Postures of protest: The reinterpretation of FAK folk songs as expressions of (a new) nationalism and nostalgia

In post-apartheid South Africa, as part of deep-rooted socio-political and cultural disputes, Afrikaner ethnic anxiety is pervasive, while marginal and liminal experiences of being white and Afrikaans bring to the fore both self-protective positions of whiteness, and those that strive to undo regressive ideas of white power. Even before the demise of apartheid, Afrikaans alternative music has voiced dissenting positions that confront questions of race, ethnicity, and power. In this article ‘recycled’ FAK songs are analysed by way of Postural Theory, a theoretical framework developed by the South African philosopher Johann Visagie. Complemented by relevant perspectives relating to an understanding of opposing dislocated apartheid and post-apartheid senses of self, our examination of the deeper strata of the songs highlights postures of (morally and ethically) taking care, either of the self or the other – but also postures of meaninglessness and suffering , pointing to loss as a central aspect of the ‘threatened identity’. they aid understandings of reactionary and radical displays of white individuality as conceptualised within the shifting racial, cultural, gendered, and class-divided space of contemporary local popular music.


Introduction
Within South African scholarship, following the dawn of democracy in 1994, questions of identity have resulted in a growing stream of studies on the dislocation of post-apartheid identifications. From these it is evident that white Afrikaans identities in particular struggle to come to terms with their place and status in post-apartheid South Africa, which has prompted an intensification of scholarly concentration on what is globally referred to as 'critical whiteness studies' (see Marx and Milton 2011: 723). 1 While the delegitimisation of whiteness and other counter-narratives of previously dominant discourses of white Afrikaans identities are thus keenly construed within the intellectual realm, in practice, racism persists. Although transformation in post-apartheid South Africa is characterised by an unavoidable dismantling and re-establishing of identities, at the same time, it is hindered by deep-rooted socio-political and cultural disputes. Among these, Afrikaner ethnic anxiety is "pervasive in this moment of dislocation of Afrikaner ideology" (Steyn 2004: 144). While the turbulence in cultural status among Afrikaners is met by many with insecurity or resentment, others struggle to come to terms with the nation's traumatic history of racial segregation and oppression (see Steenkamp 2011: 20;Steyn 2004). For the youth, in particular, marginal and liminal experiences of being white and Afrikaans in post-apartheid South Africa have brought to the fore defensive positions of whiteness, or those that strive to dismantle and expose regressive ideas of white power (see Steyn 2004: 147).
In her study of post-apartheid social identification as manifest within forms of popular music, Lolkema (2014: 11) says that popular culture is one of the most discernible ways in which young people express themselves, and within which they engage with processes of identification and questions of belonging (Lolkema 2014: 14). Forms of popular music, in representing social groups or subcultures, can indicate social inclusion or exclusion. This viewpoint is shared by Storey (2003: 3-4) who says that popular culture -including popular music -is an important arena for confronting questions of race, ethnicity, gender, generation, and social class. In many cases such confrontation takes the form of protest, where popular songs act as a powerful force for social and political change (Ramet in Street et al. 2007: 6).
Within the South African popular music scene, the first stirrings of dissidence in the Afrikaans language were registered in the 1980s with the subversive music of the so-called Voëlvry movement, driven by artists such as Johannes Kerkorrel, 1 Within the global terrain of critical whiteness studies, the specificity of South Africa's recent history renders post-apartheid studies to be of special relevance (see, among others, McEwen and Steyn 2013;Hook 2011;Matthew 2010;De Kock 2007;Green et al. 2007, Willoughby-Herard 2007.
Koos Kombuis, The movement had as its aim the deployment of rock music as an instrument of rebellion against the authoritarian and patriarchal structures that undergirded the policies of the apartheid government and Afrikaner nationalism. 3 One of the ways in which the Voëlvry artists registered their resistance was by performing parodies of 'traditional' Afrikaans songs that were widely associated with ethnic mobilisation in service of Afrikaner nationalism.
