Media : The Talk of S. Africa Is Lively ‘Talk at Ten’ : The crisis in black and white is aired nightly on the country’s first political call-in program.

It’s 11:13 p.m. in Radio 702 Land and thousands of people out there in the townships and the suburbs and the heartland of South Africa are getting ready for bed with their radio dials tuned to John Robbie’s voice.

In a soundproofed room deep inside a downtown office building, Robbie, a former rugby star, is talking rapid-fire into a large microphone. He’s in his working position: leaning back in a swivel chair, his white socks and brown wingtips perched on the table in front of him.

“Let’s talk to Whitey on Line 4,” Robbie says. “Go for it, Whitey.”

“I don’t think there’s any place for any black in South Africa,” Whitey says. “Especially not for Mr. Mandela or . . . the black people with the big mouths.”

“Where should they go, Whitey?”

“I think they must be killed, John.”

“Killed?”

“Killed, yeah.”

“Executed?”

“Yeah. I think if Nelson (Mandela) or Chris Hani (the African National Congress military chief of staff) were executed, then the biggest part of the problem in this country will be over.”

“Look,” Robbie says, “I’m fascinated by your viewpoint. But do you seriously, seriously, seriously see that as any way to look at the future? Isn’t that total lunacy?”

“I don’t think so, John.”

“Whitey, I appreciate your call. It scares the wits out of me. But thank you very much indeed.”

It’s now 11:18 p.m. in Radio 702 Land. Robbie takes a sip of coffee, his fourth cup in the last hour. He can feel the momentum of the show shifting. More callers are waiting on the five phone lines. Untold numbers of others are trying to ring through.

Things are just starting to heat up on Radio 702’s “Talk at Ten.” And it’ll get even hotter before John Robbie bids farewell at midnight, which is just how he likes it.

“Talk at Ten” is a first for South Africans--a no-holds-barred political call-in show. And in less than eight months it has become one of the most talked-about and contentious two hours of radio in the country, quadrupling the audience during its weeknight time slot.

Although as maddening and frustrating as South Africa itself, “Talk at Ten” offers the only forum in which ordinary whites and blacks in the country can listen to each other. On any given night, listeners are treated to the great span of political thinking, from left-wing black revolutionaries to right-wing white racists as well as a not-so-silent majority of worried South Africans, both black and white.

Few callers go away unchallenged by Robbie, a 34-year-old with blue eyes and a stubbly crew cut who oversees the nightly melee like a rather opinionated college professor who’s addicted to caffeine.

“I just treat it as if I’m having a drink with the listener in a bar and we’re talking politics,” Robbie said. “If he makes a point that I think is nonsensical, I’ll say, ‘That’s rubbish.’ ”

That makes Robbie a rarity in South Africa. Even at Radio 702, the country’s only independently owned radio station, talk-show hosts have grown accustomed to gently steering callers away from hard-core political discussions. And few tell callers, as Robbie did good-naturedly the other day, “Cut the nonsense and get to the point or I’ll cut you off.”

At first Robbie’s willingness to express his own opinions, including a strong opposition to apartheid, took many listeners by surprise. Robbie and the show’s producer, Alan Matthews, received several death threats during the first few months.

“Some people seemed to have a problem with the idea that a talk-show host might not be totally neutral,” said Matthews, a 26-year-old former schoolteacher. “John isn’t shy to say what he thinks about apartheid. But he also doesn’t let people who agree with him get away with their views.”

The number of death threats dropped eventually and Robbie says he gets far less abuse today, even though unwelcome calls at home have him planning to change his unlisted telephone number for the second time since May.

“There was an initial shock among people, but I detect that maybe they’ve grown with the show,” Robbie said. “And maybe I’ve softened a little bit.”

No one at Radio 702 knew exactly what to expect when it set aside time four nights a week for open political discussions and put Robbie, its popular sports editor, in charge. Politics in apartheid South Africa can be a fiery, deadly arena.

“It was a risk,” station manager Rina Broomberg said. “But its instant success indicates to us that people really need to talk.” Nevertheless, she admitted, “sometimes when I listen to the show, I still get a little nervous.”

“Talk at Ten” is broadcast across a wide area of South Africa that includes Johannesburg and Pretoria as well as townships such as Soweto, Sebokeng and Alexandra. The station’s market research suggests that many of the estimated 30,000 listeners, 20% of whom are black, believe that the program is helping them understand, for the first time, how their political opponents think.

Robbie usually selects a topic for the night and occasionally he invites a guest. When Communist Party chief Joe Slovo went on the show a few weeks ago, the phone lines were full 20 minutes before the program started.

That night Robbie fended off one angry caller, a member of the far-right Boer State Party, by inviting a representative of his party onto the show. Many right-wing whites refuse to speak anything other than Afrikaans and generally detest what they view as the liberal English-speaking news media.

But two weeks later, two of the most militant right-wing whites in the country were in the studio with Robbie to describe, in English, their vision of a separate white state.

And last week Robbie asked his listeners to comment on the right-wing’s desire for a separate white homeland for Afrikaners inside South Africa.

“I must say, straight away, to nail my colors to the mast, that I feel the idea . . . borders on lunacy,” Robbie said in opening the show. “Can people seriously expect the (black) majority to accept having no rights in a large part of what they regard as their country?

“Anyway that’s my view, for what it’s worth. Tonight we want to know how you feel. And the lines are open.”

