SA has seen more than its fair share of shameful actions, but few are more disgraceful than the virtual extermination of the San people, the original inhabitants of this magnificent land.
We are fortunate that retired history teacher Geoff Olivier has turned his lifelong interest in, and study of, the remarkable First People into an absorbing saga, demonstrating a rare and valuable insight into the lives, customs and traditions of this nation.
Runs Gently Upon the Earth covers several centuries, beginning in an era when the San lived simply, in harmony with nature, respecting wildlife and hunting only for food or as part of tribal initiation rites.
Flora and fauna were plentiful, more than ample to cover the very modest requirements of these humble people, who required little to cover their need for food, medicine and clothing.
The Khoi were also present, but not in large numbers, and they posed no serious threat. The real danger was to come when blacks and white settlers arrived in growing numbers and began to establish themselves in the lands where the San traditionally lived.
As time passes, and the novel’s narrative develops, we see how these other tribes, white and black, introduced a different, agrarian imprint on the land, crowding out the San with their crops and their cattle, reducing the availability of the game and wild plants on which the San had thrived.
The concept of ownership of land is alien to the San, and they were powerless to halt the arrival of others whose belief in land rights conveniently failed to recognise those of the original inhabitants.
Indeed, the hunting and extermination of the San was a sanctioned policy among earlier settlers. As in Australia, the white man had little tolerance for the Aboriginals.
Olivier writes of Boer horsemen with genocidal intent, who “were not only trying to eliminate the tribe and claim their ancestral land, but were also exterminating all the game, and destroying the grazing and food plants with their great many cattle... The change made the clan heartsore and anxious because they could no longer live in peace and continue their traditional way of living. A life which was slowly and inexorably changing to something different and more complicated for the clan... The First People were being pushed from their land, captured, and forced to work for the farmers — or in many cases, simply massacred.”
This novel follows different individuals and groups of San people as they move from area to area, seeking a permanent, safe and bounteous territory in which to live, but being steadily driven from the most verdant land to more arid and inhospitable areas.
The narrative concludes in the post-apartheid era when in the minds of many, the San have become mere museum exhibits — the remaining San have been grouped into a broader and artificial “coloured” classification, and there are very few remaining places where small clusters of San can preserve their language, traditions, culture and lifestyle.
At times, they were of use. We read how in both the Boer War and World War 1 and 2, the San’s tracking skills and ability to move stealthily were deployed. Once land in rural areas was settled, they were often absorbed into the farms to work as herders. However, the rewards of these marginalised First People have not been substantial.
It has been a case of adapt or die, but the adaptation by the San has meant the destruction and erosion of heritage, ancient skills and language, uniqueness and dignity as a people.
As time passed, bottle stores were opened in those townships where there were still groups of San people — working as labourers, or sometimes unable to work at all — and alcohol has become a factor in further eroding their dignity, self-respect and ability to remain connected to their heritage.
This is an important book, and certainly filled many gaps in my own knowledge about a precious part of our country’s heritage and history.
However, the publishers of this book bizarrely go on the defensive in the cover blurb, with a suggestion that some people may be concerned that the San’s story is “not his [Olivier’s] to tell.”
This is abject nonsense, as the reader will soon become fully aware of the love, respect and deep understanding of the San that emerges in chapter after chapter. These are the heroes of the book, not the villains.
Olivier is painstaking in narrating the hunting rituals in intricate detail, he highlights the importance of San rock paintings, and he is respectful in the way in which he tells of how a group will dance around a fire, falling into a trance. It is done sensitively, and convincingly.
There really should be no suggestion of apology. There is no shortage of people who have wronged the San, but Olivier is not among them.
Of course, there is a genuine concern in any society about cultural appropriation, but I found no hint of this. Instead, there is respectful storytelling, based on a lifetime of research and interest in a far too frequently ignored or distorted element of SA history.
Far from doing a disservice, Olivier has produced a valuable work that will help many to better understand and appreciate the San.
In later chapters, more modern-day descendants of the San enter schools and universities, and display prowess in athletics, drawing on the heritage of their ancestors, who were able to comfortably jog for many hours and developed remarkable stamina.
There is a suggestion that the excellence of today’s San athletes might bring more recognition to their communities and could finally persuade the SA authorities to do more to revive and support the First People.
It would not be too soon.
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