AWB connection to Griekwastad murders rejected

saps4A police officer rejected claims by a rightwing woman that she played a part in the Steenkamp murders on a farm near Griekwastad last year, the Northern Cape High Court heard on Monday.

“There is no truth in these allegations,” investigating officer Dick de Waal testified.

Northern Cape Judge President Frans Kgomo was hearing evidence in the trial of a 17-year-old boy accused of killing Northern Cape farmer Deon Steenkamp, 44, his wife Christelle, 43, and daughter Marthella, 14. They were shot on their farm Naauwhoek, near Griekwastad, on 6 April 2012.

De Waal told the court he had received information from three sources since the court last heard the matter.

The new information was received from a woman in Kuruman, a man who called a State witness, and a woman, Cornelia de Wet, who was in prison in Middelburg, Mpumalanga.

It was reported that De Wet, a member of the Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging (AWB), had confessed to her alleged role in the murders of the Steenkamps.

The Diamond Fields Advertiser reported that 37-year-old De Wet, in custody for possession of explosives and ammunition, alleged the Steenkamp murders were part of a plan to attack white farmers in an attempt to instil fear and incite racial hatred.

Prosecutor Hannes Cloete questioned De Waal on how he had handled all the additional information in the case since the last court sitting. De Waal testified that all the information was followed up, statements were taken and added to the docket.

The boy’s defence team was given all the statements.

The court heard the State brought De Wet to Kimberley so that the boy’s defence team could consult with the woman. – Sapa

Deconstructing the Boerehaat outburst

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by Dan Roodt

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We have a unique English population in South Africa. On the one hand, they are the most politically radical. On the other, some are partially Afrikanerised and bilingual. Just today I was listening to one of them speaking fluent Afrikaans on RadioSonderGrense, just about perfect, with a soupçon of an English accent. At least fifty percent of English-speakers in South Africa have a knowledge of Afrikaans, the highest figure for any anglophone population in the world. A much smaller percentage of them speak French in bilingual Canada and a much smaller proportion of Britons speak any of the other languages of the European Union to which they belong.

Somewhere in 2000 Régis Débray, the French essayist and philosopher and one-time chronicler of Ché Guevara visited South Africa. We immediately hit it off and he was absolutely fascinated by some of my theories on Africanism, the return to the origin, as well as a short introduction to Afrikaner thinking. I remember the local French Institute getting irritated as he was falling behind schedule as a result of our lengthy discussion.

One of the things he said I remember to this day: that no “Anglo-Saxon society” had ever succumbed to totalitarian ideas. Unlike Germany, Italy, Russia and much of Eastern Europe of course. He ascribed it to something that Orwell also wrote about: the common sense of the Englishman, his disdain for complex philosophical or ideological systems. In Orwell’s words:

Here are a couple of generalizations about England that would be accepted by almost all observers. One is that the English are not gifted artistically. They are not as musical as the Germans or Italians, painting and sculpture have never flourished in England as they have in France. Another is that, as Europeans go, the English are not intellectual. They have a horror of abstract thought, they feel no need for any philosophy or systematic ‘world-view’. Nor is this because they are ‘practical’, as they are so fond of claiming for themselves. One has only to look at their methods of town planning and water supply, their obstinate clinging to everything that is out of date and a nuisance, a spelling system that defies analysis, and a system of weights and measures that is intelligible only to the compilers of arithmetic books, to see how little they care about mere efficiency. But they have a certain power of acting without taking thought. Their world-famed hypocrisy – their double-faced attitude towards the Empire, for instance – is bound up with this.

However, I think I must write to Débray that he and Orwell were wrong, at least in some respects. The Jekyll-and-Hyde nature of the local English-speaking population divides into both a good-natured, polite, hospitable, outdoorsy type (like Afrikaners) and a more sinister, scheming, obsessive, greedy bunch oozing bad faith and hatred. I have experience of both kinds. Suffice it to say that the Mr. Hyde-style English person has caused us untold suffering; he or she is usually in the forefront of inciting hatreds of all kinds, advocating war or terrorism, social engineering on a vast scale, collective punishment and, last but not least, Boerehaat.

Ironically, while abjuring ethnicity, race and any form of patriotism, considered “fascist”, the leftist kind of Englishman reacts ethnically, viscerally to any form of “other” on the horizon. I have seen it many times, including over the past week with a motley collection of silly scribes and armchair activists lashing out at the Red October protest and campaign.

