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In the past, from time to time, when the apartheid regime found the resistance of the oppressed majority unbearable, it would react with viciousness and disproportionate repressive measures.
Such was the case at Sharpeville in 1960, when 69 people were massacred.
The 1970s saw a new resistance to the apartheid regime championed by the Black Consciousness Movement that preached an exclusive black solidarity and open defiance of the regime.
It was within this political ferment and agitation by the Black Consciousness Movement that the students’ uprising of 1976 emerged. The students were far more politically radicalised. They had nothing to lose but the chains of the modern day slavery.
Again the regime reacted with predictable viciousness; 1977 saw the cruel banning of political organisations and newspapers.
The viciousness of the regime was epitomised in the cold-blooded murder in 1977 of Steve Bantu Biko, the leader of the Black Consciousness Movement.
It was within this climate of political upheaval that Chris Mokoditoa, a movement stalwart, was issued with a banning order that gagged him, depriving him of the right to openly criticise the regime and curtailing his movements.
Mokoditoa was one of the many who suffered this reprieve measure; some were simply sent off to Robben Island.
Mokoditoa represented the courageous men and women who did not spare themselves, who did not count the cost, but dedicated themselves unstintingly to achieving the freedom of black people.
Mokoditoa’s political struggle in the Black Consciousness Movement was a struggle for equality and the participation of black people in their country of birth.
It was a noble struggle against the racial and ethnic divisions imposed by a repressive government of the day.
Mokoditoa, with many others, was fighting for the human worth of black people, for the God-given dignity of black people.
This was Mokoditoa’s mission and calling here on Earth, in this country, among his own people.
It is this courage that set him apart, made him a champion and the unsung hero of the down-trodden, of what
Franz Fanon described as the “scum of the earth”.
If you look at the informal settlements around us, the squalor, the stink, the oppression – many still yearn for freedom, for dignity, for recognition as human beings.
Mokoditoa saw himself as his brother and sister’s keeper, hence his unwavering commitment to the fight for freedom and to the advancement of black people.
He served his people in other capacities as well. He was a lawyer, graduating from the then University of Bophuthatswana.
Mokoditoa was a man of integrity and self-respect.
He did not use his “struggle credentials” for personal gain.
In him, many found a remarkable combination of humility and greatness, of a simple lifestyle and nobility of spirit.
Mokoditoa was a man for others. He put others first. He was fearless but soft-spoken.
Mokoditoa was an exemplary leader and a source of inspiration for many.
There was another side of Mokoditoa. He was a man of deep faith, a practising Catholic.
In many ways his commitment to the freedom and advancement of black people was an expression of his faith that underscored service to others.
When the blind see, the lame walk, prisoners are set free, God’s reign is with you.
The selfless dedication of Mokoditoa – and that of many others who are committed – speaks to us in symbols and metaphors about the presence of God’s Kingdom around us.
Mokoditoa epitomised the spirit of generosity, of nobility and of service.
I once asked him about political activism in the 1990s and 2000s and he said: “Don’t hog the dance floor, there are other dancers ‘kusinwa kudedelwane’.”
As we mourn his death, let us also celebrate his resurrection.
For Jesus Christ died and rose from the dead so that we might be able to see God’s face.
May God console his wife and children.
May the souls of the departed rest in peace.
Buti Tlhagale is the Catholic Archbishop of Johannesburg
