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21 September 2023 | Story Motsaathebe Serekoane | Photo supplied
Motsaathebe Serekoane
Motsaathebe Serekoane is a Lecturer and BSocSc Programme Director, Department of Anthropology, UFS.

Opinion Article by Motsaathebe Serekoane, Lecturer and BSocSc Programme Director, Department of Anthropology, University of the Free State.


It is our heritage space; it is my private property: the challenge of access to heritage sites on privately owned land. 

The Free State's sacred valleys represent not only our heritage space but also private property. This dual nature presents a challenge in terms of gaining access to heritage sites situated on privately owned land.

Following the enactment of the country's constitution in 1996, segregation boundaries were abolished, granting public access to spaces that were once restricted. Evidence indicates an increase in accessibility to spaces that were traditionally exclusive. However, despite the ideals of inclusion and participation enshrined in the Constitution, property ownership practices and the right to restrict access continue to render sacred natural sites inaccessible to pilgrims. 

Sacred natural sites hold spiritual significance for people, transcending intrinsic or instrumental value. They are culturally and historically significant for people seeking to reconnect with their ancestors, undergo spiritual cleansing, receive training in spiritual healing and ask for guidance and forgiveness. For the Basotho people, the natural environment is an aspect of material reality through which the sacred is manifested. As such, they have returned to reclaim sacred spaces through spiritual journeys to sites like Mantsopa at Modderpoort, Mautse and Nkokomohi Valley near Rosendal, Motouleng near Clarens, and Witsie’s Cave in Qwaqwa.

Ownership rights and reserved rights vs access rights

The conflict between farm owners and pilgrims began when the former claimed exclusive ownership rights and reserved rights to access, while the latter only sought access rights without contesting ownership. According to Section 27 Subsection 8 of the National Heritage Resources Act, 25 1999 (NHRA), a site of significance can be nominated for declaration by the provincial or national heritage body. All the relevant sites were nominated at various times over the past decade and received provisional protection, but they were never formally declared. As a result, these sites have only enjoyed informal and provisional formal protection. In the case of informal heritage sites like Mautse and Motouleng, the private property owners have the legal right to deny entry to their properties and, consequently, the sacred sites.

Land regulation, particularly the Enlightenment-era separation of culture from nature, and the introduction of private ownership and commodification of nature in what were once  ‘traditional’ landscapes, in the African context, have placed many of the sacred sites under a terminal threat over the years. The complexities surrounding the sites persist, as seen in the closure of Mautse in 2016 due to a change in farm ownership. In 2020, Motouleng was also closed, with police forcefully evicting pilgrims on-site at the start of the hard lockdown of the COVID-19 pandemic outbreak. Furthermore, the structures within Motouleng Cave were destroyed by fire.

In recent years, the recognition of consequences for the affected communities and society at large due to the continued loss of sacred places, along with the role and function of pilgrimage to these sites, and related spiritual practices, has been growing. Urgent action from stakeholders at all levels, from international agencies to the local communities, is increasingly advocated to protect this heritage. The closure or denial of access to sacred sites is spreading rapidly. On 4 August 2023, the following access request was made: 

“We were asking for access to pray by the cave called Lehaha la Makhakha in Bothaville tomorrow. We spoke to the owner, but he refused to give us access. His reason for refusing is that other people are using candles which may cause fire and damage to the property, but we didn’t use candles even on 1 July 2023 we prayed, and no damages were incurred. The neighbourhood watch can attest to that. We have been using the prayer cave since 2016. We ask permission to pray.”

We need to dialogue

The conflict between the right to ownership and the right to access is a complex challenge, not only from the legal point of view but also considering South Africa’s complicated history and the cultural differences and contestations that exist. To address the past inequalities, the NHRA provides for the expropriation, subject to compensation, of private property ‘for conservation or any other purpose under this Act if that purpose is public or is in the public interest’, as outlined in Section 46(1). This aligns with Sections 25(2) and (3) of the Constitution (1996), which specify various conditions and circumstances to be considered regarding compensation amounts. Subsection (4) defines public interest to include “the nation’s commitment to land reform, and to reforms to bring about equitable access to all South Africa’s natural resources”. There is no doubt that the sacred sites serve a public interest, aligning effectively with the theory of commons. This has two implications: firstly, sacred natural sites are a kind of commons that cannot be privatized as they cannot have one exclusive owner. Secondly, sacred natural sites need to possess some kind of public property status to be accessible to all potential visitors who may have relational values regarding that site. 

What does this mean for promises of the Constitution and the National Heritage Resources Act? While we are enjoying a braai, let us also remember we need to dialogue on matters that continue to undermine the realisation of the idealism of heritage as cultural capital. This can help South Africa define its cultural identity, build the nation, affirm our diverse cultures, facilitate healing and material and symbolic restitution, and in doing so, shape our national character. 

News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

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