Reneva Fourie
Oh, the dream of peace, reconciliation and nation-building evoked when Nelson Mandela exited the gates of Victor Verster Prison on 11 February 1990! The image of his raised fist, his unwavering dignity, and his heartfelt call for unity ignited a sense of hope in millions across South Africa and beyond.
Despite having just had surgery, no physical pain could stop me from being part of the hundreds of thousands who had gathered on Cape Town's Grand Parade. The experience was phenomenal. We were all eager to catch a glimpse of the iconic leader of South Africa's foremost liberation movement, the African National Congress.
Thirty-five years later, I grapple with a different discomfort – one that cuts deeper than any post-surgical wound. It is the pain of confronting the reality that in recent years our country has seen a rise in right-wing, reactionary movements that resemble elements of fascism.
Mandela's release was more than an event; it was the beginning of the long-overdue collapse of apartheid's brutal and repressive grip, and our journey towards racial reconciliation and mutual respect. His leadership and the transition to democracy were rooted in inclusivity and a commitment to healing a fractured nation.
His presidency was defined by remarkable efforts to bridge racial divides, notably through initiatives like the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and his bold embrace of the predominantly white national rugby team during the 1995 Rugby World Cup.
But the dream of unity and nation-building has, in many ways, remained just that – a dream. While political structures have changed, economic power and social attitudes have proven far more resistant to transformation.
For several conservative white South Africans, the end of apartheid was not met with a sense of shared national renewal but with resentment and fear. Instead of working toward an equitable future, some entrenched themselves in enclaves of privilege, unwilling to acknowledge their complicity in the past or their responsibility in shaping a new, just society.
Far-right groups are arguing that white South Africans are an embattled minority in a hostile political environment. This narrative is being used to foster a false notion of white South Africans as victims of reverse discrimination.
However, decades after apartheid officially ended, South Africa remains one of the most unequal societies in the world. The racial wealth gap is staggering – white South Africans, who constitute less than 10 per cent of the population, control a disproportionately large share of the country's wealth. Land ownership remains skewed, with black South Africans still dispossessed of the economic resource that was systematically stolen over centuries.
Beyond economic disparities, social and cultural prejudices persist. Black South Africans still face challenges in being recognised as capable, competent equals in certain professional and social environments.
Local right-wing movements are deliberately using the media – including social media – to spread misinformation, racist propaganda and conspiracy theories, making it harder to achieve national unity. Some have floated the idea of Afrikaner secession, with Orania serving as a prototype for an all-white enclave. Armed groups like the Suidlanders operate under a siege mentality, and it is not inconceivable that radical elements could resort to terrorism. They are even going out of their way to damage our international reputation.
Even within the so-called Rainbow Nation, it is clear that there are still white South Africans who cling to their inherited privilege, unwilling to engage in the difficult work of unlearning their ingrained biases. The land reform debate serves as a prime example of this pervasive phenomenon. Their rejection of true equality is not just a personal failing – it is a collective choice to uphold a system that continues to disadvantage black people.
The recent controversy involving South Africans misleading Donald Trump has unearthed old wounds, opening scars that emerged in our endeavours to heal from the trauma of apartheid. This is the betrayal that pains me today. It is not merely about the lingering prejudices of a few individuals; it is about the systemic refusal of an entire demographic to embrace equality and justice fully. The conservative white South Africans who resist change are actively undermining the country we fought to build.
What is most painful is that their betrayal is not just of me or of other progressive South Africans – it is a betrayal of South Africa as a whole. It is a betrayal of the vision Mandela stood for, the promise he made when he walked out of prison, and the sacrifices of countless activists who fought for a truly free and equal society. It is a betrayal of the possibility that we could be more than the sum of our history's injustices.
The consolidation of right-wing fascism in South Africa is a major problem. Their influence is expanding through racial polarisation and linking with international far-right networks, providing ammunition for those intent on advancing a counter-revolution. Addressing this challenge requires proactive governance, social cohesion initiatives, and firm action against hate speech and extremism. If left unchecked, right-wing fascism could destabilise South Africa, undermining the hard-won democratic gains of the past three decades.
The release of Nelson Mandela in 1990 was a moment of hope, a promise that South Africa could overcome its painful past and build a future based on equality and mutual respect. Thirty-five years later, that promise remains unfulfilled for many.
The betrayal of conservative white South Africans, who continue to resist the vision of a shared and equal society, is a source of deep pain. But it is also a call to action. The dream of a non-racial and non-sexist society is not dead; it is up to all of us to reclaim it. Only by confronting the past, addressing the present, and working together can we build a South Africa where everyone, regardless of race or gender, is genuinely equal.
* Dr Reneva Fourie is a policy analyst specialising in governance, development and security and co-author of the book ‘The Art of Power: Pursuing Liberation and Nation-building’
** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media.