Aug 29, 2009
The fine red dust hanging over Quibaxe village in Angola’s Bengo province is irritating President Jacob Zuma’s sinuses. He takes out a hanky to blow his nose, politely asking the bustling wedge of journalists and photographers at the foot of the veranda from which he is speaking for a few seconds’ break before doing so.
We do the respectful thing and oblige. Zuma continues with his wrap-up press conference . It’s a touching, human moment in Zuma’s first state visit since taking office. The visit itself has been an emotionally charged show of gratitude that has been more about respect than anything else.
The trip has delivered big time on the money end. Six framework agreements governing business and diplomatic relations between the two countries have been struck, and a major oil refining and distribution deal between the two state petroleum companies announced.
There has been a two-day conference between organised business from both sides and a mass of behind-the-scenes deals struck on its sidelines: dollars and rands will flow.
Since arrival at Luanda’s Quatro de Fevereiro International Airport on Wednesday night — August 19 — Zuma’s visit has been a pilgrimage honouring the Angolans and South Africans whose sacrifices led to him being able to return as South African head of state to Angola, one of the front-line states where he served as a leader of the ANC’s military wing, Umkhonto weSizwe, in the ’80s . Thabo Mbeki did not go to Angola on a state visit, which both reflected and contributed to tense relations between the countries during his time in office.
It’s the Jacob Zuma Respect Tour, kicking off at Luanda’s Independence Square, where he lays a wreath at the monument to António Agostinho Neto, founding president of the Angolan republic. It’s the right thing to do: it was Neto who, after shared exile in Tanzania with ANC icon Oliver Tambo, opened Angola up to the ANC’s guerrilla army from 1975, allowing them to set up training camps throughout the country.
This solidarity cost Angola dearly, sparking constant raids and invasions by the apartheid SA Defence Force and prolonging the war with Unita. Zuma earnestly acknowledges the debt to Angola with every public utterance.
He and his entourage move to the Santa Ana Cemetery to lay another wreath, this time at the memorial to the Angolans, South Africans and Cubans who died in the nation’s civil war, which only ended in 2002 with the death of Unita leader Jonas Savimbi.
Along the route to Santa Ana, thousands of Angolans line the road — not to see the blue-light spectacle, but because they are waiting to cross over and go about their Thursday morning business. They are still waiting there, with traffic gridlocked in the opposite lane, when the cavalcade leaves the cemetery and passes again, en route to the presidential palace at Cidade Alta on the hill overlooking Luanda’s waterfront.
The respect Zuma shows is clearly not mirrored by the Angolan government in its dealings with its own citizens.
In the receiving line at the palace , it is all pomp and ceremony, red carpets and marching soldiers in dress uniform.
The event is thick with contrasts .
President José Eduardo dos Santos, a serial divorcee, is accompanied by his 40-something trophy wife, Ana Paula. Zuma, a polygamist, is flanked by his first wife, Sizakele . Zuma, whose lack of financial acumen dominated headlines for years during Schabir Shaik’s corruption trial, sports a shaved head and plain suit; Dos Santos, said to be Angola’s richest man, is all suave playboy Italian threads and designer haircut.
Zuma was propelled into office by the ANC’s rejection of an extended term of office for Thabo Mbeki; Dos Santos has ruled since Neto’s death in 1979, and his MPLA wants to change the electoral system in a bid to extend his tenure.
From there it is inside to a meeting of the 11-a-side Angolan and South African ministerial teams, before Zuma moves to the national assembly to address Angolan lawmakers.
Here Zuma is on song, his tightly crafted speech a tribute to Angola’s role in the South African liberation struggle and the price the nation paid for its solidarity.
“We remember that Umkhonto weSizwe cadres were free to walk around the streets of Luanda armed, manning roadblocks as if they were Angolans. This was their home.
“We will tomorrow travel to our erstwhile camps at Quibaxe. The visit is bound to revive both the painful memories of life in exile as well as remind us of the support and hospitality we received from the Angolan people, which made it all bearable.
“The people and leadership of Angola suffered immensely through destabilisation, but they never sacrificed comradeship and principle. We thank you for your resolve, dedication, commitment and comradeship.
“The South African democratic victory in 1994 was a victory of the Angolan people. Our success is your success because you contributed so immensely to our freedom. That we shall never forget.”
Then it is back to the palace for signing ceremonies in the Blue Room, and a press briefing. Throughout, Zuma is deferential to Dos Santos, endorsing his answers with a laugh and asking journalists: “Do you want me to say more than His Excellency?”
A state dinner follows, and Zuma is off to the business conference at the Talatona Conference Centre in the plush suburb known as “Luanda’s Sandton”.
Later that night, Zuma’s ministers trickle into the Hotel Tropico, the South African delegation’s operations centre. They are remarkably relaxed. There are no bodyguards, and they appear genuinely pleased to see fellow countrymen, even if they are journalists .
The next day sees a four-and-a-half-hour convoy drive to Quibaxe to pay respect to MK’s dead at Pango Camp. It’s a hard journey: the road claims three vehicles; a kombi of businessmen picks up the strays from the road side.
Pango is a bold, if pragmatic, choice. The short-course, specialist training camp was the scene of a bloody mutiny in 1986 by MK members angered by the delay in getting to the front-line back home. The mutiny was ruthlessly crushed within a day. Pango was also the scene of an ambush by Unita troops, which claimed the lives of 26 South African combatants. The victims of both actions are buried in the area.
Pango is chosen because it is one of the few grave sites of South Africans which has been cleared of mines. MK camps were moved to Uganda after the battle of Cuito Cuanavale in 1988. Graves were flattened and surrounded with minefields to prevent Unita and the SADF from desecrating them, as they did during the pull-out on the eastern and northern fronts.
Walking towards the grave site, where Zuma lays another wreath, delegation members are constantly shepherded away from the bush: it is still strewn with land mines.
The convoy moves off to nearby Quibaxe, the regional capital which, in its own way, is a little slice of South Africa . Locals shout greetings in Zulu and Portuguese. The village was, in part, built by MK guerrillas, who also defended it against Unita attacks.
The main street is lined with people in MPLA T-shirts, waving party flags. Dos Santos’s image is on every door. Zuma is received by a group of school children singing Angolan and South African liberation songs. He greets them with a laugh and quips: “We taught them these songs.”
Zuma addresses a rally. He is totally at home, pronouncing Angolan names the Portuguese way, thanking the community, pledging reciprocal respect and loyalty for their contribution, wishing that “many more South Africans could have come here” to share in paying respect.
Then it is the long haul back to Luanda for the official goodbyes and the flight home.
Zuma’s support team, for which the first state visit was a massive test, remains behind to dismantle its machinery.
Mainly young, enthusiastic and new to work at this level, they are a far cry from Mbeki’s haughty outfit.
Like their boss, they treat people firmly but with decency — not as though they are a bunch of wallet snatchers. Like their boss, they know about respect.
thetimes
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