DEMOCRACY
 1 3 - 1 5 JULY 1994
 UNIVERSITY OF THE WITWATERSRAND
 HISTORY WORKSHOP
 THE TORTOISE AND THE SPEAR;
 POPULAR POLITICAL CULTURE AND VIOLENCE IN THE
 SEKHUKHUNELAND REVOLT OF I958
 Peter Delius
 History Department
 University of the Witwaiersrand
The Tortoise and the Spear; Popular political culture and
 violence in the Sekhukhuneland Revolt of 1958.
 Early on the morning of 16th May 1958 in Sekhukhuneland 82-year-
 old Kgobolala Sekhukhune was roused from his sleep by a knock
 at the door of his hut. In the pitch dark he responded. As the
 door swung open he was stabbed in the chest with a spear and
 hacked in the arm with an axe. Within three days nine men had
 been killed, many more had been grievously wounded and plumes of
 smoke from burning buildings and vehicles drifted into the pale
 winter skies. As convoys of police churned up complementary
 clouds of dust, men from the villages in the plains and the
 valleys scrambled up the steep slopes of the Leolu Mts to seek
 refuge - once again - in the caves and crevasses of this great
 natural fortress.(1)
 The initial explanations for these events offered by officials
 and reporters invoked history and terror in equal measure. A
 special correspondent for the Rand Daily Mail wrote, 'The Bapedi,
 tribesmen who were the once all powerful rulers of Sekukuniland,
 took up arms again last week for the first time in sixty years.
 They have reverted to guerrilla-type tactics in an attempt to
 regain their lost power and past glory....[Now] behind the brown
 clouds [of dust] in caves among the rocks the dreaded 'babolai'
 [murderers] wait.(2)
 Increasingly, however, a sinister, secret organisation called the
 Khudhuthamaga (red and white Tortoise) was presented as the
 instigator and perpetrator of gruesome violence. The tone of
 these interpretations owed a good deal to the fears of black
 conspiracy and atavistic revolt which flourished within colonial
 society in the aftermath of the Mau Mau Revolt. But the police
 and prosecutors were able to assemble evidence which, although
 fragmentary and even fanciful, suggested that the Khudhuthamaga
 did exist and was centrally involved in the rising.(3)
 This paper attempts a rather more substantial reconstruction of
 the history of the Khudhuthamaga. It shows how its emergence in
 the mid 1950s was shaped by an interaction of migrant and chiefly
 political forms and discourses, and represented an attempt to
 reconstruct the institution of chieftainship from below, in order
 to prevent it from being incorporated into the Bantu Authority
 system. A core component in this initiative was the attempt to
 give new substance to the idea that kgoshl ke kgoshi ka batho (a
 chief is a chief by the people). The Khudhuthamaga also wrestled
 with the issue of how to deal with those individuals who were
 perceived to favour Bantu Authorities and the paper traces how
 and why its members edged towards the conclusion that they
 should be killed. Both processes highlight key elements within
 popular political culture.
This paper also extends the critique of literature which sees
 rural revolts as essentially parochial affairs remote from
 national political movements. In previous articles I have shown
 that both the ANC and the SACP played an important if highly
 mediated role in rural political mobilisation in the
 Transvaal.(4) In this paper I argue that the experience of the
 Sekhukhuneland Revolt contributed in turn to the wider debate
 about the use of violence within the ANC and SACP which culminat-
 ed in the launch of Umkhonto we Sizwe in 1961.
 Migrants, Chiefs and Commoners
 The conquest of the Pedi kingdom in 1879 brought with it predict-
 able consequences of land alienation and political fragmentation.
 A number of groups which had assisted the victorious armies were
 recognised as independent chiefdoms. The heartland of the polity
 was divided between the Lydenburg and Middleburg districts and
 transformed into farms. Three locations were defined in the
 remaining area of which the largest was the Geluks Location - a
 narrow band of land hugging the foothills of the Leolu Mts. The
 first Native Commissioner in the area Abel Erasmus pursued
 policies of divide and rule with characteristic vigour. In 1896
 he split Geluks location in half, relocated the Paramount to
 Mohlaletse in the arid north, and installed a client, Kgolane, as
 chief in the relatively populous and fertile southern portion.(5)
 Well into the twentieth century the basic assumption of the
 administration of the area was that the power of the chiefs and
 especially that of the Paramount should be kept in check. While
 the Paramountcy was thus formally restricted to authority over
 no more than a portion of one location, in practice its authority
 had considerably wider range. The hostility with which the Para-
 mountcy was regarded by colonial authority also helped to ensure
 that it retained widespread popular legitimacy amongst communi-
 ties living on farms and in locations far beyond the formal
 boundaries of its domain. From the 1920s, the imposition of 'tr-
 ibal' land levies also allowed the Paramountcy to accumulate
 substantial amounts of land. As the Native Affairs Department
 (NAD) policy shifted towards a policy of retribalisation, chiefs
 in Sekhukhuneland as elsewhere, were given somewhat greater
 recognition and material reward. But the position of the Para-
 mount remained restricted and unresolved. And this ambiguous
 context encouraged some headmen to harbour the ambition to
 elevate their own positions.(6)
 At the apex of the local political system which was constructed
 in the first three decades of the twentieth century were two
 Native Commissioners - one based in Pokwani location and the
 other in Geluks location. In theory these men held sway over a
 vast area and population. Chiefs who proved recalcitrant ran the
 risk of a reduction in their stipends while those who challenged
 official authority directly ran a very real risk of deposition.
 Commoners who stepped out of line were also firmly dealt with
 deportation being a common punishment. In practice, however, the
 Commissioners had very limited impact on the day to day existence
 of most of their subjects. Their primary responsibilities were to
collect taxes and to issue passes to work seekers and these
 activities engrossed both their energies and those of the handful
 of staff they had at their disposal. Aside from the annual tax
 tour (which was discontinued in the 1920s) when the Commissioner
 and his retinue made a grand progress round the district, the
 main contact many individuals had with these officials was when
 they left en route to town. The vast bulk of the practical admin-
 istration of the area, including the allocation of land, the
 adjudication of cases, and the sanctioning of crucial phases in
 the political, social, economic and religious cycle of communi-
 ties, was handled by scores of unrecognised sub-chiefs or head-
 man (dikgoshana) who administered the villages dotted across the
 area. The authority of this level of leadership was sanctioned
 and conferred not by the Native Commissioner but by the Paramount
 or in a minority of cases by one of the other powerful chiefs.
 Only the most intractable issues were referred from these head-
 men to the Paramountcy for resolution as most communities
 shunned the Native Commissioners court and offices as far as
 possible.(7)
 This political system was predicated on a system of migrant
 labour which involved virtually all males from their teenage
 years, for expanding periods of their lives, as the decades and
 the generations slipped by. Vet despite the centrality of migran-
 cy to the lives of these men, most still regarded it as a way of
 preserving a primarily rural way of life. Migrancy was a means to
 secure the resources to marry, to build a homestead, to accumu-
 late cattle and ultimately to retire. Towns were regarded as
 Hakgoweng - the place of the whites - or.Leshokeng - a wilder-
 ness. Part of what defined them as such was the absence of core
 institutions like initiation and chieftainship and what they saw
 as the corrosion of appropriate relationships of gender and
 generation. They believed in sum that towns were deeply uncivi-
 lised places. The Paramountcy was for many a key symbol and
 guarantor of a cherished rurally focussed moral order, while the
 Native Commissioner represented an outpost of Hakgoweng best kept
 in quarantine.(8)
 The committment to an alternative rural world was in part sus-
 tained by most raens' expectation that they would ultimately
 secure some rights to land and livestock. This did not of course
 imply an egalitarian rural society. Evidence from the 1930s and
 1940s suggests that there were very marked disparities in the
 resources which households commanded and new settlers could
 battle to gain access to any land, especially in the increasing-
 ly congested locations. The residents of Sekhukhuneland faced the
 looming threat to their social order of the creation of a perma-
 nently landless and stockless stratum. This spectre was for the
 moment held at bay by complex social networks and processes of
 redefinition of rights in land and cattle which prevented the
 creation of starkly defined rural classes. Equally important was
 the steady haemorrhage of men to the towns on a permanent basis
 which acted as a pressure valve and in some instances allowed
 for the redistribution of resources. But just how long this
 elaborate balancing act could be maintained was open to
 question.(9)
Socio-economic factors were of course only one of a number of
 forms of differentiation within the villages of Sekhukhuneland.
 The population of each chiefdom was - for example - divided into
 a number of distinct ranked strata ranging from bakgomana -
 royals - through batho feela - commoners - to mathupya - de-
 scendants of captives. But probably the most profound division in
 most . villages in the 1930s and 1940s was between the baditshaba
 (those of the community) - and the Bakristi (a small Christian
 minority). Christians in most instances lived in a distinct area
 of the village. John Phala an ANC activist recalled of his child-
 hood in the 1930s: 'We can see that Apartheid started there among
 the black people. There was a contradiction between us, the Maja-
 kane(Christians) and those they called the Baheitene(heathens)'.
