For Oupa.<\/p>\n
By Jonathan de Vries, an old friend and comrade<\/p>\n
A few weeks ago I stood next to Oupa\u2019s body at that rousing send-off of a funeral.\u00a0\u00a0Just over a week before that we had been in whatsapp communication making plans for things to do when he got out of hospital.\u00a0It was a very emotional and fraught moment.\u00a0Sometimes the only response to such a deep loss is silence.\u00a0It was very difficult to speak then.<\/p>\n
Today,\u00a0with the benefit of some time to mourn and reflect,\u00a0let me say a few things about this most remarkable human being and my lifelong friend Pule \u201cOupa\u201d\u00a0Lehulere.<\/p>\n
Oupa and I met in our teens in the context of the Western Cape student movement of the late 1970s and 80\u2019s. Thanks to an extended workshop organised by the Churches Urban Planning Commission (CUPC) we found ourselves able to spend days in conversation between formal sessions at the Dora Falke Centre in Muizenberg.<\/p>\n
Not all comrades are friends.\u00a0However,\u00a0we were immediately drawn to each other,\u00a0we recognised each other,\u00a0not only through a shared conviction about the necessity of revolutionary change but also through a shared passion for music,\u00a0particularly African Jazz and an insatiable curiosity about the world.\u00a0A commitment to seeing beyond the artificial constructs of the normality of our time.\u00a0And of a shared delight,\u00a0both serious and mischievous,\u00a0in the forms that would give us the tools to express that truth-seeking energy. Poetry,\u00a0philosophy,\u00a0literature\u00a0and\u00a0political theory.\u00a0These elements\u00a0combined with a quiet but deep sense of outrage at the injustice of the virulent form of racial capitalism we were born into,\u00a0made for a heady mix.<\/p>\n
We were revolutionaries. We were going to change the world. Living as\u00a0Pablo\u00a0Neruda said with\u00a0\u201cwords in action and deeds that sing.\u201d<\/p>\n
I must pause to make a general point now because in a sense Oupa is whispering into my ear and insists that I do so.<\/p>\n
To young people between\u00a0their\u00a0late teenage years and early twenties who feel these feelings,\u00a0and\u00a0who find some resonance with this attitude toward life. Do three things:\u00a0Firstly,\u00a0study study study \u2013 in a disciplined and focused way to deepen and find a world view that matches your instincts about what is right and wrong with the world.\u00a0Secondly,\u00a0travel. Not escapist tourism to relax and refresh\u00a0–\u00a0though that of\u00a0course has its place,\u00a0but travel with purpose.\u00a0Do the Che Guevara\u00a0Motorcycle\u00a0Diaries thing.\u00a0Go meet your people. You have a very small window before the mortgage and the responsibility of family kick in.<\/p>\n
Arising from our first encounter Oupa and some close comrades formed a study group\u00a0in\u00a01979.\u00a0Oupa was a rigorous task master who set the pace. We were intellectual orphans with no mentors who assumed the task of\u00a0what we then\u00a0understood to be\u00a0the biggest questions facing humanity.\u00a0From Hegel to Marx from the Grundrisse to State and\u00a0Revolution,\u00a0we dived in every Sunday afternoon at our respective\u00a0homes,\u00a0sympathetic parents permitting.\u00a0Each member had the task of leading the discussion on chapters of each of the chosen texts.\u00a0We were students from Harold Cressy,\u00a0Fezeka\u00a0and\u00a0ID Mkhize High.\u00a0We\u00a0“discovered”\u00a0Marxism and thanks to Oupa’s rigour,\u00a0not the cartoon version.<\/p>\n
