APARTHEID!

In the Name of the Father.

This is not a story to elevate me onto some high moral pedestal. It is to illustrate the effectiveness of racist, ethno supremacist indoctrination. How, over many decades, it can seep into and infect an entire country. Poisoning it to the very marrow.

I grew up in the 70’s and 80’s, inside a flourishing apartheid South Africa. By the time I was born, Apartheid was well and truly established. I grew up in a white neighborhood, surrounded by other white neighborhoods. I lived right across the road from a big play park, of which I have very fond memories. Life was good for the most part and so was the music.

There were some black people in my life, in the form of a house keeper and a gardener. But zero social interaction with people of colour took place, outside of hired help. This was not at all unusual for all of white South African society.

I had a large family with lots of siblings, and I don't remember us ever having a single conversation about apartheid. It never came up. It was the same for my group of friends and our teachers at school. Except for one instance in primary school around 1984, when my vice principal (also my English teacher), complained in front of the class about some ‘Tutu’ guy being nominated for a Nobel peace prize, apartheid never even entered our consciousness. Not once, in all my years of schooling, from primary to high school, did a single child turn around and ask where the black children even were. Our entire existence was separate. Completely.

But, whenever it came time to mention black people, then everyone had a lot of preconceived opinions about them. They were very stupid. They were dishonest thieves. They believed in the wrong religion. They naturally smelled bad and wanted to murder all white people. If given half a chance, they would rise up and murder us all. Plenty of stereotypes and jokes were made up about black, Indian and coloured people, without actually ever properly interacting with any people of colour. If we ever did touch a black person, we were quick to wash our hands, in case we caught something. A friend just admitted to me recently, that only a short while ago he stopped washing his hands, after greeting a black person with a handshake. Over 30 years later.

On holidays down by the coast as a child, mini concerts would be held for the old folks. Us little kids, without understanding the lyrics, would happily belt out racist folk songs about slaughtering the Zulus in a famous battle (Blood River). More on that later.

Black domestic workers, were given separate eating and drinking utensils. These were usually constructed from unbreakable enamel coated tin and kept apart from our cutlery and crockery. Restaurants were for whites only. So you never had to worry about something having touched a black person's lips. God forbid. White university students usually served restaurant meals. Rarely would you see a black person handling your food. I remember being terrified of a black person potentially spitting on my food, even if by mistake during preparation.

Occasionally, my father would strut up and down the passage at home, gesturing with his arms and complaining about some K_ffir (a derogatory term for a black person) by the name of Nelson Mandela and that he was a terrorist. But I certainly didn't know who my father was even talking about. I knew absolutely nothing about this Mandela, and cared even less. Besides, even pictures of Nelson Mandela were banned.

A young Nelson Mandela, pictured below 👇

Once, in early highschool, I remember a newspaper, releasing an artist's impression of what Mandela, could possibly look like, after so many years in jail and out of the public eye. I paid a little attention to it, only because it had riled my father up again. Mandela was some thug, that had been caught for treason a long time ago. Long before I was even born. It had no direct bearing on my life. He was in jail for life, were he would never commit another terrorist act again.

My mother, who was a big Christian, had sat us down as little ones, to explain that black people, carried the mark of Cain, Adam's murderous and evil son. She always had a good story to tell and I listened very intently and believed her earnest bigotry. I tried to be a good Christian boy, but stories like this and demonic possession, created a great deal of inner conflict and angst with me. I never once felt the presence of God, but I certainly feared his wrath.

I felt lucky that God had chosen us and our religion over the other inferior races and religions. I would do my best to honour this. To be a good example to the rest of the inferior world. A light unto the nations, so to speak. A small burden to bear, after being born extra special in god's eyes.

On top of what should have been a regular boy growing up, instead, was being overlayed, moulded and inculcated, a grotesque world view. I didn't know history had done this repeatedly before, with other ethno supremacist cultures, who came to believe they were the bee's knees and then went on a bloody murderous rampage, in order to prove it. Imperial Japan, prior to and during WW2, is an excellent case study of this type of ethno supremacy. Today, in the 21st Century, we unfortunately have another example.

Regularly, when we were driving around town, my mother would notice a black person on a bicycle. She'd always exclaim, ‘I wonder where he stole that bike from?’ We'd all nod in agreement. No way he acquired that bike honestly. I remember wanting to call the police and do my civil duty in returning the bicycle to its rightful owner.