It bears repeating: the South African anti-racist is the biggest racist of them all! Their compulsive rejection of the (white) other is so fanatical, so obsessive, so pathological even that it borders on the insane. Not only do they hate Afrikaners, but also Southern Americans, Scots, French (the “Frogs”), Germans (the “Krauts”), the Dutch who are by definition “dumb”, Italians, Greeks, etc. While embracing political radicalism, Marxism (espcially the “vulgar” kind), egalitarian extremism, they still subscribe to nineteenth-century Anglo-Saxon supremacism. Albert Brenner recently reminded us of Cecil John Rhodes’s famous statement:

I contend that we British are the finest race in the world and that the more of the world we inhabit the better it is for the human race. Just fancy those parts that are at present inhabited by the most despicable specimens of human beings what an alteration there would be if they were brought under Anglo-Saxon influence…

However, as an old Boer who participated in the first Anglo-Boer said: “I have seen the colour of the English flag and it is white.” The mythical victory of Wellington over Napoleon at Waterloo was largely won with German mercenaries. Hence the form of the ongoing low-intensity conflict between the English radical and the Afrikaner in this country: Besides placing bombs in public places or Wimpy restaurants, terrorism being the method of the coward, his main form of combat is in the propaganda department, a job which is also eminently suitable for women.

I could go into the vile history of the so-called “armed blacks” of the Anglo-Boer when the invading English army introduced interracial rape as a weapon of war into our pristine land, and you will get an understanding of English “warfare” which resembles the atrocities of a Charles Taylor or some Congolese warlord avenging himself on defenceless women and children. The point is that the English radical does the incitement and the “psy ops” but lets others do the fighting, or even the protesting.

A few months ago I observed this at close quarters outside the Constitutional Court in Johannesburg. There were a few English radicals outside the court, speaking on cellphones, summoning their rented black crowd who duly arrived to toyi-toyi about “racism” in Afrikaans schools. A lone Afrikaner armed only with a camera, I confronted the black crowd and asked them why they weren’t singing “Dubula iBunu” (Shoot the Boer) because I was in attendance. But apparently that was not on the programme, to my great disappointment.

The Englishman and -woman, being cowards, would never confront us directly. They would always summon some or other rent-a-crowd or bused-in mob to protest or sometimes commit some horrible sadistic act, such as an intimidatory necklace murder. “Kill one, scare a thousand,” said Mao and of course the English radical has embraced this principle to the hilt.

Despite her surname, Gillian Schutte is as English and as radical as they come. Echoing the South African Communist Party, she has delivered the latest screaming denunciation of the Red October protest, aptly entitled Seeing Red. As confessions of Boerehaat go, it demonstrates a few things. The lack of culture and intellectualism that Orwell routinely ascribed to his countrymen, would be one of them. In fact, when the new, radical government took over in 1994, one of the first things that Kader Asmal, a miserable Indian and zombie warlord of the British Empire, did was to confiscate the classical-music instruments at Afrikaans schools. That vindictive, philistine act was surely not only his idea, but must have been decided by some English committee somewhere. No doubt the committee must have been consumed with envy and hatred at seeing our beautiful children singing in choirs and operettas, as naturally “musical as Italians or Germans” (see Orwell quote above) and playing their instruments with that quiet seriousness which is so characteristic of the Afrikaner child, as opposed to the ill-discipline, the boisterous and disrespectful, often drug-ridden anomie of the modern “English” child.

Many English bands build a career on about three guitar chords, as opposed to our famous pianists who perform Chopin or Beethoven the world over. The annual Unisa international piano competition is the highlight of the Afrikaner social calendar in Pretoria. However, English music, like English food, is loud and repetitive. Gillian Schutte does not have three chords. She only has one, strident, false note: “racism”. Karl Marx turned Hegel “on his head” in order to give us the class struggle, but even that simple idea is too complex for our local Rooinek Reds. (“Aanstap Rooies, die pad is lank en swaar…” goes the Afrikaans folk song, the existence of folk songs being another sign of our innate “fascism”.) Their natural inclination is to a kind of Spanish-Inquisition denunciation of the heretic. I think I have already pointed out the resemblance between the primitive and literal South African witch-hunt during which the offending man or usually woman is “sniffed out” by a sangoma and current attempts to identify and isolate dissidents or “racists” in order to publicly pillory or perhaps even physically harm them.

