For quite a number of years now, on the 16th of June, I have addressed meetings in celebration of Youth Day. I look forward to this event because I always feel energised after spending time with vibrant young people. I enjoy hearing the voices of our youth as we celebrate South Africa's history, South Africa's future and South Africa's hope. You fan the fire of patriotism in my heart and give me a sense of the continuity of our struggle. When I speak to our youth, my conviction is renewed that my work is far from done. Indeed, our struggle continues. It is a struggle for a just, prosperous and moral society in which every South African can claim a stake.

However, there is another reason that I look forward to Youth Day every year. In the Zulu culture, we believe that knowledge should be passed down from one generation to another. The older generation is the custodian of the rich history of our nation. But it is only as we teach the next generation that history can enrich, empower and enlighten. Our youth may have energy, enthusiasm and daring. But our elders have the wisdom of experience. I believe it is important that the two come together and share their strengths. Today's rally offers us just such a chance. In fact, no society can function normally as God meant it to do, without that sharing.

Across our nation, young people are gathering today. Schools are out.  Campuses are quiet. In stadiums everywhere, bands are performing and food is being sold. Friends are meeting. No doubt, young love is even blooming. All of this suggests that Youth Day is a day for young people, just like Father's Day is for dads and Mother's Day for moms. I feel that the further we come from April 27, 1994, the further removed our young people become from the truth behind days like today. History is continually being rewritten and re-evaluated. But the facts remain, and they should be remembered.

To me, it is vitally important that young South Africans understand why we mark the 16th of June on our calendar. I fear that the youth who are going to the polling stations for the first time next year grew up in a South Africa so different from the one I and my generation grew up in, that they may not see the value of being politically involved. There are so many young people today who have no political affiliation. There are countless more who don't know the names of political parties, never mind what they stand for. Some will vote for a party based on nothing more than a good slogan. Others won't vote at all. Yet if young people knew what politics is all about and why I say "our struggle continues", I think we can have a generation of involved and inspired youth.

For this reason, I want to take time today to remember the events that gave us Youth Day. The student uprising of 16 June 1976 began stirring the year before, when the previous Bantu Education Department issued a directive forcing secondary schools to teach in Afrikaans as a second medium of instruction in all urban African schools. When two teachers in Soweto refused to do so, they were fired. In many African schools, protests began. But let me give you the context.

The ANC and the PAC had recently been banned after the Sharpeville killings in 1960. Suddenly, there was no political home for those opposed to apartheid. In response, in 1975, I founded Inkatha yeNkululeko yeSizwe as a national cultural liberation movement. Inkatha was about political liberation. We worked to collapse the system from within and did so very effectively. Within two years of its formation, the then Justice Minister, Jimmy Kruger, realised Inkatha's strength and told me to confine it to Zulus only. In fact, in its panic, the apartheid Government disseminated propaganda saying that Inkatha was for Zulus only. But Inkatha was never just for Zulus. It spread quickly through KwaZulu Natal, Transvaal and the Free State, gaining membership among Zulus, Swazis, Xhosas, Tswanas, Sothos and more. The moment the law permitted, membership spread to whites, coloureds and Indians as well. But before that happened, there had been a law which the apartheid regime had on statute books which banned inter-racial politics.

From its inception, Inkatha was about more than political liberation.

With an eye on the prize, we sought to create a just, equal and prosperous country for all South Africans to inherit. I was determined not to deprive any South African of their citizenship, in the knowledge that once liberation was achieved, we should all share a slice of the pie. It was for that reason that I refused to accept nominal independence for KwaZulu. The apartheid Government dangled that carrot in front of me when I was Chief Minister of the erstwhile KwaZulu Government. If I had taken it, many South Africans would not have been South Africans on the day we finally got the democratic vote. When Transkei, Bophuthatswana, Venda and Ciskei operated as so-called independent states, it meant that all African groups from those "independent states" became foreigners in the rest of South Africa. They needed to carry passports in order to visit other parts of South Africa.

In the preamble of its first constitution, Inkatha sought to abolish all forms of discrimination and to secure "equal opportunity, justice, liberty, solidarity, peace, political, economic and social progress and prosperity for people in all walks of life. free from poverty, disease and ignorance." Ours was not a small vision. It was a big vision, for a great future. In the midst of all this, history began to change.