 It is revealing that the term Majakane was derived from the
 verb jaka meaning 'to live in a foreign country.' Christianity
 was closely associated in the minds of most Pedi with colonial
 conquest and a broader assault on established values and social
 practices. Christians were seen as having turned their backs on
 the community (setshaba). Christian youth did not not attend
 initiation and as a result they were not incorporated into
 regimental structures. Uninitiated men were also excluded from
 the central political forums in the villages. Christian youths
 until the 1950s, however, constituted the overwhelming majority
 of those who attended the predominantly mission schools in the
 area. When mocked for still being 'boys' by initiated youths
 converts responded with derision at their detractors 'backward-
 ness' and lack of 'civilization.' Onsuprisingly these exchanges
 became heated and sometimes violent, although it was unusual for
 serious injury to be the result of these confrontations.(10)
 Tensions between commoners and chiefs also flared from time to
 time in many communities. These conflicts were most marked in
 those cases - such as that of Abel Erasmus' client Kgolane - in
 which chieftainship was blatantly the creation of colonial manip-
 ulation. In these instances commoners fought a long drawn-out
 struggle to reduce the effective authority of the chief to the
 mininum possible, without invoking reprisals from white official-
 dom and, whenever they were able, to invoke the alternative
 authority of the Paramountcy.(11) But even in communities were
 the legitimacy of the chief was more securely grounded the
 nature of chiefly power was a point of ongoing contestation. The
 scarcity of resources meant that commoners were increasingly
 unable to employ the classic strategy of withdrawing from the
 areas of incompetent and/or capricious chiefs, and chiefs could
 now look to white officials to confirm and maintain them in
 office in the face of challenge. The overall result was to make
 Chiefs more authoritarian and remote from their subjects. Godfrey
 Pitje who grew up in Sekhukhuneland and who returned to conduct
 anthropological research in the 1940s, observed that whereas in
 the past commoners had been able to speak in pitso (public meet-
 ings)
Nowdays ... there is very little freedom of speech . Pedi
 chiefs are notorious for resenting remarks from commoners. After
 a commoner has aired his views it is not uncommon for the chief
 to ask "Whose son is he? "... It is a reflection of the mentali-
 ty common amongst nobles... that those lower than themselves are
 not capable of advising them Those who resent such treat-
 ment usually do so by reminding the chief that Kqoshi ke kqoshi
 ka batho(ie a chief is a chief by the grace of his people). This
 expression carries with it the threat that unless the chief rules
 by the will of the majority, his subjects may desert him. Howev-
 er, under European administration this threat cannot be carried
 out, at least not in the old sense.'(12)
 One recurring source of conflict was the imposition of special-
 levies by the chiefs. The most controversial of these charges
 was a land levy of LI per tax payer which was initiated in 1923
 and partly administered by the Native Commissioner . As we have
 seen above this considerably expanded the amount of land under
 the authority of the Paramount . But it was far from univer-
 sally supported. The payment of the levy ran counter to the
 longstanding popular conviction that 'the land belongs to us , we
 cannot buy our own ground.' (13) There was a deep-seated reluc-
 tance to buy back land that most people believed had been stolen
 by the whites. The land that was acquired was also often remote
 from the locations, already densely settled and did little to
 alleviate land hunger in the heart of Sekhukhuneland. Some
 headmen and subordinate chiefs also chafed against a system
 which expanded the power of the Paramount but did little to
 enhance their own positions. Special collectors were appointed to
 gather the levy from groups of migrants on the reef and periodic
 raids were also conducted by the Native Commissioners' police in
 the reserves. Defaulters were sometimes manhandled and found
 themselves fined or even imprisoned. Conflict on this issue
 flared on a number of occassions from the 1930s onwards. The levy
 was finally discontinued in the early 1950s in part as a result
 of a campaign led by ex-servicemen which featured amongst other
 things a protest march to Mohlaletse - the seat of the Paramount-
 cy.(14)
 Communities in Sekhukhuneland in the 1930s and 1940s were neither
 egalitarian nor in equilibrium, but were rather in the grip of
 deepseated processes of change and were shot through with divi-
 sions and tensions, only some of which have been hinted at
 above. Nonetheless the evidence for this period suggests that
 the most profound cleavage lay not within chiefdoms but between
 this world to some extent defined by the exercise of communal
 tenure and chiefly authority, and the wider world of white power
 and capitalist relationships. Sekhukhuneland and especially the
 locations within it were seen1by many who lived there as a place
 of refuge. It was a sanctuary from swaggering white officials and
 employers, from brutal policemen and the burden of passes, from
 wage labour and rents, from dangerous women, delinquent youth and
 the rampant criminality which infested urban society. The limited
 degree of freedom which this represented was closely tied to
 retaining access to land and livestock, to preserving the remain-
 ing autonomy of the chiefdoms, and to ensuring that the power of
white officialdom remained as confined as possible. Native Com-
 missioners were humoured as long as they did not attempt to
 tamper with the inner workings of the chiefdoms and most were
 aware in the 1930s and 40s that minimal intervention brought
 maximum co-operation. Basil Sansom who conducted fieldwork in
 the area two decades later commented 'Any alteration that en-
 tails, or seems to entail, further penetration of white influence
 into what the Pedi define as their sphere of command will encoun-
 ter principled rejection'.(15)
 Betterment and Bantu Authorities
 In the aftermath of the 1936 Native Trust and Land Act there was
 intensifying state intervention in the countryside. In particular
 in the northern Transvaal vast tracts of land - including, farms
 bordering on the old locations in Sekhukhuneland - were acquired
 by the South African Native Trust(SANT).From the 1940s these
 farms were automatically designated 'Betterment' areas and
 strict controls were imposed on the inhabitants. In the name of
 'conservation' cattle were culled, lands were demarcated and
 fenced, individual land and stock holdings were reduced and in
 some instances a landless class was defined. Communities found
 themselves hemmed in by a host of restrictions, ranging from a
 ban on cutting trees to prohibitions on keeping donkeys and
 goats. Households found that they had to pay fees for grazing
 stock and rents for residential sites. 'Widows' were informed
 that they were entitled to reduced amounts of arable land. New
 settlements were laid out in straight lines. Individuals who had
 - or sought to secure - land and livestock to sustain house-
 holds in the present or to keep alive the ambition of rural
 retirement in the future were placed in jeopardy. But perhaps
 most ominous of all were the powers that ' Betterment' and its
 post-war successor 'Rehabilitation' gave to white officials and
 their agents to interfere in the daily life of communities.
 Native Commissioners, Agricultural Officers and (African) Agri-
 cultural Rangers invaded communities with rolls of fencing wire,
 sheaves of rules and regulations and lists of new charges. Chiefs
 and headmen who resided on land under control of the SANT found
 themselves functionaries in a tightly defined administrative
 system. This complex of measures became popularly known as 'the
 Trust'. It was widely detested as intrusive, oppressive and
 inimical to the maintenance of even a residual political and
 economic autonomy.(16) Johannes Mangope Phala, for example, gives
 a vivid sense of the violation of a private doamain in explaining
 why he rejected 'the Trust'.
 They were coming into our homes,... even our own homes would
 be controlled by them.... Can you accept that if you marry a
 women that another man just comes, throws you out of your house,
 climbs into your bed and sleeps in your blankets?(17)
 'The Trust' met with intense opposition in the Northern and East-
 ern Transvaal and conflicts flared throughout the 1940s.
 The Nationalist Party victory of 1948 and the Bantu Authorities
 Act of 1951 ushered in a new phase of rural restructuring. But
 while the system of tribal authorities was seen as the foundation
of a decisively separate administrative order for Africans, it
 was also seen as a new solution to old problems. Officials in
 Pretoria and on the ground believed that Bantu Authorities would
 hasten the implementation of 'Rehabilitation'. Communities -
 especially in the old locations - also believed that a double
 agenda existed. While officials harped on benefits of 'self-
 rule' , their audiences interpreted their blandishments as a
 poison chalice enticing them with the nectar of 'independence'
 but brimming with the venom of 'the Trust'.(18)
 By 1952 the Secretary of Native Affairs Dr W. Eiselen - who had
 grown up on a mission station in Sekhukhuneland - was anxious
 that the process of establishing Bantu Authorities(BAs) should
 get under way. Confronted by widespread popular hostility to BAs,
 but concerned to avoid undermining the legitimacy of the system
 by the use of blatant coercion, officials looked for the opportu-
 nity for a breakthrough. The prestige and legitimacy of the Pedi
 Paramountcy which officials had long viewed with suspicion, now
 held out the possibility of dramatic 'progress'. They noted that
 the influence of the Maroteng chiefly house stretches far
 beyond the present tribal area... [in] the nineteenth century
 they were the recognised rulers of the Bantu who presently live
 in the .... area between Bosbokrand in the East , Pietersburg in
 the West and Pretoria in the South. (19)
 Eiselen and his officials believed that, if the Paramount could
 be persuaded to accept the BA system, communities in the broader
 region rapidly would follow suit.
 The scope for manipulation of the Paramountcy was also increased
 by a prolonged partial interregnum. In 194 3 Sekhukhune II died
 after a long reign. His designated heir Thulare Sekhukhune had
 however pre-deceased him in 1941 without producing ah heir and
 the Maroteng bakgomana (royals) faced the problem of how to
 establish a legitimate heir. The immediate solution was to in-
 stall Thulare's younger brother Morwamotshe as acting chief with
 the responsibility of raising an heir for his brother. Morwa-
 motshe was a mild man of limited education. He was reluctant to
 take, a clear lead on any issue and was content to delegate
 decisions to his councillors. The consequence was that the af-
 fairs of the chiefdom were increasingly dominated by his more
 assertive brothers. The most senior was the tribal secretary
 Motodi Sekhukhune but the most influential, and a man who later
 was viewed by many as the effective ruler at Mohlaletse, was
 Mabowe James Sekhukhune.(20)
 Mabowe was remote from the main line of succession but was a
 personable youth with a quick intelligence who enjoyed a warm
 relationship with his father Sekhukhune II. At the latters'
 suggestion he left the local school and went to stay with a
 lawyer 'Aapie' Roux at Lydenburg who had done work on behalf of
 the Paramount. Mabowe attended to local mission school where he
completed std six. During his stay in the Roux household he also
 became well versed in the ways of the Afrikaner middle class. In
 1936 he went to the Rand and, after a brief spell as a mine
 clerk, found employment in the concession store at the Van Ryn
 Deep Mine where he worked for four years and mastered a range of
 the skills needed in commerce. In the 1940s, he found employment
 in a number of other stores, dabbled in ANC politics, observed
 the 1946 mineworkers strike and finally in 1947 returned to
 Sekhukhuneland. His wish to marry an educated Christian women was
 rejected by his family and he entered into an arranged marriage
 with a cousin whom he immediately despatched to school.(21)
 Trading in Sekhukhuneland in the late 1940s was monopolised by a
 handful of white trading families. The strict enforcment of a 3 0
 mile exclusion zone made it extremely difficult for new traders
 to gain licenses. But Mabowe was able to use his connections to
 the Paramountcy and to Aapie Roux, to secure locations and li-
 censes for stores. In the early 1950s as the Nationalist admin-
 stration lowered the obstacles to black traders, Mabowe steadily
 expanded the number of shops under his control. He also developed
 close relations with a number of wholesalers based in Pietersburg
 and forged links with the family of Dr Naude, HP for the town and
 Minister of the Interior who was impressed by this shrewd and
 convivial Pedi royal.(22)
 Mabowe believed that it was pointless to resist the Nationalist
 Government and judged that both Bantu Authorities and Bantu
 Education would open up new avenues of opportunity and 'progress'
 within the reserves. He acted as a key link between the NAD
 officials based in Pietersburg and Morwamotshe and his council-
 lors. Morwamotshe's closest advisors came to share Mabowe's view
 that the Paramountcy could derive considerable benefits from co-
 operating with the proposed new dispensation. Mabowe also had
 close connections with other emergent black traders who also saw
 potential advantages in the proposed new order. In the early
 1950s after he was appointed by Morwamotshe as Chairmen of the
 Sekhukhuneland School Board, he threw himself into the task of
 refashioning local schooling. One of the obstacles to the expan-
 sion of schooling had long been popular hostilty to missionary
 dominance. Mabowe saw Bantu Education as an opportunity to build
 conununitiy based and supported schools. When the only secondary
 school in the area was closed by the Anglican Church Mabowe set
 about collecting a 'voluntary' contribution of ten shillings from
 each family in the location to build a brand new high school. He
 was also able to fashion a happy combination of his interests
 when he secured a trading licence for a prime spot adjacent to
 the new school.(23)
 Mabowe was the most articulate and visible spokesman for a small
 minority within the reserve who supported Bantu Authorities.
 Aside from traders, this grouping included some senior royals and
 chiefs who were persuaded that the system would entrench and
 improve their positions. Some headmen also resented their posi-
 tions in the old order and hoped for better out of the new. As
 Frans Marodi Nchabeleng complained in 1953, 'headmen have ren-
dered long and good service and have many followers but they are
 still called headmen and they are not recognised by the govern-
 ment' (24) There were also clerks, policemen and agricultural
 rangers, whose fortunes were closely tied to those of the local
 state. There was some division in the ranks of local teachers but
 most came from conservative Christian backgrounds and were remote
 from the main currents of popular concern. While uneasy about the
 implications of Nationalist policies, they nonetheless tended
 like Mabowe to view resistance as hopeless and to believe that
 on balance state intervention would bring 'progress'. The broad
 pattern was that those whose life strategies revolved around
 migrancy and accumulating land and stock, rejected Bantu Author-
 ities while those who were well placed to perceive opportuni-
 ties in commerce, education and the local state took a rather
 more sanguine view. As Gad Sekhukhune observed 'You know as a
 businessman or as a teacher you have got to visualise the coming
 land, they are a bit civilised unlike tribal people'.(25) But for
 many people the new order represented not civilization but its
 reverse - a quantum advance of the world of the whites, the
 values of majakane and the stormtroopers of 'the Trust'.
