A History of Namibia
by Marion Wallace
(Jacana, R199,95)
In the last chapter of her book author Marion Wallace throws down the gauntlet by inviting other historians to fill the gaps in her A History of Namibia. Quite a challenge, given the excellent job she has done with the first “scholarly history of Namibia in two decades”.
Wallace manages to chronicle the complexities of Namibia’s violent history, from its earliest times to the 19th century. The book also sheds light on the country’s darker chapters (like the Herero genocide of 1904-8); and there is certainly more than one dark chapter in the colonial history of Alte Südwest!
Then again, bone-dry and fact- riddled historical accounts like this can never capture why many Namibian Germans still get tears in their eyes when they sing about their heimat (home):
Hart wie Kameldornholz ist unser Land
Und trocken sind seine Riviere.
Die Klippen, sie sind von der Sonne verbrannt
Und scheu sind im Busch die Tiere.
Hard like Camelthorn wood is our land
And dry are its rivers
The cliffs are burnt by the sun
And shy are the animals in the bush.
It takes imagination to look beyond the facts and find the intricate nuances behind the sterile words of historical documentation. But sometimes Wallace loosens her grip on the mere registering of history and allows powerful voices to speak down the passage of time in the first person. The occasional spark of magic is to be found in such passages.
She quotes from the visionary letters of Hendrik Witbooi – the prominent indigenous leader in the south for two decades – as he records his disillusionment with Theodor Leutwein, the first architect of German power in Namibia in 1904:
“I have for 10 years stood in your law, under your law, and behind your law… All the souls which have for the last 10 years perished from all nations of Africa… without guilt or cause, without the justification of warfare in times of peace, and under treaties of peace, accuse me.”
Her book creates invaluable opportunity for individuals to map their own personal histories in the bigger context. Given my origin – half German and half Afrikaans – I found specific historical features interesting that might leave others cold. No doubt they will relate better to other elements of Namibian history, reflective of their ancestry.
It is the first time that anyone clarified how big the group of “German men and other suspected rebels” were, who by the end of 1940 were rounded up and interned in South Africa and South West Africa during World War II. While Hitler’s voice was finally stilled, the effects of his actions reverberated for German men in colonies all over the world even after the war had ended. My German grandfather was “one of the 1 220 men” in Namibia who felt the effects. He would be reunited with my mother seven years later – she was one year old when he left.
The political power struggles and resulting shifts in power make for ironic insights with the benefit of hindsight. When South African rule kicked in, my mother probably had more in common with the children of Ovambo contract workers than she could ever imagine. Wallace quotes one of these contract workers stating that when he (the father) returned from a two-year contract, “his child was already walking”:
There are interesting factual titbits for Namibians (and individuals interested in African history) throughout the book. For example, one of the best-known members of the Ovamboland People’s Congress (one of the forerunners of Swapo) was Andimba Toivo ya Toivo – who apparently served in the South African army during World War II.
It’s a comprehensive history and be warned that it takes time and concentration to wade through its 316 pages. It might not be easy holiday reading for your average tourist enjoying a Windhoek Lager and spectacular views, yet I would urge anyone to try and join the appreciative club of historians and finish the arduous journey “whatever it takes”. You may find that Windhoek’s cacophony of exotic street names guide you to some unexpected place down the passage of time – for example to Herero leaders like Samuel Maharero immortalised in Herero oral tradition and omutandu’s (praise songs).
Wallace makes mention of the famous 1925 Denver expedition to the Kalahari and the first filming and documentation of San history. About 18 years ago I also observed a Bushman trance dance in the Khaudom, north-western Namibia. I was too young to understand that I was part of filming and witnessing something exceptional – a lost tradition, subsequently much romanticised. But it is true that the San came off very badly in Namibia, shot and hunted like vermin. With so many lost opportunities in achieving a relatively early and peaceful Nambia, the Alte Sudwestlied sets a more sinister tone:
Weil unsere Sorgen überstrahlt
Der Sonne hell leuchtendes Licht.
For our sorrows overshadowed
The sun’s bright light
Rays of light are the handful of photos in the book – welcome pitstops on the way. Being well aware of Werner Hillebrecht’s treasure trove of historic photo-graphs in the immaculately kept National Archives of Namibia, I sorely missed more photographs and sketches (but then again, rather not, if it added more pages to this reading marathon).
I hope a conservationist follows Wallace’s example and compiles an equally detailed record of the impact of the “Namibian war” and the period of National Party apartheid on Namibia’s wildlife – “the shy animals in the bush”. This aspect is glaringly absent. But, from South African rule and the eventual retreat from apartheid to the perspective of archaeologist John Kinahan (who wrote the first chapter), A History of Namibia is food for thought – and when you reach page 316, you certainly deserve a cold drink on the house, while you watch the sun set.
l Linda de Jager is a Namibian-born film-maker whose last series Grensoorlog dealt with the Namibian ‘bush war’ and can currently be seen on Kyknet as well as translated as Bush War on Mzanzi.