Farmworkers and Resistance in South Africa. Mbuso Nkosi Supervisor
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Doing Research Otherwise: Critical Essays on ‘The Land Question’, Farmworkers and Resistance in South Africa. Mbuso Nkosi Supervisor: Dr. Prishani Naidoo A thesis submitted to the Faculty of Humanities, University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg, in fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy (Development Studies). Johannesburg, 2018 Declaration I declare that this thesis is my own unaided work. It is submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg. It has not been submitted before for any other degree or examination in any other university. Mbuso Nkosi _____________________________ (Name of candidate and Signature) Date: 15 March 2018 i Abstract This thesis is a collection of essays. It is an attempt to critically focus on how Blacks resisted land dispossession and how the question of land in the current society has re-emerged as a need to redress the injustices of the past. The first argument advanced is that there is a need to rethink resistance and understand the conceptual importance of silence as not that which indicates the inability to speak (to be mute or non-existent). Instead, in certain conditions it reflects a disinterest in shaping the course of power. Secondly, the essays recast the entire focus of dispossession from being an economic problem and focus on other questions, like the ontological and eschatological. The essays, therefore, aim to understand what the meaning of land is, what does it mean to belong to the land and what does it mean to be returned to the land? The two essays that draw on archival material and the farm violence in Bethal from the 1940s-1960s argue that the historical problem of violence, on South African farms, reflects a historical nervousness of those that have termed themselves the ‘owners’ of the land, the White farmer. In that case, we discover that the land question holds a broader meaning, beyond the economic and it is in the anxiety of the question, ‘where will we die’ that we begin to appreciate the land as a home. Hence, I argue that the question of land has approached me as a question of death. When all is said and done, whence does salvation then lie in a society torn by this particular past? Salvation is possible only if we move towards those voices that are assumed to be mute or in need of being spoken for. That is why the farmworker or the one who works in the belly of the earth will help in revealing the great secret of the land, which the present seeks to remember only for it to be forgotten again, in empty political rhetoric that assumes that the land can be owned. Thirdly, the essays find the concept of reflexivity insufficient, for it loses nothing while it bends and reflects the conditions of the scholė with their holy trinity: the theory, the field, and themselves. This approach begs the question, what about the ethical? What does it mean to encounter the face of the Other making a demand to be seen for who they are? The critique advanced is that social science research has no conception of the ‘ethical’ beyond the bureaucratic stamp we get from the University ethics committee. That is why a question emerges as to what it means for a Black student to research their communities as if they are not from those communities. This is why a call is made ‘To do Research Otherwise’ from a position, that appreciates alterity. ii Dedication Before I make a dedication… let me express the infinitely nourishing love that God granted me in this journey. Maka bongwe, ufanelwe lonke udumo! This work is dedicated to two things that matter the most to me: To that voice that keeps on speaking. To that voice that filled my lungs when I was close to death. To that voice that was heard by her and then whispered to me. To that voice that began to exist independently in me. To all those that are able to hear that silent voice speaking. That voice that comforts, strengthens, calls to love, and reminds us that nothing may conquer those who have obeyed it. Keep on! To my family: abakwa Nkosi, abakwa Vezi, my father and his parents- abakwa Dongo. Mostly my maternal family for they nurtured my Mother and then nurtured me ngoba ke mina ngilibhaca elabhaca koMama ngenkathi ubaba esweleka! To my great grandmother Lephinah Ntombizine Mthethwa owendela kaVezi ethathwa ngu Absolom Vezi owavikelwa uMalume wakhe wakhulela kaZondi. The power of clairvoyance that my mother has inherited from the Vezi’s, then from my great grandmother Evelyn Gugile uMaTwala owendela kaNkosi