It's been a long drive across Namibia. I've trekked from the coastal mist of Swakopmund, through the great deserts and mountains, into the vast tablelands of the interior. I'm seeking a lost tribe before they disappear for good.
On the way I've encountered many other Namibian racial groups. I've met Lhosi, Ovango, Herero, and Himba; I've seen stolid German burghers in Walvis Bay, rugby-mad Boers in Windhoek and the bare-breasted women of the north.
But according to reports the group of people I'm about to encounter are the most extraordinary of all. The Basters of Rehoboth.
If the name 'Basters' sounds a little pejorative, that's no coincidence. The term actually means 'bastards' in Dutch. Yet the Basters wear this label proudly, because it speaks to them of their heritage: they are the offspring of 18th-century
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sean thomas goes in search of Namibia’s Basters – a small but exotic mixed-race tribe |
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crossbreeding between Dutch Afrikaaners and Khoisan Bushmen.
Such interbreeding created an awkward situation for the racist and colonial psyche of the time. The Basters were deemed to be 'superior' to normal black people, by the Dutch and English, but were still too black to be accepted as proper Europeans. Black people in turn regarded the 'half-breeds' as somehow treacherous.
The Basters themselves found this situation insulting - and uncomfortable. Consequently in 1868 they quit the Cape Colony, and headed for the empty farmland of central Namibia, where they established the so-called Free Republic of Rehoboth. And there they remain to this day.
As I walk around the dusty market town of Rehoboth, I can see one result of the Basters' unusual lineage: those tall blond Dutch  |
