Written by Kaburu
Monday, 11 July 2011 13:03

In the north: they were the best of times, they were the worst of times. (Many, however, did not have chronometers available, so they did not know of the times at all.) In The Times we read of winds of uncertain providence howling through the Sahara, of horrors in the land of the Rising Sun and of a prince (with dubious shares in the hair department) ruining his life in an abbey filled with the countless monuments of those who, had they had access to media accreditation, would most likely have shook their heads in disbelief. And so, in retrospect, all was as it should be and as it always will be. Carpe diem.

In the south: amidst accusations of toilets with a view, taxpayer-funded nights in the One&Only and guardians of the law rubber bulleting their way into ignominy, one could be forgiven for thinking that it couldn’t get worse, that there weren’t better things to do than discuss the artistic merits of a song concerning the massacre of agriculturists. But one would be wrong. There was a real crisis brewing in the republic – in the Republic of Orania.
A republic of truly monumental monuments, it contains precisely two edifices. The first is a rendition of HF Verwoerd, in every sense a Dutchman. Perched on the only hilltop in the republic, the great architect’s intimidating four foot five tall sculpture gazes across the end result of his great vision: a dorp. This dorp’s grand dust-road avenues (Kerk and Voortrekker) lead to a central plaza at the centre of which is located a monument unique in the world.

It rears a towering 2.5m over Schalkwyk’s Panel Beater and Sports Bar. It dwarfs the Orania Vetkoek en Tert Paleis, and its convoluted spires cast a reverential shadow over the NG Kerk, Gemeente Orania, located in Tannie Botha’s house.

The 98-year-old Tannie Botha is renowned for many things, and her 15 children by three husbands (Gert, Gerhard and Gert, all departed and duly buried in the great churchyard behind Pretorius en Labuschagne: Videos and 8 Tracks) will often remind you of these.

Tannie Botha, in a fit of cultural inspiration, founded the Orania Drive-in. Here one can purchase a boerie roll and Klippies and Coke for R2.50 and then indulge in great Afrikaans films projected by her father’s 16mm projector.

Underneath the stars, next to the sheep dip, the click-click-click of the apparatus seems to keep time with the diesel generator guttering in the background. Many a romance has been kindled to the strains of Gé Korsten, as the images flickered on the two sewn-together bed sheets.

A great Afrikaner visionary, Tannie Botha did not stop with a drive-in. With staggering foresight of the need for inclusion, she inveigled the coloured township (safely located behind Verwoerd’s hill) to become extras for the Orania Dramatic Society. This esteemed company would present epic productions of, amongst other great works that flowed from her pen, Bloedrivier, Afrikaner Bo!
Her daughter Ansie, the republic’s foremost arts critic, hailed the manner in which the assembled coloureds fell so convincingly whilst playing the Zulu hordes. The reader will hopefully have become aware, by now, of the massive role that Tannie Botha played in the voortbestaan of the republic.

But academia would howl should I not mention the contribution of the great HF Verwoerd’s wife, Tannie Verwoerd. Visited by the reformed terrorist made famous by Clint Eastwood, Mevrou Verwoerd contributed to the republic by using a Mauser rifle to split in two with one single shot the ribbon opening Tannie Botha’s crowning achievement: the great monument in Orania’s central plaza. On this momentous occasion, Tannie Botha spoke forth:

“If,” she intoned, “the Afrikaner’s identity is under threat from the communist… If the Afrikaner’s identity is attacked by the godless Engelse! “If… [dramatic pause, then she reached towards the heavens] For as long as the All Blacks attack the Springbok! [An almighty roar from the crowd] “Then we shall place on this hallowed ground a monument testament to the fact that we shall not go meekly into the dark hinterland of history! We will survive! We will survive! As long as we know Afrikanerdom, we’ll always stay alive!”

And she pulled aside the old Transvaal flag covering her greatest contribution to the Republic of Orania. Still it reigns over the dorp of Orania, a sentinel facing the onslaught of darkness and savagery. A beacon protecting the last laager, it reminds the world of Tannie Botha’s greatest dilemma, namely “what is the Afrikaner’s identity?”

In the middle of Orania stands a 2.5m tall concrete koeksister.