 By no means all senior royals supported Bantu Authorities. Some
 believed that the new system would hamstring them politically and
 materially, while others feared for the popular legitimacy of the
 of the Paramountcy. Aware of high levels of popular hostility and
 the existence of divisons amongst the bakgomane Bantu Affairs
 Department(BAD) officials and Mabowe moved cautiously. A range
 of inducements were held out to persuade Morwamotshe to estab-
 lish a Tribal Authority. In 1953 on the death of Chief M. Kgolo-
 ko, who had officially held sway over the southern portion of
 Geluks location, the BAD offered to recognise Morwamotshe as
 official Paramount on 'the understanding that within three months
 [he] will agree to the establishment of a Bantu Authority, if
 necessary with the powers of a regional authority'.(26) On the 20
 August 1953, with considerable fanfare before an audience of
 chiefs, headmen and officials , Morwamotshe was installed as
 Paramount over the whole of Geluks location and the tribal
 farms. Three months passed but no reguest to establish a Bantu
 Authority was forthcoming. Thus began a cat-and-mouse game that
 was to drag on for the next two years. In private meetings Morwa-
 motshe and his most senior councillors gave their assurances that
 they intended to comply, but in public meetings they deferred to
 angry and even bellicose popular sentiment and avoided any open
 commitment.
 There were men of high rank who spoke out against Bantu Authori-
 ties in these meetings. For example Godfrey Sekhukhune - a
 staunch member of the ANC - argued that incorporation into these
 structures would defile the legacy of Sekhukhune 1 and sever the
 arteries of legitimacy and popular support for the Paramountcy.
 He likened Bantu Authorities to a snake's egg that would hatch a
 viper in the heart of the polity. Increasingly exasperated offi-
 cials alternated between threats and promises. The Paramount was
 reminded of the possibility of deposition. He was also offered
 additional powers, a larger salary and finally on 10 December of
 10
1956 at a public meeting in a frenzy of bribery he was prom-
 ised 'a railway bus, a secondary school, a clinic, a post office
 and a telephone.'(27) When Horwamotshe agreed that he would like
 these facilities Mr Prinsloo - the Chief Information Officer of
 the BAD - leapt up and shook him by the hand. An official photo-
 graph was taken and Mr Prinsloo announced that he was overjoyed
 that Morwamotshe had accepted Bantu Authorities. Delighted BAD
 officials began to prepare the proclamation of a regional author-
 ity with councillors nominated by the Paramount and drawn from
 the Maroteng bakgomana, the more powerful headmen and a couple
 of teachers and shopkeepers.(28)
 Sebatakgomo and the Khudhuthamaga
 News of these events was carried to the Rand by migrant workers.
 From the early 1950s workers from Sekhukhuneland gathered in
 compounds, hostels, factories and burial societies to debate and
 dissect events at home. They listened to the grim stories mi-
 grants from other areas had to tell about 'the Trust' and Bantu
 Authorities. As has been discussed at length in previous arti-
 cles, Sebatakgomo - a rural resistance organisation set up in
 1955 from within the ANC and the underground SACP - drew in these
 networks of concerned migrants and developed a mass following
 amongst mainly Pedi workers. It centred on the hostels and was
 composed of village based committees which met in each of the
 industrial centres and which sent representatives to a central
 committee which met in Johannesburg. The central committee was
 known as the Khudhuthamaga.(29)
 The common denominator of the vast majority of the members of
 Sebatakgomo was that they were migrant workers from baditshaba
 communities in Sekhukhuneland. This provided a core of common
 values and shared experiences of processes of rural and urban
 change in the early 1950s. However there was also considerable
 diversity in the movement which can be conceptualised by means
 of a continuum. At one end of the continuum were individuals
 with at least primary schooling, who had long histories of in-
 volvement in unions, the SACP and ANC, and who were familiar with
 the versions of democracy, nationalism and socialism propagated
 in these organisations. A number of these men played a key role
 in the leadership. At the other end of the continuum were mi-
 grants who had neither western education nor involvement in
 unions or political parties whose primary commitment was to
 defending a residual rural autonomy. The latter, who probably
 comprised the majority of the membership, had models of organisa-
 tion derived primarily from their experience of the political
 processes within chiefdoms, regiments and burial societies. Some
 of these men were aware that many of the leaders of Sebatakgomo
 had wider political connections, but trusted them because they
 were from BoPedi. When the leadership visited rural communities
 they stressed that they were from Sebatakgomo rather than empha-
 sising their connections to the ANC. As the movement grew in
 strength its 'Pedi' character became even more marked. In 1957
 partly as a consequence of this shift its name was changed to
 Fetakgomo which was derived from the political maxim Feta kgomo o
 sware rootho - ( leave the cattle and take the people) - which was
 11
closely associated with the history of hegemony of the Maroteng
 Paramountcy. It also had rather more immediate resonances given
 the centrality of cattle culling to 'the Trust'.(30)
 The use of the term Fetakgomo with its interplay of historical
 and contemporary allusions highlights part of the reasons for the
 organisations' success. Out of the interaction of its various
 components an ideology was forged focussing on key symbols with
 wide ranging resonances . Central to this ideology was a rejec-
 tion of Bantu Authorities and 'the Trust'. This appealed to
 concerns both over the Nationalists denial of political rights
 to Africans within a common society, and to fears that the 'fre-
 edom of the chiefdoms' would finally be destroyed. Defence of
 chieftainship was a crucial component in the aims of Fetakgomo
 but it was couched in terms which appealed to broadly based
 consituencies. While the office of chieftainship - and especially
 that of the Paramount - was celebrated, it was also recognised
 that individual chiefs were incompetent and/or careless of their
 subjects' interests.The ideal that kgoshi ke kgoshi ka batho was
 stressed which resonanted both with commoner conerns over the
 increasingly authoritarian anico-opted realities of chiefly rule
 and with the democratic discourse of the ANC. (31)
 In 1956 and 1957 Fetakgomo set about bringing these ideals and
 the practice of chieftainship into closer alignment. As incon-
 clusive meeting followed inconclusive meeting in Sekhukhuneland
 fears grew amongst migrants that elements within the Paramountcy
 were intent on doing a deal with the BAD. In November 1956
 messages reached the Rand that Morwamotshe was about to capitu-
 late. The leadership of Sebatakgomo despatched a letter from
 'Sechaba sa Bapedi'(the Pedi community/nation) asking Morwamotshe
 to convene a pitso at Mohlalatse which would be attended by
 migrants and locals to discuss the issue. The letter was however
 intercepted and ended up in the hands of the Native Commissioner.
 When the migrants led by John Kgoana Nkadimeng arrived on the
 appointed day they found the police waiting for them with an
 order prohibiting the meeting. The large and angry crowd which
 had gathered was finally forced to disperse. But Morwamotshe was
 clearly shaken by these events. Before the migrants returned to
 Johannesburg he told Nkadimeng, 'You go back and tell my people
 that I have not signed for the land [accepted Bantu
 Authorities](32)
 The Sunday after their return from Sekhukhuneland a meeting of
 Sebatakgomo was called. It was reported that police had prevented
 the pitso and it was argued that the organisation was of little
 value if it could be so easily thwarted by the authorities.
 Nkadimeng suggested that in future Sebatakgomo should operate as
 far as possible in secret. They should find secure means of
 conveying messages and issue cards only to trusted members. But
 it was also concluded that if the movement was to succeed steps
 had to be taken against a more insidious enemy, 'that all persons
 who proved to be renegades should be exposed and made known to
 members of the organisation. Renegades were considered to be
 12
those working for the government or who are informers'.(33) The
 fears of the migrants were intensified when news reached them
 that Morwamotshe, within two weeks of giving them the assurance
 that he would not 'sign', had apparently publicly embraced both
 Mr Wessels and Bantu Authorities.
 This turn of events persuaded the leadership of Sebatakgomo that
 drastic measures were required. But they still sought to avoid a
 head-on confrontation with Morwamotshe which could both have
 sown division in their own ranks and tarnished a vital symbol.
 It was proposed that Mabowe Sekhukune and others who formed the
 Dihloqo Tsa Motse (literally the heads of the village) - the
 inner circle of Morwamotshe's administration - should be deposed
 and replaced by individuals who could be trusted by the migrants.
 To this end, and after much debate, it was decided to send Phete-
 di Thulare (a senior royal) and Morewane Motubatse to Moh] iletse
 to take matters in hand. These individuals along with other mi-
 grants who were at home started to contact influential villagers
 amongst them Morwamoche's brother Mosehla Sekhukhune - and to
 mobilise popular opposition to Mabowe, Motodi and the other
 councillors. After some weeks, a series of meetings were held
 at Mohlaletse at which the existing advisers of the Paramount
 were called to account. They were accused of secret dealings with
 officials, of withholding vital information and of misleading
 Morwamotshe. In these and subsequent meetings the activities of
 Mabowe Sekhukhune came under particular scrutiny. He failed to
 attend but, in his absence, was charged - amongst other things -
 with embezzling the funds for the new school and of misusing
 the chiefs' car. But most importantly of all he was accused of
 conspiring to usurp the chieftainship. A photograph of Mabowe
 published in the December 1956 issue of the BAD magazine Bantu
 and captioned 'Chief Sekhukhune' was seen conclusive proof of
 the validity of these fears. Through all of these proceedings,
 however, care was taken to avoid direct criticism of Morwa-
 motshe. (34)
 The upshot of these meetings was the replacement of the Para-
 mounts' key advisers. Ntladi Mampuru was appointed as Induna and
 Phetedi Thulare as secretary and a new inner council was con-
 structed out of individuals who had a track record of opposition
 to BAs. Mabowe - in the face of persistent rumours that an at-
 tempt would be made on his life - left the area and his shops
 were subject to an almost total popular boycott. Motodi and many
 of the other displaced advisers, sought refuge in the neighbour-
 ing village of Ntshabeleng. These events constituted a major
 political coup. While on the face of it operating within the con-
 ventions and forms of chiefly power, these meetings had in fact
 overturned long-established practices which restricted influence
 over these positions to a small group selected by the Paramount
 and senior royals. Now a much broader constituency within the
 chiefdom had been actively involved and the group installed in
 key positions also maintained close contact with Sebatakgomo's
 structures on the Rand. One of the principal projects pursued by
 the new urban and rural leadership was to collect funds to pro-
 vide Morwamotshe with a new house and car. This was in part in-
 tended to remind Morwamotshe that material rewards for loyalty
 13
were not the monopoly of the BAD.(35)
 Once again the BAD officials found their hopes dashed of the
 smooth establishment of a Bantu Authority. Morwamotshe flanked
 by his new advisers denied that he had ever accepted Bantu Au-
 thorities. In mid March 1957 Dr Piet Koornhof was dispatched by
 Eiselen to investigate the situation. He was alarmed by what he
 found and argued that 'a setback.... will have repercussions
 throughout the Transvaal because Sekhukhuneland can be regarded
 as the heart of the Transvaal Bantu'. He recommended firm meas-
 ures against the new advisers and continued support for Mabowe.
