R for Republiek

Nine months ago Prime Minister Hendrik Frensch Verwoerd ordered a nation wide referendum (whites only) to convert South Africa into a republic. He, like almost everyone else, expected a majority of South African voters on Oct. 5 to endorse his plans to depose Queen Elizabeth II as titular chief of state. But last week, as Verwoerd's Afrikaner-dominated Na tional Party convened in dusty Bloemfontein under the proposed republican flag (with an R for Republiek in place of the Union Jack), his chances of winning a solid victory in the referendum were looking much less bright.

The opposition United Party, which speaks primarily for South Africa's 1.3 million English-speaking citizens, was campaigning vigorously against the republic, plastering walls and posts with hundreds of thousands of placards simply inscribed "no." But Verwoerd's main worry is the threat of widespread defections among his own 1.7 million Afrikaners, many of whom showed signs of losing enthusiasm for their long-proclaimed desire to break South Africa's ties with the British crown. In Johannesburg the Rand Daily Mail's poll of 100 people named Van der Merwe (the Afrikaner equivalent of Jones or Smith) found only 33 in favor of a republic, 20 opposed and the rest undecided.

Economic troubles have something to do with Afrikaner hesitation. The Sharpeville massacre of 72 South African blacks last March and the international revulsion that followed sent shares on the Johannesburg Stock Exchange plummeting $1.2 billion as foreign investors withdrew their money. Afrikaner farmers and businessmen are feeling the pinch of the $23 million in exports that South Africa is expected to lose this year as a result of the boycott of South African goods by Ghana. Malaya, the West Indies and others. And all South African businessmen are haunted by the fear that if Verwoerd proclaims a republic, other Commonwealth members may reject South Africa's request to remain, nonetheless, within the Commonwealth and its preferential tariff system.

To offset these painful economic considerations, Verwoerd last week pulled out some political stops. He called an end to the state of emergency under which South Africans have lived since Sharpeville, released thousands of political prisoners who have been held without charge. To ensure plenty of scary headlines on the eve of the referendum, Sept. 12 was set for the trial of David Pratt, the English-born farmer who shot but only lightly wounded Verwoerd in April. In the back country, Nationalist campaigners are warning voters that there will be ways to tell who voted against the republic. And Verwoerd himself has bluntly stated that he intends to make South Africa a republic no matter what happens at the polls Oct. 5.

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