History of South Africa podcast Podcast Por Desmond Latham arte de portada

History of South Africa podcast

History of South Africa podcast

De: Desmond Latham
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A series that seeks to tell the story of the South Africa in some depth. Presented by experienced broadcaster/podcaster Des Latham and updated weekly, the episodes will take a listener through the various epochs that have made up the story of South Africa.Desmond Latham Ciencias Sociales Escritos y Comentarios sobre Viajes Mundial
Episodios
  • Episode 227 - Diamonds, War, and Destiny: Moshoeshoe, the Boers, and the Stone That Changed South Africa
    Jun 15 2025
    Episode 227 — a turning point not just in our nation’s past, but in the arc of 19th-century global history.

    For soon, the earth will yield its glittering secret — the diamond — and with it, fortunes will rise, empires will stir, and the southern tip of Africa will be irrevocably transformed.

    But before we reach that seismic revelation, we journey first into the twilight of a king’s life — to the basalt crown of Thaba Bosiu, where Moshoeshoe, the great architect of Basotho unity, faced the gravest challenge yet to his people’s survival.

    The year is 1864, and a new figure steps onto the veldt’s political stage — Johannes Brand, recently elected President of the Orange Free State. With his arrival came the end of internecine Boer squabbles. Now, unity of purpose would drive their ambitions — and that purpose turned toward Lesotho’s land.

    Brand lost little time invoking Article 2 of the Treaty of Aliwal North — a clause etched into colonial parchment, defining the boundary between Free State territory and Moshoeshoe’s realm. He wanted it honoured, and in the Boers’ favour.

    The British High Commissioner, Philip Wodehouse — successor to Sir George Grey — responded, dispatching Aliwal North’s Civil Commissioner, John Burnet, to parley with Moshoeshoe.

    There, among the towering ramparts of Thaba Bosiu, Burnet argued the line was law — the Warden Line, drawn in 1858, marked Moshoeshoe’s northern limit. Yet Basotho families still tilled and dwelt across it.

    Not out of defiance, but memory — for those lands were ancestral, soaked in history and spirit. To demand a retreat across the Caledon River would have meant inciting his own chiefs, rupturing the very fabric of the Basotho world.

    Brand, determined to halt the Basotho’s slow advance toward Harrismith and Winburg, convened the Volksraad. A special session summoned Governor Wodehouse, pleading for intervention to preserve peace — or impose it.

    By October 1864, Wodehouse had the contested boundary beaconed. But in a private memorandum — shaped by voices like Burnet’s — he concluded what Moshoeshoe already knew in his bones: no treaty or beacon could reconcile the irreconcilable.

    For the Free State clung to the ink of 1858 — a document where Moshoeshoe had affixed his name to the Warden Line. But treaties are made on paper — and people live on land.
    On the 14th of November, Moshoeshoe called a *pitso* — a major assembly of his chiefs. It was a moment to speak freely, to vent frustration, and to wrestle with the reality of what lay ahead. In the end, they publicly committed to accepting Wodehouse’s ruling.

    Molapo and Mopeli, though reluctant, began evacuating their villages. In the days that followed, a steady stream of men, women, and children made their way south — driving cattle, carrying bundles of corn, and taking with them whatever possessions they could manage.

    When Moshoeshoe appealed to President Brand for time to let Molapo’s people finish harvesting, Brand agreed. They stayed through the summer, gathering the last of their crops, and left again in February 1865.

    By then, the land was quiet. According to British reports — and Moshoeshoe’s own understanding — the disputed territory now stood empty of Basotho.

