The inscription on the headstone reads: “Our beloved David Joseph Webster. Born 19 December 1945. Assassinated 1 May 1989.
Greater love hath no man than this that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Webster was an academic, anthropologist, activist, humanitarian and Rhodes graduate.
The inscription on the headstone reads: “Our beloved David Joseph Webster. Born 19 December 1945. Assassinated 1 May 1989.
Greater love hath no man than this that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Webster was an academic, anthropologist, activist, humanitarian and Rhodes graduate.
He came from a relatively conservative working class background but during his student days at Rhodes his view of the world gradually changed.
In a tribute to David after his assassination, fellow student Eddie Webster (no relation), recalled that in 1965 the Grahamstown City Council banned black people from watching the Rhodes first rugby team.
He and a small number of white students, including David, felt this was unfair. They protested on the library steps and sang freedom songs inspired by the civil rights movement in the southern states of America.
A course in Politics at Rhodes prompted Webster to change his major from Commerce to Social Anthropology.
It was a life-changing decision. For his Master’s field research, he spent a year living with the Chopi people in Mozambique which further influenced his world view.
He became increasingly politically active. Before his death he assisted and campaigned on behalf of detainees held without trial under security legislation.
Those who knew him recall his calm methodical approach, his humility and integrity. Webster and his partner, Maggie Friedman, wrote an article about the government’s methods of repression.
“Assassinations are used as one of the methods of controlling government opposition when all other methods such as detention or intimidation have failed,” they wrote.
Shortly afterwards, but before it was published, he was shot outside his home in Troyeville, Johannesburg. Thousands of people of all races, backgrounds and organisations from around the country converged on Johannesburg to mourn him.
The majority may not have known him in life, but felt his death was a reprehensible act and the funeral was an opportunity to further protest against apartheid.
There was a palpable mood that ‘enough was enough’ and that something was about to give. Undaunted by the presence of police who lined the route, people marched through the streets from St Mary’s Cathedral to Westpark Cemetery, bearing defiant banners.
Some walked in solemn silence, others toyitoyied energetically, singing and chanting. It was a hot day in May and the air crackled with rhetoric, and hummed with sadness, anger and anticipation.
Nelson Mandela was released from prison nine months later, but it would be almost another 10 years before Webster’s assassin, Ferdi Barnard, was finally sentenced to life imprisonment for his murder.
Barnard was a member of the Civil Co-operation Bureau (CCB), which was widely believed to have been deployed by the government to target anti-apartheid activists.
