South Africa Zulu Chief in the Middle

By JANICE C. SIMPSON

At a time of sharply escalating racial unrest, who is the most popular South African leader among the country's white minority? State President P.W. Botha, who is pushing for limited reforms? Archbishop-elect Desmond Tutu, the Nobel Peace Prize laureate whose cries for change have been tempered by condemnations of violence? Gavin Relly, the chairman of the giant Anglo- American Corp., who last year led a delegation of white businessmen to Lusaka, Zambia, for an unprecedented meeting with the exiled leadership of the African National Congress (A.N.C.)? According to a recent poll, that distinction | belongs to none of the above but to Mangosuthu Buthelezi, chief of the nation's 6 million Zulus. A total of 83% of Afrikaner businessmen polled picked Buthelezi, 57, as a "good leader," compared with 67% for Botha.

Buthelezi's primary appeal to whites lies in his endorsement of capitalist principles, his commitment to nonviolence and his willingness to resolve the nation's racial differences through compromise. Many South Africans regard him as perhaps the only man, white or black, who can bring about a peaceful end to the hated apartheid system. This very prominence makes him a figure of suspicion and even derision among many militant blacks, who dismiss him as a puppet of the Pretoria government. Even so, all sides agree that the Zulu chief is likely to play a pivotal role in the future of the country.

Last month Buthelezi opened a historic indaba, or meeting, between whites and blacks to discuss guidelines for creating in his home state of Natal the country's first completely multiracial government. If the proposals are ever accepted, Buthelezi, who has steadfastly refused government offers of independence for KwaZulu, the territory within Natal designated as the Zulu homeland, could become provincial governor, the first black ever to hold such a post. Some observers suggest that the innovative power-sharing plan could serve as a model for the country as a whole. Indeed, if apartheid were to be totally dismantled and black South Africans were politically free, Buthelezi would not rule out the possibility of a national cooperative effort between Zulus and Afrikaners. "I could see the possibility of such an alliance," he says, "as long as any alliance is in the common good."

Buthelezi's political base is the 1 million-strong Inkatha, the Zulu movement he leads. On May Day, when militant black union leaders who favor divestiture spearheaded a nationwide walkout, Buthelezi staged a rally to launch a new labor organization to challenge them. "Why are they so persistent to push disinvestment even with the knowledge that we blacks, whom they purport to be helping, are the ones who will suffer most?" he asks.

What sets Buthelezi apart from other black nationalists is his rejection of violence and economic sanctions against the government. "I will not lead black South Africans to maim, hack and kill black South Africans, nor will I lead blacks to maim, hack and kill white South Africans," he says. He insists that the only real chance for change is through negotiation. Says Buthelezi: "There are no prospects either now or in the foreseeable future of toppling the South African government by violent means. The harsh reality, which for us is an inescapable reality, is that we do not destroy the foundations of the future by what we do now."

Buthelezi was born in eastern Natal, where he grew up hearing tales of an ancestor, the warrior king Shaka, who established the Zulu empire in the mid- 19th century. He earned a degree in history and African administration at the black University of Fort Hare. Married and the father of seven children, he is devoted to classical music, the study of history and his Anglican faith. The well-traveled Buthelezi is equally comfortable in the skins, feathers and beads of his Zulu forebears and in dark, well-cut business suits. His prestige is such that he has conferred with Pope John Paul II, President Reagan, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and other world leaders.

Even his bitterest critics acknowledge that Buthelezi's antiapartheid credentials are solid and long-standing. As a student, he joined the A.N.C., the now outlawed black-liberation organization, and served as a lieutenant to its late leader, Albert Luthuli. One of Buthelezi's closest friends at the time was Nelson Mandela, the incarcerated A.N.C. leader who has refused to renounce violence until blacks are granted full political rights. The two men have kept in touch through letters during the 24 years of Mandela's imprisonment. The Zulu leader has repeatedly called for Mandela's release and the lifting of the A.N.C. ban as prerequisites for meaningful negotiation between blacks and the government.

Buthelezi rejected the 1984 constitution that created a tricameral Parliament, which excluded black representation. He is critical of the government's failure to institute reforms more quickly. "We are moving in the right direction," he says. "But whatever progress has been made is not enough. The fundamental issue of power sharing at the center has not been addressed."

Until the mid-'70s, Buthelezi was considered an ally by A.N.C. militants, but his refusal to turn Inkatha into a "surrogate liberation network" for the A.N.C. angered its exile leadership. He insists that "real A.N.C." leaders like Mandela will probably agree with his approach. Last week he proposed that he be allowed to visit Mandela in prison and clear up the lingering confusion over their relationship. Says Buthelezi: "I long for the day when Mandela and others can stand on the same platform as I and present the people with alternatives."

With reporting by Peter Hawthorne/ Johannesburg