However, the early post-apartheid era -the so-called euphoric 'rainbow nation' period -was marked by collaborations between white and black musicians, notably those of Johnny Clegg and Juluka (Taylor 2014). As the general optimism felt by many South Africans during these early years of democracy made way for disillusionment, an inescapable and self-conscious awareness of whiteness grew, portrayed also across the forms and genres of popular music. Among the initial responses, Ballantine (2004: 105) notes, straightforward criticism of the new dispensation and satire was foregrounded. A revealing example from this period is "Blaas hom" by the group Battery 9, which graphically relates racial outrage over repeated house robberies and the rapper's revenge in shooting two (presumably black) robbers (Ballantine 2004: 119). 4 During the early 2000s, Afrikaans artists such as Karen Zoid, Fokofpolisiekar and Die Heuwels Fantasties shifted goalposts by displaying in their music various hostile anti-establishment attitudes (Klopper 2009).
The critical undertakings of this time most likely prepared the way for the emergence of a younger generation of artists who, similar to Voëlvry, were (and are) not afraid to speak their minds in Afrikaans. Representative of a radically unsettling white Afrikaans identity, zef culture, specifically as promoted by Die Antwoord and Jack Parow, pursues the explicit aim of decentring white privilege and the normalisation of traditional Afrikaner culture, constructing what Marx 2 These names were satirical and signified the irreverent, anti-establishment attitude of the Afrikaans rock revolution. While in its literal meaning the term 'voëlvry' may be translated 'free as a bird'; in its idiomatic sense it refers to an outlaw. More crudely, it may be understood as referring to promiscuity (Viljoen 2015: 274). 3 The story of Afrikaans alternative music has been documented in a number of important recent studies (see, among others, Van der Merwe 2017, Klopper 2017, Pienaar 2012, Marx and Milton 2011, Klopper 2009, Grundlingh 2004, Ballantine 2004, Jury 1996 "Shoot him" from the album Wrok 1999. and Milton (2011: 724) term "bastardised identities". 5 These defy conformance not only to conventional notions of race and class, but also those of gender (see also Klopper 2017: 83). Such de-territorialised shifting of cultural space and of hybrid identity in contemporary South Africa has turned a sharp focus onto "a liminal space where all identities are destabilised and open for reconfiguration" (Marx and Milton 2011: 724).
Simultaneous with these subverting trends, it was perhaps predictable that elements of nostalgia after the fall of apartheid would surface within Afrikaans popular music. An iconic example is Valiant Swart's Die Mystic Boer (1996), portraying the search for the mythological 'Ideal Afrikaner' -a search which, as the song intimates, is one of existential loss and futility (Lambrechts & Visagie 2009: 83-4). A more controversial version of Afrikaner nostalgia was invoked in Bok van Blerk's war song "De la Rey" (McGreal 2007), which, as Lambrechts and Visagie (2009) conclude, in recalling the Afrikaner's so-called 'era of innocence' offers an ideologically one-sided perspective on the loss of an established sense of Afrikaner identity.
During the early 2000s, the earlier objective of the Voëlvry movement to break away from and destabilise hegemonic Afrikaner identity was rekindled by some Afrikaans fans and artists (Pienaar 2012: 10). Both Grundlingh (2004) and Laubscher (2005) moot the idea that "the nostalgia and resultant mythologizing of Voëlvry have helped 'to manufacture an anti-apartheid past' for young Afrikaners grappling with post-apartheid issues of identity" (Pienaar 2012: 9). This revival was marked by a renewed interest in Afrikaans songs that had been parodied by Voëlvry during the 1980s.
The Voëlvry artists performed parodies of 'traditional' Afrikaans songs that were activated in service of Afrikaner nationalism by the Federasie vir Afrikaanse Kultuurverenigings (FAK). 6 The FAK was founded in 1929 with the ostensible purpose of serving as an umbrella organisation for the myriad Afrikaans cultural organisations that had sprung up during the preceding two decades. In truth, however, the federation was established in order to function as the 'public front' 5 'Zef', an abbreviation for 'Ford Zephyr', denotes a vulgar strand of Afrikaans rap emerging during the past decade. The concept of zef originated in the 1960s and 1970s as a derogatory term to refer to working-class whites (Krueger 2012). In rap songs by Die Antwoord it involves a way of presenting the artistic persona in a purposefully degrading way through a musical repertoire that is banal and nihilist, celebrating a hybrid identity that resists being named or compartmentalised (Marx and Milton 2011: 734). 6 Federation of Afrikaans Cultural Societies of the Afrikaner Broederbond, 7 the secret organisation that emerged as the ideological vanguard of Afrikaner nationalism during the 1930s (Pelzer 1980: 120). The first FAK Songbook appeared in 1937 with the explicit aim of inspiring Afrikaner nationalism and patriotism; various FAK Songbooks published over the next decades continued to serve as building blocks of Afrikaner ethnic mobilisation and Afrikaner nationalism (Klopper 2009: 91). 8 During 1980s, Voëlvry artists recycled FAK songs as critical expression, often with slightly changed/new lyrics and/or melodies, or with melodic/lyric elements of the original songs incorporated into newly composed renditions.