The next thing he\u00a0and I did later,\u00a0was to undertake a South African road trip together,\u00a0mainly\u00a0to\u00a0the then Transvaal and Natal. By bus and train.\u00a0Our explicit objective was to experience and understand the lived conditions of the working class. Staying in townships from Soweto to Tongaat;\u00a0staying with comrades in the white left in Yeoville and Crown\u00a0Mines;\u00a0hosted and guided by comrades in the\u00a0Black\u00a0Consciousness movement as well as in the\u00a0Congress movement.\u00a0Punctuated by jazz concerts and parties we eventually\u00a0returned\u00a0home\u00a0to\u00a0Cape\u00a0Town\u00a0and then parted ways.<\/p>\n
I chose the ANC as my political home, influenced strongly by a young chemist I had met in Durban called Pravin Gordhan.\u00a0Oupa chose to dedicate himself to the development of independent working class organisation by whatever means necessary. And that was that.<\/p>\n
Despite our serious and lifelong political differences from then on and later even profound philosophical differences – I am in classical Marxist terms an Idealist, he a Materialist. I am a child of the ANC – we remained comrades and friends. This might come as a surprise to many, but Oupa was always sympathetic to the reasons for my choice of the ANC i.e. the capacity for armed struggle, global networks to isolate the apartheid regime, a presence and deep roots in the hearts of millions of South Africans. He understood that if you were serious about change, the ANC could appear to be a natural home. He never judged me as (what many of my comrades in the ANC\/UDF called) the \u201cultra left\u201d did.<\/p>\n
At\u00a0Oupa\u2019s vigil on the evening before the funeral, as his closest comrades and family members reminisced spontaneously and informally,\u00a0I learnt a few new things. Igshaan spoke about how\u00a0Oupa and his comrades were organising the opposition\/alternative to the UDF at the very moment when I and my comrades organised the launch of the UDF\u00a0in 1983.<\/p>\n
So here is the\u00a0third\u00a0thing. Take the time to engage with people who have a different view to yours.\u00a0Learn to\u00a0listen.\u00a0As\u00a0long as the discussion is reasoned,\u00a0logical and underpinned by compassion,\u00a0it does not matter if you win or lose the argument.\u00a0There is always much that will enrich your understanding in\u00a0an\u00a0honest exchange of ideas.<\/p>\n
He also saw that the day would arise when my movement would betray the nation and become the obstacle to progress.\u00a0The twists and turns and nuances of that lifelong argument are too much to describe now,\u00a0but who can deny that that day has come?<\/p>\n
So,\u00a0despite our differences politically our friendship never waned.\u00a0In some sense it was nourished by our differences.<\/p>\n
Apart from his prodigious intellect and theoretical rigour\u00a0–\u00a0to the best of my knowledge he is the best Marxist scholar of his generation in South Africa\u00a0–\u00a0Oupa also had an extraordinary range of practical skills.<\/p>\n
Given these abilities he could very easily have carved out a niche for himself in academia or in the high paying segment\u00a0of\u00a0the\u00a0NGO\u00a0world and still\u00a0have\u00a0maintained some fidelity to a left orientation.<\/p>\n
Instead, he dedicated his working life to keeping alive and developing institutions of the working class which stayed true to his ethical vision. That took Promethean effort and the deployment of an astonishing range of skills. Grassroots organiser, fundraiser, political strategist, publisher, festival convener, theorist, manager, HR department, general auto didact, book keeper, Marxist scholar, mentor, office and kitchen staffer. I am sure I have not mentioned it all.<\/p>\n
Oupa loved walking in nature,\u00a0our long walks in\u00a0Suikerbosrand, the exquisite meanders in the wilds or two or three times around\u00a0Zoo\u00a0Lake toward the end,\u00a0when that was all his strength would allow.
