political rights, because without
them our disabilities will be permanent. I know this sounds revolutionary to
the whites in this country, because the majority of voters will be Africans.
This makes the white man fear democracy.
But this fear cannot be allowed to stand in the way of the
only solution which will guarantee racial harmony and freedom for all. It is
not true that the enfranchisement of all will result in racial domination.
Political division, based on colour, is entirely artificial and, when it
disappears, so will the domination of one colour group by another. The ANC has
spent half a century fighting against racialism. When it triumphs it will not
change that policy.
This then is what the ANC is fighting. Their struggle is a
truly national one. It is a struggle of the African people, inspired by their
own suffering and their own experience. It is a struggle for the right to live.
During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to this struggle
of the African people. I have fought against white domination, and I have
fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and
free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal
opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if
needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.
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