FAK-inspired songs that will feature in our discussion include "Siembamba" in a rendering performed by Koos Kombuis and Johannes Kerkorrel during the Voëlvry tour (1989), as well as two versions of "Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira" by Lucas Maree and by Karen Zoid. From an ideology-critical point of departure these songs may reveal fundamental underlying ethical and moral values suggestive of philosophical deep structure that we shall identify in our analysis as 'postures of protest'. As will be highlighted in our analysis, these postures concern the basic existential questions of 'Who are we?' and 'What must we do?' -problems that lie at the heart of local critical whiteness discourse.

Conceptual framework
The overarching point of departure for our analysis pertains to a theoretical framework developed by the South African philosopher Johann Visagie, which forms part of a more encompassing model called Discourse Archaeology (DA). This model consists of several interacting sub-theories that are used to examine the deeper strata of symbolic discourse, enabling the analyst to examine wideranging fields, "all of them having to do with questions of origin and ground, root and centre, on the level of praxis as well as theory" (Visagie 2007: 1). 9 Postural Theory 10 deals with postures that are central to the most basic states of the human 7 The Afrikaner Broederbond (Confederation of Afrikaner Brothers), a secret organisation promoting Afrikaner nationalism (Bloomberg 1990) exercised undue power during the era of apartheid, in that its members occupied key positions within governmental, military, educational and religious bodies. Through the state-controlled South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC) cultural content, including music was regulated. 8 Schutte and Viljoen (2017) as well as Lüdemann (2008) point to the influence of Nazi ideology within FAK Songbooks. 9 Visagie's theory has been employed to analyse Afrikaans protest songs in the recent past; see Viljoen (2005Viljoen ( , 2011, Lambrechts and Visagie (2009) condition. The elements of the set are both descriptive of what is, and normative as to what is proper or valued or ideal (Visagie 2007: 2).
The first group of postures is the 'dark side' postures: experiencing meaninglessness, suffering and guilt, all of which are arguably factual conditions experienced by humans from time to time. Each of these postures is independent of and irreducible to the others, and each also has a normative side to it, meaning that we should occasionally allow ourselves to be in these states in order to avoid inauthenticity and self-alienation (Visagie 2004: 1). When confronted with loss, for example, one should allow oneself to experience meaninglessness or suffering.
On the 'light side', Postural Theory differentiates between vita activa (ordinary life -being at work, being at rest or at play) and vita contemplativa (retreating from the ordinary and reflecting on life and its meaning). The prominent posture of taking care (either ethically or morally) can be seen as taking care of nature, culture, oneself as well as others (Visagie 2007: 13). Related to this are the 'gestures' of justice and love. A further posture includes some general normative values such as letting go of (or giving up) persons, dreams, ideals, cherished pain and suffering. When humility is intertwined with taking care (of the other), it produces the notion of respect, but combined with suffering, humility becomes the anti-normative figure of humiliation (Visagie 2004: 2). A final group represents postural themes that are connected to the inner states of minds that we value: experiencing joy, hope and peace (calmness, serenity).
As will become apparent in our analysis of FAK-inspired protest songs, postures might act as clusters, stand in opposition, or work together. Moreover, the songs to be studied imply that Afrikaner identity is not a homogenous state of being. For this reason, in addition to Visagie's Postural Theory, complementary interpretative perspectives will add to our discussion. These hold relevance for our enquiry in that they have the potential to illuminate identity construction from perspectives that inform an understanding of dislocated post-apartheid senses of self. The first is Elwira Brygola's (2011) model for studying 'the threatened identity', which addresses the existential question 'who am I?' according to five categories of compromised being. These are (1) constructive re-evaluation; (2) key experience; (3) stable narrative sequence; (4) the seeking of power and autonomy; and (5) the loss of part of oneself.