 (36) Early in April, Phetedi Thulare and Godfrey Sekhukhune were
 arrested and deported to Matubatuba and Mtunzini respectively.
 After these arrests the Dihlogo Tsa Motse worked in close con-
 junction with the urban leadership of Fetakgomo to stage pro-
 tests and to raise money to retain lawyers to contest the depor-
 tations. The urban leadership made a number of visits to Sekhuk-
 huneland in these months. A recurring refrain in their meetings
 was that it was 'time to win back the land but that they must now
 fight not with assegaais but with money.'(37) They also reported
 on the rapid growth and activities of Fetakgomo in the urban
 areas and distributed membership cards.
 The BAD response was two-pronged. On the one hand repression was
 intensified. Over the following year there were further deporta-
 tions, Morwamotshe was deprived of his official authority to hear
 tribal cases, the school at Mohlaletse was closed, the ANC was
 banned and an effective local state of emergency was declared. On
 the other hand overtures were made to a number of headmen to
 accept Bantu Authorities. The principal inducement that was
 offered was that those who complied would be recognised as
 independent chiefs and would head autonomous tribal authorities.
 While most chiefs resisted these blandishments - not least of all
 for fear of the wrath of their followers - a minority responded
 positively.(38)
 These developments heightened tensions within the chiefdoms. The
 urban leadership of Fetakgomo urged that the organisation should
 be expanded in the rural area but Morwamotshe and some members of
 the Dihlogo Tsa Motse resisted on grounds that existing political
 structures were adequate. A group of younger migrants - aged in
 their twenties and early thirties - who were present at Mohla-
 letse and who had participated in Fetakgomo activities in Jo-
 hannesburg were not satisfied with this response. Led by Lebe-
 like Mogase and Motubatse Mangope, they called a meeting of the
 Dihlogo Tsa Motse. They demanded to be allowed to participate in
 meetings of the council as one member recalled 'because they just
 saw us drink beer while they paid money and the banned men still
 had not returned. Therefore they wanted representation to put
 matters right.'(39) Morwamotshe and some of the councillors re-
 sisted repeated demands along these lines but eventually Kgetjepe
 Makotenyane and Nkopodi Rampelani said that that 'they were our
 children and would help us with the work and a majority agreed
 to their involvement'(40) Once they were admitted the young mi-
 grants urged that the name of the council should be changed to
 Khudhuthamaga and that it should follow the political lead of
 14
its Johannesburg namesake - the executive committee of Fetakgo-
 mo.
 The intervention of the young migrants saw yet another shift in
 the balance of power within the chiefdom. For now it was not only
 commoners but also young men who had a decisive say in the inner
 councils of the Paramountcy. Having secured unprecedented politi-
 cal leverage, these men helped build the Khudhuthamaga into a
 major political force in the region. Office bearers were elected
 and regular meetings were held under a Marula tree on the moun-
 tain slopes behind the royal kgoro. Branches were established
 in the major villages which sent two elected representatives to
 the central committee. Morwamotshe was not present except at
 special request but was represented at meetings by his brother
 Mosehla Sekhukhune. In practice the Khudhuthamaga became the
 effective focus of power and authority on the vital issues of
 the day.(41)
 One of the most urgent issues it confronted was what to do in the
 case of subordinate chiefs who might agree to the establishment
 of tribal authorities. While some of these individuals were
 rulers of long standing and were relatively well-entrenched most
 were at loggerheads with the majority of their own villagers and
 the fact that headmen who accepted Bantu Authorities were expect-
 ed to make an immediate start on 'betterment' further eroded
 their popular support. The strategy that was pursued in these
 instances was that their subjects brought complaints against them
 to Mohlaletse where - after a hearing - they were deposed and
 replaced with individuals acceptable to. the Khudhuthamaga. A
 number of headmen who suffered this fate appealed to local offi-
 cials for support. The consequence in a handful of communities
 was the existence of two competing headmen/or women: one with
 minority support but with official recognition, the other sup-
 ported by the Khudhuthamaga and by the majority of their vil-
 lages. (42)
 These events produced a profound polarisation within Sekhuk-
 huneland between a small minority defined as supporters of Bantu
 Authorities and dubbed Haranqera and the overwhelming majority
 known as the Makhudhuthamaqa - the people of the khudhuthamaga.
 The term Marangera was taken from the African agricultural
 rangers who served under white agricultural officers on 'Trust'
 farms. Rangers symbolised co-option by white officialdom and the
 invasion and subversion of the inner domain of chiefdoms and
 homesteads. All those who publicly proclaimed themselves in
 favour of tribal authorities and /or betterment earned this
 appellation. (43)
 But the category also had rather broader connotations. It harked
 back to the bitter and costly struggle between allies of Abel
 Erasmus and the supporters of Sekhukhune II in the 1890s. It was
 also coloured by the division between Christians and baditshaba.
 15
By no means all of the Rangers were Christians but many were from
 majakane families and Christians had long been viewed as a poten-
 tial fifth column within the society. Black teachers were also
 closely associated in popular thinking both with Christianity and
 more broadly with the intrusion of white power and values. The
 fact that a number of teachers were prominent supporters of BAs
 considerably strengthened these perceptions. There was also
 considerable suspicion of black traders. Epitomised in the
 person of Mabowe Sekhukhune such traders' were suspected of a
 willingness to betray and subvert core values in order to be able
 to secure their own material advantage. This perception was
 probably heightened by the failure of most black, traders to play
 the publicly redistributive roles that had helped legitimate
 previous patterns of accumulation within chiefdoms. There was
 also a widespread belief that the white officials' key informers
 were to be found amongst the ranks of the Rangers and their was
 a suspicion that some were using the powers of witchcraft to
 defend and advance their cause. Rangers - in short - came to
 symbolise not only Bantu Authorities and 'the Trust' but a whole
 constellation of forces which threatened the ' freedom of the
 chiefdoms'. (44) ,
 In 1959 Motodi Nchabeleng - a teacher but nonetheless a staunch
 supporter of the Khudhuthamaga - wrote a vivid account of these
 divisions.
 The Rangers were the spies of the system of Bantu Authori-
 ties. Their work was to go around arresting people and reporting
 those that spoke out against the system to the authorities....
 Another word that caused fear was St Helena [deportation]. It
 came to the point that the ... the Rangers refused to eat with
 the resisters and ... the people resolved no longer to accept
 food from the hands of the Rangers. Paying each other visits was
 now fraught with danger ... Fear of killing grew in the country
 of Bopedi. In the night people walked in fear of one another.
 The Rangers were always heard saying of the resisters, 'this year
 they will go for ever.' Then it was often heard that so and so
 was picked up and sent to St Helena. Mockery and talking ill of
 one another grew night and day. As time went by it became evident
 that here in BoPedi would be no peace or reconciliation.(45)
 This account highlights not only the depth of the divisions, but
 also conveys a sense of the role that witchcraft beliefs played
 in deepening polarisation. Belief in witchcraft was pervasive
 in both Christian and Baditshaba communities in the 1950s and the
 use of poisons was regarded as the hall mark of the particularly
 feared category of day witches. As Motodi Nchabeleng recalled
 'they thought witches were poisoning people, mostly those who
 were strong speakers' (against BAs].(46) The power to inflict
 disaster on ones enemies was another element in the armoury of
 witches which also appeared to some to be mirrored in the ability
 of Rangers to secure the deportation of their opponents. Witch-
 craft and misfortune were in addition believed to flourish in
 divided communities. This is not - of course - to suggest that
 there was a simple elision of witches and Rangers but rather that
 forms of explanations which underpinned witchcraft beliefs shaded
 16
into the interpretation of these divisions and coloured the
 characterisation of Rangers.(47)
 Feelings ran so high on these natters that the threat of violence
 was present in many meetings where Rangers faced their detrac-
 tors. The experience of 72- year-old 'Ginger' Kambula at a
 meeting at Mohlaletse in September 1957 provides a vivid picture
 of one such encounter. Kambula, who was from a far-flung chiefdom
 but related to Morwamotshe by marriage had not attended a meeting
 at the Paramountcy for some time and was not aware of how dan-
 gerous the political undercurrents there had become. After having
 taken notes of the meeting on a piece of paper he rose to argue
 that the Paramountcy would be destroyed if Bantu Authorities were
 rejected. The Chairman of the meeting Kgagudi Maredi leapt to his
 feet and shouted 'take that paper on which he has been writing
 and tear it to pieces because he wants to give it to Mabowe. He
 is a Ranger.'(48) Then a group of men stormed down on him and
 beat him until Morwamotshe and Mosehla Sekhukhune were able to
 stop them.
 As the state intensified pressures in Sekhukhuneland and succeed-
 ed in widening cleavages in the body politic, debates took an
 ominous new turn. Late in 1957 some of the younger . migrants
 started to relay accounts of events at Zeerust and elsewhere
 where 'collaborators' houses had been burnt and some had been
 killed. It was argued in a meeting of the Khudhuthamaga with
 Morwamotshe present that 'it no longer is possible to live along-
 side people who caused our people to be arrested. They should be
 killed.' Morwamotshe responded 'If you want to practice withcraft
 do it without my agreement. Why do you ask my permission to kill
 people?' He went on to say that he wanted no violence and the
 Khudhuthamaga as a whole supported him.(49)
 By March 1958 it had become obvious to the BAD that neither
 threat nor promise could prize Morwamotshe free of his new coun-
 cillors. Officials decided on drastic measures. Morwamotshe was
 suspended from office and 82-year-old Kgobalala Sekhukhune who
 was a retired policeman remote from the main line of succession
 was appointed in his stead. On the 21st March Morwamotshe was
 deported to Cala in the Transkei accompanied by his wife and
 children. The BAD believed that they had provided a salutary
 display of their power. What they failed to understand initially
 was that by acting directly against Morwamotshe they had deliv-
 ered the most profound affront imaginable to popular political
 values. The shock waves of the officials' ham-fisted action
 reverberated through the villages, compounds and hostels. In
 Johannesburg John Nkadimeng addressed a mass meeting. "I asked
 them, how can they be proud any more when their king has been
 taken away and they sit here with other people? What do they
 tell them, what do they say about their own life?'(50) These
 words also convey a sense of the importance of the Paramountcy
 for migrant's own sense of identity.
