Gina@ginnydmm
From the “Alternative Afrikaner”
“The Boy Who Crossed His Arms Twice
Max du Preez has a new book. The cover tells you everything the pages won't.
There is a photograph doing the rounds. Max du Preez, seventy-four years old, arms folded, jaw set, staring at the camera with the expression of a man who has just been told the wine bar is out of Pinotage. Next to him, the cover of his eleventh book, The End of Normal, featuring a photograph of a small boy, also with his arms folded, also looking cross. The subtitle reads: "Witness to the Unravelling of White Power in South Africa."
Two versions of the same man, seventy years apart, doing the same thing. Arms folded. Waiting for someone to be impressed.
Let me describe the face in that photo properly because I have been staring at it for five minutes and I still cannot decide what it is. It is not anger. Anger has energy. It is not defiance. Defiance has a target. It is the expression of a man who has been standing at a book launch for forty minutes and nobody has brought the canapes. It is the face of a cat that was promised tuna and received biscuits. It is the face that says "I will be signing copies between two and four, and you will queue."
The subtitle is doing a lot of heavy lifting. "Witness to the Unravelling of White Power." Not participant. Not analyst. Witness. Max watched white power unravel. From a front-row seat. With a wine list. And he has written eleven books about what he saw while he was watching from the seat he was watching from. The man is not a journalist. He is a dashcam.
Now, about this book. The End of Normal examines, according to the marketing copy, "how otherwise decent people came to implement and support an evil system like apartheid." It is published in May 2026, timed precisely to the peak of the Afrikaner refugee programme controversy, by Jonathan Ball Publishers, which is owned by NB Publishers, which is part of Media24, which is owned by Naspers.
For those keeping score, Max du Preez left Naspers in 1983 because it supported apartheid. He then spent forty-three years building an independent brand. His independent publication died three times. And now his book about the dangers of conformity is published by the media conglomerate he left because of conformity. The circle of life, except the lion ate itself.
The book warns about the rise of "a new Afrikaner nationalism." This is Max's latest concern. Not the old Afrikaner nationalism, which he has been writing about since the Bee Gees were charting. A new one. Fresh nationalism. He does not define it in any available interview, but the word "nationalism" does useful work because it makes literary festival audiences in Franschhoek shift uncomfortably in their seats, and uncomfortable seats buy hardcovers.
Here is what I find extraordinary. Max du Preez ran an Afrikaans-language publication aimed at progressive Afrikaners. It launched in 2019. Could not hold subscribers. Was rescued in 2022 by Andre Pienaar, a billionaire whose venture capital firm lists a former CIA European chief, the former director of GCHQ, and the former chairman of the US Joint Chiefs of Staff as "strategic partners." The publication then died again in March 2025 because not enough Afrikaners would pay to read it.
The man whose Afrikaans audience could not fill a subscription list is now writing a book warning about the dangerous power of Afrikaner nationalism. If this nationalism is so powerful, you would think at least six hundred of them could have maintained a monthly direct debit.
But the book is not for them. The book is for Jonathan Ball's English-language catalogue. For literary festivals in Cape Town and London. For BBC producers who need a pull quote. For NPR's booking team. For the exact audience that has been buying the exact same product since 1988. Apartheid was bad. Max was brave. Afrikaners are concerning. Repeat until royalties.