    But what neither he nor the British authorities knew was that the Boers were not content to leave it at that. A commando had already been mustered — eager to erase the memory of their defeat in 1858, and ready to strike.
    South Africa’s history is marked by sudden turns — moments of violence, moments of discovery. Buried treasure, both literal and political, lies hidden until, almost by accident, it surfaces. Often, it’s not strategy or foresight, but chance — a misstep, a stray decision — that reveals the vast wealth beneath.
    While the Boers and the Basotho were locked in brutal conflict, fighting for control of fertile valleys and mountain strongholds, something altogether different was unfolding a short distance away.
    A diamond would be discovered.
    Más Menos
    27 m
  • Episode 226 – The Estate Agent of the Transvaal: Paul Kruger, Mokgatle, the amaMfengu Crossing, and the Battle for Land
    Jun 8 2025
    The years between 1865 and 1870 would bring a tangle of new challenges for the people of the south. Drought gripped the land with merciless fingers in 1865 and 1866, only to return with cruel insistence between 1868 and 1869. Livelihoods withered, landscapes turned brittle. And yet, amid the dust and desolation, there was a glint of promise on the horizon, a hint of glitter in the forecast.

    British Kaffraria — that volatile strip of land east of the Kei — had been the stage for repeated wars between the British Empire and the amaXhosa. By 1866, the inevitable had come to pass: the territory was formally annexed to the Cape. This was not a popular move in the Cape Parliament. Most members balked at the idea, not out of principle, but pocket — British Kaffraria was a drain on the Treasury, propped up entirely by funds from London. The Cape, in its self-conscious autonomy, wanted no part in the bill.

    But Attorney General William Porter reminded his fellow parliamentarians that their indignation was selective. The Cape itself, he said, could not “talk big and look big” when its own house was being kept warm with British money. Independence in name meant little, he warned, if the machinery of government still ticked by the grace of Empire coin.
    But before the ink was dry on the annexation, another, more immediate matter took precedence — the fate of the amaMfengu, along with the amaNgqika and amaGqunukhwebe. The structures of amaXhosa political authority had already been dismantled within British Kaffraria. Now, as the imperial tide rolled further inland, it was the amaMfengu who found themselves repositioned — this time as subjects to be moved, their loyalty rewarded not with land, but with a fresh dislocation.
    Soon, the area around Butterworth became an amaMfengu stronghold. Many local amaXhosa were absorbed into their ambit — politically subdued or socially assimilated. For the British, this migration had a twofold effect. It removed thousands of Black residents from British Kaffraria, freeing up land under Crown control. And it advanced a broader goal: clearing the way for the Cape Parliament to annex the territory, albeit reluctantly and under pressure from Westminster.
    Just to flick the future switch for a moment — Back to the Future, in 2003, a constellation of dignitaries descended on Phokeng for the coronation of Kgosi Leruo Molotlegi of the Bafokeng. That’s near Rustenberg just for clarity. Among them were Nelson Mandela, Mangosuthu Buthelezi, First Lady Zanele Mbeki, and the Queen Mother of Lesotho. A drought pressed down on the land in 2003, dry and unforgiving, but the dusty heat did little to mute the occasion’s quiet grandeur.

    For a small nation to command such presence — to draw the gaze of the region’s most prominent figures — spoke to something more than mere ceremonial gravity. It hinted at a deeper, long-cultivated influence. This is the story of how the Bafokeng came to be recognised as one of South Africa’s most quietly successful peoples — not by avoiding the tides of history, but by learning, early on, how to navigate them. From their dealings with the Boers and Paul Kruger, to their survival under apartheid’s grip, the Bafokeng carved a path few expected — and fewer still understood.
    There’s an almost whispered history here, a counterpoint to the dominant narrative of dispossession and defeat. The Bafokeng lived on land of consequence long before that significance was measured in ounces of platinum. It wasn’t until the metal was prised from the earth beneath their feet that the rest of the country — and eventually, the world — began to pay attention. But the roots of their agency run deeper, older. They reach back to a time when Paul Kruger was still cobbling together unity among the Voortrekkers, long before his epic confrontations with the British had begun.
    Más Menos
    26 m
  • Episode 225 - Between Diamonds and Desolation: The Griqua's Journey to East Griqualand
    Jun 1 2025
    This is episode 225, and the Griqua have trekked from Philippolis near modern day Kimberley, to the Maluti Mountains, a place called Nomansland. In March 1861 Faku Ka-Ngqungqushe of the amaMpondo had ceded the territory to the British, ostensibly so that Theopholis Shepstone could plant the refugees of the Zulu Civil War there, but that idea was scotched, and the Cape Governor gave the territory over to the Griqua.

