In the wake of the abolition of Apartheid, many narratives of fictional and non-fictional nature have been and continue to be published about the experiences of people serving in the military in the 1970s and 1980s. One of the most notable fictional works is André Carl Van Der Merwe’s "Moffie" (first edition published in 2006), which follows white closeted Nicholas Van Der Swart as he grows up in a conservative Christian household and is conscripted into the military at age 17. From the start, he hates the experience, describing it as being “thrown into hell [...] forced to kill people I don’t know, for a cause I don’t believe in”. Nearly thirty years later, now openly gay author and spokesman Siya Khumalo, who at the time was still in the closet, was one of many men of colour who joined the SANDF in an attempt to protect the new government that was claiming equal rights for gay people (2018). Both Van Der Merwe’s and Khumalo’s narrative are crucial to the understanding of the development in anti-LGBTQ+ sentiments in South Africa during and post-Apartheid.
Contents
1. Introduction: The South African National Defence Force
2. BeinggayintheApartheidmilitary:Legalisedtorture
3. Being gay in the post-Apartheid military: Prevailing ignorance
4. Conclusion
Works cited
1. Introduction: The South African National Defence Force
In 1952, only four years after the beginning of the Apartheid regime, the South African National Defence Force (in the following referred to as SANDF) introduced mandatory military training as part of the government’s increased militarization efforts in response to the United States declaring opposition to colonialism and France and Britain beginning to withdraw from their African colonies, leading to some African states gaining independence (Callister, 2007). The order was first executed via a drafting system, however, after the passing of the Defence Amendment Bill in 1967, a compulsory nine months of military service were required from every white South African male between the ages of 17 and 65 (Van Der Merwe, 2006; SAHO, 2020). This period was extended to twelve months in 1972 and later to 24 months in 1977, after South Africa’s neighbouring states Angola and Mozambique gained independence (SAHA, 2022; SAHO, 2020). For eight years after completion of their service, soldiers were called back once a year for up to thirty days to participate in military camps, “as more manpower was required for the government’s military campaigns” (Van Der Merwe, 2006, p. 7).
Contemporaries who underwent military conscription describe the overarching view of military service amongst white South Africans during the 1970s and 1980s as “a necessary social duty [as well as] an entirely natural male rite of passage” (Symons, 2016, p. 2). Military conscription was both rationalized and sugar coated, so that young boys would not grow up anxious at the thought ofbeing conscripted (Symons, 2016).
On the basis of the Apartheid government’s segregationist policies that favoured whites and suppressed non-white people, ridding everyone who was not “obviously white in appearance” of their rights and forcefully separating them from the “obviously white” part of the population, men of colour were neither conscripted nor allowed to voluntarily join the military (had they wished to do so; History.com Editors, 2020). Only after the fall of Apartheid in 1994, mandatory military service was abolished (Callister, 2007). Since then, voluntary military service is (theoretically) offered to all individuals above the age of 18, regardless of gender, skin colour and cultural background (Schwarz, 1996).
In the wake of the abolition of Apartheid, many narratives of fictional and non-fictional nature have been and continue to be published about the experiences of people serving in the military in the 1970s and 1980s. One of the most notable fictional works is André Carl Van Der Merwe’s Moffie (first edition published in 2006), which follows white closeted Nicholas Van Der Swart as he grows up in a conservative Christian household and is conscripted into the military at age 17. From the start, he hates the experience, describing it as being “thrown into hell [...] forced to kill people I don’t know, for a cause I don’t believe in” (Van Der Merwe, 2006, pp. 12-13). Nearly thirty years later, now openly gay author and spokesman Siya Khumalo, who at the time was still in the closet, was one of many men of colour who joined the SANDF in an attempt to protect the new government that was claiming equal rights for gay people (2018). Both Van Der Merwe’s and Khumalo’s narrative are crucial to the understanding of the development in anti-LGBTQ+ sentiments in South Africa during and post-Apartheid.
2. Being gay in the Apartheid military: Criminal prosecution
The Apartheid government was anything but supportive of people who identified as homosexual or in any other way fell outside of the heterosexual norm. Van Der Merwe’s Moffie mirrors the experiences most non-straight soldiers made during their time of service in the SANDF through the eyes of protagonist Nick. From a young age, he suffers under the hand of his father, who, through verbal and physical abuse, makes it clear to him that any nonheterosexual thoughts and behaviours are sinful and will not be tolerated in his household (Van Der Merwe, 2006). The titular term “Moffie” is used both during Nick’s childhood by his father, as well as during his years of service by officers and comrades to derogatively refer not only to men who are openly homosexual, but also to those who, to their eyes, show any kind of childish or feminine traits or behaviour (Van Der Merwe, 2006). Consequently, Nick grows up both afraid and disgusted ofhis own feelings, a fear and disgust which he carries into his adulthood (Van Der Merwe, 2006). His first year of military service, Nick spends hiding his sexual orientation, even after he develops feelings for one ofhis comrades, as he and the other soldiers are reminded time and time again what happens to those who are found out to have same-sex attractions (Van Der Merwe, 2006).
The Apartheid regime believed non-straight people to be “curable” of their romantic and sexual desires (McGreal, 2000). For this reason, they implemented Ward 22 at the Voortrekkerhoogte military hospital near Pretoria, where both soldiers as well as non-military citizens were held in order to “cure” them from their “sinful desires” (McGreal, 2000). One of the most commonly applied procedures was electroconvulsive therapy, during which people were forced to look at pictures of and fantasize about people of their own gender and then shocked until they passed out (McGreal, 2000). This procedure and others were undertaken with the goal of creating “perfectly balanced individuals who can integrate [into society], get married and have children” (Van Der Merwe, 2006, p. 220).
