We are better today because Judson Diza Kuzwayo and a legion of unsung freedom fighters, instead of allowing us to be asphyxiated by apartheid, sacrificed their lives to become our oxygen. Picture: Supplied
By Dr Vusi Shongwe
Is freedom anything else than the right to live as we wish? Nothing else. – Epictetus
IN the words of the French philosopher and author, Albert Camus, freedom is nothing but a chance to be better. Freedom is the oxygen of the soul, which is true since we need oxygen to survive.
We are better today because Judson Diza Kuzwayo and a legion of unsung freedom fighters, instead of allowing us to be asphyxiated by apartheid, sacrificed their lives to become our oxygen.
We are, therefore, patriotically bound to honour vision, legacy, and the welcome illumination that was his heart. We must adopt his brilliance in our own hearts, lest his radiance be orphaned. Indeed, to paraphrase the lines of one of Maya Angelou’s poems, when the great tree falls, we can be. Be and be better. For Judson Diza Kuzwayo existed.
Indeed, the pleasure and inner gratification we derive from the freedom we enjoy today flow from the work and sacrifices of unsung freedom fighters like Kuzwayo. Kuzwayo gave his entire life to the noble yet difficult fight for freedom. He gave his life to the betterment of all humanity.
His was a life lived in the service of humankind. Kuzwayo and other courageous and unsung freedom fighters’ participation in the struggle for liberation required great and exceptional courage.
One is tempted to assume that freedom fighters like Kuzwayo must have been also inspired by the great book in their fight for freedom. Galatians 5:1 says, “It is for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery.” Amen!
Equally, when he joined Umkhonto we Sizwe, Barry Goldwater’s famous declaration, "Extremism in the defence of liberty is no vice; moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue," must have come to mind.
These words offered a concise summation of many freedom fighters’ lifelong fervour for liberty. It is worth noting that Malcolm X very logically connected “extremism in defence of liberty” to the idea of black Americans defending their rights by “any means necessary”.
Here’s Malcolm X: “My reason for believing in extremism—intelligently directed extremism, extremism in defence of liberty, extremism in quest of justice—is because I firmly believe in my heart that the day the black man takes an uncompromising step and realises he’s within his rights, when his own freedom is being jeopardised, to use any means necessary to bring about his own freedom or put a halt to that injustice, I don’t think he’ll be by himself.”
Kuzwayo symbolised the South African struggle for freedom; he was also the embodiment of their aspirations. Many South Africans, especially those who knew and worked with him in the trenches, revere him as the embodiment of their national aspirations.
Kuzwayo was a tireless and selfless advocate of the struggle for liberation who spent ten years in Robben Island for his compatriots to give his compatriots a chance to be better. Sadly, Kuzwayo, Albon Duma, Balungile Shembe, Sipho Mdletshe, Lucky Ngubane, Arthwell Zikhali, Bafana Njutha, Ruth First, Robert Sobukwe, Steve Biko, Moses Mabhida, Johnny Makhathini, and many freedom fighters never got the chance to be better.
According to Moe Shaik, as cited in his book, The ANC Spy Bible: Surviving Across Enemy Lines, this account of a life that spans apartheid-era and liberated South Africa is both all-too-familiar and valuable in the retelling.
It moves from idealism, commitment, and comradeship in the struggle against political evil to an unravelling in the sordid reality of its aftermath. Sadly, the optimistic belief of Martinican political philosopher Aimé Césaire that ‘there is room for everyone at the rendezvous of victory’ often turns out not to be true in practice.
Shaik puts it profoundly: ‘Unfortunately, history rarely acknowledges those who create opportunities; it simply rewards those who seize them.’ Such is the story of post-apartheid South Africa. Moe Shaik was a member of the ANC’s Mandla Judson Khuzwayo (MJK) unit commanded by Jacob Zuma and operating from Swaziland.
Kuzwayo was never to be kept silent on matters of injustice and unfairness against his compatriots. For that, we are forever indebted to Kuzwayo and many unsung freedom fighters who made us who we are—a liberated people after decades of bitter struggle.
Judson Diza Kuzwayo was born August 25, 1941, at Adams Mission in rural Natal and completed his junior certificate at Loram Secondary School. He joined the African National Congress (ANC) as a teenager in 1957. He organised community groups in the KwaMashu area of Durban, then joined an Umkhonto we Sizwe unit in 1962.
He was arrested the following year while carrying out orders to leave South Africa; he was sentenced to ten years on Robben Island, where he participated in political training and completed his high school education.
In 1973, after his release, he conducted survey research with Eddie Webster and others for the University of Natal Centre for Applied Social Sciences and worked quite hard to build ANC underground links.
Detained for almost eight months in 1975-76 as a potential state witness, he nevertheless testified for the defence in the terrorism trial of Harry Gwala and nine others. He left South Africa for eSwatini (then Swaziland) in mid-1977, where he worked with JZ and continued efforts to protect and expand the Natal underground.
He played a pivotal role as the chief representative of the ANC in Lesotho and in Zimbabwe, following the brutal assassination of Joe Gqabi, another giant and stalwart of the ANC. Tragically, Kuzwayo’s life was cut short in a car accident in May 1985 while en route to Zambia for a crucial meeting.
* Dr Vusi Shongwe is the former head of the Department of the Royal Household. The contribution is written in his personal capacity. The views expressed here are his own.
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