Television, which arrived in 1976, was of course spilling over with ethno nationalist Afrikaner propaganda. Bible stories for the kids, news about how the outside world hated us unfairly, just for being who we were, a small group of misunderstood and persecuted people, only looking for the right to self determination on our own little piece of land under the sun. TV broadcasting closed off every night with the waving flag and ‘die stem’ (the national anthem). To cement the jingoism. I found it very depressing viewing for some reason. Perhaps because television was over for the day.

I remember being filled with rage every time I heard someone overseas had said something derogatory about South Africans. We were such nice people. A minority with a great heritage. How could they be so hateful? If only they could come over here and meet us. They would see just how wrong and ugly they had been. A tour of our beautiful country would put them straight. The right parts of course, not the townships. Just the clean white cities and Table Mountain.

Every time an overseas celebrity, did cross the boycott line and pay us a visit, the country turned it into a huge fanfare. See? This celebrity loves us, so stuff you world. Arnold Schwarzenegger was one of those celebrities. He won his last Mr Olympia (against a black competitor, Surge Nubret). In the capital of apartheid itself, Pretoria. I can just imagine our leaders saying, “See, we do let the right kind of blacks walk amongst us. Where do you get this racist nonsense from?”.

Schwarzenegger pictured below, winning his final Mr Olympia in Pretoria:

Do you think Nubret had the physique to beat Schwarzenegger back in 1975? I certainly do.

Anyway, I wasn't into bodybuilding as a kid. My favourite celebrity as a child was Dirk Benedict, star of the hit show ‘Battlestar Galactica’. Long before ‘The A Team’ ever graced the TV screen, Benedict played the role of lieutenant Starbuck. I was in grade 1, and I used to re-enact each week's episode with my friends at school. Anyway, Benedict arrived in South Africa one day for some red carpet event and was paraded around to everyone's delight. We loved him, because he loved us. And equally, we hated those celebrities who we felt, hated us.

As I grew up, I was concerned with every day things like girls, my sport and homework. I wanted to run in the Olympics (we were banned), star in a television commercial and join the special forces, to fight the communists. Afterwards, I would settle down and live in an apartment above my Dojo.

All the USA and UK’s enemies were our enemies too. Rambo and Arnold fighting the commies, was all the rage. As a teenager inspired by Blood Sport and the Rambo movies, my love for bodybuilding kicked in.

I recall us all loving the royals and following every bit of news about them too. I remember vividly the day prince Charles married princess Diana. I can describe the day, as if it was yesterday. A fascination with the crown, seems to permeate all settler colonial states. Programming? The crown is still beloved in the other 5 eyes countries outside of the United Kingdom, to this day.

In the 80’s, our schools were flooded with waves of English and Polish immigrants. The country needed them in order to bolster the white demographic and bring in skilled labour. They were incentivised to come to South Africa. Looking back, they were some of the most racist people I'd ever met. I couldn't see it at the time. I was one of them.

Reading the above, you may be thinking, what cold, cruel and ignorant person, wouldn't notice Apartheid? I think the same thing, when I look at Israel as it exists today. I didn't understand at the time, that was and still is, the ‘genius’ of apartheid. Its ability to capture a country by its ego and sense of self importance. By the time I was born, Apartheid was long ago consolidated. In my childhood world, there was nothing to question. I just lived and thrived among other people who looked exactly like me. The ‘other’, was simply a non entity. They had been effectively extracted from my world. Propaganda and religious indoctrination are very powerful tools at keeping the human mind hamstrung.

In the 1980’s we had video shops where you could hire movies. My older brother came home with a video of a popular British political satire show called ‘Spitting Images’. I was horrified when I saw the show and it might have been the beginning of my awakening. Please watch the short segment below 👇

Yes, that's what the world thought of us. If the world was the 1970’s sitcom ‘All in the family’, we were the ‘Archie Bunker’ and certainly my father reminded me a lot of that character. Again, please see below 👇

When I was about to turn 18, my father decided it would be a good idea to take me to a political rally. It was the rally of an extremely racist break away party known as the Conservative Party (CP) and led by a charismatic figure by the name of Dr Andries Treurnicht

The rally was held at an Afrikaans high school and well attended. This is my recollection of the evening. A minister (called a dominee) dressed in all white, opened the proceedings with a sermon on how the Afrikaner nation was similar to the Israelites who had escaped the tyranny of the Pharo, wandered in the desert, killed the pagans dwelling in the Holy Land and made a new covenant with the Lord. The Afrikaner Voortrekkers, had done the same after escaping British rule, wandering off in their ox wagons and being delivered from the Zulus at the ‘Battle of Blood River’. They had also made a covenant with the Lord. The land was now rightfully ours, given to us by god, just as the land of Milk and Honey, rightfully belonged to the Israelites after their divinely sanctioned genocide of the Amalekites & others. And by Israelites, the minister was refering to some modern day colonialists, who bizarrely, claim biblical ownership of Palestine 2000 years later. Not unlike me, going back to Iceland and colonising it in the name of my ancestor’s god, Thor.

