Tension simmers in South Africa as Eugene Terre'Blanche is laid to rest World news The Guardian: "Eugene Terre'Blanche was laid to rest in peace yesterday as family members threw petals on his coffin. But there was every sign that the white South African's extremist views have not been buried with him.
At a funeral service Terre'Blanche's coffin was defiantly draped in the flag of his far right Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging (AWB) movement, the swastika-style insignia and blood red surround reminiscent of the Nazis.
Just before noon the coffin was borne into church by burly but pot-bellied men in green berets and brown shirts with 'Boerkcommandos' epaulettes. The congregation burst into a passionate rendition of the apartheid era national anthem, Die Stem and some gave Nazi-style salutes.
The casket, topped with a red and white floral wreath, was placed beneath the pulpit alongside a framed photograph of Terre'Blanche, a man who once threatened to wage war rather than allow black rule, riding his beloved horse like a Boer Napoleon.
Then came an angry but sombre two-hour service in a packed church, deep in farming country, where black mourners could have been counted on one hand. As the pious congregation raised their arms and sang hymns in Afrikaans, the language descended from Dutch settlers, it was easy to believe that this was a sepia-tinted bubble in which democracy and Nelson Mandela never happened."
At a funeral service Terre'Blanche's coffin was defiantly draped in the flag of his far right Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging (AWB) movement, the swastika-style insignia and blood red surround reminiscent of the Nazis.
Just before noon the coffin was borne into church by burly but pot-bellied men in green berets and brown shirts with 'Boerkcommandos' epaulettes. The congregation burst into a passionate rendition of the apartheid era national anthem, Die Stem and some gave Nazi-style salutes.
The casket, topped with a red and white floral wreath, was placed beneath the pulpit alongside a framed photograph of Terre'Blanche, a man who once threatened to wage war rather than allow black rule, riding his beloved horse like a Boer Napoleon.
Then came an angry but sombre two-hour service in a packed church, deep in farming country, where black mourners could have been counted on one hand. As the pious congregation raised their arms and sang hymns in Afrikaans, the language descended from Dutch settlers, it was easy to believe that this was a sepia-tinted bubble in which democracy and Nelson Mandela never happened."
Comments