A Quest for Truth: The Unresolved Legacy of South Africa’s Cradock Four
In the heart of South Africa, the small town of Cradock stands as a solemn reminder of an era shrouded in pain and injustice. Amidst its windswept cemeteries, the neglected graves of four anti-apartheid activists tell a story that has long yearned for closure. These four men, brutally assassinated by the apartheid regime, have left a legacy that continues to resonate through South Africa’s quest for truth and justice.
The Cradock Four: A Chapter in History
The year was 1985, a time when South Africa was ensnared in the throes of apartheid’s oppressive grasp. It was during this turbulent period that Fort Calata, Matthew Goniwe, Sicelo Mhlauli, and Sparrow Mkhonto – the Cradock Four – were murdered. Their deaths became a symbol of the ruthless attempts by the regime to silence those who dared to demand equality and justice.
Fast forward to today, and the shadow of these events still stretches across South Africa’s landscape. In the bustling city of Gqeberha, once known as Port Elizabeth, a courtroom inquest has been reigniting the embers of unresolved grief and unhealed wounds.
A Family’s Search for Justice
Forty years may have passed, but for the families of the Cradock Four, time hasn’t healed all wounds. Lukhanyo Calata, a journalist and son of Fort Calata, was just a child when his father didn’t return home that fateful night in June. Sharing his anguish, Lukhanyo expresses his determination for justice. “We are not going to rest in this matter until there is some form of justice,” he told reporters in Gqeberha. His words echo the unwavering resolve that has become synonymous with this family’s plight.
For Nomonde Calata, the pain is personal and profound. Pregnant when her husband was murdered, she recalls the hopelessness that engulfed her. “I couldn’t show the enemy my pain because they would laugh at me,” Nomonde bravely recounts during the inquest, her voice heavy with emotion.
History’s Unyielding Grip
The history of the Cradock Four is one of agony exacerbated by a justice system that, for decades, has failed them. The first inquest in 1985, conducted in Afrikaans, a language many families did not understand, yielded no clear answers. A subsequent inquiry in 1993 confirmed police involvement but named no individuals, leaving families in a limbo of uncertainty.
In a bid to bring to light the truths obscured by time, South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, led by Archbishop Desmond Tutu, found involvement by six police squad members but denied them amnesty. Yet, justice evaded the families as follow-up actions remained elusive, leaving questions unanswered and wounds unhealed.
Hope Amidst Pain
The resurgence of the inquest brings a glimmer of hope to these families, as they anticipate more than just empty words. For the first time, relatives have the opportunity to testify, their voices broadcast live, giving the world a glimpse into their enduring heartbreak.
Revisiting the scene where the Cradock Four were ambushed—a place now haunted by memories—families hope this inquest will be different. As Nomonde Calata poignantly states, “He robbed me of the love of my husband, he robbed the children of the love of their father. I will not and did not forgive.”
Broader Implications and Questions
The story of the Cradock Four isn’t just a South African tragedy—it’s a reflection on how societies reconcile with their past. Why, three decades after apartheid’s end, have so few perpetrators been held accountable? Are we witnessing a systematic failure, or something more sinister? The complexities of such questions underscore the ongoing struggle within South Africa to confront its own history.
With South African President Cyril Ramaphosa initiating a judicial inquiry into the delayed prosecutions of apartheid-era crimes, and another court case pursuing compensation, there’s a renewed vigor for justice.
Seeking Closure
In the small town of Nxuba, formerly known as Cradock, residents hold onto memories of the four activists who once walked their streets. Sibongile Mbina Mbina, someone who learned under these men, shares the community’s sentiment: “It’s painful because it has been quite a long time… How did our family member die?”
Their calls for truth aren’t just about retribution; they’re about closure—an essential step for the community’s healing and understanding.
Their plea echoes across South Africa: “The truth must come out… they must face what they have done,” Mawonga Goniwe insists, capturing the collective cry for reconciliation and restoration.
This ongoing inquest may well be a turning point, not just for the families of the Cradock Four, but for a nation striving to come to terms with its past. As South Africa moves forward, it must ask itself: in seeking justice, how can it build a more unified future?
As we reflect on these questions, the story of the Cradock Four serves as a powerful reminder of the resilience needed to face our darkest histories and the enduring human spirit that demands both truth and justice.
What lessons can the rest of the world learn from South Africa’s journey towards reconciliation? How do we ensure that the cries for justice today pave the way for peace tomorrow?
By Ali Musa
Axadle Times international–Monitoring.