Even to this day in South Africa, we have many religious Afrikaners with a deep tie to the Zionist ethno supremacist settler colonial project called Israel. I like to think it's because they have a peanut sized brain, but it's actually because they have a peanut sized world view. Religion often has that effect. They mistakenly believe their destinies are interwoven. A quick visit to Israel, to see how Christians are actually treated and seen as pagans, will quickly sort that delusion out. Be sure to wander off from the regular tourist spots to fully experience just how much you are loved by the Zionist colony.

Here's one example of dozens. I chose a more viewer friendly example 👇

Anyway, back to the evening. The entire crowd was worked into a frenzy, except for myself and one other man in the crowd, who appeared to be a reporter for the newspaper. It was ‘god’ this and ‘chosen’ that. You know, the usual mix of nationalism, religion and racism. It was very similar to having attended an evangelical church service. The crowd was incredibly jingoistic. My father was suitably impressed and thought I was probably too.

Below is a picture of the Voortrekker monument and the holy covenant or vow. Also, an interesting side note, that you're probably not aware of, is that a Jewish boy was used as a model for one of the bronze statues. Chosen instead of an Afrikaans child. This further illustrates the strong bond between racist Zionist Afrikaners and racist Zionist Jews in South Africa. Both horribly brainwashed by biblical literalism and imagined self importance 👇

After the event, my father asked me what I thought of it. Well, I was horrified. If my eyes had been closed before, they were now well and truly opened. In fact, they could never be closed again. My father wanted me to vote for the CP, because the writing was on the wall for Apartheid South Africa. The CP, could help prevent this, by giving the middle finger to the outside world. Just as Israel is doing at the moment to every international humanitarian law ever written. Well, my compromise to my father, was that I did not know enough and would not be voting for anyone. This was the ultimate nail in the coffin for my relationship with my father. I can't remember how long he didn't speak to me for, but when he did, our relationship was never the same until his death. The damage had been done.

The next chance I had to vote, was in a referendum to end Apartheid. It's truly one of the happiest days of my life. I remember standing in line with everyone and just having the best day. It would be the beginning of a new start for all South Africans. I still have my old ID today with the proof of my vote.

Miracles can happen. In South Africa, it was easy to see how people living inside the country were horribly brainwashed. Outside, it was a very different story. White people could see the horror show from the outside looking in. This is what differs largely from Israel's Apartheid. Most of the Jews living outside of Israel, are equally as brainwashed as the Jews living inside Israel. This, I feel is because of a corrupt legacy media and the reach of religious institutions, which refuse to be open minded and instead, amplify insular supremacist group thinking. Thinking outside the group is frowned upon and punished by the community. For example you’re a self hating Jew, not a real Jew or a Kapo, if you don’t deny the genocide of the Palestinians.

That's why movements such as BDS have become so important. Just as South Africa was forced to wake up, so too will Israel be forced to confront the genocidal monster that it has become.

Below is an excerpt from a Jewish South African and ex member of parliament, Andrew Feinstein 👇

To conclude, I would like to stress, that it is our obligation, in the face of a genocide, not to sit by and watch or pretend it isn't happening. If good people from the outside hadn't brought pressure to bear on Apartheid South Africa, we may have ended up in a genocide too. Instead, we are in a much better place today. My request to you is this. Do not be silent about what Israel is doing. Do not give your friendship, time or resources towards anyone supporting Israel. When the world said never again, we meant never again. It is within your power to address this injustice. And should the day appear, that those friends and family members, who were in support of Israeli brutality and genocide, have an awakening and ask for your forgiveness, then please forgive them. But until such time, I ask that you ostracise them completely and of course, non violently, until they do get the picture. Genocide & supporting genocide is completely unacceptable in any society.

If a child can stand up to his own father to do what is right in the face of a gross injustice. What, as a full grown, reasoning adult, is your excuse?

About the author:

Shilo Bunce holds degrees in Political Leadership & Citizenship & International Politics (Hons). He is interested in working towards sustainable world peace, universal healthcare, housing, food security and systems education for all earths inhabitants. He has a keen interest in propaganda, mythology and humankind’s persistent obsession with religious cults and pseudo science. When he isn’t doing this, he’s teaching and practicing calisthenics and enjoying life with his family.