Fortress Johannesburg

Abstract

Material constructs have fashioned and helped to structure South Africa. Throughout, not least in the thrusting, bursting commercial core of the country, Johannesburg, the ideology of racism has shaped and yet shapes our landscape. Everywhere, expressly in this coarse city of gold, buildings declare nakedly, often eloquently, what manner of people built them and what they stood for. As most citizens claw their way from formal to tangible liberation, as others cling to privilege, these overt statements become more poignant, more fearfully security-conscious. Fortress Johannesburg. Join us in a journey of the mind's eye: from arrival by air as newcomers, perhaps tourists, at the crass sterility of Johannesburg International Airport; as witnesses to the bustling street life of an alien city centre; as eager consumers in the genteel shopping malls of lush, white suburbs. Visit a vibrant African bazaar where newly arrived country folk meet with their city-wise fellows in an appropriated setting. Then, in this land of scaring poverty, ponder with us the arrogant, the boorish anomalies of self-consciously luxurious banking halls, office parks, armed suburban enclaves. Travel through purportedly impregnable zones of razor-wire, snapping guard dogs, manned sentry boxes, electronic security systems—Fortress Johannesburg. Recall all the while—as though one could forget—a ubiquitous but now publicly unspeakable article of faith: the ever-present assumption that criminality, frequently violent, is an attribute of skin colour. Repeat with us, like a catechism, those simple but unnerving questions: whose city is this, who orders, who controls Fortress Johannesburg?