I Am A Patriot
I was discussing the first topic for www.oldtakkiesindaba.com, being “When was the first time you knew you were South African” with my family, and my mother, on pondering for a while, said: “I don’t think I ever realised it”.
That was something of a revelation for me, in terms of now analysing my own feelings about South Africa when I was growing up. As I cogitated on these words I realised we had never grown up in a “South African” family. No emphasis was ever placed on the fact that we were South African; no one in the family was sports mad, no one was glued to televisions shouting support for our team; no on waved flags; in fact we never even owned a flag. I was never taught the anthem until I got to primary school; speaking Afrikaans was quietly not done, we never had and were never encouraged to have Afrikaans friends.
Both my maternal and paternal extended families were throwbacks from England and the culture and ideals we were taught or which came to us through osmosis, were very English. We were exposed to a much more Eurocentric culture too, in terms of the films we were taken to watch, the music and theatre we were exposed to, and the pursuits we followed.
Without any specific instructions or directions being passed down, the idea of South Africa and of being South African was understood, somewhat sub-consciously, to be infra-dig.
Thus it was that I spent the first twenty six or twenty seven years of my life being slightly embarrassed to belong to such a backward country (I was not thinking here or really aware of its politics, was thinking chiefly of its culture) and I knew that should I ever head overseas the last place I would claim to come from would be South Africa.
To my mind – which had (I now see) been smoothed and pointed and guided down the emerald green paths of the English countryside rather than into the khaki grey ochre bosveld of my homeland – I’d far rather be taken for English or even Australian than being connected with boorish backwater people from a land no one knew existed.
Slowly as I grew older and started to read and be exposed to South African poetry, ideas, film and stories, I came to understand that my land did have its own story to tell, but I was still resistant to the idea of identifying myself as South African. All of these feelings existed on a subtle plane within my mind – not often acknowledged, certainly never inspected or analysed – and were never an active part or conscious part of my growing up or day to day experiences.
In 1994 in the midst of the greatest changes we as a country had ever seen, I was a young mother, alone in South Africa while my closest family lived in England. I was pretty caught up in my own day to day experiences but I do remember the day I read that we were to have a new flag.
I was suddenly outraged, maybe there was something of the dog-in-a-manger about my reaction; certainly I had never realised or thought I was attached to the previous flag in any way, but now that I knew they (uncertain who they was, in my mind) were taking it away I wanted very much to be a South African, and I wanted to understand my country, and I wanted to learn about all that I had missed. I felt a new flag would mean I had lost this country I had suddenly come to love.
In all this emotional upheaval and confusion, I realised one thing clearly: I am now a South African, if I never was one before.
It’s too simplistic to end here but I have reached my word limit; I shall explore this reaction at greater length in articles to come.
Colleen, you sum it all up really well: one of the defining characteristics to be gleaned from reading several of the articles on this topic is that most of us were never particularly conscious of our nationality or heritage until sitting down to write this article.
That trait lies in stark contrast to my experience of American and Norwegian culture: these are two countries who can’t get enough of their flag and general patriotism – their national pride is one of the most immediately noticeable features to a foreigner.
I often wonder whether that may have to do with the fact that many of us have non-South African heritage? We’re all a bit confused as to where our loyalties lie (or our roots, for that matter).
I am very interested to hear from those (writers or commentators) who do have a strong South African heritage (i.e. had no foreign influence in their lives growing up): are you guys more immediately conscious of your SA nationality?
Hi Michelle, I would also be keen to hear from SA SANS if there is such a creature!
Thanks for commenting, it is true what you say about us only really considering the issue of our heritage once we sat down to write these articles. Which of course means that this is a HUGELY beneficial exercise. Thanks Alex!!
Great story. I’m also quite sure it will resonate with a lot of South Africans. I do have one question: Why were you outraged by a new flag?
Hi Colleen, excellent article as usual, we have a weird mix of cultures in our family, Netherland, UK, German, French, but we grew up in a real Afrikaans family where we did go crazy about rugby, etc. I went to a parallel-medium school, so I had a lot of Enghlish and Afrikaans speaking friends, I have always considered myself to be an Afrikaner, without consciously thinking about it. But changing the flag and the national anthem didn’t touch me, not sure why not.