In March of 1976 I spoke at a rally at the Jabulani Amphitheatre in Soweto. The title of my address on that 21st day of March 1976 was "In This Approaching Hour of Crisis". I warned the then Government of an imminent uprising. It was clear that a groundswell of oppressed South Africans was gathering momentum and would soon break into a wave of protest. The whole system of Bantu education was marked by overcrowded classrooms, inadequately trained teachers, appalling insignificant funding, ramshackle school buildings and separate schools and universities. Protest was inevitable. On the 16th of June 1976, 20 000 pupils from Soweto began a protest march. Among them, were younger children who should not have been there. The top official of the municipal Bantu Administration in Soweto later made a statement accusing me of having come up to Soweto to incite the youth who were demonstrating against the imposition of Afrikaans as a second medium of education.

The police quickly intervened to stop the protest and teargas was fired.

But then the unthinkable happened. The police opened live fire on the crowd and young people began to die. To this day I ask myself, "Who would shoot at children?" But at that time it seems there were no children; only victims of a war that raged between one South African and another. In the 18 months that followed, chaos descended as migrant hostels were attacked and violent crowds began gruesome acts of necklacing.

At Mzimhlophe township there broke out a black-on-black conflict. The students organised a stay away in protest of the police shooting of students. They did so without informing hostel dwellers at the Mzimhlophe hostel. They simply barricaded the roads and burned tyres. As a result, violent clashes began between the hostel dwellers and the residents of Mzimhlophe township. I worked closely with Dr Beyers Naude of the Christian Institute in Johannesburg. He phoned me alerting me of the situation and a single-engine plane piloted by Reverend Cedric Mayson was sent to pick me up from Ulundi in order to try and mediate in that conflict.

The Commissioner of Police in Johannesburg issued a warning that if I dared to go to Mzimhlophe the police would take action against me. Mrs Helen Suzman pleaded with me not to defy the police and not to go to Mzimhlophe. However, I went to mediate. We had a meeting with hostel dwellers and the residents of Mzimhlophe township and ended up singing "Nkosi sikelel'iAfrika" together after my intervention. But this proved to be the beginning of an ugly pattern of black-on-black violent conflicts. There soon appeared such horrible things as necklacing. This was done by members of the UDF who would fill tyres with petrol and hang them around those they perceived to be traitors; in other words those who did not join them in doing what they did. The tyres were then set alight. 

Later that same year of the Soweto uprising, Mr Oliver Tambo addressed the United Nations General Assembly and called for disinvestment and sanctions against South Africa. I could not agree with this. I foresaw a future in which South Africa would achieve political liberation, but find itself economically weakened to the extent that the pie we would finally all share would be far too small to satisfy us. I could also not agree with the violence that had gripped our country in the name of an armed struggle. Rifts between Inkatha and the ANC-in-exile were becoming apparent and our paths diverged. We both sought liberation, but our means to get there were vastly different.

As a result of these differences, in 1979, Mr Oliver Tambo, the President of the ANC mission-in-exile, invited me to come to London. I attended with a delegation of Inkatha at the Excelsior Airport Hotel. We met for two and a half days and discussed the ANC strategy of imposing sanctions and disinvestment in South Africa. We as Inkatha, as I have already mentioned, could not agree to embrace the strategy of sanctions and disinvestment. And we also could not support the so-called "armed struggle".

While education across South Africa was disrupted and classrooms were burnt to the ground by protesting young people, schools in KwaZulu continued to function. A seasoned journalist recently asked me how schools in KwaZulu managed to start on time each morning, when chaos reigned everywhere else. I could only answer that Inkatha taught discipline, self-help and self-reliance long before it became fashionable. Although we received the least government funding of all the provinces, we continued to build and maintain schools, train teachers and educate children.

As the President of Inkatha, I opposed the slogan then being chanted elsewhere of "Liberation now, education later". I said "Education for liberation", because I know that knowledge is the best leverage against oppression. In the years that followed, the IFP lost many of its leaders and members in the low intensity civil war that gripped our country. Yet we continued to stand for non-violence and negotiations. The IFP believed that rather than writing our future in our people's blood, we could negotiate our way into a future which offered equality, liberty, dignity and opportunity for all.

When the then Government finally realised that apartheid was unsustainable, they approached me to negotiate such a future. It was another dangling carrot that I refused to take. I refused to negotiate until all political parties were unbanned and political prisoners, including Nelson Mandela, were released, and all exiles returned to South Africa. We could not negotiate a future in which we would all have a stake unless all the parties could come to the negotiating table. In all the years of his incarceration, I rallied under the banner of "Free Mandela". Even when it was illegal to do so, whenever I addressed meetings I quoted from his speeches. Mandela and I continually wrote to one another while he was in prison.