    By the time the great Griqua migration reached what would become Griqualand East, others had already begun trickling into this remote and mesmerising landscape — a highland plateau that straddles the transition between KwaZulu-Natal and the Eastern Cape, hemmed in by the southern Drakensberg.

    At over 1,600 metres above sea level, winters bite hard here when the frost laces the sandstone ridges, and the mornings arrive cloaked in icy mist. But come spring, the veld stirs with startling vigour: the ground blushes green, and indigenous flora such as Watsonia pillansii or Pillans watsonia, Dierama reynoldsii fairy bell or hairbell, and the fiery Kniphofia caulescens — the Drakensberg red-hot poker, thrust their blooms skyward.

    Aloes cling to rocky outcrops, and if you're lucky, you might glimpse the iridescent flash of a malachite sunbird, the Nectarinia famosa, feeding on nectar, or hear the distinct call of the ground woodpecker aka Geocolaptes olivaceus echoing from a sandstone cliff.
    After an arduous few weeks from their farms near Philippolis, Kok’s people arrived at Ongeluk’s Nek and you know if you’ve listened to the previous podcast why it was given this name. ON the way they had passed passed through part of land claimed by Basotho king Moshoehoe, around the Hangklip area — that’s just south east of Zastron today.

    Then began the arduous process of clearing a road down the mountain starting at Ongeluks Nek. It was no child’s play. Every morning, according to the annals, men set about with pick and crowbar, hammer and drills, powder and fuse to dig out a track down the mountainside.

    It took weeks for the track to be hacked from the rock, and the 2000 men, women and children, their dogs and livestock, managed to slide and roll down the side heading towards a small settlement about six kilometers north of where the town of Kokstad is today.
    The Griqua had finally, in their minds, arrived at their promised land. Here were rolling hills, the lower Maloti, sweet tasting river water, springs, green grass. In the ravines there were forests and the Griqua began to cut down these trees to build houses.The fledgling Griqualand state began to emerge, murderers were executed, criminals were tried and convicted and the Volksraad gathered every six months to discuss laws. This elementary form of democracy featured lengthy discussions and very little note-taking. A chief officer was elected, called a Kaptyn like the Khoekhoe leaders of old, and a privy council or executive council as it was also known was setup.
    Más Menos
    19 m
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Thank you for this informative show. I will listen until the end. I am from South Africa and I can attest to the fact that we desperately need more people that are clued up with SA's wider history, not only the recent controversial happenings.

Fantastic and necessary!

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I've never found anything close to this comprehensive in an audible format. Des is doing great work and has several fascinating podcasts with a similar format. If you like history, give this a go.

Longform history

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Highly recommend. An impressive and thorough deep dive by a scholarly native. Des Latham takes the listener on a journey through the geographical, cultural and political history of South Africa with just a touch of humor and philosophical thought. Latham makes it palatable for someone new to the subject and his wit breathes more life into an extensive history that might have otherwise been too dense and “text-book-ish.”

On a personal note — As an immigrant to South Africa, I really appreciate the availability of this material as well as listening to his pronunciation of people, places and things relevant to South Africa.

Impressive

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The true spirit of this program is summed up by a quote from episode 59.

"Don't shout at me folks. This is a series that is trying to deliver direct historical blows rather than quaint emotional propaganda. Your going to hear a lot more that may make you revise what you think of as part of our past."

Thank you Mr. Latham for your dedication to the truth and willingness to impart your extensive knowledge on others.

Fantastic Podcast

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