Gillian Schutte is the sangoma of the Johannesburg Left. According to her, the “Red October (campaign is).. becoming their own worst enemies as they buy into the construct of an imaginary genocide and declare a hate-filled discursive war against the entire black population”.

In essence, Schutte is calling for a black mob or impi to come and “sort out” the white, Afrikaner racists.

“But where is the outrage?” she laments. She claims that someone had called President Jacob Zuma (whose strongly Zulu identity most Afrikaners actually approve of, as being in keeping with their own ideas about acceding to modernity through one’s own culture and not a foreign one) a “Kaffer dog”. It is obvious that hordes of English “cyber warriors” in the form of agents provocateurs will try to frame Afrikaner dissidents by posting “racist” statements all over Facebook in the next few weeks, so that Schutte and her fellow racial cheerleaders may appeal to black racial identity which they keep in a wounded, rancorous state through endlessly harping on “apartheid”, “our dark past” and similar Gothic tales that are mostly fiction, interspersed with a few half-truths here and there.

To the “progressive English white”, blacks are but dogs to do his bidding, in taking the fight to the enemy: the patriotic Afrikaner who refuses to leave or disappear, or to wither away and die. At the end of the Anglo-Boer war, the British high command was flooded with letters from irate Natalians and Capetonians who did not want Britain to stop but to “cleanse the country for England” and proceed to a complete genocide of the Boer population, man, woman and child. In the concentration camps there was a concerted attempt to stamp out the Afrikaans language and identity. As E.B. Sargent wrote to Lord Milner in 1903:

We must appeal to England and the brothers and sisters of those who have fought for the Empire, asking them to come over to carry out that part of the work which their kinsmen were not able to complete. Our military operations have resulted in the greater part of the boys now remaining in the camps, and I am convinced that we have no better opportunity than now to make them all English-speaking next year … What we now require here are women, highly capable teachers with strong patriotism who would be willing to come hither and face the hardships of the camp life, in order to teach the children of the burghers our language and our ideals. Gradually these children should also be taught our great Imperial ideals.

Chris Louw overheard Alistair Sparks on an aeroplane, saying something similar, that Britain had made a singular mistake in not killing all Afrikaners when she had had the opportunity. Underlying the anti-racist discourse of the anglophone Left are the most archaic prejudices against the “European”, the non-English, as well as the Afrikaner – speaking his “guttural tongue” as it has been dubbed in so many trashy English novels written in this country.

In South Africa the colonial genocide of the nineteenth century meets the “progressive” genocides of the twentieth and they intermingle, eclectically, syncretistically. The British camp commander and rapist of Boer girls in their early teens meets Winnie Mandela with her box of matches and together they dance around the bonfire screaming their Rwandan chant from La Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines: “Kill the cockroaches!” Is it pure coincidence that Natal, source of all those genocidal letters, also has a “Valley of a Thousand Hills”? Cue in Stalin, Pol Pot, Mao’s Red Guards and you have the picture. I have always maintained that South Africa is a dumping ground for worn-out but dangerous ideologies from the rest of the world, such as communism or, in this case, American race ideology with its anti-white bias.

No-one in the petty-minded phalanx of the South African Left understands what the term “deconstruction” actually means, yet it has become one of those buzz-words circulating like a rumour or a piece of gossip. Let me not enlighten the benighted necklacists of Wits or UCT in their postcolonial trance.

Except, perhaps, for pointing out or performing one small piece of Abbau. Haha, it almost sounds like the Khoi loanword in Afrikaans and the name of Swedish pop group, “abba”.

Race, we are told by the leftist mob, is a social construct. Yet in their response to Afrikaner dissidence and protest in being led to the slaughterhouse – no longer are we lambs – the Left appeals very strongly to race and racial identity.

“Where is the outrage?” screams Gillian Schutte, meaning the outrage of blacks who should respond to her clarion call of race and a deep, biological identity. Jonathan Jansen, whom I call the clown of Bloemfontein, has published a collection of clichés called “Knowledge in the blood”. Yet, the Left, with its internationalist-Marxist, globalist, deculturated, we-are-all-the-same bombast, is actually appealing to the most basic of instincts: blood and racial rage.

Will the black hordes assemble for the witches’ sabbath of the white feminists? Are the Bantu that stupid?

