Graphic novels and comic books have fought a brave battle to be recognised alongside mainstream literary works. Characters like the Flash, Halo Jones and Spider-Man have become part of regular pop culture and are now considered icons and objects of serious academic study, just as much as one might expect from classic figures like King Lear and Hamlet. Here’s an exploration of the illustrated South African multiverse, from the state propaganda machine to freedom of expression.

Fotoverhale – the much vilified precursor to television

There was a time when photo stories were sold from stands at the corner cafe. Television came late to South Africa, and not everybody was into reading the high-brow literature of the Sestigers. These photo stories were popular, but frowned upon in good homes. In Afrikaans, the Ruiter in swart series, Grensvegter and the macho Mark Condor catered for the action lovers, while dominee Dawid Wiehahn “cared for” those who were interested in “family matters” like extramarital affairs and naughty children. He was seen in the Verdwaalde harte­ series, a precursor to soap operas on television.

Tessa, though, was a girl of another kind. She pouted in the tiniest of bikinis, providing much-needed erotic interest to Afrikaans boys and their fathers during the times when tannies wore large hats to church every Sunday. Needless to say, the ooms read Tessa under the bedcovers while the tannies were out having koek en tee.

The propaganda machine

When it comes to the real history of comic books and graphic novels, there are a handful of events you might find most history summaries leave out – small historical inconveniences that people would rather forget ever happened. However, I thought it would make for a decent beginning.

DC Comics created one of the worst ideas in comic books circa 1986, when the Hemo-Goblin made his debut in New guardians #1. Unfortunately, you read the character’s name right the first time. In short – and there’s no way to sugarcoat this – the Hemo-Goblin was an HIV-positive vampire villain, which had supposedly been created by a mad South African scientist during the apartheid regime. What was meant to be social commentary on HIV/AIDS didn’t pan out well for the publishers, and the character was scrapped after a single issue.

Why is this important to the history of comic books in southern Africa? The apartheid government and its propaganda machine had created Afri-Comics (1971 to 1977), predating the above bad idea by several years. Afri-Comics was deliberately marketed to southern Africa’s black population, looking like the least racist thing you’d expect at first glance – until it becomes apparent that readers were encouraged to solve problems by being pro-authority.

Characters Mighty Man and Tiger Ingwe were black superheroes, but their kryptonite was apparently South African law – and in the seventies, I think everyone can guess that laws weren’t particularly inclusive, whether you were a superhero or not. According to UCLA, where the only scanned copies of Afri-Comics exist, the propaganda campaign introduced these superheroes to reduce potential conflict and mould public perception. Also according to UCLA, the campaign largely backfired when the audience became aware of the government’s influence. Newsstands and copies were burned, and Afri-Comics went into flames along with them. It’s not surprising that the government’s propaganda department was terrible at writing comic books.

Freedom of expression: Comic strips speak volumes

Strips, comic books and graphic novels achieve the same goal that you could attribute to classic writing: freedom of expression. Voltaire and King are studied for providing powerful social commentary and freedom of expression, whether they are liked or not (and sometimes also for a good story, yes). While many translated comic strips already existed, South African artistic talent and social commentary started to rise up in the nineties. Alongside civil rights activists, cartoonists and creators were allowed to speak their minds without interrogation (well, for the most part).

Madam & Eve (Stephen Francis and Rico Schacherl) made its first appearance in July 1992. The comic strip and later television show looks into the “average” South African household, and plays on current events and various (mis)understandings. Zapiro’s first collection, The Madiba years, appeared in 1996, bringing together biting sociopolitical commentary. Zapiro, as a familiar newspaper cartoonist, particularly embodies speaking one’s mind. (If you’re wondering, yes, there have been multiple “vs Zapiro” lawsuits through his career, but also several more books.) Idees vol vrees is a pun-filled joyride for Afrikaans readers, launched in 1999 by Kobus Galloway. I don’t think any article about comic book history would be complete without a mention of it. Galloway, of course, has such a familiar style that you can’t miss it.

If you’re already a fan of South African comic books, you’re probably wondering why I haven’t yet mentioned Bittercomix. This creation, by the pseudonymous Joe Dog and Konradski, delves into life with absolutely no shame or censorship. For anyone who isn’t familiar with its style, Bittercomix is somewhat like an Afrikaans version of Archer, but this only quite fits if you assume that its characters have been replaced by various caricatures of the average South African, as its cartoonists view them. The label “zef” might be the only one I could think of to apply to Bittercomix, whose creators have, in turn, called the song “Doos dronk” by Die Antwoord (featuring Jack Parow) what Bittercomix would be like in a song.