Hi Carla
Think part of it had to do with me being in embryonic stage as regards my own SA identity.
And realising I had an emotional attachment to the old one. ??
Hi Celia
You seem much more grounded as a SA’n than I ever was. And more sure of your identity. I think Afrikaners have more of that. a sense of who they are than we rooinekke do.
You just keep rolling don’t you.On the road to the old SOUTH WEST AFRICA ,we picked up two American hikers , and got talking.The conversation turned into an argument,about race ,ect and there and then ,I realised .I am unique ,South African ,only 2 to 3 million white Afrikaans South Africans.I realised then , I had to learn from others ,black and white ,adapt my behaviour or I wont survive.Looking back , I owe those Yanks a big thank you.The year was 1983 , and we were part of an armoured convoy, en route to Angola ,a strange place,where we could hopefully meet strange and interesting people , and kill them.In 1983,this was being South African meant to me.
Good job Colleen,
I enjoyed this one…
@Michelle – I can’t speak for Norway, but I do know that here in the US the flag is very highly respected and of course everyone knows that they are American from a very early age, whether they like it or not. I imagine that if we did this experiment in the western hemisphere we would get some very different, very boring results.
@Mack – I would love to hear more of your stories as I’m sure would a lot of people
I never realized the importance of a flag. When they changed ours, i thought, what the hell for, what difference does it make?
I can’t answer that question. All I know is the new flag represented a new country, another chance, and I loved it for that.
Thanks Alex
YES MACK!!!
Come write for us!!
Alex and Colleen ,
I am honoured by the invitation , I will consider it .
Mack, email me at alex at oldtakkiesindaba dot com
Saint, you are a real mover and shaker. I admire you…
Thank you Graham. I would never have described myself as such, though
Col, good article. I was ambivalent about the old flag, the reason being that it had a Union Jack in it and the Brits had dropped us and the rest of their colonies right in it. I am very concious of being part of the white tribe of Africa, we dont actually fit anywhere else in the world. I had a great grandad on each side at the siege of Kimberley during the Boer war and with my Dad and my Grandad fighting for Britain in the 2nd and 1st world war respectively, we had some very awkward moments with our German origin cousins in Natal (1848 settlers) as they wanted to do something else to the British King. Now living in Europe to escape capital erosion and crime and violence, I am acutely aware that I am an African and will die one, but am equally aware that African politicians are their own worst enemies and any real growth and progress in Africa will probably not happen in my or my childrens lifetime. The world doesnt give a fig (excuse the pun) for Africa, they rose to the propaganda of the rascist whites and feel they have now done their job. I say they are interfering idiots, white Africans have a lot to offer, its up to the politicos in Africa to create a climate for them to be able to do so, but I see graduates daily coming to Europe and some estimates are a million Saffers in the UK already….the mind boggles. I quite like the new flag, it is colourful and doesnt have a Union Jack in it. The only thing that has ever outraged me about my country is the fact that most black people dont believe I am on their side. Us in business were changing things from the 60’s already, the government would have had to follow and SA would have been a world player. They unfortunately missed their opportunity after WW2 when all kids of all colours and backgrounds should have been shoved into universitites and technikons, instead Malan and later Verwoerd used “swart gevaar” tactics to the ultimate detriment of the Afrikaner people. I identify more with Afrikaner heritage than any other, it has taken me a long time to realise that. Keep thye good work up, I trust all is ok at home. a biento
Hey Norm
Thanks for the interesting reply. A million Saffers in the UK already hey? I find that amazing.
I like the notion of being part of the white tribe of Africa. your family history is very interesting and colourful from the pov of having two ancestors on opposite sides, all that dichotomy.
Things are nder control @ home, for now and with your help maybe permanently.
I appreciate your support of my new scribblings, as ever
I remain
Yours
C
Haha that’s very true Colleen. I find Afrikaaners incredibly patriotric in comparison to my friends and family.
Excellent post. Expressed many of the things I felt. Brilliantly put.
Thank you Robin