 Morwamotshe's deportation came only two weeks' after he had
 spoken out against the use of violence against Rangers. When the
 Khudhuthamaga assembled in early April in the aftermath of his
 17
?>^rest, it was more receptive to militant voices. Mosehla Sek-
 ;ikhune was the acting head. Stephen Zelwane Nkadimeng made an
 impassioned speech. He proclaimed that the Rangers were the cause
 of Morwamotshe's arrest and that they should be Killed. He said
 that at the last meeting people warned that the Chief might get
 involved if they fought with the Rangers. The chief had now been
 captured. Now was the time to kill the Rangers. A heated argument
 broke out in the meeting. Some shouted out that now was the time
 to kill them, while others argued that large amounts of money
 had been gathered to pay for lawyers which would be wasted if
 people took matters into their own hands. While a majority of the
 meeting remained reluctant, a vocal minority of younger men per-
 sisted in their demand for direct action. Finally, Mosehla Sek-
 hukhune agreed that the Rangers should be killed because it was
 they who were responsible for the arrest of the Paramount. There-
 after individuals called out the names of individuals considered
 to be Rangers and lists of intended victims were compiled.(51)
 In the weeks that followed discussions "continued amongst the
 group of younger men who described themselves as ' the soldiers
 of the Khudhuthamaga.'(52) A plan was drawn up to attack Rang-
 ers simultaneously throughout the region on a set day. This
 action was to be executed by the 'youth'. Fears were expressed,
 however, that violence would widen and deepen cleavages within
 the villages, leaving the relatives of those killed embittered
 and intent on revenge. Such an outcome would have defeated a
 central part of the purpose of the planned attacks on the Rangers
 which were seen as a means of overcoming internal disunity,
 restoring community cohesion, and thus of strengthening defences
 against both misfortune and external intervention. In an attempt
 to combat the potential for division, relatives of the intended
 victims were urged to lead the attacks.(53)
 On the 13 May men from the Reef and the reserve massed at the
 Native Commissioners' office at Schoonoord to demand the return
 of the Paramount. Kgobolala - the acting chief - and Mosehla
 had a meeting with the Commissioner during which Kgobolala
 pleaded, unsuccessfully, to be allowed to stand down. The Com-
 missioner then went out to speak to the crowd. He greeted them by
 saying 'Paramount Chief Kgobolala and the Bapedis' and then went
 on amidst mounting uproar to tell the assembly that Morwamotshe
 would never be allowed to return. Members of the crowd shouted
 out 'you are just here to collect our taxes not to appoint our
 chiefs. We will break down this building because it was built
 with our money, we will no longer pay taxes, and the police must
 no longer visit our villages'.(54) Thereafter the crowd moved
 off to a nearby clump of Marula trees. What happened then is
 shrouded in controversy. State witnesses later maintained that
 Mosehla and others made speeches giving explicit orders that
 'Rangers should be killed' but notwithstanding the generalised
 outrage at what had transpired it is improbable that they would
 so publicly have thrown all caution to the winds. More persuasive
 are the accounts that suggest that speakers laid the blame for
 this turn of events on the Rangers and that there were calls from
 within the crowd that 'the Rangers are known in every village
 and that they must be named and be kicked out of the villages.
 18
Others shouted out that they should be killed.'(55)
 It was three days later (on 16 May) that Kgobolala was so
 rudely awakened as described in the introduction. Another
 prominent Ranger at Mohlaletse, Thomas Mothabong Mabogoane, was
 also roused by a knock on his door before sunrise. He recalled
 I heard voices outside the door and when I opened it I saw
 Motubatse. I said 'whats wrong'? He then spoke in a soft voice
 so that I could not hear him. Then I realised what the whole
 village knows - they have come to kill me. I stepped outside and
 he stabbed me.(56)
 Mabogoane, though seriously wounded, managed to flee and both he
 and Kgobolala escaped with their lives. The fact that they sur-
 vived, though heavily outnumbered, suggests that their attackers
 still lacked the resolve to murder. The assault was not only
 half-hearted, it was half-cocked as well for the attacks at
 Mohlaletse took place in advance of the date set by the 'sol-
 diers of the Khudhuthamaga' for the eradication of the Rangers.
 Later on the same morning police went to the village of Manganeng
 to arrest two of the more militant speakers at the schoonoord
 meeting - Phaswane Nkadimeng who was heir ;to the office of
 local headman, and Stephan Zelwane Nkadimeng. The crowd that
 gathered blocked the police cars exit route. The policemen pa-
 nicked, opened fire and killed a man and a pregnant women and
 wounded several others before driving of at high speed with their
 captives. This episode snapped the final restraints and Rangers
 were attacked firstly in Manganeng and then throughout Sekhuk-
 huneland.(57)
 When news of the shooting reached Mohlaletse early the next day
 two regiments were mobilised to go to the assistance of the
 people at Manganeng but dispersed when they encountered a heavily
 armed police column. Palane Matjie recently returned from an
 abortive attempt to find and kill Mabowe Sekhukhune when he
 joined the men en route to Manganeng. After the regimensts colli-
 sion with the 'Boers' and now accompanied by Dihlare Masufi, he
 resumed the search for the second man on his list of targets
 Dinakanyane Seroka - who was widely believed to be using with-
 craft to assist the Rangers. Eventually they found him hiding in
 a donga.
 We said to him 'where are you from and where are you going?'
 He did not answer. Dihlare said to me 'Now what do we do with
 him?' I said 'he is our enemy we cannot just leave him, you are
 wasting time'. I hit him with a knobkierie on his head then Dih-
 lare stabbed him with a spear. It broke when it went into
 him....he managed to pull it out.... Then I stabbed him. I stab-
 bed him. I finished him off.
 After they had killed him, they took his pass book which they
 delivered to the moshate (chiefs place) saying ' you don't have
 to worry any longer we have killed him.'(58)
 The next day, despite numerous warnings, the leading Ranger
Chief Kgolane Kgoloko went back to his village of Madibong along
 with his induna Hakoropetje Maphiri. When they arrived a crowd
 of sixty people - mainly men with assegais and axes but also some
 women with stones - stormed down upon them. They fled in sepa-
 rate directions. The chief took refuge in a house but was pulled
 out and beaten and stabbed to death. A millstone was placed on
 his battered head. Mhaphiri was also cornered and killed.(59)
 Despite the spontaneous elements in the violence, the idea that
 its socially corrosive effects could be contained, still seems
 to have played some part in shaping the pattern of events. At the
 village of Mphanama, Mangase Mashabela was identified as a
 Ranger, was seized by an angry mob and was taken to be executed.
 His life was spared, however, when four of his sons in turn
 refused to strike the first blow.(60) At Hanganeng after the
 police shooting the enraged crowd surrounded the house of
 trader Motle Nkadimeng. It was led by a relative Maseboto Ga-
 natse . When he entered the house he encountered his intended
 victims daughter Moseane. She said 'is it you?' He replied 'yes
 it is I little niece'. She said 'is it really you that has come
 to kill my father?' He replied 'yes but if I kill you father you
 will not struggle or go wanting'. She begged to be allowed to
 stay with her father in his final moments but she was driven away
 before he was killed.(61)
 By the 18 May nine men had been killed, many more had been in-
 jured and the property of Rangers had been put to the torch.
 Some of the victims were publicly proclaimed supporters of Bantu
 Authorities, but others -including traders and teachers - were
 attacked partly because they fell into the social categories
 which were associated with the Rangers. But attacks were also
 quite specific. As the above cases indicate, while anger was
 vented on particular individuals, their families by and large
 escaped without serious physical injury. Once this wave of kill-
 ings was over a war of attrition followed. Police swarmed over
 Sekhukhuneland and many villagers took refuge in the mountains.
 There were further attacks - especially hut burnings- on Rangers,
 a widespread refusal to pay taxes and an intensified boycott of
 Ranger traders. Over three hundred men and women were arrested
 and trials on charges ranging from public violence to murder
 continued over the next two years. But officials also realised
 both that they had blundered by deporting Morwamotshe and that
 little progress could be made until he was returned. After offi-
 cials received private assurances that he would be more co-opera-
 tive in future Morwamotshe was returned home in August 1958. His
 arrival was greeted with jubilation and was seen as a great
 victory by the majority of his subjects.(62)
 Explaining the violence 7. ' I
 The preceding narrative contains elements of an explanation for
 the incidence and form of the violence. It grew out of a context
 of intensifying state intervention and repression in which core
 values of the society were placed under^ threat. Many people
 believed that their whole way of life faced destruction. The
 20
targets of the violence - the Rangers - were initially seen as
 agents of a malevolent enemy but as the conflict intensified they
 were increasingly believed to bear prime responsibility for the
 dangers that confronted the society. This depiction of their
 role was coloured by witchcraft beliefs, and the view gained
 ground that it was only by the removal of the 'enemy within '
 and the restoration of a cohesive community that disaster could
 be averted. The arrest and deportation of the Paramount consti-
 tuted the most profound affront imaginable to the social order
 which the makhudhuthamaqa sought to defend and proved to be a
 trigger for violence. But the shootings by the police at
 Manganeng helped to inject a more spontaneous and lethal element
 into the attacks.
 But the question remains of why it was that Rangers were increas-
 ingly represented as having primary responsibilty for arrests and
 deportations? It was after all very visibly white officials and
 police who were the key actors and few migrants or residents were
 under any misapprehensions about the relative power of the South
 African state. One part of an explanation is the widespread
 belief that, behind the scenes, Mabowe Sekhukhune and his allies
 were providing information to, and manipulating, officials in
 order to advance their own political ambitions. This interpreta-
 tions was also consisistent with deep seated models of causation
 which tended to place internal divisions and conflicts at the
 forefront of explanantions for profound set backs such as - for
 example - the conquest of the polity by the Ndwandwe in the 1820s
 and by the British in the 1870s. A further element in an explana-
 tion is the 'dual theory' of causation commonly contained within
 witchcraft beliefs which sets out to explain the particularity of
 misfortune. Among the Azande, to cite a- classic example, the
 question was posed as to 'why particular warriors, and not
 others are killed by particular enemies in battle. Clearly those
 slain were killed by enemy spears; but an internal enemy, the
 witch, has caused this particular death'.(63) It seems plausible,
 in a context in which witchcraft accusations were rife, that the
 particularity of the misfortunes of arrest and deportation where
 partly explained by the witchcraft believed to be practised by
 the Rangers.
 Another element of an explanation is highlighted by the mobili-
 sation of the regiments at Mohlaletse and by the centrality of
 the young 'soldiers of the Khudhuthamaga'. The Pedi kingdom had
 been defeated, disarmed and partially dismantled. But a military
 capacity and ethos had by no means been entirely extinguished.
 Accounts of the wars fought against the British and the Boers
 were told and retold and the role of internal divisions in
 providing fatal chinks in the defensive armour of the state was
 recalled. The reality of defeat and control was acknowledged but
 the legitimacy of the new rulers and especially their right to
 the land was far from fully recognised. Within the villages the
 socialisation of young men continued to hold up the ideal of the
 fearless warrior. Boys' principal form of recreation was stick
 fighting and young men learned to use rather more lethal assegais
 and battle axes. In towns some participated in the 'bruising
 21
comradeship' of the amalaita. During initiation youths' physical
 courage was repeatedly put to the test, they were steeped in
 military history and ultimately formed into regiments. One of the
 tasks entrusted to these regiments remained the defence of the
 community.(64)
 Despite this schooling of young men in the military arts, Sek-
 hukhuneland for much of the first half of the twentieth century
 was relatively free of serious violence. That was part of what
 differentiated it from the despised urban wilderness. But the
 young migrant 'soldiers of the Khudhuthamaga' had also had to
 learn to survive in the often violent worlds of the compound, the
 hostel, the location and, increasingly in the 1950s, the pris-
 on. (65) They were, in varying degree , exposed to the more mili-
 tant mass based politics of the period and became aware through
 discussions with migrants from other districts of violent resist-
 ance elsewhere to state attempts at rural restructuring. Armed
 with these experiences the 'young men' were prepared to challenge
 the more cautious approach of many of the older generation in
 the villages. This does not of course mean that these men
 relished violence or that murder came easily to them. Indeed the
 botched attempts on both Kgobolala and Mabogoane suggest that the
 young men involved were also partially paralysed by the sickening
 disjuncture that novices find between the theory and practice of
 war. But what is also true is that young men steeped in this
 culture and convinced that their communities faced, mortal dangers
 did not have to wrestle with the Ghandian or Christian pacifism
 and /or a commitment to nonviolent action that inhibited some the
 leadership of the ANC when they pondered the choices open to
 them.(66)
 Explanations which focus on the socialisation of young men,
 however do not explain the role that women played in the vio-
 lence. At Madibong, for example, women played a leading role in
 the resistance to and ultimately the murder of Chief Kgolane
 Kgoloko. Two women, Madinoge Pholokwe and Mapeetla Raseomane were
 subseqently sentenced to death for their part in these events.
