“Tell my people that I love them and that they must continue the struggle. My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits. Aluta continua.” – Solomon Mahlangu
ON April 6, 1979, Solomon Kalushi Mahlangu, a revered martyr in South Africa’s quest for freedom, was hanged by the apartheid regime. Though silenced, his indomitable spirit endures in our collective memory.
As Martin Luther King Jr aptly stated: “Some of us will have to get scarred up, but we shall overcome.” Similarly, Dr Margaret Mncadi emphasised that the road to freedom is hard but worth every sacrifice, even death. Civil rights activist Fannie Lou Hamer reminded us never to forget where we came from and always to honour those who carried us forward. Undoubtedly, Mahlangu was one such bridge, paving the way for the precious freedom achieved in 1994.
Martyrs like Mahlangu mobilise the living. Their sacrifices serve as reminders of state violence and compel us to reflect on the future we must build to justify their deaths. George Bernard Shaw noted that martyrs envision a world not yet imagined. Like Moses guiding the Hebrews to a promised land or Jesus teaching about an anti-kingdom of equality, martyrs inspire transformative visions.
In remembering Mahlangu, we recall Rosa Luxemburg’s words: “Your order is built on sand. The revolution will rise again, proclaiming, ‘I was. I am. I shall be’.” Mahlangu carved a niche in history through his unparalleled bravery and sacrifice. He reminds us that while revolutionaries may die, their legacies live on.
According to Amira Mittenmaier, martyrs are tools for holding the state accountable, reminding others of sacrifices made, and raising questions about what kind of future justifies those sacrifices. They also serve as objects of admiration or models for emulation, helping cultivate revolutionary subjects.
Mittenmaier cites Amr, a young Egyptian activist, who said: “Our choice is never to live or die — for that and all else is in the hand of God. Our withering body may continue either way, but our choice is one for the soil. We do not choose whether to live or die, only how we choose to live until we return to our Maker.”
Oscar Romero, Archbishop of San Salvador, similarly echoed this sentiment a month before his assassination: “If they kill me, I will rise again in the Salvadoran people… May my blood be the seed of freedom and the signal hope will soon be a reality.” Romero was killed on the orders of a Salvadoran military colonel. His strong condemnation of repression by the state security forces made him a target of the military’s death squad. Mahlangu, too, sacrificed his life for justice.
Mahlangu symbolises the superiority of human courage over oppression. His life epitomises self-determination and the power of sacrifice. His death, alongside countless others, paved the way for South Africa’s liberation. Today, the nation’s freedom stands as a testament to their sacrifices.
To honour martyrs like Mahlangu, we propose observing *Martyrs’ Day* with reverence, commemorating all who gave their lives for justice. A *Martyrs Monument* should be erected, and compensation packages should support the heirs of martyrs to ensure their children’s education.
South Africa owes an immeasurable debt to Solomon Mahlangu. His courage inspires us to continue striving for a just society. On April 6, let us pause to remember his supreme sacrifice and renew our commitment to building a better future.
As Richard J Jensen, Thomas R Burkholder, and John C Hammerback note, martyrs become symbols of suffering for a cause. Historian Lacey Baldwin Smith adds that martyrs are both products of and victims of the role models they seek to fulfil and the judgements placed upon them.
Mahlangu laid down his life to give us a stronger will and determination to fight apartheid. People were prepared to be killed but would not give up the fight for a non-racial democratic South Africa.
The inequalities that still exist today betray what Mahlangu gallantly fought for. Reverend Gustavo Gutierrez of Peru once spoke of a “preferential option for the poor”, emphasising that their misery is an indictment of the sinful state of the world. A genuine option for the poor, he insisted, must be based on personal friendship with the poor.
All the blood of the martyrs of the liberation struggle instilled a new spirit of hope and courage in the people. If one were to provide a slogan to galvanise the martyrs, it would be what Jesus Fr Ignacio Ellacuria eloquently phrased: “Our work is orientated on behalf of a people who, oppressed by structural injustices, struggle for their self-determination — people often without liberty or human rights.”
Rather than trivialising the Sharpeville massacre by calling it Human Rights Day, it should be renamed Martyrs’ Day, observed with due reverence and solemnity to pay homage to our martyrs and heroes. This day would honour figures like Matthew Goniwe, Griffiths Mxenge, Victoria Mxenge, Steve Biko, Chris Hani, Inkosi Mhlabunzima Maphumulo, Fort Calata, the Ribeiro couple, Dr Asvat, victims of the Lesotho raids by the South African Defence Force (SADF), and all other martyrs who stood as symbols of courage, patriotism, and unflinching commitment.
Compatriots, once done reading this contribution, kindly observe a minute of silence in memory of Solomon Mahlangu.
* Dr Vusi Shongwe is the former head of the Department of the Royal Household and Chief Director for Heritage in the Office of the Premier. He currently serves as Chief Director of Heritage Resource Services in the Department of Sport, Arts and Culture and writes in his personal capacity.
** The views expressed here do not reflect those of the Sunday Independent, Independent Media, or IOL.