As supplementary interpretative lens, Nicholas Vanderhaegen's (2014: 31) notion of 'othering' and 'self-othering' will be considered as pertaining to concepts of difference. Vanderhaeghen (2014: 31) maintains that othering can exist in (a) the position in which an individual finds himself in relation to the external group; that is, the 'othering' of the self in relation to the 'other other', and (b) the 'othering' of the self in relation to the self. Regarding the post-apartheid context, according to Vanderhaegen (2004: 1), "Self-othering takes place within discourses of guilt, loss, fear, belonging, transformation and reconciliation, at a time when a national identity imagined as a 'Rainbow Nation' is being contested by discourses of Africanism, nativism and minority rights." Finally, our reading of identity construction in the songs concerned will refer to the notion of 'over-determinism' as formulated by way of Visagie's concept of the hypernorm. Within Visagie's frame of reference, a hypernorm is an autonomous norm, value or practice that dominates and controls other norms, values or practices to such an extent that ideological bias and partiality results (see also Schutte and Visagie 2012: 115ff). This construct is useful, in particular, for understanding discourse about language, culture and identity that is characterised by non-reflexive, one-sided thought.

Postures of protest in FAK-inspired songs
In their original versions, the songs to be discussed as part of our analysis all form part of the 1968 version of the FAK songbook. 11 They are included in our analysis on grounds of their critical engagement with, or affirmation of, normative white subjectivities.
The most recent edition of the FAK Songbook was issued in 2012, 12 and reprinted in 2019. This edition contains 400 contemporary Afrikaans songs -some of which were contributed by non-conformist artists such as Koos Kombuis, Anton Goosen, and Karen Zoid. However, it is notable that in this large selection of songs provocative content is either avoided or concealed by way of category placement. An example is Bok van Blerk's controversial "De la Rey", which appears under the section 'Evergreen and Popular'. None of the songs analysed in this article are included in the new FAK Songbook.
The first song introduced in our discussion is Johannes Kerkorrel's and Koos Kombuis's version of "Siembamba" as performed during the Voëlvry Tour in 1989. Du Plessis (1935: 113) traces the roots of the first verse of the original FAK version of "Siembamba" to the 18th-Century Cape Malay slave community. Though many of the ghoema songs originating from this period constituted "satirical commenting 11 Although all the songs appear in later editions of the FAK songbook, we prefer to use the 1968 version of the FAK songbook because it was published during a time in which apartheid flourished. The song "Siembamba" can be found in the FAK editions printed between 1937 and 1979. "Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira" was added in 1961. 12 http://www.fak.org.za/2012/06/13/fak-sangbundel-afrikaners-is-weer-plesierig-metfaksangbundel/.
on the ways of the white masters, or more frequently, madams" (Winberg 1992: 78), "Siembamba" was sung as a lullaby (Du Plessis 1935: 113). Provided with five new verses by CJ Langenhoven, the author of the apartheid anthem "Die Stem van Suid-Afrika" ('The Call of South Africa'), the song is generally still seen as a nursery rhyme or lullaby. Clearly, Langenhoven intended his lyrics as humorous satire, its message being that all men remain babies until they die. 13 Langenhoven's amusing lyrics, however, are a different category of satire than was the case with the Cape Malay songs -which later have been claimed as Afrikaner cultural goods. Winberg (1992: 89) underlines this irony, "[t]he satirical traditions of the ghoemaliedjie live on […] in the most soulful utterances of Afrikanerdom". While in the case of "Siembamba" most adaptations retained the song's original de-politicised meaning, C Louis Leipoldt's (1980: 22) dramatic monologue "Siembamba" laments the harsh conditions in the English concentration camps during the South African War. The poem displays strong Nationalist sentiments, yet Leipoldt acknowledges the indigenous origin of "Siembamba's" first verse as "'n lokasieliedjie" (a location song) (Leipoldt 1980: 22).