 Madinoge was the senior wife of Chief Morwamotshe Kgoloko and she
 was two months pregnant when he died in 1953. Kgolane Kgoloko
 was appointed as regent on. his brother's death and was entrusted
 with responsibilty for Madinoge and the infant heir. He and
 Madinoge rapidly came into conflict, however, and she rejected
 his authority and established an alternative relationship with
 John Makopole Kgolane. When Kgolane indicated his support for
 BAs and started erecting fences, Madinoge emerged as the leader
 of the mounting popular hostility to his rule. The matter was
 taken to Mohlaletse and Kgolane was deposed and Madinoge was
 appointed as regent in his place. Kgolane did not accept this
 verdict and to the fury of his subjects continued to rule with
 the support of the Native Commissioner. When Kgolane returned to
 Madibong on that fateful day in May of 1958 it was believed that
 during his absence he had conspired with white officials to have
 Madinoge and her key supporters 'thrown away to St Helena'(de-
 ported) . The available evidence points to Madinoge as the effec-
 tive leader of the opposition to Kgolane but both in the pre-
 liminary hearings and in the Supreme Court trial that followed,
 22
the male oficers of the court could not bring themselves to
 accept that a woman could have been the leader and it was her
 hapless lover, John Kgolane, who was portrayed rather as the
 villain of the piece.(67)
 The story of Madinoge provides an example of the kind of role
 that the senior wives of chiefs could and did play in dynastic
 struggles, but as chief wife and potential regent she was hardly
 representative of women in general. However, in other villages,
 while women played a less prominent part in leadership, in as-
 saults and in killings, they were at the forefront the destruc-
 tion of fences and other manifestations of 'the Trust'. And
 there is also evidence of women challenging men to take action.
 In 1954 at the village of Mafefe, Naphtali Lebopo was working
 with two other rangers demarcating fields, when suddenly a woman
 appeared and shouted 'Men you better bring me those trousers, we
 will wear them because you are cowards.'(68) Then men appeared,
 somewhat sheepishly, holding assegais. The rangers' truck was
 close at hand and they scrambled into it and sped off.
 There were very few female migrant workers from Sekhukhuneland
 on the Rand in the 1940s and 1950s and those that were in the
 towns were not represented in the urban structures of Sebatakgo-
 mo. Women were also excluded from the central political forums
 within the chiefdoms and did not participate in the meetings of
 the Khudhuthamaga. But this exclusion did not exempt them from
 particitpating in the wider polarization of communities or pre-
 vent them from contributing to the growing conviction that
 Rangers should be removed from the villages. This was not simply
 a case of wives being swayed by the interests of their husbands.
 In the context of a migrant labour based economy in which remit-
 tances were often sporadic and sometimes ceased alltogether, many
 women were crucially dependant on access to land and cattle for
 their survival and for that of their families. While formal
 control over both was vested in the hands of their husbands and
 brothers de facto management of these resources by the 1940s and
 1950s ha3~ In iome instances devolved on women. 'The Trust'
 threatened to diminish or even to deny the access of many fami-
 lies to these vital props to their livelihood and also introduced
 a definition of rights to land and cattle in which only mens'
 rights to control these resources was fully recognised. Widows
 and more broadly female heads of households were anomalies in the
 minds of agricultural officials and were considered - at best
 to have diminished claims to land and livestock. They were
 therefore faced with being forced into still more dependent
 relations on male kin or even with outright dispossession. It is
 hardly suprising that women were numbered amongst the most mili-
 tant opponents of 'the Trust'.(69)
 Violence and the ANC
 While the use of violence ran directly counter to the official
 policy of the ANC and SACP, there were undercurrents of discus-
 sion within both movements which may have contributed to these
 23
events and which were certainly affected by the Sekhukhueland
 Revolt. In the aftermath of the 1952 defiance campaign there was
 considerable debate about the viability of passive resistance
 and while it was eventually accepted as continuing to be appro-
 priate for the meanwhile, some members including migrant workers
 from Sekhukhuneland like Flag Boshielo and John Kgoana Nkadimeng,
 believed in the idea of fighting back. Now the guestion was
 if you fight back how would you do it. So people like Flag analy-
 sed this question especially after 1953 now with the Mau Mau
 revolt everybody was talking about it. And we had discussion
 groups where we were talking about this guerrilla war, you know.
 We really cherished the idea that one day we would be able to
 fight back.(70)
 Flag Boshielo - a prominent member of both the underground SACP
 and the ANC and the original driving force behind Sebatakgomo -
 was particularly taken up with this issue and devoured all the
 material he could find on Mau Mau. In the early 1950s he went to
 Sekhukhuneland to train as a herbalist and to explore the possi-
 bilities of rural guerrilla warfare. On his return he argued
 still more strongly for serious consideration to be given to
 armed struggle. One important context in which he expressed his
 views was that of the grouping of migrant workers from Sekhuk-
 huneland who formed the inner circle of the leadership of Seba-
 takgomo. Boshielo was banned in 1955 and restricted to Jo-
 hannesburg but remained an influential figure.(71) The evidence
 presently available does not make it possible to establish con-
 clusively what influence - if any - these views had on the think-
 ing of the 'soldiers of the Khudhuthamaga.' But it is suggestive
 that Stephen Zelwane Nkadimeng who led the demand for violence
 against the Rangers within the Khudhuthamaga, was also a member
 of the ANC and the SACP and was probably well versed in these
 early debates about armed struggle.
 Whether or not they were influenced by discussions within the
 ANC and the Party, these events certainly played a part in fuell-
 ing the debate about armed struggle within sections of the na-
 tional movements. The willingness of communities to take up
 arms, the fact that the mountains and caves of Sekhukhuneland had
 once again given rebels shelter and that the state had been
 forced to return the Paramount, all gave food for thought to men
 from Sekhukhuneland like Boshielo, Nkadimeng, John Phala and
 Elias Motsoaledi who were ultimately to play significant roles
 in Umkhonto We Sizwe. The Revolt also provided Boshielo with
 additional ammunition in his campaign to put armed struggle on
 the political agenda. The question may have cropped up in the
 regular discussions he held with Mandela and Mick Harmel. The
 law firm of Tambo and Mandela played an important part along
 with Shulemoth Muller in challenging the deportations and orga-
 nising the defence of the rebels. And the ANC and SACP leader-
 ship, embroiled in the interminable Treason Trial, had ample
 opportunity to reflect on the significance of these events. Not
 least of all they were confronted by requests from militants
 from Sekhukhuneland and subsequently from Pondoland for guns in
 24
order to be able to pursue their struggles more effectively. And
 while they were not yet able to meet that demand, they did put
 emissaries from Pondoland, whose own struggles were just begin-
 ning into contact with veterans of the 1958 Revolt.(72)
 One must be careful, of course, not to overstate the role of
 either Boshielo or the Sekhukhuneland Revolt in the shift to
 armed struggle. Clearly both are no more than pieces in a very
 much larger puzzle.(73) But this evidence does provide some
 context for Mandela's acknowledgement of the role played by the
 rural revolts in prompting this shift and it also helps explain
 why Elias Motsoaledi when asked in 1993 to describe the forma-
 tion of MK began his account with the battle against 'the Trust'
 in the northen Transvaal. For him, at least, the Sekhukhuneland
 Revolt was the opening skirmish in the war of liberation.(74)
 Certainly once MK was formed the urban and rural networks of
 Sebatakgomo provided a rich source of recruits. Godfrey Sekhuk-
 hune back in Sekhukhuneland after his banishment to Natal became
 the key contact and recruiter for MK. John Phala recalls of the
 early days
 Organising the volunteers to go to MK it was simple and easy
 because Sebatakgomo was strong.... In the Sekhukhune area we
 would just call the people [in the village] in a mass meeting and
 say " The ANC wants soldiers, the ANC wants soldiers." Then
 everybody was rushing to call his or her son to come and join
 MK. Here in the [Jane Furse] hospital was the headquarters of
 recruiting for the ANC. Godfrey Sekhukhune was a male nurse in
 this hospital. So when we organise the volunteers to join MK we
 used the ambulance. So Motsoaledi was coming to collect people
 here at the hospital because they have been collected in an
 ambulance from all over our villages.(75)
 Just what the somewhat staid collection of doctors at the
 hospital in 1962 would have said if Iney had discovered the
 purpose to which their ambulance service was being put beggars
 the imagination!
 Conclusion
 Policemen and prosecutors were right to suggest that the
 Khudhuthamaga played a significant part in the Sekhukhuneland
 Revolt. But the picture of a sinister conspiracy bent on violence
 which they painted in the courts in an attempt to secure the
 conviction and execution of its members, obscures as much as it
 reveals. As we have seen the organisation emerged out of popular
 concern - especially among migrant workers - that chieftainship
 would become an instrument of Bantu Authorities and the hated
 'Trust'. It was part of a remarkable attempt to make real the
 ideal that Kgoshi ke kgoshi ka batho which resonated both with
 the democratic values articulated within the ANC and with common-
 er conceptions of chieftainship. Sebatakgomo and the Khudhuthama-
 ga were able to mobilise a very broad following and to effect
 significant changes in the nature of chiefly rule partly because
 of a strategy and ideology which celebrated chieftainship - espe-
 cially the paramountcy - at the same time as it set about trans-
 25
forming it. But it is also important to recall that the attempt
 to democratise the institution never challenged a second funda-
 mental proposition which was 'Kqoshi ke kqoshi ka madi ke bok-
 goshi'(A chief is a chief by the blood of a chief) which stressed
 its hereditary basis. And the exclusion of women and uninitiated
 men from key political forums and processes went unquestioned.
 Equally while the Khudhuthamaga mustered widespread popular
 support and participation it was also a forum in which dissent
 was viewed with mounting hostility and in which the eradication
 of cleavages within the community became an overriding value.
 The perception of individuals stigmatised as Rangers evolved from
 one which portrayed them as agents of the system to one in which
 they bore primary responsibility for its actions. They were first
 shouted down, then driven from the villages and finally assaulted
 and even killed. These were extreme circumstances in which commu-
 nities faced a fundamental assault from state structures which
 commanded very little legitimacy and provided almost no meaning-
 ful channels for the representation of popular sentiment. None-
 theless it must also be said that the popular political culture
 which evolved in this bleak environment, in which division,
 dissent and disaster were seen as intimately interconnected, in
 turn constituted stony ground for the nurture a culture of
 debate and tolerance of divergence. The political legacy of the
 Khudhuthamaga is, in short, ambiguous. It contains elements which
 could well feed into contemporary attempts to construct a demo-
 cratic rural order. It also displays symptoms of the political
 intolerance and witch burnings which disfigured the fleeting
 dominance of the 'comrades^ in Sekhukhuneland in the 1980s. But
 it should also be borne in mind that the young ' soldiers of the
 Khudhuthamaga' and the even younger 'comrades' of the later
 period saw themselves as being at war and war has rarely been
 democracy's friend.(75)
 End notes
 The research on which this paper is based would not have hap-
 pened without the prompting of the late Godfrey Sekhukhune and
 the help and companionship of Isaac Sekhukhune, Stephen Motu-
 batse, Cedric Rachidi, Philip Mbiba and the late Philip Mnisi.
