The Apartheid Museum describes itself
in its promotional brochure as ‘an unbiased and historically accurate
account of modern 20th century South Africa’. Yet it took an eagle eye
and five hours to find three slight references to Helen Suzman. One
appears on a text board, which most visitors to the museum appear not
to read, headed ‘White opposition to Apartheid’. Secondly, there is an
old Democratic Party poster with her picture on it, plastered close to
the floor. The third glimpse of her, in footage from the Codesa talks,
shows Suzman crossing the screen. All of these can be easily missed and
are not particularly meaningful anyway. Visitors to the museum will
learn little from them about the role Mrs Suzman played during
apartheid, and nothing at all about her political convictions or
ideology. It is not surprising that opinions differ about the amount of
space that should be accorded to Mrs Suzman and other liberals. But to
belittle her role almost to the point of exclusion is manipulative,
dangerous and ungrateful.
Those who claim that Helen Suzman is not represented in the Apartheid
Museum have simply not looked hard enough. She is there; it just took
an eagle eye and five hours to find her. In fact I found reference of
some sort to Suzman in three places (twice out the corner of my eye and
once while reading the fine print).
The Apartheid Museum is described, in its own promotional brochure, as
"an unbiased and historically accurate account of modern 20th Century
South Africa". It is an ambitious project. The various displays in the
museum, including artefacts, photographs, text, posters and a large
collection of video footage, aim to recount "the political upheavals
beginning in the last century and move to the transition from a racist
state into Africa's beacon of hope as the century turned again". Its
content is thus extensive, complex and provocative.
On my quest to find Helen Suzman, and to a lesser degree the
representation of liberal politics during apartheid, I conducted two
experiments. Firstly, I tried to forget for the afternoon that I was a
political scientist and copied the behaviour of the other visitors.
Most people skim - they do not spend much time reading the text boards
that outline the topic at hand, certainly not word-for-word, and, even
in the more passive experience of watching video footage of interviews
they do not wait around to see the whole reel. Most people, it seems,
prefer pictures and the more graphic, action-packed video foot-age that
resonates with the turbulence and cruelty of the time.
Secondly, I tried to weigh up how much recognition should be given to
Suzman. Given that her representation has to form part of an extensive
archive of material and issues spanning most of a century, and that her
contribution needs to be balanced against those of the myriad
organisations and personalities of the time, both those opposing and
those perpetuating apartheid - how much space should she occupy?
So where was Suzman hiding? Under the heading, "White opposition to
Apartheid" on a text board, that it appears most people do not read, it
states "White opposition to National Party rule took both parliamentary
and extra-parliamentary forms and became progressively more muted as
the 1950s drew on," and further "The Progressive Party proposed
multi-racial common franchise with legal, educational and wealth
qualifications. In the 1961 general elections, only Suzman retained her
seat and until 1974, she was the lone parliamentary voice of some
opposition." On the left of the board a silent video shows members of
the Black Sash and Torch Commandos demonstrating outside what looks
like parliament. For all I know they could have been demonstrating for
shopping on Sundays.
Secondly, there is an old Democratic Party poster, plastered close to
the floor on a wall covered with other political posters of the 1980s
and 1990s, with a picture of Suzman. And, the third glimpse was by
complete chance as Suzman crosses the screen in footage from the Codesa
talks. The only other references to liberal politics I spotted occur
again on video, as part of an interview with a black activist and as a
snippet from the anti-apartheid film "Come Back, Africa". On both
occasions liberals are presented as those nice white people that talk
about black freedom from the comfort of their plush homes. So there you
have it.
The limited opportunities given to the public to learn about the role
Suzman played during apartheid can be easily missed and on the whole
are not particularly meaningful anyway. Further, they suggest that
Suzman did less as opposition parties in parliament grew smaller, that
she did little outside of parliament, and do not explain the shift in
support for the opposition from the mid-1970s onwards. Additionally,
there is no reference to her political convictions or her ideology, so
fundamental to Suzman's contribution to the anti-apartheid
struggle.
But then maybe Suzman should count herself lucky, because, unless I am
mistaken there is no obvious reference to key figures like Oliver Tambo
or Beyers Naude. Nor is there any representation of the Inkatha Freedom
Party, either in its opposition role to the United Democratic Front or
in the political violence marking much of the 1980s and early
1990s.
While I do not want to fall into the trap of saying who deserves more
or less attention, concentration has been clearly focused on massive
resistance and the organisations and groups who formed part thereof.
And, this at the expense of explaining in detail how apartheid actually
worked, and, in my opinion, the contribution of liberals in general and
Helen Suzman in particular.
That distortions of history occur and interpretations differ is of
little surprise. But, belittled representation to the point of
exclusion is manipulative, dangerous, and devoid of appreciation of
individuals and small groups that made substantial contributions.