Under the Great Council that ran the settlement, defining its key principles and mores, were the Burgerrade, or district councils of the volk, then the Boerevrou, Boer Women’s groups, and Boerejeug, youth groups. During the Great Famine years of the third and fourth decades of the new millennium these activists saved thousands of lives, distributing maize and potatoes from flat- bed trucks to the disparate satellite settlements who had banded together for defence as the swarming black menace became even more dangerous during times of ever-worsening economic hardship. The complete failure of the ANC government to organise any relief through its own logistics apparatus forced the Boer’s hand. No longer would they stand by and watch white children begging on the side of the road while stories of government lackeys dining on glistening pork circulated on social media. Occasionally there were gun battles and people were killed and injured, mostly Hottentots coming to raid when they knew food was being delivered to a white township. And although the losses were high, slowly other Boer homelands began to take shape and became defensible behind natural topographic features and bristling barbed wire.
Afrikaans was the official language but English was tolerated, though an occasional condescending smile would rise at some Anglican word or phrase. At the centre of Orania’s community field, Dirk van der Hoff’s Four Colour flag, first flown in 1857, and proudly acknowledged once again, flapped in the on-rushing breeze. The replicated colours of the Old Dutch flag complimented by a strip of green running brazenly down the left hand side, representing the fertile land of the beloved Transvaal. Tradition and continuity, not moribund sterility, was the central ethos of Orania. New ideas, systems and philosophies were tested and adopted and if they proved successful and attractive, were advanced to sister colonies. Since its inception in the Northern Cape, Vluytjekraal, the place of reeds, determined its own currency, using the Ora, an exchange mechanism independent of the globalist usurer’s banks, to buy and sell goods.
The original encampments had grown from five hundred hectare settlements, mainly clustered in Kliengeluk, Gootdorp and Orania West, into a hub-and-spoke community stretching far into the original South African state. They had soon developed economic trading zones between their settlements comprised of eco-friendly Aardskepe homes that used solar boilers and straw bale outbuildings. There was no sense of oppression or control, other than for the binding loyalty that experience had already cemented in the people’s minds. That sense of self-sufficiency, selfwerksaamheid, and ethnic loyalty which was key to their survival in the face of the hostile world surrounding them.
Decades of failed liberal dogma about turning the other cheek, a noble Christian trait these proud people now found hard to live up to, had taught them one clear lesson: you must protect your families from the predators that come in the night, and in overwhelming numbers by day. Listen out for the baying of animals waving their sticks and throwing stones. Those that would steal from you everything that you have made, built and created by the skills of your own hand. Thugs who would make claim to what was yours, and contrive to justify their savage actions, by using the term racism and shouting ‘Bigot!’ at the top of their voices.
←→
Gijs particularly enjoyed the Easter Sunday laerskool ceremonies at the Christelike Volks-Onderwys. There, the homeschoolers, the selfgedrewe, joined with their fellows, listening to fair-haired, straight-backed children reciting poetry in the proper Germanic Afrikaans of their forefathers, and performing Bach or Brahms to enraptured audiences.
Eelskje would lean in to him and whisper that she would love to give birth to his child before too many moons passed. They mixed with proud parents under the traditional South African flag with the image of a young boy transposed across its centre, eating koeksisters, and listening to how Orania’s education committee were planning to reconstruct the great higher education system that had once been populated by alumni from Stellenbosch, Bloemfontien, Potchefstoom, Pretoria and Rand Universities. He felt proud that his community aspired once again towards excellence in science, engineering and mathematics and were appropriately dismissive of the theories and notions of those who preached about a Black African Renaissance from their ramshackle temples across the water.
Sonnenwende
So under that bleaching African sun the Herrenvolk raised their barns once again, stored their grain, planted their seed and tended their crops, even amidst the tumult and the chaos raging all about them. From east to west and north to south the land was filling with corn, wheat and sorghum running from horizon to horizon.
Across the Transvaal, in Natal, south of the arc between Stellenbosch and Richards Bay, fair-haired families flourished, bronze-skinned women carried pink-limbed children on their firm round hips. Strong blonde men with burnished muscles drove tractors, rounded cattle and rode out on stormjaer patrols. RF rifles slung over their broad shoulders, their sharp eyes watching over their newly liberated land from under the felt brims of dusty grey riding hats.
A network of new Voolkstaats were rising once again in the face of adversity. The dreams of a generation, built upon the bones of their ancestors, an ideal coming to fruition centuries after the first germination took root in Africa’s sun-blasted soil. Between the Atlantic and Indian oceans the warm winds of change were indeed sweeping over the continent, but this time the stink of the fetid Kraal was clearing, and the scent of acacia trees tended by skilful and hardworking hands was sweetening the air.
We say like the Voortrekker of yore, we can still struggle... We shall keep on fighting for the survival of the white man at the tip of southern Africa and the religion which has been given to him to spread here. And we shall do it just as they did! Man, woman and child. We shall fight for our existence and the world must know it... We are not fighting for money or possessions. We are fighting for the life of our people...
— Verwoerd
EINDE
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