 Hugh Macmillan and Helen Bradford have also been generous with
 their help. This paper has also benefitted from ongoing discus-
 sions with Stephan Schirmer and Deborah James made valuable
 comments on an earlier draft.
 l/.Rand Daily Mail 30/7/1958; UW,CPL, A410/C2-9, Sekhukhneland,16
 June 1958; SC4,CC,1959/13/188/1 evidence of Kgobolale Sekhukhune,
 29/7/1958.
 2/.RDM 24/5/1958 and 22/5/1958.
 3/.RDM30/7/1958; r\~S7^ 1<?/?,./+?; CNC Pietersburg to SNA. 26/5/1958.
 Khudhuthamaga is also rather more mundanely translated as execu-
 tive committee but this rendition held little appeal for those
 who sought to establish the existence of an atavistic conspira-
 cy. Under police interrogation one of the key members explained
 26
'Kudu Thamaga means a secret, it is just like a tortoise, a
 person cannot establish where its head or legs are. It is not
 easy to kill because its head is not prominent. The only way you
 can kill it is to throw it in the fire' NTS 7694/443/332/ 'Onrus
 in Sekhukhuneland en Siamsake, 1925-1960, Seraki Kgoloko,
 6/10/58; S.Kgoloko, interview 1, 2/12/87.
 4/.P.Delius, 'Sebatakgomo; Migrant Organization, the ANC and the
 Sekhukhuneland Revolt'JSAS15,4,(1989); Sebatakgomo and the Zout-
 pansberg Balemi Association : The ANC, the Communist Party and
 Rural Organization, 1939-1955.'JAH,34(1993).
 5/.P.Delius, The Land Belongs to Us(Johannesburg,1983) and Abel
 Erasmus: Power and Profit in the Eastern Transvaal ' in W.Bei-
 nart, P.Delius and S.Trapido eds. Putting-a Plough to the Ground
 (Johannesburg, 1986)
 6/.D.R.Hunt, 'An Account of the Bapedi, Bantu Studies,4 (1931)
 see also UW,CPL,AD/1438/2 Native Economic Commission(NEC)
 D.R.Hunt, Lydenburg 20/8/1930.
 7/. Ibid. See also UW,CPL,AD,/1438/2 NEC evidence of JC Vates
 Middelburg 22/8/1930 and B.Sansom,' Leadership and Authority in
 Pedi Chiefdom' Unpublished PhD thesis, University of Manchester
 (1970)pp.30-60.
 8/.This for reasons of space is a rather static and truncated
 treatment of Pedi migrancy. For a much fuller discussion of
 changing patterns of migrancy and the changing attitudes of
 migrants from Sekhukhuneland see Delius,' Sebatakgomo; Migrant
 Organisation' pp.582-610. See also Mohube Phala interview 2
 8/1/1988 and M.Nchabeleng, 'Boipusho' unpublished manuscript
 1959.
 9/.UW,CPL,AD,/1438/2,NEC,Evidence of ? D.R.Hunt, Lydenburg
 20/8/1930 and evidence of J.C.Yates Middelburg 22/8/30. E. Mot-
 soaledi, interview, 19/4/1990. J.Nchabeleng, interview 1, 15
 /12/1987; J.K. Nkadimeng, interview 1, 6/6/88; P. Nkadimeng,
 interview 1, 6/6/1988, N. Sekhukhune, interview 1, 9/8/87.
 D.P.Lebopo, interview 1, 11/7/88. S.Morwamotshe, interview 1,
 29/9/87; M. Phala, interview 1, 6/10/87. M.Molepo 'Peasants and
 or Proletarians'ASI seminar paper 26/9/83. This precarious bal-
 ance - rather like the liquidity of a bank - was maintained
 partly because not all of those who could claim rights to land
 did so at any one time. The fact that most households could
 secure rights to land does not of course mean that all could and
 there were families who were without either land or cattle or
 both. The evidence does not - at present - permit any reliable
 quantification of the ratios involved or the capacity to distin-
 guish between households which held reasonable hopes of securing
 rights to these resources in the future and those that did not.
 10). J. Phala, interview 1,; E. Mcrtisoaledi , 1; J. K. Nkadimeng, 1,
 27
; G M Pitje, interview 1, 4/3/1987. Part of the depth of these
 divisions relates to the particular role played by missionaries
 in the nineteenth century. See Delius.The Land and P.Delius, The
 Conversion (Johannesburg 1984) One must of course also beware -
 even at this point in time - of overstating the starkness of
 the division. In some ways the concepts of Baditshaba/Baheiteni
 and Bakristi/Majakane represented contending ideal types - actual
 social relationships and practices presented a considerably more
 blurred picture and both categories of people shared many day to
 day experiences both of life in the villages and of the world of
 migrant labour.For example - as I have shown elswhere - as
 significant though still small amount of children from baditshaba
 families were attending school in the 1930s and 1940s. Delius,
 'Sebatakgomo ; Migrant Organisation ',pp.595-597.
 11/.See for example - NTS342/90/55 Chief Kgolokoe 1910 -1953.
 12/.G.Pitje, 'Traditional Systems of Male Education Amongst the
 Pedi and Cognate Tribes,' African Studies,9,2,3,4,(1950)p.47.
 13/.B.K.Hlakudi, interview 2, 18/11/87.
 14/.Ibid; M.J.Sekhukhune, interview 2, 14/10/88; E. Motsoaledi,1;
 UW,CPL,AD,1348/2,NEC, evidence of D.R.Hunt 20/8/1930;
 NTS6813/19/318/ Pitso records 1929-1936; NTS1381/39/213 Bapedi
 Tribal Levy 1925-1933..
 15/.Sansom,' Leadership and Authority',p20. This rather congested
 paragraph is distilled from scores of interviews conducted with
 now retired migrant workers in several villages in Sekhukhune-
 land and on the rand between 1987 and 1990. See for example
 B.K.Hlakudi, interview l, 28/8/87 and interview 2; JT Moukangwe,
 interview 1, 29 Sept 1988. M.Phala.l and 2 ; J.M.Phala, interview
 1, 18/11/87.
 16/.Delius ,' Sebatakgomo, Migrant Organisation',pp603-5
 J.Bekker, 'We will plough where we like; resistance to the appli-
 cation of Betterment Schemes in the Pietersburg area, 1937- 1946'
 BAHons dissertation, University of the Witwatersrand, 1989.
 P.Kgobe,'Resistance to Betterment in the Pietersburg Area; The
 Case of Ga-Matlala, 1940-1980, BAHons dissertation, University of
 the Witwatersrand 1992. B.Hirson, Yours for the Union(Johannes-
 burg, 1989) ch.10.
 17/.J.M.Phala 1. See also, for example, B.K. Hlakudi, interviews
 1 and 2. These concerns run through numerous interviews.
 18/.NTS331/55/55; Chief Sekhukhune Bapedi 1920-57 ;NTS 342/90/55
 Chief Kgolokoe 1910-1953; NTS1813/138/276/ Minutes of Chief
 Native Commissioners conference, 29/30 November 1955.
 19/.Ibid quotation drawn from NTS331/55/55; Minute from office
 of the First Minister to Governor- General nd 1956.
 20/.NTS3331/55/55 Chief Sekhukhune Bapedi 1920-57.; M.Nchabeleng,
 28
Boipusho; G Sekhukhune, interview 1, 11/7/89; T Mabogoane,inter-
 view 1, 7/12/87;B.K.Hlakudi, 2; S.Motubatse, interview 2,
 6/10/87.
 2l/.M.J.Sekhukhune, interview 1, 21/10/87; B.K.Hlakudi, 1 and 2;
 G.Sekhukhune, 1.
 22/.ibid See also NTS 7694/443/332/ Onrus in Sekhukhuneland en
 Stamsake 1925-1960, pp. 56, 46, 37,72,75,76,77,119/20,124,243-9.
 23/.M.J.Sekhukhune,!; G.Sekhukhune,1; B.K.Hlakudi, 1 and 2;
 M.Ntshabeleng,'Boipusho'.
 24/.NTS342/90/55, Minutes of meeting at Malegale 20/8/1953.
 25/.G.Sekhukhune,1.
 26/.NTS/342/90/55, W.Eiselen to CNC, 9/6/1953.
 27/.UW,CPL,A4lO/C2-9, Sekhukhuneland, 16 June 1958.
 28/.Nchabeleng, Boipusho; N.P.Sekhukhune, interview 1, 9/8/87;
 NTS8977/198/326 Bapedi Tribal Authority 1957-58.
 29/.Delius, 'Sebatakgorao and Migrant Organisation' pp605-616.
 30/.Ibid and Delius, Sebatakgomo and the ZBA, pp306-313; NTS
 7694/443/332, Elekia Maraagase Nchabeleng 23/1/1959; H.O.Monnig
 The PeeH,(Pretoria 1967) p.40.
 31/.Ibid. See also M.Ramokgadi,interview 1 ? ;J.Mashego;interview
 1, 1 February 1988; J.K.Nkadimeng, interview 1, 6/6/1988;
 M.Phala, interview 2. M.Nchabeleng ,' Boipusho'.
 32/.J. Nkadimeng, 1: NTS 7694/443/332, Elekia Mamagase Nchabeleng
 32/1/1959; NTS8977/198/326 Bapedi Tribal Authority 1957-58.
 33/.NTS 7694/443/332, Elekia Mamagase Nchabeleng; J.Ntshabeleng ,
 interview 1. Both Nkadimeng and Boshielo were active in the
 underground structures of the SACP and this may well have has
 some influence on the quest for secrecy.
 34/.Ibid . See also Seraki Kgoloko, 12/9/1958; M.Ntshabeleng,
 Boipusho; J.Nkadimeng, 1. N.Sekhukhune, interview 1, 9/8/1987
 and interview 2, 29/1/1988. M.Phala,1; UW,CPL,A410/c2-9 Sekhuk-
 huneland, 16 June 1958.
 35/.Ibid
 36/.NTS8977/189/326 Bapedi Tribal Authority 1957-8, P Koornhof
 to SBA, 30/3/57.
 37/.NTS7694/443/332 Seraki Kgoloko, 12/9/58. J Nkadimeng, 1,
 29
J.Ntshabeleng, 1, N.Sekhukhune 1.
 38/.M.Nchabeleng, 'Boipusho'; NTS8977/189/326 Bapedi Tribal
 Authority 1957-8. N.Sekhukhune,?1. J.Nchabeleng 1 and 2.
 39/.NTS7694/443/332, Seraki Kgoloko, 12/9/58; J.Phala, unpub-
 lished manuscript.
