This article was published in The Times, 4 September 1991, in the ‘Johannesburg Notebook’ column by Gavin Bell.
To his pleasant surprise, Tom Sharpe has not been shadowed by suspicious characters in porkpie hats since returning to South Africa for the first time in 30 years.
The special branch policemen who bundled Sharpe out of the country for his anti-apartheid views in 1961 have either lost interest in him or improved their sartorial image. Either way, he has been left alone to savour the collapse of the institutionalised racism he lampooned in Riotous Assembly and Indecent Exposure.
Invited to attend a book fair by a liberal newspaper, Sharpe arrived in Johannesburg last week unsure of what to expect. He observes that racist attitudes die hard, but is encouraged by the freedom of expression engendered by President de Klerk’s reforms.
“The other day I was being interviewed by a local journalist, when we were interrupted by a black chap at an adjacent table who took issue with something she said, and a lively debate ensued. That would have been unthinkable when I was here last.”
Looking back in anger at the racism he saw as a social worker in the 1950s, he surveys the present with cautious optimism. “The stupidity and cruelty are still here, but I never thought there would be this relatively peaceful change — that an Afrikaner government would admit it had been defeated.
“I don’t think you will ever get rid entirely of the vile apartheid mentality. You can’t force people to like other people, but at least you can compel them to obey just laws. That may be the best one can hope for.”
Sharpe has no doubt that the bumbling Kommandant van Heerden and the kaffir-killing Konstabel Els of his first novel have modern counterparts in the South African police, but he regards the “jackasses” in uniform as an endangered species. “There are clearly elements in the security forces who see strife and chaos as being to their advantage — but sod them. What I have found interesting is that there is a general acceptance that white domination has failed and that the government is prepared to accept a society one never dreamed would exist.”
He is irritated by wealthy white South Africans who railed against apartheid but did nothing about it and emigrated to England. He calls them the Hampstead Liberation Army. “They are the ones who maintain the cultural boycott, who deprive South Africa of BBC television and British drama. They will never forgive, because they are exiles. Their allies in the anti-apartheid movement in Britain have a negative attitude; I am not sure what they want. To say whites have no role in the new South Africa is as racist as claiming Jamaicans have no right to live in Brixton.”
He insists he has come to listen and learn, not preach. “I think the notion of the writer as a prophet is a lot of codswallop. I wouldn’t mind meeting de Klerk and Mandela to find out the score, not to offer advice. They are busy men, why should I waste their time?”
Sharpe has no plans to write a farcical sequel to his early novels on South Africa, but he is tape-recording conversations because he might want to write something. Pretoria assured him this week that he would be granted a residence permit if he cared to apply for one. “Providing the reform process continues, I can’t see why not. If Mandela can live in this country, so can I.”