Lost chapter: A personal look at mythical anti-apartheid figure

In 1996, author Immanuel Suttner produced a book titled Cutting Through the Mountain, a compilation of interviews with Jewish anti-apartheid activists about their lives, views, and contributions to the struggle. The book became a key text in the ongoing debate about the role Jews and the broader Jewish community played in South Africa during the apartheid era.

The book has a wide scope featuring everyone from lawyers to trade unionists and educators to revolutionaries. But one name is conspicuously absent: Arthur Goldreich, an architect and artist who played a role in the founding of uMkhonto we Sizwe, the armed wing of the African National Congress (ANC).

Goldreich holds a near-unique place in the pantheon of anti-apartheid activists. Born in Johannesburg on 25 December 1929, he grew up in what was then known as Pietersburg, now Polokwane, and died in Israel on 24 May 2011. He was active in his local Zionist youth movement, and eventually moved to Israel, where he joined the elite underground Palmach unit, a forerunner of the Israel Defense Forces. Returning to South Africa in 1954, he won the national Best Young Painter award the following year for his striking black-and-white figure work. In the late 1950s, he designed the sets for King Kong, the celebrated South African musical tracing the tragic story of a real-life boxer.

Behind his flamboyant public persona lay a dangerous, clandestine life as a member of the South African Communist Party. Using party funds, he purchased Liliesleaf Farm in Rivonia, which became a secret meeting place for the underground ANC leadership. Goldreich lived on the property with his family and hired a gardener, one “David Motsamayi”, the alias of Nelson Mandela used while evading the police. Discussions between Mandela and Goldreich at the farm contributed to the creation of uMkhonto we Sizwe.

Goldreich was arrested as a result of the infamous Rivonia raid on 11 July 1963, along with 18 other anti-apartheid operatives, and charged with sabotage. After a dramatic escape, he eventually resettled in Israel and went on to found the department of environmental design at Jerusalem’s Bezalel Academy.

Although Goldreich was interviewed for Cutting Through the Mountain, he later requested that his contribution be excluded from the book. As a result, the interview disappeared publicly for nearly 30 years until it was recently unearthed by Israeli researchers. It has been cited by Asher Lubotzky from the University of Houston in his PhD thesis, Before the Apartheid Analogy: South African Radicals and Israel/Palestine.

The recovered interview transcript, 31 pages in length and not complete, offers a deeply personal look into Goldreich’s life, beliefs, and version of key historical events. He reflects on growing up in a rural, Afrikaans-dominated environment in which he had to contend with the challenges of antisemitism but gained acceptance by becoming fluent in Afrikaans and excelling at rugby. He speaks warmly of his rabbi, praising his kindness, intelligence, and service as an army chaplain, even though Goldreich later identified as a communist and atheist.

As part of that journey, he recounts that at about 15 years old, he told his father that he was a socialist, to which his father replied, “Well I suggest that if you want to be a socialist, you should be a socialist with your own money.” Goldreich admits that at the time, he was too young to grasp fully what this response truly meant.

He also discusses his close friendship with fellow Jew and communist, Joe Slovo, and other comrades from his time at the University of the Witwatersrand. Notably, Slovo entrusted him with designing his home in Northcliff, one of Goldreich’s first architectural commissions, which he says helped deepen their relationship.

The interview delves into his experience in the Palmach, noting that his entire recruitment process consisted of a test of whether he could shoot. Having grown up in the northern Transvaal, that wasn’t a problem. He participated in the 1948 independence war, though seemingly not in major combat. It was then that he learned skills and gained confidence that would later prove invaluable in establishing uMkhonto we Sizwe.

Following the Israeli War of Independence, Goldreich found himself at odds with the nationalist culture of his kibbutz Mayan Baruch, and returned to South Africa to join the anti-apartheid struggle.

His arrest and subsequent dramatic escape were publicised internationally. After escaping and getting safely to Tanzania, he was invited to attend the British Labour Party conference and give talks to supporters of the anti-apartheid movement in the United Kingdom, Ireland, and Sweden. However, the weather and what he called the life of the “professional refugee class” didn’t appeal to him.

So, when he was invited to join the team designing the Israel Museum, he chose to move back to Israel in 1963, drawn by the dramatic transformation the country was undergoing and with the hope of a better life for his family.

In Israel, he established the Israelis Against Apartheid group, and his activism helped obtain a letter of support for the Rivonia trialists from Zionist philosopher Martin Buber, a letter that was read aloud in the Knesset.

Other sources also show that Goldreich was in contact with the Mossad to organise training for ANC members outside of the country. This was a time when Israel maintained a strongly anti-apartheid politic. Goldreich was also involved in internal Israeli politics, and was a critic of Israel’s occupation of the territories and vocal against racism toward Arabs.

Despite asking permission to go to Israel from the ANC, and receiving it, the organisation didn’t seem to have been particularly happy with his decision to move. Over time, his relationship with the ANC grew increasingly strained. He recalls a sharp exchange with Oliver Tambo after the 1967 Six-Day War, and a moment at an anti-apartheid conference when a fellow speaker challenged him, saying, “What are you doing in that shit country?”

Over time, his contacts with the ANC decreased. Denis Goldberg, a Rivonia trialist, said that he had to intervene personally with the ANC, upon his own release in 1985, to get it to renew engagement with Goldreich, since by then he had been completely frozen out of the movement.

Much of the public legacy of Arthur Goldreich has been focused on his role in some of the most consequential moments in the histories of both South Africa and Israel. This newly recovered interview helps add depth, complexity, and humanity to his personal life, and offers a rare glimpse into the life and times of one of the most remarkable figures of the anti-apartheid struggle.

• Benji Shulman is director of the Middle East Africa Research Institute.