Why a Zulu Now Supports Orania’s Self-Determination

Challenging My Own Biases

A few years ago, like many South Africans, I dismissed Orania as nothing more than a relic of the past. A place clinging to outdated ideals, built on nostalgia for Apartheid. I assumed its residents were simply racists refusing to move forward.

But the more I explored South African history, the more my perspective began to shift. The turning point came when I read Hermann Giliomee’s The Rise & Demise of the Afrikaners. That book challenged my assumptions in ways I hadn’t expected. Not only was I wrong about Orania’s foundations, but I also came to realize that, at its core, I shared a key value with its residents: the right to self-determination.

The Principle of Self-Determination

Self-determination is a fundamental principle of international law, affirming that people have the right to shape their own destinies free from external interference or domination. In this light, the Afrikaners in Orania are not clinging to the past but engaging in a legitimate project - one that seeks to govern themselves and build a community rooted in their culture and values.

Similarly, I am part of a group of Zulus who also aspire to exercise self-determination. While my identity undoubtedly shapes my perspective, this piece is not about us. Instead, I want to address Orania, a place I once publicly condemned. Given my past stance, it’s only fair that I now take the opportunity to challenge the persistent misinformation that continues to surround it.

A Legacy of Afrikaner Self-Governance

To truly understand the psyche of Afrikaners, one must first acknowledge their deep-rooted pursuit of self-determination, a defining thread woven throughout their history. From the Great Trek, when pioneers left the relative comfort of the Cape under British rule to forge a new life in uncharted territory, Afrikaners have consistently sought autonomy, driven by the desire to preserve their cultural identity and heritage. Yet, this historical reality is often dismissed or conveniently ignored by many commentators when discussing Orania.

The aspiration for an Afrikaner homeland is far from new. In 1948 - the year the National Party rose to power - the South African Bureau of Racial Affairs (SABRA) was established as a think tank led by Afrikaner intellectuals. Unlike the ruling government, figures like W.E. Barker within SABRA did not merely critique the “vertical” structure of Apartheid; they advocated for a “horizontal” alternative - one rooted in genuine equality among all groups. Within this framework, the idea of an Afrikaner homeland emerged. Not as a mechanism for domination but as a space where Afrikaners could exist independently without imposing control over others.

Racism or Cultural Survival?

I believe this idea was rooted in the recognition of two fundamental realities. First, that baaskap - the political philosophy advocating white minority rule - was ultimately unsustainable. Second, that living under the dominance of another group carried its own risks.

At its core, universal self-determination is the key to liberty, because history has repeatedly shown that when one group dominates another, conflict and instability inevitably follow. However, self-determination should not be mistaken for a rejection of unity. Rather, it is a principle that envisions a political framework in which autonomous communities can coexist within a larger whole, bound together by mutual respect and recognition.

For the Afrikaner community, this pursuit of self-determination appears to be driven by a rejection of both internal and external dominance - a conviction that has shaped their identity for generations.

The Language Struggle

That being said, it is true that Orania’s existence was, in part, a reaction to South Africa’s political transition in the late 20th century. However, this reaction was not rooted in racism, but rather in a deep-seated concern about the future of Afrikaner cultural rights under majority rule. When viewed in this light, it ties back to the broader issue of how external dominance can endanger the identity and autonomy of a subordinate group.

Hermann Giliomee notes that Afrikaners feared the loss of their cultural rights under an African National Congress (ANC) government, which sought to centralize power and establish majority rule. One major concern was the status of Afrikaans. Under Apartheid, Afrikaans had been an official language alongside English, not solely due to the efforts of the National Party (NP), but also because of dedicated Afrikaner cultural movements. Organisations like the Afrikaanse Taalbeweging (Afrikaans Language Movement) played a crucial role in elevating Afrikaans, developing a rich body of literature spanning poetry, plays, and novels. From 1948 onwards, the NP systematically integrated Afrikaans into all levels of education, ensuring its prominence as a medium of instruction.

However, the party’s critical mistake was attempting to impose Afrikaans on the black majority, a policy that backfired catastrophically. It entrenched a negative perception of the language, which became widely viewed as the “language of the oppressor.” As a result, resistance to Afrikaans became intertwined with the broader struggle against Apartheid. Given this history, the fear that an ANC-led government would marginalize Afrikaans in favor of English was not unfounded. In hindsight, those concerns have proven justified, as the ANC has spent the past three decades systematically eroding Afrikaans in educational institutions.

While the ANC’s hostility toward Afrikaans is an important issue, it is not the central focus of this piece.

Orania’s Growth: A Case Study in Self-Sufficiency

The real issue is that Afrikaners faced a difficult cultural crossroads as political power shifted to the ANC. They had three options. First, they could leave South Africa, severing ties with their cultural roots - roots that are deeply embedded in the African continent. Second, they could remain in the country and face the uncertainties and potential risks of majority rule. Third, they could establish their own homeland, where they could exercise self-determination and safeguard their cultural identity.

The founders of Orania clearly chose the third path. In 1988, the Afrikaner-Vryheidstigting (Afrikaner Freedom Foundation) - an offshoot of SABRA - was established. One of its key figures, Professor Carel Boshoff, championed the idea of an independent Afrikaner homeland in the Northern Cape. Crucially, this vision was not about undermining the incoming black government or resurrecting Apartheid. Rather, it was about creating an autonomous space where Afrikaners could govern themselves, free from external interference, and preserve their language, traditions, and way of life.

By 1991, this vision materialized with the founding of Orania on 8,000 hectares of farmland purchased from the Department of Water Affairs. The rest, as they say, is history.

A Call for Honest Debate

Today, Orania stands as a symbol of self-determination, a community of Afrikaners who are not interested in dominating others or being dominated in turn. Its economy is thriving, and its population has grown nearly tenfold.

As I wrap up, I urge readers, especially those who continue to view Orania negatively, to consider the words of Joost Strydom, the CEO of the Orania Movement, during an interview with Rebecca Davis for Daily Maverick in January 2020:

“I don’t need you to approve of what we’re doing. But I do want you to at least acknowledge that it’s complicated.”

At the very least, we owe it to ourselves - and to each other - to have an honest, nuanced conversation about Orania and its role in South Africa’s complex history.

Ayanda Sakhile Zulu

Associate | Free Market Foundation

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