Koos Kombuis's and Johannes Kerkorrel's subversive 'recycled' version, "Siembamba" 14 was recorded during a live performance in 1989 and appears on the CD, Voëlvry, die toer, released as a compilation in 2002. Kombuis and Kerkorrel co-wrote this adaptation. Despite their provocative lyrics, they maintained the original song's innocent musical atmosphere using a simple piano accompaniment based on a repetitive, broken-chord figure.
Siembamba 15 , baba is 'n junky Siembamba, baby is a junky Siembamba, baba is 'n junky Siembamba, baby is a junky Want pappa naai escorts because daddy fucks escorts En mamma lê dronk and mommy lies drunk en baba gooi 'n handvol pille in sy mond and baby throws a handful of pills in his mouth 13 Siembamba was included in the FAK for the first time in 1937 but without the original first verse (Gutsche et al. 1937). 14 This song was also adapted in 1989 to criticise the decision of the University of Stellenbosch to ban a Voëlvry performance on the campus (Hopkins 2006: 183 While the original FAK version of "Siembamba" is well-known and cherished as light-hearted Afrikaner culture, in its revised version, the two left-wing artists 16 This song was written by my flatmate and for this, he was fired from the civil service. 17 Although this is not part of the lyrics, it can be heard on the recording, and serves to emphasise the risks involved for artists at the time -notably the members of Voëlvry (Truscott 2011). radically challenged dominant discourses of Afrikaner identity at the time. Not oblivious to the original song's cultural value, Kombuis and Kerkorrel intended to shock with their brutal perspective on the falseness and pretence of the Afrikaner ethos.
In the first verse, both literally and metaphorically, a stark contrast is created between the original lullaby's innocence and the reality of apartheid society, which, as insinuated, was rotten to the core. The focus then turns to the violent, state-controlled repression of black protest during apartheid in referencing 'hit[ting Sipho] with a club', and 'let[ting]him slip on soap so that he could die'. These phrases refer to the South African Security Forces Special Branch's gross human rights violations during apartheid, and the unconvincing reasons offered for deaths in detention of black anti-apartheid activists (see Swenson 2017). 18 Indeed the phrases 'roll him into the ditch' and 'let him slip on soap and then he will be dead' accentuate the extreme disregard for black lives at the time and the 'accidental deaths' or 'deaths in detention' so common during apartheid. Then the artists highlight Afrikaners' complacency and ignorance ('forget about your why's') and their refusal to acknowledge the political crisis of apartheid ('stay in your suburb; read your newspaper'). The latter phrase also refers to the Afrikaans newspapers' silencing or covering-up of apartheid atrocities, including black protest ('… before you know it, the fucking place is burning'). The song ends with a satirical allusion to the then State President's daughter, Rozanne Botha, and to her poems that evaded political content and were also of low quality (Hambidge 1991).
In terms of a postural reading, a curious similarity may be postulated between the mother who takes care of her child in the original version of "Siembamba" and Kombuis's and Kerkorrel's subversive rendition. In contemplating the suffering of fellow (black) South Africans, the artists undoubtedly risked being cast out by their cultural group. Thus, the posture of taking care becomes ambiguous in that they did not behave according to rules prescribed by the cultural in-group, but instead took on the plight of 'the other'. As indicated in our exposition of Visagie's (2007: 12) framework, caring postures may take on an ethical or a moral stance. While the former seeks superiority and merit for 'me and my people', the latter entails doing the same for other cultures. Kombuis's and Kerkorrel's "Siembamba" suggests a moral posture of compassion that seeks justice for the oppressed.
In his reflection on local white identity, De Kock (2006: 177) identifies two ways in which the sense of self may be fashioned, "first, according to a sense of rebellion against the strictures of one's one cultural habitus, or, second, it may be 'seamed' -held together in a strained relation to a perceived alterity".
Clearly, the posture of protest as voiced in Kombuis and Kerkorrel's "Siembamba" may be categorised under the first, insubordinate type of identity construction. Grundlingh (2004: 485) describes the Voëlvry movement as "the first time full-blown rock and roll with biting social commentary was seen to challenge the generally perceived staid and shackled Afrikaans cultural and political world". This implies that in terms of Vanderhaegen's (2004: 1) thought, as 'alternative' Afrikaners, the artists' distancing from apartheid oppression is suggestive of his notion of 'self-othering'. However, there is a single phrase in the lyrics of "Siembamba" where, arguably, the artists momentarily identify with the 'own' group, namely '… forget about a future'. This statement clarifies their utter disillusionment with apartheid South Africa, suggesting the posture of meaninglessness, and their personal loss of innocence (see Brygola 2011: 63).
