What to read (and listen to) about South Africa 

SOUTH AFRICA has three capital cities; 11 official spoken languages, five of which figure in the national anthem; and 60m people who agree about little save for the brilliance of the national rugby team. It is a state with many nations. Choosing books about this bewilderingly diverse country is a fiendishly difficult job. White-run governments deliberately undereducated and silenced blacks, shrinking the pool of potential scribes. In a land of storytellers, most people have not been able to tell their own stories to a broad reading audience. The easy way out would be to pick books that tell a simple version of the country’s narrative, the Hollywood tale of redemption in which Nelson Mandela transcends the evil of apartheid, forgives whites for their sins and ushers in the rainbow nation. But South Africa is more complicated than that. And the shine has long disappeared from the rainbow. These books—and one audio series—should help readers appreciate this country of many stories.

Diamonds, Gold and War. By Martin Meredith. PublicAffairs; 592 pages; $25.99. Simon & Schuster; £10.99

It is impossible to understand modern South Africa without appreciating the role of colonialism, mining and war in its formation. In the late 19th century the southern tip of Africa was a patchwork of British colonies, African kingdoms and republics run by Afrikaners (whites mostly of Dutch descent). British politicians thought it a backwater. Everything changed with the discovery of diamonds in 1867 and, two decades later, gold around what would become Johannesburg. These riches contributed to the outbreak of war in 1899 between Afrikaners and the British. But in the wake of the “Anglo-Boer” or “South African” war, which ended in 1902, the two white tribes put aside some differences. In 1910 they established the union of South Africa—a state in which blacks were systematically discriminated against and denied civil rights. Martin Meredith’s book is a sweeping account of these pivotal decades.

The Seed is Mine. By Charles van Onselen. Jonathan Ball Publishers; 664 pages; $34 and £24

“The Seed is Mine” is the most rigorously researched and sensitive account of rural South Africa under white rule. Charles van Onselen, the doyen of South African historians, spent more than a decade piecing together the long life of Kas Maine, a black sharecropper born in 1894. Helped by Maine’s formidable memory, the author describes the bleak rhythms of his life, shaped in part by the racism and exploitation of colonialism and apartheid. He tells an epic story of a patriarch trying to maintain his livelihood, culture and dignity despite the evil and caprice of white rule. Maine and Mr van Onselen have collaborated on an astonishing chronicle of an astonishing life.

My Traitor’s Heart. By Rian Malan. Grove Atlantic; 368 pages; $17. Vintage; £12.99

Many books are called “searing”. This one really is. Rian Malan, a journalist of solid Afrikaner stock, explores deeper into the darkness of late apartheid South Africa than any other writer. While foreign correspondents were churning out books that hinted at the salvation to come, Mr Malan’s take is more bracing in its ambivalence. Drawing on his personal experiences and his first jobs as a crime reporter, he shows the stark brutality of the police, security forces and, quite often, ordinary white citizens. But it is his exploration of whites’ fears, including his own, that makes the book a classic of reportage.

Cry, the Beloved Country. By Alan Paton. Scribner; 320 pages; $17.99. Vintage; £9.99

“I have one great fear in my heart, that one day when they are turned to loving, they will find that we are turned to hating,” says Msimangu, the black churchman who acts as the moral lodestar in South Africa’s most famous work of fiction. Published in 1948, the year that the National Party came to power and set about putting into practice formal apartheid, the book traces the journey of Kumalo, a father who travels from his village to Johannesburg in search of his son. He encounters a divided city peopled by characters, black and white, who do not conform to stereotypes. Alan Paton, one of the liberal consciences of 20th- century South Africa, tells the tale with characteristic empathy.

“Mandela: the Lost Tapes”. By Richard Stengel. Available on Audible.

Few are willing to admit it, but “The Long Walk to Freedom”, Nelson Mandela’s autobiography, could also be called the “Long Slog to Chapter 115”. Mandela may have been the greatest man of the 20th century, and his life story is of course heroic, but he wrote his memoir before he became South Africa’s first black president. The book is reticent, reflecting his fear of upsetting a fragile transition from white rule. Much better to listen to the recent ten-part audio series by his ghost writer, Richard Stengel, in which the journalist presents excerpts from tapes of his interviews with Mandela, interspersing them with his own commentary. The tapes touch on topics the memoir avoided, such as Mandela’s marriage to Winnie Mandela. Not only does this offer the chance to wallow in the incomparable sonorousness of Mandela’s brogue. It also comes closer to the heart of the great man.

We Have Now Begun Our Descent. By Justice Malala. Jonathan Ball Publishers; 258 pages; $18 and $19.50

How Long Will South Africa Survive? By R.W. Johnson. Hurst; 288 pages; $27.50 and £15.99

Every week seems to bring another book about the various ways in which the African National Congress (ANC), which has governed the country since the end of apartheid, has run it into the ground. It is hard to begrudge South African journalists a pay day. Their investigative work is exceptional. But none of the dozens of books published in recent years truly captures the magnitude and multidimensional character of South Africa’s fall. Most could do with a good editor. Two exceptions, with different emphases, are by Justice Malala and R.W. Johnson. Mr Malala, perhaps the country’s most astute political commentator, was quick to spot the rot that besets all sorts of institutions across the country. Mr Johnson, a writer and academic who in the 1970s foretold the end of apartheid, is all the more perspicacious for noticing similarities between the ruling party of today and the National Party.

The Promise. By Damon Galgut. Europa Editions; 272 pages; $17.95. Chatto & Windus; £16.99

Winner of the Booker Prize in 2021, “The Promise” is the best state-of-the-nation novel since “Cry, the Beloved Country”. Damon Galgut begins the story in 1986, when the dying matriarch of a white family asks her husband to ensure that their maid is given deeds to a small plot on their farm. As the story—and the eponymous promise—unspools, the reader comes to understand the deeper meaning of the title: the sense of a country whose vast potential is being squandered. Mr Galgut is the Flaubert of the veld.  ■

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The Economist writes extensively about South Africa. We wrote a special report in 2019. Two years later we were on the ground during the worst civil unrest in the country since the end of apartheid. We have covered South Africans’ frustrations with a failing economy and asked why, under the ANC, the government is so friendly towards Russia. Not all is doom and gloom, however. We have explored the meaning of rugby to South Africans and profiled inspiring figures such as Sizani Ngubane and Chris Pappas.