Pravin Gordhan, known to his friends as PG. Picture: David Ritchie
SIVA NAIDOO
IN the late 1970s, South Africa was a nation under siege by apartheid – a harsh and inhumane system of racial segregation and class discrimination.
For those of us who yearned for change, the struggle was personal and relentless.
As a young activist, my journey began in earnest in 1977, a pivotal year when I crossed paths with Pravin Gordhan, known to his friends as PG.
At the time, I was part of the Tongaat Youth Club, a group with members whose militancy and desire to bring about political change knew no bounds.
Our fervour caught the eye of Vish Suparsad, the Tongaat Child Welfare Society's first community worker.
It was Vish who introduced me to PG, a remarkable figure whose intellect and charisma left a lasting impression on me. PG, with his distinctive long hair and robust physique, commanded attention.
He was in tune with the politics of our small, sugar town of Tongaat, governed then by the Tongaat Town Board.
PG's influence was profound, serving as my real baptism of fire into the furnace of South African liberation politics.
His ability to articulate complex ideas with clarity and purpose inspired not only me but countless others. He taught us that the true vanguard of the struggle against apartheid was the masses themselves.
Community mobilisation and organisation were crucial, and PG emphasised the need to organise around local issues, empowering grassroots leaders to challenge the apartheid system.
The late 1970s saw the Natal Indian Congress (NIC) expanding its reach in several former Indian areas. PG, as the head of the organising committee (OC), was the driving force behind the NIC's efforts.
He developed deep and meaningful relationships with local activists, gaining respect and admiration from allies and adversaries alike. Although he could be firm and occasionally perceived as pushy, we cherished his tenacity and commitment to the cause.
PG came from a background typical of the merchant class, yet his intellect and resolve set him apart. He risked everything, including his career as a pharmacist, to challenge the apartheid state.
His pharmacy practice was a refuge in theory, but in reality, he was on the run more often than not due to constant harassment by the security police. Despite losing his job at King Edward Hospital and eventually closing his pharmacy, PG's dedication never waned.
One of PG’s significant contributions was his role in founding the Durban Housing Action Committee (DHAC) in 1980. This initiative played a crucial role in advocating for decent housing, inspired by the Freedom Charter's vision for housing security and comfort.
As new residents moved into Phoenix, they faced a myriad challenges such as inadequate schools, recreational facilities, and exorbitant rents. PG mobilised support for the Phoenix Working Committee (PWC), turning it into a powerful voice for the people and one of the most significant affiliates of DHAC.
His leadership extended to the Community Research Unit, which he helped establish in the early 1980s.
As a director, he was instrumental in supporting emerging civics and residents' associations that were vital to community activism.
Our Sunday evenings were often spent in spirited discussions at the David Landua Centre, where PG facilitated strategy sessions of the Activist Forum that underscored his strategic prowess and holistic understanding of grassroots conditions.
PG’s frequent visits to Tongaat were punctuated by consultations with NIC leaders like George Sewpersadh, IC Meer, Mewa Ramgobin, Ela Gandhi, and Paul David, all of whom were Verulam-based.
Together, they offered robust leadership at a time when the apartheid regime was attempting to create a divided political landscape by co-opting Indian and Coloured communities while excluding the African majority. PG, along with the venerable Billy Nair, spearheaded the anti-tricameral campaign, which saw a significant rejection of the regime's divisive constitutional proposals by the Indian community.
Despite relentless surveillance and detention, PG remained unyielding. His courage and fearlessness were exemplary, enduring torture without ever capitulating to the oppressive regime.
As a revolutionary, PG was unrivalled, willing to sacrifice everything for his country's freedom. While he had his detractors, PG stayed true to his vision for a non-racial, non-sexist South Africa.
His belief in the African National Congress (ANC) and its potential to build a cohesive society remained steadfast.
As we confront the challenges of healing our country's past divisions, PG's absence is deeply felt. Nonetheless, his indomitable spirit continues to inspire democrats across the nation. He has left an indelible mark on society, and as his legacy endures, we, his comrades, must carry forward the work of building a just and unified country. His voice may be gone, but his dream for South Africa lives on in our hearts and actions.
In true homage to PG, we must continue to fight for the values he held dear: equality, justice, and unity. This is a testament to the influence of one remarkable man who dedicated his life to the cause of freedom for all South Africans. PG was not just a leader; he was a friend, a comrade, and a symbol of hope in our shared journey toward liberation. He chaired the unity talks at Codesa (the Convention for a Democratic South Africa) and in post-apartheid he was the central figure in the principled fight against state capture. He lived as a revolutionary and his legacy will inspire the perpetual revolution of change in the decades ahead. From being an underground member of MK to a combatant in the constitutional terrain he was a true son of the African soil.
Siva Naidoo is a former Tongaat activist and a ubuntu and education in human values practitioner and trainer.
Saturday Star
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