It does not matter how many people chose moral duty over the rationality of selfpreservation – what does matter is that some did. Evil is not all-powerful. It can be resisted. The testimony of the few who did resist shatters the authority of the logic of self-preservation. It shows it for what it is in the end – a choice.
Zygmunt BaumanIntroduction
President Nelson Mandela was beloved by all race groups in South Africa. His life and legacy have been honoured around the globe with a Nobel Peace Prize, countless honorary degrees, documentaries and books. He was mourned by the entire world on an unprecedented scale never likely to be repeated. But far fewer people know the name of the man who saved Mandela from the gallows during the Rivonia Trial. That man was Bram Fischer.
Fischer died nearly 20 years before South Africa's transition to democracy, but that is not the only reason why he is largely unknown: the apartheid government intended him to be forgotten. After his death in 1975 the government did its best to erase Fischer from the landscape. His ashes were confiscated (they were never recovered). His words and image were banned. In pre-1994 history books Fischer appeared – if he appeared at all – as a ghostly silhouette, his face whited out to appease the apartheid censors.
The Bram Fischer Waltz introduces Fischer's story to a new audience. Harry Kalmer's play encapsulates many of the key moments in Fischer's life, from his boyhood days in the Free State to his eventual imprisonment for his political activities. But Kalmer achieves more than merely relaying biographical details. He portrays Fischer as much more than the Rivonia defence counsel or ‘volksverraaier’ (traitor to his people). Bram Fischer was also a son, a husband, a father, a loyal comrade. And, just as importantly, he was the embodiment of moral courage.
The play ends in 1975 with Fischer's death from cancer. His friends and comrades would still spend more than a decade on Robben Island and in Pretoria Central Prison.