The ziggurat (2003) is one more notable mention for the graphic novel history books. It was created by the Constructus Corporation and released alongside their equally surreal album. Very few copies exist, and even the most hardened enthusiast probably hasn’t read it yet – it’s almost more of a legend than a comic at this point.

Graphic novels and comic books flourish

Graphic novels and comic books are flourishing in the current age, and are taken every bit as seriously as any other literature you could mention. The impact on popular culture is massive – whether you’ve seen DC or Marvel movies or not, you’re going to see their characters or catchphrases somewhere.

Creators are being taken seriously and are celebrated today. This effect doesn’t apply only to what’s been created abroad. Local artists and writers are in the perfect time to showcase their stories, and comic book fans have a lot to discover if they’re starting the journey only now. A notable mention are the Trantraal brothers, André and Nathan, whose graphic novels Stormkaap: Drome kom altyd andersom uit (2008) and Coloureds (2010) are going into history as some of the country’s best – no spoilers here, you’ll have to read them yourself. Good news, though: while the hard copies have become collector’s items, the Trantraal brothers have since made the latter available online as part of the International graphic novels series. The brothers also participated in Crossroads: I live where I like, authored by Koni Benson (2021).

Similarly, Richard Conyngham’s All rise: Resistance and rebellion in South Africa (2022), a historical novel co-created with numerous illustrators, has been lauded for the way it represents South African history. The international readership applauded the Catalyst Press edition. The book got a Kirkus Review for the Best YA Book of 2022, an Usbby 2023 for Outstanding International Book, the 2022 Foreword Indies Bronze Winner Award (Graphic Novels and Comics Category) and an honourable mention at the 2023 Children’s Africana Book Awards. It also was a 2022 VLA Graphic Novel Diversity Award Overfloweth honoree, and it was nominated for the TLA Maverick List. Sadly for South Africa, local publisher Jacana published only a relatively small number of copies due to the cost and might not reprint it, leaving us to import the Catalyst Press version.

These are serious works, but François Bloemhof released Agent Snoet en die botterdiamant in 2015, debuting the feline Felino alongside his slightly ditzy special agent owner. The character is well loved enough to become a series, living nine lives over several issues and later being collected into one longer volume. More importantly, Bloemhof was published by Lapa, an imprint belonging to the ATKV, an institution working towards uplifting the Afrikaans culture. Lapa used its muscle to market these novels to schools, dispelling the myth that comics ought not to be read by well-to-do folks.

Kwezi (2016), written by Loyiso Mkize (and illustrated by Clyde Beech), tells the story of a “city-dweller” who discovers that he has superhuman abilities. It’s a classic superhero story, blended with local elements and a quest. (Again, no spoilers!) The story of Kwezi continues and has spawned several issues since.

In 2018, the graphic novel Shaka rising: The legend of the warrior prince by Luke Molver blended the excellent historical research of Dan Wylie into Shaka as a figure fit for the comic book universe. The following year, King Shaka was published, completing the story. These two books shed a very different light on Shaka than did the apartheid government in their textbooks! In 2019, the graphic novel Young Nelson became the authorised Mandela comic.

If you’re only getting into the illustrated South African multiverse at this point, you’re going to enjoy where it’s headed. Have fun, strap in and take a moment to appreciate the freedom of expression that opens the road for new stories.

The entry of Triggerfish, the Cape Town-based animation studio which quietly renders large Disney movies, has stirred our graphic novels up a notch. In 2023, Catalyst Press published Pearl of the sea, a thick, glossy and gorgeous story of a young girl growing up on the South African West Coast. Shortly afterward, Catalyst also produced Triggerfish’s Kariba, about a young girl with superpowers who would be at home in any comic anywhere in the world. Buy them; these books are still available in our country at prices that belie the quality therein.

Lastly, just to understand how strips have become part of the mainstream, one should read Herzog Prize-winning author Ingrid Winterbach’s Onrus op Steynshoop. Not only do Winterbach’s characters show incredible insight into internationally known picture books, but they even create their own, thereby providing an additional story layer.

I cannot help thinking that the fictional dominee Dawid Wiehahn of Verdwaalde harte would have been happy to have modern-day congregants openly engaging with books that contain pictures!