The show began slowly. Matthews, the producer, fielded plenty of calls from listeners, but everyone seemed to agree with Robbie. It was all pleasant and friendly. But it wasn’t good radio.

“It’s a little one-sided,” Robbie admitted during a commercial break. “But I think there are people out there, listening and getting angry. We’ll hear from them in the second hour.” He was right.

At 11:06 p.m., Peter came on the air.

“Peter, you there? Go for it,” Robbie said.

“I feel first of all that reform is going too fast,” Peter said.

“Too fast? In what way?”

“Let me put it to you this way: I’m not a racist, but. . . . “

Robbie laughed. “I’m always very suspicious of people who say that. Convince me.”

“All of a sudden everybody wants one man, one vote,” Peter said. “But do you for one moment think any Zulu wants to be ruled by a Venda?”

“Surely you’re not giving people much credit for intelligence, Peter. For you to stand there and say it (democracy) can’t work in a black country is arrogant beyond belief.”

“But we (whites) are in the minority at this stage.”

Robbie thanked Peter for his honesty and moved on.

“Let’s talk to Jennifer on Line 2. Jen, are you there? Good evening to you. Go for it.”

“I am a right-winger and I’m not ashamed of it,” she said.

“I’m not suggesting you’re ashamed of it,” Robbie replied with a laugh.

“I’m not going to make excuses about not being a racist or whatever . . . I’m not going to fall into that.”

“So are you saying you are a racist?”

“What?”

“I’m just wondering.”

“Well, are you a racist, John?”

“No, I’m not.”

“But you’re very biased, John. You’ve got a very good show going, but I think you should be a bit more neutral.”

“Neutral in what way?”

“You tend to be very pro on the black side and anti the white side.”

“The difference between you and me, Jennifer, is that I don’t see a black side and a white side.”

“Well, that’s not my point. My point is that wouldn’t it be easier to move a group of people who think the same and want to live the same out of the way (into a separate homeland) and let the rest of South Africa get on with that they want to do?”

“That’s a wonderful thought, Jennifer, but the problem is when you start drawing boundaries. Where would you draw it?”

“I would leave that up to Dr. (Andries) Treurnicht,” referring to the Conservative Party leader.

“Jennifer, nice sidestep. But thank you for your honesty.”

As Robbie’s energy began to soar, producer Matthews, watching from outside the booth, smiled.

“John must have been horrible to control as a child,” Matthews said.

In fact, Robbie’s ancestry is frequently under fire from right-wing callers. He’s an Irish father of two, and he came here in 1980 and again in 1981 as part of the touring British rugby team. Before leaving Dublin the second time, though, he quit his job with Guinness Breweries because his bosses told him he couldn’t tour South Africa.

He was offered a marketing job in Johannesburg and stayed, playing rugby for Transvaal Province. Robbie’s wholesome features, easy charm and willingness to break the international sports boycott by competing in South Africa made him a favorite of sports-mad South Africans, including many conservative white Afrikaners.

He retired from rugby two years ago and joined the radio station as a sports reporter and host of a Saturday evening sports program. “Talk at Ten” was his first move out of sports, and he’s not sure how long it will last.

“I’m flying by the seat of my pants,” Robbie said. “But Alan and I just do what we see fit. Maybe we break a lot of rules, but it seems to work. The whole thing is not contrived, which is the one rule we have. And we’ve never once had to play music (for lack of callers).”

Revealing his politics has dismayed plenty of conservative sports fans, but Robbie has still managed to keep them listening--and talking.

At 11:30 p.m., Robbie is asking a conservative white caller named Jack about his vision of the future.

“If the blacks can be terrorists, whites can also be terrorists,” Jack said. “And I tell you what, whites can be helluva terrorists. Whites are not scared of nothing.”

“It seems to me you’re scared of nothing except maybe negotiating a future with black people,” Robbie said.

“Listen, my friend, read your paper and see how many of our white old people get murdered (by blacks), and then come back to us and say there’s peace with these people.”

“You’re saying all black people are murderers?”

“No, but just look at how many of our white people get murdered every day.”

“I think we must look at how many black people are murdered, Jack. I think we should look at a solution where all the murders stop.”

At 11:33 p.m., Ben is on the line.

“I’m so depressed, John. The last three callers are wrecking my appetite. I’m a black man, but the way I perceive the situation is much different. A separate white state can never work.”

“Why not?” Robbie asked. “Why not have two separate countries, negotiate boundaries and give it a crack. If that avoids a bloody civil war, isn’t it worth examining?”

“No, John. How can you examine a solution that has already failed?”

At 11:46 p.m., Sonya is calling.

“John, I’m an Afrikaner, and I feel like crying. I just want to especially reach out to blacks tonight and tell them that I love them as fellow South Africans, and that I want to take their hand and build a better future.”

“I think that is a lovely call, Sonya. The importance of this show is that (right-wing) people at least put forward their honest views. And there’s no point in pretending those views don’t exist.”

“I just want to tell people out there listening that they (right-wingers) are not the majority of the people.”

“Thanks, Sonya. Let’s go to Pat on Line 3.”

“John, I want to know when Radio 702 is going to start paying for my high-blood-pressure medication, which I’ll be needing shortly after many more of these programs.”

Robbie laughed. “I wonder when they’re going to start paying for mine, Pat.”