LOS ANGELES TIMES INTERVIEW : Albertina Sisulu : The ‘Mother’ of South Africa’s Freedom Fighters Fights On

For more than four decades, knocks on the door of Albertina Sisulu’s four-room Soweto house after midnight could mean only one thing--the police were paying another unwelcome visit.

The late-night knocks haven’t stopped. But these days, the callers are black South Africans. Some are hungry, others touble. And they all trust that Mama Sisulu can help them.

While other leaders of the African National Congress are moving into walled homes in areas once reserved for whites, the Sisulus remain in Soweto, acting as surrogate parents for the liberation struggle. “When they knock, we just have to get up and see what we can do,” Albertina Sisulu says. “We belong to the people. This is our work. And it is better for us to be in their reach.”

That’s why Albertina, the 74-year-old wife of Walter Sisulu, has been the undisputed “mother of the nation” to four generations of black freedom fighters.

During her husband’s 26 years in prison, she raised their five children, worked as a nurse and became a leader of the anti-apartheid movement. She was harassed, imprisoned and, for 20 years, banned from traveling or speaking publicly. Now, as deputy president of the ANC’s Women’s League, Sisulu looks to the future with the same cold-eyed realism that has characterized her entire political life.

She wages an uphill battle for equality within the male-dominated congress. From her seat on the ANC’s national executive committee, she helps shape ANC strategy during these fitful times of transition, strongly supporting the recent congress decision to break off talks with President Frederik W. de Klerk’s government.

At an age when most people have long since retired, Albertina and 79-year-old Walter, ANC deputy president, both put in a full day of work at party headquarters in Johannesburg. But she sees the job as a welcome change from the past. During most of her 48 years of marriage, at least one and often three or four members of the Sisulu family were in jail, in hiding or in exile.

Today, Mama Sisulu’s family is near at hand, with a son and daughter in the ANC building and one right down the street. Max, 44, heads the ANC’s economics department. Lindiwe, 39, works in ANC security. And Zwelakhe, 42, is editor of the New Nation, an anti-apartheid weekly newspaper.

Question: The ANC has broken off talks with the government, and you were a member of the executive committee that took that decision. Was the violence your greatest concern? Or had you simply lost faith in President Frederik W. De Klerk’s willingness to relinquish power?

Answer: The deadlock was not mostly because of violence. We had decided that, even if the people were dying, we would go on with the negotiations. But the deadlock came because the government would not cooperate (in negotiations).

Q: De Klerk released your husband from prison in 1989, three weeks after his inauguration. Has your opinion about the president changed since then?

A: Back then, we thought he was a man of integrity. Of all the prime ministers of South Africa, he was the first to think of negotiating with a black person. We took his word for it. And we trusted him. We thought he was genuine.

But the attitude of the government now, and the tactics the government it is using, has changed us.

Q: What, specifically, has changed your opinion of De Klerk?

A: Two years before the ANC leaders were released from prison, the violence started in Natal. People were dying by the hundreds. The government did not lift a finger to stop it. They said it was black-on-black.

After the leaders were released, the violence spread like wildfire. Now, De Klerk blames the violence on the ANC. He says we are not able to control our supporters. How genuine was that?

Q: How do you see the current situation evolving? Do you think the government will make concessions and get negotiations going again?

A: Well, we have put forward our demands. If the government is adamant in not answering to our demands, then anything can happen. We are not going to stop pressurizing the government.

Q: After all these years of anti-apartheid struggle, what does it feel like to return to the streets, to the politics of confrontation with the current “mass action” campaign?

A: What is encouraging us is the black people of South Africa. After all these years of oppression . . . they know what they want. And they are fed up with the government.

They know this government does not want power-sharing. We will go back to the streets. We know it may cause a lot of deaths. But it’s not going to be worse than these massacres. Those have infuriated the people. The people are angry. In fact, they are asking us: “Why do you speak to a government that is murdering our people?”

Q: If the government meets the ANC’s demands, will it be difficult to convince those militant blacks to return to the table?

A: If the government responds to our demands, I think the people will be willing to go back to the table.

Q: Do you sense a high level of militancy among ANC supporters on the ground these days?

A: Because of the number of people that are now dying in the townships, I think the people are prepared to do anything, even to die.

Q: Do you think the government is directly involved in the township violence?

A: Our feeling is that even if the government is not involved, it hasn’t really worked hard enough to stop the violence. It’s the work of the government to see to it that such acts must stop. That is why we’ve got police. And, yet, in all this, nobody is arrested or convicted. They just get away with it.

