The last blog

This is my last blog on Thought Leader.

I never thought the day would come when the tentacles of oppression would silence freedom of expression, but as long as I have family in this country, the increasingly sinister, menacing and credible threats from the ANC, Jacob Zuma and their legions of thuggish operatives cannot be ignored.

Ever since working on the Rand Daily Mail back in the 1970s, threats have been accepted as part of the turf of being a journalist. They were the white man’s equivalent of the knock on the door of black freedom fighters. Maybe even slightly romantic.

And I was stronger and younger and bullet-proof back then. Like most young men with apparent Afrikaans ties (the surname) who grew up in the platteland, agents tried to recruit me too. Shit, the money was very tempting, but I thought I was untouchable. I didn’t have the guts to turn them down to their faces. I just delivered fuck-all and I think they got the message eventually. Unreliable and a waste of effort.

Now the world has changed and the mighty ANC, with its cohorts and allies, behave exactly the same as those Nats and their apartheid machinery did back then. The only difference is that it’s not a crime against humanity and their thugs and assassins operate at arm’s length to give the “accountable” public figures plausible deniability.

Right-thinking people have long dropped the notion that the ANC and its allies have not been behind the greater agenda of racist farm killings. It is just too easy and too common to fudge evidence, and the spineless commissions instituted to investigate these have, predictably, produced only what Luthuli House has told them to produce. Now the South African Human Rights Commission and other quasi-statal organs just toe the party line and smile and press the party flesh. My entreaties to them, the press ombudsman and the rest of the Gucci-clad platoons of sycophants have been acknowledged and crammed into File 13.

The ANC, PAC and the rest of the liberation litter’s reign of terror has been behind most of the racist farm murders, random shootings and beatings, the unexplained abductions and killings in rural villages and urban killing fields, “extraordinary renditions” of Pakistanis and other nationals — and now the use of the internet, emails through Yahoo!, Gmail and anonymous remailers, cellphones and even wire taps have spread the virus with a renewed venom since Zuma’s dark and ominous rise to power and the increasing militancy of the communists and left wing.

Thanks to the indolence and apathy of our police, the ANC’s total control of the upper echelons of power, along with its disbanding of the Scorpions and ensuring that “retired” army chiefs are absorbed into executive committees, cascading down directives to the foot soldiers, has been dead easy and so far untraceable. There is no paper trail and it’s easy to just blame the “the scourge of crime” that has been allowed to grow and mature unimpeded for 14 years.

The paint job that makes it all look so respectable and decent is the wondercoat of private/public partnerships, fully washable, with money for stretch and influence for strength and a vast array of impotent but pretty commissions, charters, committees, task teams, laws and a malleable Constitution that lets the ANC colours fit every home and every mood.

Now that the Last King of Nkandla is cementing his dictatorship with snide populist jibes at the invertebrate Mbeki, on the state-sponsored terror front it is business as usual.

And, I have to admit, I am terrified.

I drive home 20km every night in fear. I take different routes home — some twice the distance if necessary. I scrutinise each car that follows me. I take photographs of those which behave suspiciously. I tape just about every phone conversation. I drive around the block before entering the driveway and hoot for my dogs to come. I go to bed terrified and sleep lightly if at all. I no longer go out at night — to movies, shows, on dates or even to Toastmasters. I only go shopping where I can take my dogs with me — and only during daylight hours. I am suspicious of everyone. Strangers are not welcome at my gate. I make appointments to make calls and never answer a suspicious call. I triple-check the locks, all of them, each night. And often have the dogs sleep in my bedroom.

And it is eating at my soul.

I am no longer young, bullet-proof or strong. I am older than I should be, fragile, depressed and sad six days a week. And I hate living in terror all the time. If I sound paranoid to you, join the ranks of the bigots who still discriminate against people like me.

Now that I have been made a target, my first and foremost priority is to get my son out of this cursed land. I am sickened by the emails from groups calling themselves The Lions of Zuma, the ANC Youth Brigade, the Young Communist Brigade, the Youth League, the Spear of Azania, the Young Lions of Msholozi. I am offended by their emails simply listing my physical street address, or that simply state my car details. I am sick of the late-night phone calls and brief phrases in languages I do not understand. I am terrified by the SMSs and will not open MMSs after the one that just had a blurred photo of the entrance to my home. And I am offended by the way the police looked at me when I reported the emails (some of which I found by accident when cleaning out my spam folder).

I have discussed my withdrawal from TL with Riaan Wolmarans and, since I cannot afford the security I seem to need, the authorities couldn’t give a shit if I live or die, and there are no legal resources to fall back on, I must bid you farewell.

What the thinly veiled racism of Sowetan could not achieve, the dark agents of our government have. I can now say without fear of contradiction that we are ruled by truly evil people hell-bent on self-enrichment and self-aggrandisement. And if white bloggers piss them off sufficiently, they will let their mongrels loose. Freedom of expression, like freedom of association and freedom of movement, and accountable governance, transparency, honesty and integrity are as mythical as ubuntu and batho pele.

Tragically, dear reader, you and I matter nothing. The ANC has made it clear that its only real objective is the poor. Jessie Duarte looked me right in the eyes on Tuesday and said so. That sounds admirable at first glance until you understand the poor are the majority who will keep the ANC in power. The poor don’t demand much (and won’t get much either, just enough to sway their vote next year). The poor lack the education and sophistication and worldly wisdom we have. And to most of them, Jacob Zuma and his machine gun and his song and his dance and his gangs of goons are the epitome of the power and leadership they crave.

Here is a recent article from a leading Scottish Sunday newspaper. It says many things I wish I could say.

Like most of South Africa, I have been betrayed, abandoned and terrorised by my government. If this is what it was like for black people under apartheid, I am so, so sorry.

Sorry I didn’t fight harder. Sorry I was not more offended. Sorry I did not go to jail for you.

Not that you would do that for me now, but still I’m sorry because no one should have to live in fear forever.

If I can’t write in freedom, without fear or favour, I will not write at all.

Good bye and good luck.