Despite warnings from his friend and lover Ethan that the reality of the ward is much worse than the stories they were told during their years of service, protagonist Nick chooses to visit Ward 22 (Van Der Merwe, 2006). He leaves feeling sick after seeing the patients “curled up and staring blankly at nothing” (Van Der Merwe, 2006, p. 382), and experiences nightmares about his visit, which further convinces him to hide his sexual orientation from his comrades for fear ofbeing sent to Ward 22 like so many others (Van Der Merwe, 2006).
Nick ultimately teaches himself to accept his sexual orientation and even shares it with other members of his battalion who he also believes to be gay (Van Der Merwe, 2006). However, until the end of the narrative, he keeps it from his family, as despite his aggressive behaviour towards him, he still “harbour[s] a subconscious desire to gain his [father’s] respect” (Van Der Merwe, 2006, p. 407). In the epilogue he states that his experiences became easier in his second year of service, however, he and the other gay members of his battalion continued to experience prejudices throughout their time in the SANDF and kept themselves hidden for fear ofbeing sent to Ward 22 (Van Der Merwe, 2006).
Van Der Merwe’s narrative mirrors the experiences non-straight South Africans made during their service in the 1970s and 1980s, especially the passages in which the author recounts the procedures executed in Ward 22. While some battalions provided refuge and support for queer men, a former soldier stating that “the army had whole gay battalions who they just shunted aside and let be”, many suffered under the legalised procedures advertised as aversion therapy (McGreal, 2000). In the late 1990s and early 2000s, South African gay rights groups and the medical research council commissioned a report detailing the horrors of Ward 22 and the treatment soldiers underwent during their service in the SANDF (McGreal, 2000). As part of The Aversion Research Project, former soldiers spoke in interviews about officers abusing their rank to force them into taking hormones and raping women to “cure” their homosexuality, as well as undergoing shock treatment, chemical castration, and, in at least 900 documented cases, sex change operations (Kaplan, 2001). While the allegations were denied by the leader the ward, Aubrey Levin, as well as the government, The Aversion Research Project has proven that over a period of close to two decades, individuals (including homosexual people, people who were addicted to drugs and those who denied service) were legally and systematically abused by the state’s healthcare workers (Van Zyl et al., 1999).
3. Being gay in the post-Apartheid military: Prevailing ignorance
After the abolition of Apartheid in 1994, the SANDF lost much of its influence. Partially, because the military was no longer needed to protect the regime, but mainly because during the second half of the 1990s, The Aversion Research Project uncovered the gruesome treatment of LGBTQ+ soldiers and citizens during final two decades of Apartheid (Van Zyl et al., 1999). Joining the military was from then on voluntary and (theoretically) open to anyone, although white straight males still had a much easier time serving in the force than people who identified as part of the LGBTG+ community (Khumalo, 2018). This experience is recounted in Siya Khumalo’s auto-biographical work You Have to be Gay to Know God.
Similar to Van Der Merwe’s protagonist Nick, Khumalo grows up in a Christian household which teaches him to repress any kind of feelings for people of his own gender (2018). After graduating high school in the mid-2000s, he joins the SANDF voluntarily, being neither pressured by the government nor his family, because despite the prevailing ignorance towards gay people’s rights, he “wanted to explore and defend as many facets of the government that had made this huge leap forward (the enshrinement of gay rights in the constitution) possible” (Khumalo, 2018, p. 71). Unlike the Apartheid military which was almost exclusively made up of white male soldiers, Khumalo’s battalion includes both people of colour and white people, however the soldiers are still mostly male, the only female being one trainer who is derogatively referred to as “a bitch” by the male officers (2018).
Despite his repressive upbringing, Khumalo had brought himself to accept his sexual orientation during his high school years and during his recount ofhis year of service, he writes acceptingly about the crushes he developed on some of his officers and comrades in his battalion (2018). While the military training he describes is no less rigorous compared to the training described in Moffie, the overall mood amongst the soldiers appears to be more accepting and less riddled by fear, with Khumalo describing some of the higher-ranking officers openly referring to the male conscripts’ physique and good looks (2018). One of the corporals takes a particular liking to him, spending more time examining him than any of the other conscripts (Khumalo, 2018). While, at first, the affection seems accidental, Khumalo describes that the corporal, at some point, “stops pretending he was fixing anything and outright caressed my face and neck for the sake of doing it” (2018, p. 77). The other conscripts react jokingly, asking when they would “get a room”, however, on the backhand, Khumalo recognizes that while this kind of affection is not unusual, it is not acceptable for soldiers to in any way further those affections coming from higher-raking officers (2018).
[...]
- Quote paper
- Marie Will (Author), 2022, The gay experience of soldiers serving in the South African National Defence Force during and post-Apartheid. From legalised torture to prevailing ignorance, Munich, GRIN Verlag, https://www.grin.com/document/1369014
-
Upload your own papers! Earn money and win an iPhone X. -
Upload your own papers! Earn money and win an iPhone X. -
Upload your own papers! Earn money and win an iPhone X. -
Upload your own papers! Earn money and win an iPhone X. -
Upload your own papers! Earn money and win an iPhone X.