“I admire Ida Mntwana, who reminds me of my great-grandmother Mmapeu and her resilience,” says heritage guide Tumo Bopape, touching the hand of a statue of the second president of the ANC Women’s League. A life-size bronze, Mntwana gleams in the sun at the Long March to Freedom exhibition at Century City in Cape Town.
As a woman, she was allowed to join the ANC only in 1943, despite being a unionist and struggle leader for decades before that. “I saw Mmapeu’s struggles and my grandmother’s and my mother’s. I would not be where I am without these women in my life,” Bopape says.
Long March to Freedom celebrates 100 heroes of South Africa’s liberation struggle and Mntwana is one of his favourites, says Bopape, quoting her rallying cry: “Gone are the days when the place of women was in the kitchen... Today, they are marching side by side with men on the road to freedom.”
Walking among the struggle icons in this outdoor exhibition evokes a visceral response among visitors, some of whom snap selfies with those they most admire. These vital and towering artworks demand respect.
The creativity embodied in each statue gives them personality and makes them accessible, says Johannesburg sculptor, Sandy Maytham-Bailey. “I loved Sol Plaatje and his bicycle. The finer details like the bicycle or the dog [Oliver Schreiner’s pet, Rita] make them more relatable than a bust on a plinth.”
Plaatje — a linguist, intellectual and founding member of the South African Native National Congress, which later became the ANC — in 1913 cycled long distances through the Free State and Eastern Cape recording the devastation caused by the Natives’ Land Act, against which he had protested.
More than 40 artists and their proteges had the freedom to cast the heroes the way they imagined and among them was Johannesburg sculptor and ceramicist Marina Walsh, acclaimed for her statue of veteran activists Walter and Albert Sisulu in Diagonal Street.
Dali Tambo, the son of another iconic couple in the liberation movement — Adelaide Tambo and the late former president of the ANC OR Tambo — is the CEO of the National Heritage Project Company (NHPC), the nonprofit organisation that launched the Long March to Freedom. Its dream is to expand this “pantheon of liberation heroes” to 400 at least.
Walsh says: “I was one of the first group of sculptors that worked on the heritage project. I was commissioned to do a bronze of Bishop Colenso, holding a Bible with his long cassock flaring out as he walked,” she says. “We were permitted to add our own mark and finishes. I, for instance, decided to have a Braille and an English page cast in relief for the open Bible pages and decorated his cassock with strelitzias.”
Expressing gratitude to Tambo for the opportunity, she says: “In those early days we [the sculptors] were introduced to one another and liberally shared information. We had all been working in isolation and, thanks to Dali, we were all brought together around his lunch table and could share ideas. I learnt an enormous amount in a short time.”
Walsh says: “I love the whole project as an educational, interactive memorial to all those who fought for freedom in our country.”
Without a guide to lead the way through the “army of achievers” arrayed on the rugby field-size space, the exhibition can feel like a maze, says Maytham-Bailey.
The setting between the Canal Walk mall and the busy N1 freeway can seem incongruous. In an academic paper five years ago a visual studies researcher, Marnell Kirsten, criticised the proximity to Century City, which she described as a “site of exclusion and privilege”.
But the location, with Table Mountain as a backdrop, does not diminish the power of Long March to Freedom.
The finer details like the bicycle (Sol Plaatje’s) or the dog (Oliver Schreiner’s dog Rita) make them more relatable than a bust on a plinth.
— Joburg sculptor Sandy Maytham-Bailey
South Africa’s first freedom fighters were of Khoi origin and lived around Table Mountain, resisting the colonisation of Cape by the Dutch East India Company, says Bopape. The portrayals of Autshumato (1625-1663), Nommoa Doman Goringhaiqua (1618-1663) and Xhosa and Zulu chiefs with their proud bearing, arrows, spears and headdresses conjure up the ancient heroes of mythology.
But their stories of resistance, struggle and love are very human, like that of former slave Louis van Mauritius who married the woman to whom he was once “leased”.
Beside Harriette Colenso, Bishop Colenso’s daughter, on a timescale, women only start to feature prominently about halfway through the procession. They are holding petitions, books, handbags and glasses, sculpted in detail.
The heroes do not originate only from South Africa, with the exhibition honouring icons who shone internationally and elsewhere on the continent, from Martin Luther King Jr and Fidel Castro to Julius Nyerere and Samora Machel closer to home.
“This is what makes [it] so spectacular, it talks about the big guns and the ordinary people,” says Bopape.
All histories are contested and this exhibition is no different, as he illustrates when talking about Chief Tshwane, who according to oral history lived in the area now named after him in the mid-1800s. There is no documentary evidence that he was a historical figure, but Bopape says he traces his ancestry back to the chief.
While he is showing us around the exhibition, another visitor, Mandla Hlatshwayo, 57, from Tshwane, remarks that the show is an eye-opener for him. “This is great history of South Africa and we never knew about it. We never knew some of the leaders who are here played such a massive role in the liberation of the country.”
Trainee guide Janae James says: “I like seeing the emotion of everybody reacting to the statues. Everybody responds differently.”
Sarah Haines, heritage manager of the NHPC, says the project began hosting schoolchildren for visits about 18 months ago.
“For some years we had been looking for a way to be relevant and meaningful... And then we got funding to bring 14,000 schoolchildren through here,” she says. The pupils do lessons and activities, presenting what they have learnt and taking home a backpack and other mementoes of their experience.
“Some young people are really angry and they’re not interested in voting so we’ve been talking about what we can do,” says Haines. Bopape approached the Electoral Commission about donating ballot boxes so the team can raise awareness about voting and then hold a mock ballot, in a bid to kindle enthusiasm.
Says Haines: “We’re also now getting feedback from the schools that [we] have made an actual difference to their exam results.”
That’s the power of this exhibition: it brings history to life.
It evokes a range of feelings, from wonder to surprise. For instance, an unconventional portrayal of the magnificent diva, Miriam Makeba, has sparked debate among visitors about her apparent resemblance to another legendary singer, pop icon Brenda Fassie.
Musician, human rights and cultural activist Johnny Clegg is among the most recent additions, with his likeness unveiled on March 27. Tambo stated at the time: “Including Johnny Clegg in Long March to Freedom is a tribute to the social transformation artists can generate through their work.
“Johnny was an exceptional individual; known as the ‘White Zulu’ he bridged cultures with his music, he used it as a weapon of resistance, he challenged injustice, and proved that music transcends all divides.”
ANC leader Kader Asmal joined late last year and Archbishop Desmond Tutu was installed two years ago. People only become eligible to join the throng after they die.
Near the front of the march, alongside Nelson and Winnie Mandela, are the Sisulus. “They were apart so much in life, their family asked if they could be together here,” says Bopape.
Walking in their shadows evokes a longing to follow in their footsteps.
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