In contrast to Kombuis's and Kerkorrel's version of "Siembamba" which openly protests against Afrikaner culture and apartheid, the Afrikaans singer Lucas Maree's version of "Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira" ('Take your things and move, Ferreira'), released on the CD Blouberg in 2001, represents a more ambiguous response to the delegitimisation of white identity in post-apartheid South Africa.
Speculation exists as to the origin of "Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira". Cobus Ferreira (1983: 15) ascribes the origin of the song to spontaneous late 19th-Century sing-alongs accompanied by a seraphine in the so-called Onder-Kouga, the cradle of the Ferreira and Gerber families. Indeed, one Ferreira inhabitant was nicknamed Jan (Been) Ferreira (Jan 'Leg ' Ferreira). Prinsloo (2004), on the other hand, maintains that according to Die Boerevrouw of October 1926 the original song was written by Mrs Annie Molony and Ada van Aardt, presumably in 1926, 19 in frustrated response to a farmer (Ferreira) who failed to leave his farm after it had been sold to his rich neighbour (Ada van Aardt's father). SJ du Toit (1932: 15), however, notes that the song was mentioned in 1889 in a book by Dr Hendrik PN Muller, who assumed that this was "a Voortrekker song". Du Toit, a respected clergyman and staunch Nationalist, makes a surprising case for two other possible explanations. The song might have been written to drive away an unwanted (crippled) suitor or it was sung as a parody ("paskwil") in 1870 by the 19 As recorded in Die Boervrou, October 1926, https://maroelamedia.co.za/afrikaans/idiome-enuitdrukkings/uitdrukking-vat-jou-goed-en-trek-ferreira/.
residents of a small town as an inhabitant decided to leave his wife and home after it became known that she had engaged in an affair with one of his friends (Du Toit 1932: 15). In this explanation, while "Jan Ferreira" was possibly merely a pseudonym, the man did have bandy legs -and the reference to "heavy carrying on one side" probably referred to the unfaithful wife's condition (Du Toit 1932: 15).
Another reference to "Vat jou goed en trek" was by Piet Uithalder (a pseudonym for Dr Abdullah Abdurahman) in his satirical column Straatpraatjes, which appeared in the official mouthpiece of the African Political Organisation between 1909and 1922(Adhikari 1996. In his account, Abdurahman recalls that they (the Muslim community) used to sing this song as children. However, few of them knew that, in the tradition of "ghoemaliedjies", it mocked South African Party statesman Louis Botha, the first Prime Minister of the Union of South Africa, known for limiting the rights of black South Africans. Abdurahman's account underlines the spontaneous cultural exchange that took place between ethnic groups at the time. Apart from lyrics, this also involved musical idiomsthe influence of "ghoema" music on "boeremusiek" being a case in point (see Viljoen, Louw and Viljoen (2018).
Whether initially the song was meant as a practical joke, or political satire, musically speaking, "Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira" has a cheerful character, aided by the key of A major and a simple harmonic progression of I-IV-V, befitting the postural qualities of play. Perhaps for this reason, Maree's version of this song is so striking: the 'innocent' intent of playfulness in the original version is replaced by a more complex postural quality. Despite Maree's rendition's playful musical character, the postural question of 'What am I to do?' comes strongly to the fore in the lyrics, with Maree questioning the future of the Afrikaner in South Africa. It is well known that many South Africans emigrated or considered emigrating 21 after the demise of apartheid, and, at first glance, it seems as if Maree is encouraging people to do the same -or perhaps considering emigration himself. The chorus ends with a reminder that if you carry a heavy load on one side only, you will end up moving in circles.
Thus, in the first verse, the posture of suffering becomes apparent by juxtaposing perceived former freedom with the symbolism of moving in a circle of (political) captivity. The chorus affirms the suffering stance in referring to the lack of personal and professional freedom. This hints at a situation in South Africa where, due to political redress, some Afrikaners resent having become subservient to black superiors (the 'other', in Vanderhaegen's 2014: 1 terms). As Maree indicates, this suffering is 'expected' from you: you have to do heavy carrying on the one side under the Afrikaner's complicity with apartheid (the posture of guilt).