ethathwa nguAndries Nkosi. From all this rich history, I became! I experienced this history from uGogo Sithandwa Mary MaVezi owendela kaNkosi ethathwa ngumkhulu uAaron Nkosi. To uMkhulu Mphambi Nkosi, whom in my concern and the families concern for his grave that "disappeared" led me to enquire deep about if we are going to rest in death. I look forward to a land freed to itself. I hope we will one day find your grave. To the memory of my Brother, Lebogang Mainole (Dongo), whose death this year meant I had lost my lower limbs. The pain of knowing that there is no one again who will say ‘my brother’ to me, makes me cry! Lahamba ithambo likaMzikayifane, RIP. iii Acknowledgements Oh, since I was young, been groovin' to my own drum Ain't that many teachers, show me my potential Felt like a failure, momma said you know better Future in my hands God, she had a plan Stronger than I know, soon I'd understand The power I possess, the story of the Chosen Lost since I was young, been groovin' to my own drum Ain't that many teachers show me my potential Felt like a failure, momma said you know better Future in my hands God, she had a plan Stronger than I know, soon I'd understand The power I possess, the story of The Chosen (Kid Cudi, 2016: Rose Golden) Gogo, will I ever find peace knowing that in this world I will never ever see you again or talk to you? I will forever miss the philosophy that you assiduously inculcated in my young impatient mind. I was the only kid in primary during lunch who did not play that much with other kids, but spent his lunch in conversation with his grandmother. I will forever miss your mastery in conversation. Your care for others is something I am yet to find in any book! However, I am comforted by the fact that at least through Nonhle you came back and the conversation can still continue. I am here because I am still afraid of failing you! iv Mkhulu, through Nkosingiphile, I see that awe struck face of yours. You knew that my idea of being a man was that which came from women (uDidi no Gogo). But, from you I learnt a lot and that can be surmised into one word, RESPONSIBILITY! In me masculinity and femininity could produce a peaceful dance. I will continue being responsible. Thank you for the comical relief and with Nkosingiphile we can all laugh again, sometimes in discomfort. Mama, like the Mother of the Great Zulu King, Shaka Zulu, you knew that a great man ought to be raised by his mother's family. Bayede Ndlovukazi! Kuwe ngiyazithoba! You provided me with great roots, no wind can move me! A prophetess who was never supposed to be blessed with a child; busk in your kingdom then! Jabula eMbusweni wakho! I stand today infused with great teachings from abakwaVezi to abakwaNkosi. You are not just a philosopher, but also a mathematician… In those many papers you have filled with different calculations, it seems you are calculating and modelling some secret life that you are only going to create. Sisi Ntonto uyakhumbula ngikubiza in grade R ukuthi uzongibhalela ufive? Ngiyabonga ngothando ongibonise lona, yingakho ngingeke ngikukholwe. Mama Mabasa ngiyabonga ngakho konke. Ungisizile ngeqa umgwaqo obunzima! Nokuphiwe ‘John’ Nkosi, oh I remember that day on the 7th of April 1993 where I told my friends ukuthi kithi konomntwana o-brown. Since that day I have always been bothering you. Mina nawe sizondlula uDidi noFanky. Then in that very household we were introduced to Philane Mbatha. Oh, that little boy made me look forward to going back home after a long day at school! I wish that God may comfort you and remind you that you are loved. Intwana yami! Years later, I was introduced to enye intwana, Kekeletso. Always entertaining and singing for us. For the first time I saw uGogo laugh with worry because you were very strange. Then you would always come shouting, “Gogo! Gogo! Gogo!” Keke, I hope one day you will make your parents very proud. Mbali “Stanana”, I wish that you grow up and make your parents proud! To Tumelo and Philane, know that you are loved by your fathers family! Thando, I hope you will grow up with the strength that you have and know that you are loved by your family! v Siyabonga, to be a father to you makes me anxious. How can I claim to be a father if I am burdened by paternity being a legal fiction? I wish all the best for you my boy. I remember those days when you were an infant suffering from eczema and you would cry… I would pick you up and lay you on my chest and you would fall sleep. It was the same thing when you were refusing to go to school; while other kids were walking on their own, there you were resting on my chest.