Sometimes history books lie. Sometimes they grossly mislead. When South Africa achieved liberation, the ANC took centre stage as the official liberators. Their propaganda machines worked overtime to announce the rule of a party that would bring "A Better Life For All". But the truth is that the liberation struggle was fought and won on many levels. The ANC fought it from outside our borders and fuelled a fire of violence that swept through South Africa, claiming many lives. The IFP fought apartheid from within, chiselling away at the foundations of an unjust system and forcing an unjust leadership to its knees. We were custodians of the future then, and we are custodians of the future today. This was a role which the leadership of the ANC such as Inkosi Albert Luthuli, Mr Oliver Tambo, Mr Nelson Mandela and others had persuaded me to play. To speak about what happened later, we had negotiations which resulted in this new democratic era in which we now are.

The reality is that, after 14 years of democracy, we still can't boast that a better life for all has been achieved. In some instances, we have gone backwards. Food prices are skyrocketing. Electricity supply is unstable. Fuel costs are exorbitant and rising fast. Criminality is rampant. Jobs are scarce. For many, houses are still unaffordable.

Education is not up to scratch. During the apartheid era, school children were exposed to intimidation and violence by the police. Today, school children experience intimidation and violence in their own classrooms from their own teachers and classmates. Gang activities, bullying, sexual abuse and harassment are common in schools today. It is almost as if the fight of yesterday has evolved into a beast with no name.

Yesterday, we called the beast apartheid. We could label it, identify it and fight hard against it. World leaders condemned it. Human rights activists damned it. Men, women and children died fighting it. But today, we can't name our enemy. It is pervasive and multi-faceted. Just when we think we have it pinned down, it shows another face, just as ugly as the first. I still can't believe that I could buy a newspaper last month and see a front page picture of a man being necklaced by a mob in a brutal act of xenophobia. Bar in my darkest nightmares, I have not seen that image for almost twenty years.  

I could not believe the image a few weeks ago of a little girl, weeping and bleeding and lost, running from the violence in her community. It reminded me of the image of Hector Pieterson, with his sister Antoinette running alongside him, weeping, bleeding and lost. Why is our past rising to haunt us again? Haven't we put these demons to bed? When the wave of xenophobic attacks started last month, the Reverend Moss Ntlha of the Evangelical Alliance of South Africa lamented: "When the poor who feel vulnerable to the ravages of poverty get so desperate that they take it out on our visitors, our house is not in order and we have somehow all failed."

These are heavy words for a Youth Day celebration. But they are words that must be spoken, because we have begun to forget what Youth Day is about and why we must remember the blood that has been shed in this country. We do it so that no more blood need blemish our soil. We do it so that we will remember the cost of our liberty and the value of our political enfranchisement. We fought and won the vote for a reason. We did it so that when elections come, we can use our vote to keep fighting for social justice, a moral society, stability, prosperity and dignity for all. 

Just because we cannot give our enemy one name does not mean that we shouldn't fight as one nation to overcome it. Perhaps we could call our enemy "degeneration", because it threatens to take us backwards in terms of economic growth, morality, health, welfare, education, security, employment, stability, unity and hope. Even when a Youth Day celebration moves from being a remembrance of our history to a day for drinking and partying; that is degeneration. And yet we are a nation in need of regeneration.

I am not saying this to be a stuck-in-the-mud. There is a time and place for partying. Fun and laughter are essential to our wellbeing. But there are also moments that we should take stock of the present and ask ourselves whether this is as good as it gets. And if it is not, how can we make it better? The answer is to get involved. This generation may not feel the same spirit of patriotism that drove my generation to become politically active. Today some people equate patriotism with sports matches or music. But that is just the surface.

What do you want to be when you are my age? Where do you want to be living? What do you want to be earning? Do you want to feel safe in your home and on your streets? Do you want your children to be well-educated global citizens? What do you want for your future? If we allow degeneration to continue, this generation will have much less to look forward to than my generation has now. And that makes no sense in a world that is moving forward and a country that is politically free.

You, the young people, need to become politically active and rally against degeneration in all its forms.

Often you hear leaders say we must fight HIV/Aids by making personal choices to abstain from sex before marriage, remain faithful to our partners and protect ourselves with condoms. But there is an additional way to fight Aids. You can fight it by supporting a political party that has proven its ability and will to lead the fight. The IFP challenged government to roll out Nevirapine across South Africa to prevent mother-to-child transmission of HIV. We even went to court. The IFP was the first to roll out anti-retrovirals across KwaZulu Natal.

However, the ANC led government is still slow to admit that Aids is a problem. One leader says there is no link between HIV and Aids. Another says you must eat garlic and beetroot. Another thinks that taking a shower after intercourse will wash away the virus! South Africa needs a political leadership that admits to the problem and proactively finds a way to fight it.