Q: What will it take to stop the violence?

A: If I were President De Klerk, and I had all the power in my hands, to begin with, I would never allow anybody to go around in the township with dangerous weapons. Then, I would arm my policemen with tear gas and arrest the people who are responsible and take them into a court of law.

This would never have been allowed to happen . . . in white areas.

Q: You’ve battled racism in South Africa all your life. Do you see any signs that racism is on the decline now?

A: It will not diminish as long as the apartheid system is still here. But I must say we never thought we’d live to see the day when we had so many whites on our side. They have even joined our organization. They know what this government is doing.

Q: The ANC Women’s League has complained about sexism in the organization. How serious a problem is that?

A: I think it will take a long time for our men to be educated, because they still belong in the old-fashioned tradition of keeping women as minors. But they are meeting strong confrontation from women, particularly younger women.

We have told them, “Look, while you men were in jail and exile, you left these women with their children, struggling against apartheid.” We’ve had to fight like hens.

Q: Will it take a long time for women to get equal rights in the ANC?

A: We are not very far. For instance, the administrator of our organization is a woman. And three secretaries for the president (Nelson Mandela) are women. So that means the organization is already being run by women.

But you can still see sexism. We think they are afraid of women, afraid that we will be confrontational now.

Q: There is a respect that comes out of confrontation, though.

A: Oh, yes. And, fortunately for us, at least some of our men leaders are a bit progressive. They understand our position. And they accept us as equals, because some of us have proved that we can be equals.

Q: Do you feel equal to your husband in the organization?

A: Oh, yes. He knows that.

Q: Does he accept it?

A: My dear, you know, of all the people around here, he’s the only one--perhaps there are one or two--who are progressive. I was emancipated the day I got married. There was no question of “Go and make tea” or “Polish my shoes.” He used to wash his children and put them to bed. You know, I never felt I was a woman in the house.

Q: What is the secret of your strong relationship?

A: Well, we are both from very poor families. . . . We knew that the secret of life is give and take. So I think that is the secret.

Q: How were you able to survive during your husband’s long years of imprisonment?

A: He was not with us in the house, but to us it seemed as though he was among us all the time. When there was something that was going to be done, we discussed it among ourselves, and somebody would take it over to him. Even the daughters-in-law used to see him before they were married. When the children were still young, if they were naughty, I would write a letter and he would write a strong letter to reprimand them.

Q: It must have been very difficult raising a family in the old days.

A: The worst years was when I was under house arrest. I could not even go to my children’s schools to find out about their progress. I depended entirely on friends.

Then this name (Sisulu) used to have a stigma. My second born was admitted at Fort Hare University, and we had already prepared everything. But the day before school was to begin, we got a telegram saying his application had been unsuccessful. They had found out his father was Walter Sisulu.

Q: Was there ever a moment during all those years when he was away and you were being harassed by the police that you wondered if it was worth it?

A: It was very difficult, especially financially. And again the 10 years of my house arrest were so painful, because the police were so nasty.

But I never regretted anything. Before I married him, he was in politics. And I accompanied him to meetings and developed an interest in politics. So when I got married, I was a politician already. So we had one thing in common.

Q: What was the low point in your relationship?

A: The worst time was when I was arrested with my son, Max, under the Suppression of Communism Act. . . . I was never a Communist, but I was detained for 90 days with a child of 17.

That made me more aggressive.

A policeman came one day and said, “We’ve come to inform you that your baby at home is in the intensive-care unit at Baragwanath Hospital. If you answer our questions, we will release you.”

But the mistake they made was in telling me, “You are going to rot here.” I said, “Look, don’t make a mistake. I’m here in jail, these walls and these floors are built of the soil. You, as a foreigner, can rot in this soil, because it doesn’t belong to you. I belong to this soil. I’ll never rot in this soil. You can keep me for a hundred years.”

Q: Were they lying about your child?

A: They were torturing me. The child was not ill.

Q: Black people were jailed and harrassed in great numbers. And yet today, they don’t hate the white leaders of this country. What is it about black South Africans that gives them this capacity for forgiveness?

A: I think really we were brainwashed by the white man’s Bible. It says turn the other cheek. Forgive. And we are more Christians than anything else. I think they were clever starting with the Bible before they oppressed us.

Q: You and Walter were born Catholics. Do you still practice your religion?

A: There’s no time, my dear.