The second verse is an even more robust expression of the longing for freedom, and letting go of political guilt. Here, the use of Piet Retief's 22 name might evoke an emotive association not only with the Voortrekker Afrikaner heritage, but also with Retief's punitive expeditions in the Cape Colony in response to Xhosa looting (see Giliomee 2003: 136ff). Once again, in this verse, the 'grey posture' associated with new South African limitations (expensive petrol, the wilderness already being too crowded) erases any likelihood of escape as Maree reminds the wouldbe immigrant (and himself) that the overseas 'paradise' is also rife with problems. Thus, the individual needs to let go of any futile aspirations of fleeing to a new life.
Yet Maree adds more fuel to the fire with his assertion that people do not take care of one another ("as soon as you leave, there will be another in your place"). Life goes on, and the circle of suffering is here to stay: Being white and an Afrikaner, suffering is mandatory, politically correct and thus to be expected. After a repeat of the chorus a pennywhistle can be heard improvising in a kwela style 23 on new material added to the original melody. It is interesting to note that the basic harmonic progressions of this insert (I-I-IV-V and I-IV-V-I) are also basic to the harmonic patterns of kwela music (Allen 2005:268), and in the context of Maree's Afrikaans song, instigates a cultural asymmetry between different cultures, at least on a symbolic level.
Finally, Maree does contemplate giving up and leaving the country -following the example of Van Riebeeck and his wife. Momentarily it would appear as if he was still hopeful and willing to let go of the idea of leaving ("perhaps we should stay and see if we learn something"). Yet in the final chorus he instructs 'Ferreira' (and possibly himself) to take his things and leave (by plane). The final phrases are accompanied by ululations 24 heard in the background, bringing the song to an evidently joyous end. However, this gesture may perhaps be suggestive of the triumph of 'the other', expressing a kind of sardonic humour -a final ironic indication of the clash of cultures in post-apartheid South Africa.
22 Piet Retief was one of the leaders of the so-called Great Trek in 1837. 23 Allen (2005: 268) describes the most salient characteristic of kwela music as "the repetition of a short harmonic cycle over which a series of short melodies or motifs ... are repeated and varied". 24 Ululations heard in South Africa are typically used by black South Africans to give praise.
In terms of an overarching postural reading, Maree's "Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira" is suggestive of meaninglessness. It is an iconic example of Brygola's (2011) 'threatened identity' in imparting the idea of 'the loss of part of oneself', as well as fear of an uncertain future (see Vanderhaegen 2004: 1). Even though Maree is seemingly indecisive about 'staying' or 'leaving', the song projects ideologically biased thought on new South African culture and identity (see Schutte and Visagie 2012: 115ff). In that sense, it may be interpreted as also representing Brygola's (2001) threatened identity type of 'seeking power and autonomy'.
"Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira" again appeared on a CD called Volksbesit 2 in 2003, two years after Maree had recorded his version of this FAK folk song. This CD's title seems to indicate that the selection of songs belongs to the Afrikaner, integrated into a different historical, political and socio-historical environment than its origin. In contrast to Maree's version, this song is an outright pessimistic contemplation of the consequences of apartheid. Zoid does not beat around the bush when, in the first verse, she accuses some of her fellow citizens of faking the taking care posture to appease their guilt ('You say you are a new Afrikaan'). This display of arrogance and pretentiousness implies that a vital posture is lacking, namely that of humility. 28 However, the 'new Afrikaanses' also constitute a form of 'othering'; in Kriel's (2013: 265) view, they even represent a faction evocative of 'a new apartheid '. 29 Intimating that 'new Afrikaanses' form their politically correct opinions on what they read in The Star (a daily independent Gauteng newspaper featuring 28 Ironically, historically speaking, the humility posture was taken very seriously in the Afrikaner life world, but within apartheid extended only to fervent, Calvinist belief in the sovereignty of God. 29 Kriel (2013: 279) cites Breyten Breytenbach in rejecting the term 'Afrikaanses', defining all those who use Afrikaans as a mother-tongue, including coloured and black South Africans, as 'Afrikaners'. political opinion pieces), this, too, for her is a mere display of pretentiousness and a concealment of indifference. Thus, in Zoid's view, this faction of post-apartheid Afrikaners, despite their liberalist pretences, only takes care of themselves and their own cultural group. Although the concept of taking care in Visagie's (2007: 12) terms is categorised under the 'light' postures, in this respect, Zoid's interpretation suggests a 'darker' self-centred stance of self-preservation.
