Memories of the Langa Massacre — A personal account

In what has become known as the “Langa Massacre” on March 21 1985 — the 25th anniversary of Sharpeville Day — the apartheid police brutally fired into a peaceful crowd of workers and community members protesting against the police proclamations determining when funerals could take place.

The 1970s and 1980s were turbulent years in the lead-up to 1994, when, signalling the demise of the hated apartheid system, the country’s first democratic elections were held.

The nascent trade union movement, emboldened by the success of the Durban strikes of 1973, sought to bring together all oppressed workers across the artificially created colour lines.

The Durban strikes indicated a turning point in the anti-apartheid struggle.

They also marked a watershed moment as the trade union movement began to flex its muscles against apartheid through mass mobilisation.

From the late 1970s into the 1980s, my comrades and I were in close contact with members of the burgeoning trade union movement. 

Most social activists began to frequent trade union offices.

In the Port Elizabeth/Uitenhage (Gqeberha/Kariega) area, regular meetings were held at the TU offices.

In 1984, the National Automobile and Allied Workers Union (Naawu) and its umbrella body the Federation of SA Trade Unions (Fosatu) participated in and largely sponsored the successful 1984 mass anti-election boycott campaign against the tricameral parliament, which resulted in the demise of the most unwanted and unloved (“coloured”) Labour Party in the world.

Sporadic school boycotts became the order of the day across the Eastern Cape and indeed South Africa.

Pupils protested against Bantu-ised and coloured-ised inferior, gutter education.

On August 26 1984, representatives of the SRCs in Uitenhage met at Tinara High School.

Ebrahim Wicomb and I addressed the pupils, urging them to return to classes.

A hiatus in the boycotts lasted for a day or two, after which the pupils came out boycotting again.

The first quarter of 1985 proved tumultuous as the Labour Party, in reprisal for their demise in the 1984 tricameral elections, and in control of “coloured” education, transferred three teachers from Uitenhage (John Walton High) to places that were merely dots on the map.

We mobilised the community, and in particular Naawu/Fosatu, to support the three teachers.

This resulted in further boycotts at schools, and then the primary schools joined in.

Mass meetings were held in Port Elizabeth and Uitenhage as not only trade unions but also parents supported the pupils and transferred teachers.

Pupils in KwaNobuhle demanded the resignation of the collaborators of the community councils.

The Coloured Management Committee members were boycotted out of existence.

At Uitenhage High, boycotting pupils went on the rampage as police sjamboked them.

Some children were left scarred for life.

Shooting incidents increased by the day and a number of people, including pupils, were killed. Funerals, attended by thousands of people, were banned during weekends, angering the community.

Funerals were the only time communities could get together, where fiery political speeches and calls for unity were made.

Regular meetings were held at the Naawu offices to discuss the political climate in the townships.

Prominent among those who attended were Fred Sauls, general secretary of Naawu, Jurie Harris, the president of Naawu for 14 consecutive years, the late Freddie Mququ, Daniel Dube, who later became the first president of Numsa, committee members Koos Goliath and the late Aunt Non McCarthy, and the late John Gomomo, who became the president of Cosatu.

They all played a critical role in shaping the future of the TU movement.

This was the background leading up to the massacre of March 21 1985.

On March 20, the Naawu/Fosatu leadership called a meeting.

The community had decided that one mass funeral would take place on March 23.

The police had given orders that burials had to take place on three consecutive days.

Naawu/Fosatu indicated they would call for a stayaway on March 21 and 22 if the mass funeral could not be held on March 23.

In defiance, Langa residents  marched 10km to KwaNobuhle to protest against the draconian decrees issued by the police.

Fearing for the safety of residents Naawu/Fosatu used loudspeakers mounted on a car to inform them that the march had been cancelled.

Apparently, much later, they were informed by others in a vehicle with a loudspeaker that the march was on.

On the morning of March 21, some 5,000 marchers were given a warning to disperse, but were promptly fired upon without further warning.

The official report is that 21 people were shot dead that day and scores injured.

Joseph Barry, an ambulance driver who transported the deceased and injured to hospital, however, said about 40 bodies were in the mortuary that day.

After giving evidence to the Kannemeyer Commission — which found that the police could not be blamed for issuing an order to open fire despite the majority of the protesters being shot in the back — Barry was dismissed from the ambulance service.

At about 10am on the morning of March 21, I was addressing our school’s student body when we heard gunshots.

I immediately knew what was happening and could see the fear in the children from Langa.

To say this was traumatic for them would be a monumental understatement. 

While tragic, the events of March 1985 at Langa signalled another nail in the apartheid system’s coffin.

This piece was written by Hamilton Petersen in consultation with Jurie Harris, a comrade in the anti-apartheid struggle.

The Herald