\nThese walks would be followed by breakfasts at our favourite cafes on Norwood\u00a0Main\u00a0Road or when time allowed,\u00a0deliciously prepared meals at home and on special occasions,\u00a0curries and stews\u00a0cooked\u00a0by Maria, decent red wine,\u00a0long burning fires, listening to music and \u201ccatching up.\u201d<\/p>\n
Oupa was a foodie\u00a0and one of his complaints, about our emergent Lumpen Bourgeoisie\u00a0(as\u00a0another comrade\u00a0aptly named them)\u00a0was this final insult,\u00a0\u201cThey are not even developing our national cuisine.\u00a0One of the historic tasks of an emerging bourgeoisie!”<\/p>\n
In that youth camp at Dora Falke in 1979, before Spotify and You Tube, we had one turntable and two or three albums which we would listen to over and over again. Abdullah Ibrahim for sure, Joan Baez\u00a0\u00a0and definitely \u201cMemphis Underground\u201d by Herbie Mann. \u201dBattle Hymn of the Republic.\u201d Give it a listen. It was part of the soundtrack of our youth. I listened to it recently and it still delivers decades later. During that time we developed that peculiar ability, which some friends have, of being able to listen to music in silence together. Punctuated by hmms, and aahs and exclamations of delight at a change in key or twist in a saxophone solo. Our thing, our shared passion was African jazz. And as usual Oupas\u2019 pleasure in the music was accompanied by an encyclopaedic knowledge of the origins, development, social meaning and crowning musical achievements of the genre. He could speak at length of the transfiguring impact of Dudu Pukwana, Johnny Dyani, Chris Mcgregor etc. on the European avant garde music scene.<\/p>\n
Driven by love for those who live ragged lives shorn of hope, scrabbling for a\u00a0rand here and there\u00a0to feed their\u00a0kids\u00a0as well as\u00a0those who through combinations of talent, inherited fortunes or good luck, whose hearts have been hardened through wealth into\u00a0indifference to the suffering of their neighbours,\u00a0may they know that we struggle for\u00a0all of\u00a0them.\u00a0Although he remained keenly aware of the strategic necessity of the struggle being led by the organised working class he knew that the objective of social change is to create a world for all of humanity to flourish in. He once told me,\u00a0with a wistful sadness and some scorn at the narrowing sensibility of a mutual friend who had become spectacularly wealthy,\u00a0\u201dHe thinks he is chasing money but money is chasing him\u201d. He never forgot the words of \u00a0Aime Cesaire, “…there is\u00a0a place\u00a0for all at the rendezvous\u00a0of victory.”<\/p>\n
Every generation must find its mission \u2026Oupa has the undeniable honour of having fulfilled his place in the mission of our generation.<\/p>\n
And so, the next generation confronts their own tears , finds their mission, defines the terms of struggle, battles with complex and powerful beasts.\u00a0\u00a0That new, albeit continuing, chapter emerges falteringly from the chaos and ruins of our victory and our defeat. In this age when we are no longer just physical beings, when our identity exists in the digital terrain and is shaped for better and for worse in that new country called the internet, Oupa thankfully has written.<\/p>\n
That series of\u00a0writings\u00a0will form part of the ammunition,\u00a0the bullets\u00a0and the flowers, which the next generation will draw from. Selectively and critically no doubt,\u00a0but\u00a0nevertheless\u00a0a rich resource to\u00a0draw\u00a0upon.<\/p>\n
After my daughter Rosa Maria was born Oupa would laugh at the resonance of her name\u00a0\u00a0 – “Aah the names of my favourite women \u2013 Rosa Luxemburg and Maria van Driel.”<\/p>\n
In the days after Oupas\u2019s funeral, when I was mute and quiet with bewilderment at such a calamity, as if a house in which part of my soul resides had burnt down and I was left adrift without the comforts of the familiar, Rosa Maria stopped to ask me, \u201cDad, whats the matter. Why are you so withdrawn?”<\/p>\n
I told her that I was still processing Oupa\u2019s passing and I asked her,\u00a0\u201cwhat do you remember of him?\u201d<\/p>\n
She replied, \u201cWhen we had meals at our house, when mom would go to bed and Aunty Maria would go home, it would just be the two of you talking into the night. I would sneak back into the lounge to fall asleep because you were so happy when you were together. I loved falling asleep to the two of you talking.\u201d<\/p>\n
When close friends depart, as starts to happen when you come to this season of life, for those in our 60\u2019s – you begin to learn how to tend to the wound of their absence. For many of us there will be a hole in our lives called Oupa. \u00a0An irreplaceable possibility for sharing, laughter, enquiry, debate. For those of you who were his comrades in daily activism, it is the loss of a comrade on the frontline of class struggle.\u00a0 As he settles into his new role as ancestor – of course as a classical idealist I believe in that reality\u00a0 –\u00a0\u00a0I pray that his spectre haunts anyone who exploits the labour of another.\u00a0\u00a0May every lying politician hear his scornful laugh. May his gentle ghost inspire and guide all those who continue to dream and work for a better world.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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