Gilbert Cranberg: SMUGGLED INTO SOWETO

I noted with more than passing interest that the funeral procession to honor Nelson Mandela would make a ceremonial stop in Soweto, the former all-black township near Johannesburg. I visited Soweto in the 1970s. It was a memorable visit because I was smuggled in. The smugglers were government critics who satisfied my curiosity to see Soweto by cramming me into the rear of an auto and warning me to crouch and keep my face hidden. In those days, it was illegal for whites to set foot in the black township.

Mind you, I was an American journalist out to see Soweto by visiting an American government-financed library in the township. Never mind, racial-mixing rules trumped everything in those days. Concealed in the back of that car, I became an instant advocate for Americans to see for themselves the evils of apartheid. At the time, it was popular to make South Africa a pariah and to have absolutely nothing to do with the place. I thought that was misguided when it prevented people from witnessing what can happen when racism runs amok.

South Africa at the time was a political-science freak, where a minority ruled the majority by enforcing an almost inhuman form of segregation in everyday life. You didn’t need to be a particularly perceptive observer to realize that the days of apartheid were numbered. I recommended to my friends that by all means they should visit South Africa, and not to delay as the place was certain to explode. I reckoned without the genius of Nelson Mandela.

His ability to peacefully reconcile the races must rank as among mankind’s monumental achievements.

Soweto Township