When Judge Essa Moosa’s story is told, his secret link to the banned International Defence and Aid for Southern Africa (IDAF) in London is worthy of another chapter.
Throughout the 1980s, Judge Moosa corresponded with a seemingly innocent attorney's office in England who told him of a benevolent person who wanted to give him money, so he could ensure that the rights of political detainees and prisoners were safeguarded as far as was possible under apartheid legislation.
With this financial backing, Judge Moosa had the means to expose torture, was able to have long prison sentences somewhat reduced and was able to save people from the gallows.
By accepting the money, Judge Moosa was able to run a "political" legal practice without having to do the humdrum stuff of divorces, contracts or wills. The man Moosa wrote to in England actually got his instructions from another apparently innocent law firm who acted as the conduit to get the money to settle Judge Moosa’s expenses.
The second law firm acted as the agent for IDAF on condition they never revealed IDAF as the source of the money. The reason was that IDAF was banned in South Africa in 1966. This prompted Canon Collins, of St Paul’s Cathedral, London, to set up the secret operation that eventually provided money to 170 attorneys firms in South Africa. IDAF also looked after the families of those incarcerated and we depended on Judge Moosa to supply the addresses of the spouses of those imprisoned. Another and equally tricky IDAF scheme, using international postal orders, sustained many families over long years.
Most of IDAF’s funds were raised from the Swedish government, who needed IDAF to serve as the conduit. In this way, Swedish money was used to support those intent on overthrowing the apartheid government. It has often been suggested that the unsolved assassination of Olof Palme, Social Democrat Prime Minister of Sweden in 1986, points to the dirty tricks department of the apartheid security apparatus abroad. Besides IDAF, Sweden also supported the ANC during this time.
Judge Moosa knew about us in London - in fact we smuggled notes and messages back and forth. Had his connection to a banned organisation become known and that he received large amounts of money from us, he himself would have been in the dock and served imprisonment. Judge Moosa and I met for the first time in 1990 when IDAF was unbanned and I was allowed back into South Africa after 15 years in exile. Entering his office was like entering a dentist's waiting room.
Anguish was written over the faces of parents, spouses with babies on their laps, sisters and brothers who sought answers to the detentions and worries about torture of their loved ones.
Judge Moosa’s law office was one of several in Athlone - all steeped in resistance politics. But Judge Moosa stood out as the respected older and wiser man. His legal experience and the assumed knowledge that he conferred with, and the blessings of the liberation movement in exile, was a formidable combination.
Judge Moosa remained true to his principles to the end. He addressed us at St Marks Church on December 16, renewing the call for our government to make restitution real for those evicted from District Six half a century ago.