Before I even start writing this, I know that I’m probably going to get shot for it. For at least three months afterwards I should make a point of not opening any unmarked packages (especially not if I can hear something ticking from the inside), and I should definitely employ a bodyguard and travel in groups of mostly white people which I know they wouldn’t bomb anyway.
White supremacist organizations are like stubborn lapdogs with a shrill, irritating bark that keeps barking up the wrong tree. Yes, it keeps the neighbourhood awake and says: “Pay attention to me damnit!” but it doesn’t say much.
For years now the white supremacists have been talking about saamstaan and bymekaarkom op Oom Frans se plaas net buite Welkom, but so far there has been very little of this much talked about bymekaarkoms. What worries me, however, is that most of them fear an impending apocalypse, and this leads me to believe that there’s a whole stockpile of .45s at someone’s farm just waiting to be used.
Some day one of them is going to decide that the time has arrived, and he’s going to rally up the men, get the gun and go to the nearest train station with the gun in his hand. Faced with 56 men, he’s going to say: “Ek en die mense is hier om julle op te fok!” From the crowd comes the voice of a very daring man: “Which mense?” He’ll turn around and say, not without some pride in his voice: “Dié mense! My mense! Mense?” to find that all of them went back to watch the rugby game between the Bulls and the Cheetahs.
Let's face it: The average white supremacist Afrikaner would rather have a braai and talk about a boer uprising than actually do anything. And thank God for that.
Alex B Broadway