 40/. Ibid
 41/.Ibid see also N.Sekhukhune,1 and 2 ; J.Nchabeleng 1 and 2,
 M.Phala 1 and 2; M. Nchabeleng, Boipusho; S.Motla, interview l,
 7/12/87.
 42/.NTS8977/189/326/ Bapedi Tribal Authority 1957-8; SS/CC/
 13/1/3/9/58 see eg. evidence of Madinoge Kgoloko, Phetedi Kgolo-
 ko Morewane Mashabani,. Phaswane Mashabela and Johannes Mashabe-
 la.
 43/.Sansom, 'Leadership',p.35,64. M. Nchabeleng, Boipusho; N.
 Sekhukhune, 1 and 2. The term ' voortrekker' appears in court
 records and in Sansoms' account as an alternative to Makhudhutha-
 maga but the terra is now rarely used and while there are specula-
 tive accounts of its derivation and meaning I have not through
 interviews been able to clarify the issue. I have therefore used
 the widely used and understood term Makhudhuthamaga.
 44/.Ibid See also G.Sekhukhune, 1 ; M.J. Sekhukhne 1 and 2; P.
 Matjie, interview 1, 10/10/87; J.Nchabeleng, 1 and 2; M. Nchabe-
 leng 1;K. L. Manailane,interview 1, 11 April 1988, Interview 2,
 30/11/1988; D. Radingoane,interview 1, 13/12/88. These percep-
 tions as we will see below also influenced the choice of targets
 for attack when violence broke out in 1958.
 45/.M.Nchabeleng , 'Boipusho'.
 46/.M. Nchabeleng, interview 2, 5/4/88.
 47/. Ibibd G.Pitje, interview 1, 4/3/1987; Pitje, 'Male Educa-
 tion', pp.76,107; Monnig, The Pedi pp.76-7. M .Mampuru, inter-
 view 3, 17/11/88; P Matjie,1. Elements of the context and charac-
 terisation of the Rangers have strong resonances with classic
 analyses of withcraft beliefs and accusations. Gluckman has, for
 example, stressed the importance of underlying 'moral crises
 created for a group which sets high value on unity as its own
 development leads to a proliferations of conflicting interests
 within it,' M.Gluckman, . Allocation of Responsibility (Manches-
 ter,1972) pp.24-25; while Mayer concluded ' Witch hunting, then,
 goes together with a feeling that basic sentiments, values and
 interests are being endangered. A society in order to feel secure
 must feel that not only its material interests but also its way
 of life, its fundamental values are safe. Witch hunting may
 increase whenever either of these elements seem gravely threat-
 ened' . A witch is ' the traitor within the gates .... is on the
 wrong side of the moral line ... He has secretly taken the wrong
 side in the basic social opposition between "us" and "them" .'
 30
P.Mayer, 'Witches' in M.Warwick ed Witchcraft and Sorcery (Lon-
 don, 1970)pp. 60-63.
 48/.NTS8977/198/326, Ginger Kambula, ? September 1957.
 49/.NTS 7694/443/332, Seraki Kgoloko, 6/10/1958; See also
 P.Matjie, 1 and L. Motubatse, l and 2.
 50/.J.Nkadimeng, 1; M.Nchabeleng,' Boipusho'; M.Phala, l and 2.
 51/.NTS7694/443/332, Seraki Kgoloko, 6/10/1958; G.Sekhukhune,1;
 P.Matjie, 1; L.Motubatse 2.
 52/. Ibid;J.Phala, unpublished manuscript, Robben Island, nd.
 53/.M.Nchabeleng, l; J.Nchabeleng 1 and 2 ;SS/CC/14/2 Mangase
 Mashabela, 30/9/58.
 54/.NTS 7694/443/332, Elekia Mamagase Nchabeleng, 23/1/1959,
 Seraki Kgoloko, 6/10/1958; N.Sekhukhune 1 and 2.
 55/. Ibid; SC/CC/1959/13/185/1 evidence Stephen Sekhukhune 29/
 7/58, Charlie Sekhukhune 31/7/1958; SS/CC/185/14/2, evidence
 Legane Mashigwane, Nkopodi Ramphelane, 8/10/1958, Malekutu Thu-
 lare, 9/10/1958; SS/185/15/3 Mabatani Marutani; P.Nkadimeng,
 interview 1, 6/6/1958.
 56/.T Mabogoane, interview 1, 7 December 1987.
 57/.P.Nkadimeng, 1; J.Phala, unpublished manuscript, Robben
 Island,nd.; SC/CC/1959/ 13/185/1 Evidence Major W.Kokot.
 58/.P.Matjie, l;see also SS/CC 111/1959/ Crown vrs Pelane
 Matjie;and M.T.Sekuhkune, interview 1, 12 August 1987; L.
 b
 59/.SC/CC/1959/13/185/1 evidence of D.Kgoloko, P Segobodi,J.H.Van
 Rooyen; R. Moetalo, interview 1,7/6/1988. M.Raseomane,interview
 1, 14/12/88.
 60/.SC/CC/ 185/14/2 evidence of Mangase Mashabela,20/9/58.
 61/.SC/SS/185/13/1/ evidence of Kabule Motle 11/9/1958.
 62/. M.Nchabeleng, Boipusho; NTS 7694/443/332, Onluste in Sekhuk-
 huneland en stamsake 1929-53 ; G .Sekhukhune, 1; N.Sekhukhune,1.
 M.Sekhukhune, 1. UW,CPL,410/C2-9, Sekhukhuneland, 16 June 1958.
 63/. Gluckman , The Allocation p.7; See also D.Hunt, 'The Bape-
 di'pp.284-285 and P.Delius, '"The Pedi Polity under Sekwati and
 Sekhukhune' London University Phd 1980 pp.354-56; Berliner
 Missions Berichte,1862,p331; J.Winter,'The Tradition of Ra'lo-
 lo'SAJSIX(1912)pp97-8; Nchabeleng,'Boipusho'; M Nchabeleng, 2.
 64/.Delius, The LandPS, 181-246 G.Pitje,^ Male Education'pp!05-
 199; Monnig, The Pedi~ppll7-120; M.Mampuru,1; E.M.E Mothubatse,
 interviews, 1-3, 8-16/11/1976; J.K.Nkadimeng, 1.
 31
65/. E. Motsoaledi, interviews 1 and 2, J.Nkadimeng, 1 and 3,
 T.M.Sekhukhune, 1 and 2, N.P.Sekhukhune 1 and 2. See also
 W.Beinart, 'Political and Collective Violence in Southern African
 Historiography,'JSAS18;3;1992 esp.473-486; P.Bonner, 'The Rus-
 sians on the Reef in P. Bonner, P.Delius and D.Posel (eds)
 Apartheids Gen<?s_is(Johannesburg, 1993) For a much fuller discus-
 sion than is possible here of changing patterns of migrant
 association and politics see Delius,' Sebatakgomo'pp. 597-603.
 66/.T.Lodge, Black Politics in South Africa( Johannesburg,
 1983)pp.106,232-234.
 67/.M.Raseomane,interview 1, 14/12/88; R.Moetalo, interview 1,
 ?/6/ 1988; K.Lerutla,interview 1,23/9/87; M.Lerutla,interview
 1,1/2/89. L.Mampuru, interview 1,11/7/89; NTS342/90/55, Chief
 Kgolokoe, 1907-53; SC/CC/185/13/1 evidence Madinogo Kgoloko,
 Phetedi Kgoloko, Morewane Mashabani ; See also SS/CC/185/15/3
 Evidence of Phetedi Kgoloko, John Makopole Kgolane, Madinoge
 Pholokwe.
 68/.N.Lebopo, interview 1;. 7/4/88.
 69/.B.Hlakudi, l and 2; M. Raseomane, 1; L.Mampuru, 1; M.Lerutla,
 1; R.Moetalo, 1; R.Kgetsepe, interview 1, 9/2/88; N.Lebopo, 1;
 D.P.Lebopo, interview 1, 11/7/88 and interview 2, 8/9/88;
 D.Magomarele, interview 1, 20/1/1988;NTS 10276/59/423/4. G.Ackron
 to CNC 18/5/49; The category of ' widow ' which runs through
 both official and oral accounts probably refers to a range of
 households which for a variety of reasons( of which the death of
 a spouse was only one) were effectively female headed.Plans for
 trust farms adjoining the Sekhukhuneland reserves in the early
 1950s included large rural villages comprising of individuals who
 had been deprived of rights to land or stock. As to the 'large
 numbers of widows who previously held lands in this group of
 farms... which is a feature of all Trust farms in Sekukuniland..
 it is doubtful whether widows will make good farmers they
 should get one morgen [instead of three or six morgen]... the
 fact that the minimum rental payable for land is LI whether it is
 one or five morgen in extent is a factor which may induce widows
 to move into a rural village as soon as it is established'
 NTS10248/38/423/3. Aapiesboom Trust Farms 16/1/1954. See also
 NTS10248/423/2 and A/- C/. Mutsi Groep Trust Plase.This is a
 somewhat different picture to the one drawn of processes in the
 Ciskei and Border region in the same period. The contrast is
 partly accounted for by the difference between women without
 rights to land who were able to secure' some access to land
 through 'the Trust' and women in the Sekhukhuneland case who had
 access to land and who confronted the danger of this being sig-
 nificantly reduced or even denied. That is not to say - of
 course - that there were not some women in the broader region for
 whom 'Trust land' was considerably better than no land. See A.
 Mager,'The People Get Fenced': Gender Rehabilitation and African
 Nationalism in the Ciskei and Border Region, 1945-1955'
 JSA518,1992 esp.pp.778-782. Another vital issue in this period
 was passes for women which were of course a crucial issue in the
 Zeerust Revolt and were a source of conflict just to the north of
 Sekhukhuneland. No attempt was made by officials to introduce the
 32
issue in the already volatile context of Sekhukhuneland but news
 of these struggles travelled on migrant networks and was presuma-
 bly interpreted as yet another threat both to the ' freedom of
 the chiefdoms' and to the position of women. See C.Hooper,Brief
 Authqority (London, 1960) and D.M.C.Sepuru,'Succession Disputes,
 Macongress and Rural Resistance at GA-Matlala, 1919-1980' BAHons
 dissertation, University of the Witwatersrand 1992, p.107-8.
 70/.J.Nkadimeng and J.Phala, interview l,' 17/6/93.
 71/.Ibid and J.Nkadimeng, interview 3, 3/4/91. Motsoaledi,
 1,19/4/90, 23/4/90 and 3, 11 /5/1990 ; See also Delius,' Seba-
 takgomo and the ZBA'pp.306-313.
 72/. J.Nkadimeng, 1 and 3, Motsoaledi l and 2 and especially 5,
 7/4/93; J.Nkadimeng and J. Phala, 1.; L.Mdingi, interviewed by
 H.Bradford 20/9/90; N.Mandela, No Easy Walk to Freedom(London,
 1973) pl68;
 73/.P.Bonner, B.Harmel and I are currently working on a Albert
 Einstein Institute(AEI) supported oral history project to try
 to put the elements of the puzzle together.
 74/.AEI, E.Motsoaledi, interview, 7 April 1993
 75/.AEI, J.Nkadimeng and J.Phala,interview, 17 June 1993
 76/. P.Delius,'Migrants Comrades and Rural
 land, 1950-1987' Transformation 9, 1990.
 Revolt, Sekhukhune-
 33