At last, Basil February is back in his fatherland

THE KNOCK on the front door was far from gentle, and the smirking messenger of death, security policeman Johannes “Spyker” van Wyk, who was notorious as a serial human rights violator, took a sadistic pleasure in telling the family in the most hurtful and cruel Afrikaans he could muster that he was there to inform them “ons het julle vark doodgeskiet”.

The guerrilla he tried to belittle, Basil February, was one of South Africa’s most venerated liberation fighters. He, or more correctly, his mortal remains were literally locked away in an unmarked grave in Bulawayo for more than half a century. This year it was located, identified and repatriated.

On Tuesday, in his hometown of Somerset West near Cape Town, a gathering of activists joined his family at All Saints Anglican Church for the funeral service of a guerrilla who was described as unmistakably Afrikaans. The mourners represented a generational mix, including some of the men who knew February and carried arms with him. They were retired generals James April, Sandile Sejake and Wilson Nqose.

Also in the pews were former finance minister Trevor Manuel, former deputy minister of agriculture, land reform and rural development Mcebisi Skwatsha, Human Rights Commission chairperson Chris Nissen, former MK guerrilla Zelda Holtzman and a contingent from Trafalgar High School in District Six where February had excelled as a learner and emerged as a leader.

All were there to pay homage and honour the first so-called Coloured who had sacrificed his life for freedom.

Born on August 8, 1943, February’s surname declares that he was descended from slaves who were stripped of their previous identities and given the name of the month in which they were traded as surname. The former University of Cape Town medical student and Trafalgar High School learner with his friend and comrade James April, clandestinely travelled from South Africa to join the ANC’s armed wing Umkhonto we Sizwe. He used the nom de guerre Paul Petersen, which kept his parents top of mind all the time as his father’s first name was Paul and his mother’s maiden name was Petersen.

Said to be one of ANC president Oliver Tambo’s favourite soldiers, February, and also April, were among a cohort of volunteers – yes, the MK fighters as well as the Pan Africanist Congress of Azania combatants were volunteers – who received military training in Czechoslovakia.

The time time came to take the fight to the enemy , but the then Rhodesia, a white governed and equally oppressive regime as South Africa's, had to be negotiated first. February was a senior member and political commissar of the Luthuli Detachment that crossed the Zambezi River on August 2, 1967 and headed south. Bade farewell by Tambo, the guerrillas were instructed to develop a corridor through Rhodesia to South Africa. He was to be MK’s Western Cape commander.

24 years old for only eight days

It was in Rhodesia that Basil February lost his life in a gun battle eight days after he turned 24, disappearing into an unmarked grave as Paul Petersen and meant to remain anonymous forever. Zimbabwean independence gave a glimmer of hope that his remains would be located. These hopes slowly grew after 1994 when all eligible South Africa voters could finally vote together for the first time in one election for a government of their choice.

Democracy changed the narrative about the liberation struggle, and brought state recognition for some struggle heroes who gave their lives to free South Africa. February was awarded the Mendi Decoration for Bravery Gold (Posthumous) in 2003. The citation said: For bravery and valour in the face of overwhelming odds, and for sacrificing his life for his comrades and in the cause of justice, freedom and democracy.

In a poignant, moving tribute at the funeral service his younger brother Terry spoke about February, stating upfront that today’s ANC was not the movement of the people who chose exile and struggle. He remembered how as a primary school pupil he had returned home from school waving a small South African flag on the day the country became a republic. Basil burned the flag, and hurled the medal his sibling had received into the veld. By way of explanation, he said Terence would understand one day.

Basil’s death in exile traumatised his parents; his father died a broken man, and for the rest of her life his mother mourned the death of her son who was born at St Monica’s hospital in the Bo-Kaap in the winter of 1943.

Terry February said his brother would always be remembered for his engaging personality, brutal honesty, frankness, impulsiveness and impetuosity, and above all for his complete dedication to and identification with the cause of the oppressed.

He added: “He proved this by laying down his life on 16 August 1967 for the freedom we enjoy today.”

Guy Redman, head of the department of cultural affairs and sport in the Western Cape, recounted how a female clerk in Zimbabwe had in his death immortalised February. He described the woman as official, solemn and with sharp, kind eyes.

Lest we forget ...

She asked Terry about his brother as she did the paperwork. “Terry answered with the weight of years of struggle and loss resting on his shoulders.” She already had with her records relating to the death of Paul Peterson and was now “engaged in a form of restorative justice, something that should have been done 57 years ago. Setting the record straight so to speak.”

She asked for the late freedom fighter’s name and occupation as for the first time she looked up and into Terry’s eyes. He hesitated. Then the word “unemployed” slipped from his lips.

“But in that moment, it felt wrong. How could it encapsulate the life of someone who had given everything for the freedom of his people? The woman paused. Her gaze lingered on Terry, understanding washing over her face. With a firm, quiet resolve, she said, ‘Freedom fighter!’ She didn't wait for his reply. Her pen moved swiftly, marking the words onto the death certificate, immortalising Basil February not just in ink, but in truth.”

That’s who Basil February was. A fighter for freedom for all. A man who has come home and whose mortal remains were laid to rest in South African soil with those of his parents. Lest we forget. The price paid for our freedom was huge.

Today – with the government relentlessly pushing an Africanisation agenda – South Africans still live divided by race groups. And the poor has largely been left poor. It is a grievous betrayal of what Basil February believed in, fought for, and died for. And an indictment of how the ANC has squandered our prized, hard-won democracy.

♦ VWB ♦

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