On every level, I can give examples of the IFP's leadership that has been leagues ahead of the standard sluggish bureaucracy that plagues our country. The difference between a leadership that grew up in exile and one that came of age in the trenches is that the latter has the experience to lead. The IFP has led South Africa's poorest communities to build schools at a time when government gave us next to nothing.

Today, no matter how flawed the education system gets, the IFP already knows how to offer leadership towards quality education. We need to give experience a chance to bring wisdom. 

As I address you today, I am aware that the IFP youth have an advantage that many other young people don't have. You have the advantage of a leadership that knows how to get us out of this mess. We know it will not be easy. We know it will not be quick. But if the IFP youth can mobilise other young people to become politically informed and politically active; to become part of the IFP family, we can turn the tide of degeneration into a wave of revival. When young people stand up for their rights, armed with the right information, even the smallest voices must be heard. The more voices we add, the louder our message will be.

I have said that history is continually being rewritten. I am sure that many of you will have heard of the controversial new history textbook that has been approved for grade twelve and is already being used. Last year, I approached the Minister of Education and pointed out that this text book is heavily biased and actually negatively portrays my role and the role of the IFP in the liberation struggle. It is not factual. It is subjective. It gives a cartoonist the same weight as a historian. It is misleading young minds and shaping opinions that are based on untruths.

I urged the Minister to remove this book from the list of approved text books. But to date, nothing has been done.

I must thank those of you who have rallied to condemn this book. As you continue to stand up for your right to the truth, your voices must be heard. I urge you to continue to oppose the use of propaganda in our schools.

In 1976, mere months before the Soweto tragedy, I spoke at a rally and warned of an imminent uprising. Today, I foresee another uprising-in-the-making. I sense there is a groundswell of young people who are willing to take the reins and redirect our country's course away from degeneration and towards prosperity. I cherish the idea that the IFP youth will be at the helm of this revival. We have mere months before the next elections. Let's mobilise people and give them the advantage that you already have; the advantage of an experienced IFP leadership. 

You have a voice; make it heard. You have a choice; choose wisely. It's your voice and your choice - let's secure our future. I am certain many of you wish to know whether there is any role you can play to secure the future. There is definitely an important role for our youth to ensure that they do have a secure future. It is quite simple. I plead with our youth not to be unmotivated to do something for themselves and their future. You now have the opportunity. It depends on what you decide to do.

I know that our youth feel that they are at the receiving end of most of the serious frustrations that we face, such as poverty, crime, unemployment and the lack of educational opportunities. But the future belongs to you. These frustrations must not frustrate you to the extent that you feel you can do nothing about them. As a matter of fact, there is a lot you can do to ensure that things change for the better for you and for future generations.  

When the founding fathers of our liberation struggled for generations to achieve freedom, they did so for us. Generation after generation did not taste the political freedom that we enjoy today. Most of you have today enjoyed the freedom which past generations achieved through blood, sweat and tears. But our liberation is still not complete. That is why we still need your voices. Your voices can only be heard if you do not allow the frustrations that still blight your lives to immobilise you.  

The vote you have was paid for very dearly, even with people's lives. It is for you to take the struggle to further heights. You can only do so if you exercise your vote. I appeal to you, and I mean all of you, to join us in advancing our cause. What you need to do is very simple. Each one of you must get an ID now, not next year. Each one of you needs to ensure that your branches are up and functioning. Each one of you must this year ensure that you have registered in the polling station where you will cast your vote. You need to go flat out helping each other to do these things.  

These are simple and straightforward things which you need to do if you want to have a voice about your future and that of generations that will come after you. I appeal to you now to ensure that you register now, this year, as Party agents, as our Party tends to request this important arrangement. When people cheat and fraudulent rigging takes place, people shout "Foul!" Shouting "foul" after it has happened is like crying over spilt milk. It does not help us to come and tell us that people cheated you or there was rigging if this is the result of your failure to ensure that the election is free and fair. 

Since 1994, when our freedom dawned, there has not been a single election in which some rigging and fraud has not taken place. It may not have happened on as large a scale as we have seen in some of our African countries, such as Nigeria, Kenya or Zimbabwe. All you can guarantee is that such shenanigans do not continue to take place during our own election next year.  

The election will not be fought and won next year. The election is being fought now in these few months before next year. Next year will already be too late. So it is either now or never that you make the important choice of whether you become part of our success or contribute to our failure. The choice is yours; and I mean each and every one of you. We must heed the warning of Wendell Philips that "the price of liberty is eternal vigilance". It is your voice and your choice - let's secure our future.

Contact: Jon Cayzer, 084 555 7144