The story ran next day. Its hook was asking readers to consider whether a genocide against whites was happening, and what the consequences might be given the nature of the pictures which accompanied the story. It proved to be effective, because within hours it was picked up by the International Herald Tribune, Reuters, A.P, BBC, CNN, everybody. Every news outlet hit the phones and Skype to South Africa, only to be met by an impenetrable wall of silence that reached as far as the diplomatic missions there. It was like the country had disappeared off the map. Calls to the South African embassies got nothing beyond stock replies and “No comment”, but they ran the story with the caveat “According to The Guardian newspaper of London…” By next morning, tens of thousands of calls to South Africa from people who had family members living there smashed themselves against the digital wall put up by the South African government. This being Europe and North America, the people then began to call their government’s foreign affairs departments to demand answers, but they got nothing beyond promises to look into it. At lunch time all around the world there were crowds in front of South African embassies, among them many people who had relatives they couldn’t reach. An emergency session was called at the UN and some really anxious South Africans managed to throw a bag of pig’s blood at the South African ambassador, accompanied by shouts of “Murderer!” He didn’t get hit, but by the time he left the UN nearly a nervous wreck from the whirlwind of hell concerned nations had unleashed on his head, the security detail was tripled with NYPD and Department of State Diplomatic Security officers.

Motions demanding the restoration of communications in South Africa and a full accounting of what had been happening were frustrated by Russian and Chinese votes against, which were backed up by the entire African continent with the exception of Egypt, as well as Iran, Brazil, Venezuela and Cuba. This didn’t make things easier for the South African government. Instead international frustration increased and demonstrations grew in number and intensity along with unceasing calls on governments to protect foreigners living in South Africa.

Ambassadors were called in by worried presidents and asked to explain their country’s behavior. They couldn’t say much, only the little they’d been told and had no explanation for the visible signs of blacks’ looting and dead white people lying in yards. As one, presidents, prime ministers and whatever else told South African ambassadors to restore communications and guarantee the safety of white foreign citizens along with UN access to the country, or else. The demands were passed on to the government… By the end of the fourth day since The Guardian broke the story, the South African Cabinet met in an emergency session. President Desmond Mkhize looked like he’d been slapped around by a bogeyman. His phone had been ringing off the hook, he’d had very uncomfortable conversations with every major leader around the world, of which by far the worst and most frightening had been with U.S. president James Mattis. After all, when a man sends home his artillery then tells the Iraqis that he did it but “If you fuck with me I will kill you all”, well, the promise that an American fleet could be stationed offshore and bomb the country further back than the Stone Age if so much as one American’s hair got mussed deserved to be feared and believed, no matter how isolationist the Americans had become of late.

The question facing the top crooks of the South African pile was what was worse- the wrath of foreign governments or 50 million black people who didn’t get everything owned by the whites which they’d been promised? These people weren’t strategists because that’s unheard of in Africa, where today matters more than tomorrow and the future only extends to the next election. Still, they weren’t stupid and looked at the domestic and foreign implications of the current situation. The internal problem was simple- either give the “peepull” what they wanted or get hacked to death with machetes which their security details had no hope of holding back. Then again, if Zimbabwe wasn’t levelled after they did pretty much the same to the mostly British whites there, chances were nobody was going to do anything to South Africa either, and they would get rich in the process anyway while those on the ground did the grunt work. Russia and China weren’t as powerful as they were a decade earlier because the Americans had begun to buy back their T-Bills and most of the big firms who’d once had sweatshops there were increasingly moving their factories back to Europe and America, but they were still plenty strong to run interference at the UN and harass with some “unscheduled fleet exercises”. Most of Africa, Iran, Venezuela, Brazil and Cuba among others were with them. That amounted to quite a few votes at the UN, certainly enough to frustrate proceedings there for a few weeks, and that was all they needed, just three weeks or so. The decision was made. The mlungus (derogatory term for whites, it means “dirty white scum from the sea”) were done in South Africa, it was time to bring about Radical Economic Transformation…

Next morning the SABC and radio stations around South Africa were full of announcements that president Mkhize was going to address the country at lunch time and people were encouraged to be near their TVs and radios at that time. The messages were in every language but English and Afrikaans, clearly aimed at the black people of South Africa. Surveillance satellites passing overhead caught the broadcasts and intelligence analysts around the world were divided between those who thought Mkhize was about to announce the restoration of communication networks and stop the madness, and those who believed hell was about to be unleashed. Undecided, governments around the world waited, especially since they found the South African president wasn’t answering his phone. Lunch time came, and the airwaves were buzzing with president Mkhize’s bombast in every black language. He’d had a busy night in a recording studio and was now catching a few hours’ sleep in a secure bunker. One hundred meters above his head, millions of backs heard him say “The time has come to take back our country from the mlungus who robbed us. Go forth my brothers and sisters, do to them what they did to us for over three centuries. Kill the Boer! Kill the farmer! Kill all the whites! Take back your cow ‘n tree (country)! Amandlaaa!”

 

End of Part 6. To be continued…

Mircea Negres

Port Elizabeth

South Africa