Yolandi Groenewald counts the casualties at last week’s Boerevolk reenactment of the battle of Amajuba

an all the English please die?" the Boer general asks as the English prepare to hike up the mountain from their camp. A lone Union Jack waves solemnly over the camp while a sea of Vierkleure (the old ZAR flag) decorates the hilltop. The British are outnumbered and the English commander just smiles and nods his head as a rendition of the famous De la Rey tune, sung by a Boere knaap, thunders over speakers.

Watching over the surrealistic scene is a bunch of British tourists -- and members of the Boerevolk. The scene takes place at Amajuba mountain, just 10km outside Volkrust on the border of Mpumalanga and KwaZulu-Natal.

A little more than 127 years ago, the battle of Amajuba was forever written into the history books by a small Boer army overcoming the might of the Victorian army. From generation to generation, proud Afrikaners have told their children how they defeated the English that day and won the first Anglo-Boer War, killing 92 Englishmen and only suffering one casualty themselves.

Now, every year in February, a few hundred people gather at Amajuba mountain to celebrate the battle. This year the Dundee Die Hards, South Africa’s only permanent battle reenactment team staged a battle with Boer troops, made up with commando members from Lydenburg and Pretoria.

But, since 2000, the cultural celebration has become more than just the remembrance of a battle. Bit by bit, it has acquired a political taste as the people who gathered distanced themselves more and more from Afrikaners and reclaimed what they deemed a forgotten identity. They are the Boerevolk.

Over the past week, the Boer commandos trekked all the way from the north of Mpumalanga to the Amajuba camp on horseback, carrying the Vierkleur and other Boerevolk flags in their wake and sleeping on farms.

First, the Victorian army soldiers, dressed in their blood-red uniforms, marched up the hill to the sound of Scottish music. Then the Boer soldiers started creeping up the mountain, their khaki uniforms blending in perfectly with the veld. Just like their foolish ancestors, the Die Hards fired in unison at the Boere. In contrast, the Boere fired when needed and slowly picked off the English in their sitting-duck uniforms.

As the last English soldier was shot, the Boer general raised the flag and shouted in Afrikaans: “South Africa for the white man, and the British can come too, because we are all in this together.” The British tourists, of course, did not understand a word.

Almost immediately, die Volk sang the ZAR national anthem Kent gij dat volk vol heldemoed, followed by the Die lied van jong Suid Afrika.

One of the Boere-leaders is medical doctor Lets Pretorius, an accused in the Boeremag trial. Pretorius is quick to point out that he is not an Afrikaner, but a Boer.

“The fire of the Boerevolk burns within me. You might be poor, but if you feel the fire of being a Boer patriot, you will have wealth no one can take away from you,” he says fiercely. “It is the feeling of when you listen to De la Rey, something stirs inside that says this is my destiny.”

Pretorius, who is also the founder of new right-wing organisation or “Boer party” the Boerevolk Freedom Foundation, believes the Afrikaner oppressed the Boer nation as well and robbed them of their proud heritage.

“The Boerevolk never oppressed anyone,” he says. “We might have benefited from apartheid, but we were never the people who governed this country and made all those mistakes. Those were the Afrikaners.

“When diamonds and gold were discovered in the old ZAR republic, lots of these Afrikaners from the Cape, who never participated in the war, came up to the old republic to find their fortune. But what they didn’t bargain on was being called up for military service. Sadly, these people were the first to be turncoats, Hanskakies, verraaiers [traitors]. They absconded at the first opportunity.”

When the war ended, Pretorius says, these turncoats also shared in its spoils. They weren’t impoverished while the Boer soldiers who returned home had nothing left.

“These people were so impoverished, they were unable to participate in the politics of the day successfully and when the union of South Africa was formed in 1910, the Afrikaners from the Cape received most of the power.”

In 1914, when Boere rebels turned against the Jan Smuts government and refused to fight in World War I, they were mistakenly labelled as Afrikaner rebels, Pretorius says.

He says the Boerevolk was further sidelined during the Hertzog administration. But, in 1938, the big Groot Trek celebrations took place at the Voortrekker Monument and Boer patriotism took hold of the volk.

“But Afrikaners like DF Malan hijacked the Boer patriotism and used it to establish Afrikaner nationalism. With one shot, the Boerevolk was robbed of their identity.”

Pretorius says the Ossewa Brandwag that was established shortly afterward, just before World War II broke out, was again Boerevolk identity coming to the fore. But after Malan took control in 1948, it was nationalist ideals all the way. But, he says, since the Eighties, Boere have been rediscovering their identity and their sense of where they belong in the country -- even more so since 1994.

Just as the last pegs of the Die Hards’ English tents were packed away, the Boerevolk gathered. Boere-sport was scheduled for the afternoon, but the real sports took place in the meeting hall where heated discussions about the future of the Boerevolk overshadowed any game of tug of war.

In the corner, an amused Boer smiled before sharing a joke during a break in proceedings: “You know what they said about two Boers who landed on an island. They started two churches and three political parties. But that is our little volk for you.”

Boer commandos make their way to Amajuba carrying the 'Vierkleur' and other Boerevolk flags. (Photograph: Paul Botes)

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