That anyone should risk the future of South Africa in proving a point to a few Afrikaner protestors with red balloons is, of course, another indication of just how certifiably insane Ms. Hyde has become. Are we on our way to a Rwanda, a Katyn Wood, a Khmer Rouge Cambodia, a Maoist Cultural Revolution?

The sinister South African Left has always craved corpses in the streets, which it had after the Church Street bomb, as well as its ill-fated march on Bisho. The cold-blooded murder of the three AWB men in Bophutatswana by a black policeman is still relished as the crowning glory of its achievement.

To see a white man begging for his life before an armed black (or a mob), represents the ultimate English-leftist fantasy. Farm murders, as well as the shooting of Afrikaner children like Kayla Rawsthorne, Danielle Esterhuizen, Willemien Potgieter, Alyssa Botha and others by roaming young black “freedom fighters” sates, at least for a few moments, the bloodlust of the colonial “Reds” in this part of the world.

Afrikaners (and moderate whites generally) should keep cool heads, but also be aware that even the continued existence of Afrikaans government schools inspires an ethnic reaction which can become dangerous if left unchecked. We have already seen at Heidelberg, Fochville and other places how seemingly placid communities may be swept up through racial and ethnic rhetoric, disguised as “anti-racism”.

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Black man longs for his homeland

The once beautiful old town

Mafikeng’s incorporation into the then homeland [bantustan] of Bophuthatswana in 1980, made it a great place, says a black town member. Mpho Moshe Matheolane bemoans how the ANC allowed the well-functioning town of Mafikeng to deteriorate into the sad state it is now.

The then president Chief Lucas Mangope, who had succeeded in outdoing chief Tidimane Pilane for the position of the first (and only) chief minister in 1972 following the inaugural meeting of the Bophuthatswana Legislative Assembly, found himself in what can only be described as a quagmire of note in the period leading up to South Africa’s first democratic elections. Unable to relinquish power, he put his faith in the AWB in the hopes that his “country” would resist incorporation back into South Africa.

Despite Mangope’s blunders and the clearly unwelcome position by many anti-apartheid political movements, that Bophuthatswana like all the other homelands was a step in the wrong direction regarding the collective struggle of the native peoples of South Africa, Bophuthatswana went on to become the best run and most successful of the homelands. The argument has been made before; under the Bophuthatswana black-run government many positive things were achieved, even in the face of relying on apartheid South Africa for backing and the subsequently unfortunate endorsement of the policy of racially based separate development.

Infrastructure such as an airport, a broadcasting centre (Bophuthatswana Broadcasting Corporation, or BBC), a quality university (UniBo) and internationally equipped and state of the art recording studio, to name but a few, were put in place. A strong sense of identity both culturally and socially was entrenched in many of the homeland’s inhabitants. It was required that one be as fluent and literate in their mother tongue as they were in English or Afrikaans.

Of course, this is not to say that the Bophuthatswana days were the halcyon days as the rest of the country continued to go through the motions of a land forcefully coming to terms with its destiny. Even within its borders, a constant awareness of the stark contrast of life outside permeated the minds of many. But the significance of this historical context becomes relevant when one looks at what the former Bophuthatswana homeland became after a democratic dispensation was achieved. Under the current ANC leadership and since 1994, Mafikeng as the apparent synecdoche of Bophuthatswana and its entire functioning infrastructure all but came to a tragic halt and dare one say, deliberate near-destruction.

Logic arguably dictates that given much of the work that had already been accomplished in Mafikeng, all that the ANC had to do was to build on top of it. But this was never the case. The former BBC which, according to some sources, already had the capacity to provide a number of national channels several times over its now embarrassingly incompetent parent body, the SABC, quickly deteriorated. The international recording studios, which were used for part of the award winning Lion King musical production, were put under lock and key, while the airport, which is still in the list of longest runways in the world, was passed on for some private use despite the brief SAA connecting flights that were operated from it.

Mafikeng as it stands does not have a town gallery even though many a talent came and continue to come out of it. The town museum is a dishevelled institution which currently sees its parking lot being utilised by the provincial department of public works. In any given year, a new shopping mall can spring up a mere five minutes from the next one, creating in turn, ghostly complexes whose interiors are filled with to-let signs and emptiness. These are but only a few of the many things that are now administratively wrong with Mafikeng.

The sprawling rural land that was tamed into a town as sensitively depicted in the photographic work of Paul Alberts, The Borders of Apartheid, is now nothing but a shadow of its former self. Thanks to black rule.