The third verse clarifies that this song targets white Afrikaans-speaking 'neonationalists' because of Zoid's contemptuous reference to the FAK Songbook, their unescapable past. Keeping to a rock song structure, the chorus is repeated twice after the bridge towards the end of the song, a seemly way for Zoid to (also) musically attack those who are not willing to face their guilt and political complicity without which any hope of reconciliation would not be possible.
In admonishing the pretences of false political redress ('because what was wrong is still left and right') Zoid in this song takes on a stance of 'self-othering' (see Vanderhaegen 2004: 1). Implying the type of 'threatened identity' termed by Brygola (2011) the 'constructive re-evaluation of the self', her version of "Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira" infers that those Afrikaners who want to preserve a strong sense of cultural identity, should gather their possessions and leave the country. In postural terms the song constitutes taking care morally both of the own group and the other. However, the singer does not escape underlying sentiments of futility and meaninglessness if such change would fail to materialise ('No future, are you happy?'). In this sense, "Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira" constitutes both rebellion against Zoid's cultural group, and, in admonishing them, simultaneously her strained yet inescapable ties to this group (see De Kock 2006: 177).

Conclusion
To conclude our postural reading of FAK-inspired protest songs as presented in this article, it is evident that the three songs discussed offer diverging perspectives on Afrikaner apartheid and post-apartheid identity. Though similar postures were featured in all three songs, these were highlighted from different moral and ethical stances, underlining the fact that Afrikaner identity is not (and has never been) a homogenous construct -especially not within an era where the voice(s) of other Afrikaans-speaking ethnicities are ever more strongly heard within local popular musics (see Klopper 2009: 16).
Seen from the perspective of postural theory, it may speculatively be argued that Kombuis's and Kerkorrel's unsettling version of the FAK song "Siembamba" guaranteed attention from the Afrikaner community and apartheid government. The irony of using a memorable folk song to protest against the ruling nationalist government might have been lost on some listeners. But perhaps the artists intended to go a step further than the subversive voicing of critique, and through moral judgement impel a sense of guilt and blame through their music.
While post-apartheid artists confronted questions of identity and cultural heritage by employing FAK folk songs as tools for irony, parody, social commentary and criticism, in the case of Lucas Maree's "Vat jou goed en trek Ferreira", we highlighted postures of suffering and meaninglessness in relation to Afrikaner resistance to political redress. Here, the burden of guilt was shown to be an unwelcome consequence of the apartheid past -one from which the singer wished to escape.
In contemplating Karen Zoid's powerful version of "Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira", the root metaphor of 'war', relevant to the central sphere of Postural Theory's 'attack-defend logic' comes to mind (Visagie 2004: 2). While the Voëlvry artists attacked the apartheid regime with "Siembamba", a defend mechanism became apparent in Maree's "Vat jou goed en trek, Ferreira" in that he inherently upheld and longed for the 'good old days' in his FAK-inspired lyrics. On the other hand, Zoid forcefully attacked the post-apartheid 'new Afrikaan' faction, using her rendition of the original folk song to assault the very society in which it was produced with an eschewed version of what used to be a cultural gem.
Our analyses of Afrikaans protest songs in this article, however, underline the fact that even critically-intended remonstration, while representing liminal experiences of being white and Afrikaans in apartheid and post-apartheid South Africa, may serve one-sided manifestations of ideological power in a country where, as De Klerk (2010: 52) finds, "the spectre of race shows no sign of dying". While, in principle, all three songs challenge dominant discourses of local ethnic identity, the essentialist (hypernormative) viewpoints propounded by them may also maintain polarisation. Yet, as historical expressions of white Afrikaans identity, they aid understandings of reactionary and radical displays of white individuality as conceptualised within the shifting racial, cultural, gendered, and class-divided space of contemporary local popular music.