Batswana are not Basotho

23/08/2025

In Serowe, the heartland of Bangwato, a historic moment approaches. On the 20th of September, the main kgotla will host a thanksgiving and appreciation ceremony in honor of Kgosi Sediegeng Kgamane, who carried the sacred mantle of regency for 34 years (1988–2022).

Through seasons of change and challenges, Kgosi Kgamane upheld the dignity of Bangwato ba GaKhama, serving as custodian of order, tradition, and unity. His stewardship ensured continuity of the royal house and safeguarded the legacy of the Bamangwato amid shifting tides of national and regional history.

This gathering is not merely a celebration—it is an ancestral salute to loyalty, service, and restraint, offered to a man who bore the weight of regency with unwavering discipline. The kgotla shall echo with voices of thanksgiving, recognizing an era that will forever be inscribed in the chronicles of Bangwato.

23/08/2025

Batswana, Never Be Shaken by Borrowed Voices

For many months, we have laid down evidence, not hearsay. We have shown writings of our own elders, and even the reluctant admissions of Europeans, who confirm that Basotho are a yesterday nation, a people carved from fragments of Batswana and Nguni sub-tribes who were gathered under Moshoeshoe during the violence of the Difaqane.

Yet, in every corner, their response is not proof, but insults. They claim Batswana are weak, that we fear war, that we are unworthy of royalty. But let us ask: what does true royalty look like? Is it found in bloodshed and random killing of innocents, or in the discipline of a people who preserve peace while holding the land of their fathers for centuries?

We Batswana do not slaughter our own for vanity. We do not thrive in chaos. Our strength is not in reckless violence, but in the sovereignty of botho, order, and continuity. That is why, when the dust of colonial wars and the Mfecane storms settled, it was Batswana who stood with two states – Bophuthatswana and Botswana – while also forming the spine of South Africa itself.

No Nguni nation has ever balanced such a scale of power across borders. That distinction belongs to us, the children of Tau, of Khama, of the sacred rivers and mountains that we still inhabit. Our leaders did not flee to caves and cliffs in fear. They fought, they negotiated, and they remained upon their soil — soil we still occupy today.

So let the Basotho speak with borrowed tongues, for their history is stitched together from fragments of others. Let them throw insults, for that is all they can muster. We, Batswana, stand upon our own ground, with our own name, our own lineages, and our own truth.

Do not be moved, Batswana. You are the inheritors of a sovereignty that existed long before a yesterday people sought to create themselves.
Hold to your truth. Guard your dignity. Our history does not tremble before borrowed existence.

Batswana ba ga Lowe.....Pula !

23/08/2025

22/08/2025

THE FORGOTTEN DEFENDER: ONTLAMETSE MENYATSOE AND THE BLOODSTAINED MARCH OF 1994

Mahikeng, March 11–12, 1994.

The sun rose on those days under a sky heavy with the stench of betrayal. The Barolong homeland—Mahikeng and its surrounding villages—was invaded by a heavily armed force of the Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging (AWB). What descended was not a battle but a slaughter.

They came in military trucks, with automatic rifles, machine guns, and arrogance, believing that the lives of Africans were expendable. They opened fire indiscriminately: men mowed down in the streets, women cut apart in their homes, children and the elderly left to bleed where they fell. The disabled were not spared; no innocence was sacred. Mahikeng, the royal capital of the Barolong, was turned into a killing field while the South African state and the so-called “international community” looked away.

But in the chaos of carnage, a single figure rose—unplanned, uncelebrated, and unarmed with power except for courage.

His name: Ontlametse Menyatsoe.

When others fled, he stood. When invaders pushed forward, he fought back. Without the backing of armies or governments, Ontlametse positioned his very body as a barricade between the AWB and the defenceless villages. It was his resistance that slowed the advance. It was his ferocity that saved lives otherwise destined for slaughter.

Yet history betrayed him.

In the aftermath of the massacre, instead of being elevated as a national hero, Ontlametse Menyatsoe was dragged before the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. There, he was forced to apologize—as though courage was a crime, as though defending one’s people was guilt. Meanwhile, the actual perpetrators of mass bloodshed, the AWB men with their hands soaked in the blood of Barolong, were granted amnesty, allowed to walk free, and embraced under the hollow banner of reconciliation.

The final insult to truth came when the post-apartheid government chose to immortalize the killers instead of the defender. In Mmabatho, not far from the former Parliament, Legislature, and High Court of Bophuthatswana, a monument was erected—not to the fallen Barolong, not to Ontlametse Menyatsoe, but to the AWB commandos who unleashed the massacre. Granite and steel were bent to enshrine betrayal, casting the memory of the killers as martyrs, while the true defender of the people was condemned to silence.

And so, thirty years later, the questions burn like open wounds:

Where is Ontlametse Menyatsoe today?

Why does his name not appear in our history books?

Why do the archives of South Africa’s “freedom” erase the one man who dared to stand against white terror in its last desperate hour?

This is not simply the story of a man—it is the story of how truth was buried, how a nation was forced to swallow lies, and how reconciliation was weaponized to erase justice.

Ontlametse Menyatsoe is more than a forgotten name. He is the measure of our betrayal, and the proof that history has been written not for the people, but against them. His name must be restored. His defiance must be taught. His monument must rise, not in stone laid by the hands of traitors, but in the voices of the people who refuse to forget.

History owes him. Justice owes him. Memory owes him. And we will not stop speaking his name until he is restored as the hero that he was.

22/08/2025

Tracing Our Roots: The Batswana Primacy and the Formation of Basotho Identity

The Batswana stand as one of Southern Africa’s most ancient and enduring civilizations, their origins reaching deep into pre-colonial history, predating the arrival of European ethnographers and formalized records. The very terminology—“Batswana,” “Motswana,” “Tswana”—emerged centuries before Moshoeshoe’s consolidation, reflecting a sociopolitical identity inseparable from the riverine landscapes, mountains, and sacred sites where Batswana lineages anchored themselves. Among the most significant are the Bakwena ba ga Napo, whose genealogy traces back to Motshodi, establishing migration pathways that lead unmistakably into modern Botswana, affirming the region as the ancestral cradle of Batswana polities.

The Basotho nation, by contrast, is a 19th-century political construct, forged from the crucible of Difaqane displacement and frontier upheavals. Its architect, Moshoeshoe I (b. 1786, Menkhoaneng), drew heavily upon pre-existing Batswana structures—political consultation via the kgotla, military organization through age-set regiments (mephato), and sacred governance guided by dingaka and rainmakers. Moshoeshoe’s lineage itself, descending from the Bakwena ba ga Mokotedi, was a direct extension of Batswana royalty, situating him firmly within the elder nation’s ancestral continuum. The Basotho federation incorporated clans fleeing Difaqane violence, a substantial proportion of which were Batswana, supplemented by Nguni groups and other displaced peoples—a deliberate synthesis that created a new national identity atop the bedrock of Batswana civilization.

Batswana sovereignty, however, extends far beyond the 19th century. Legendary rulers such as Mogale a Mankapane and Malope a Masilo exercised authority over vast territories, administering sacred rites, adjudicating disputes, and maintaining centralized military oversight before the Barolong-Batlhaping cluster—including Bakaa, Bangologa, Banongmpe, Bashaga, and Bakgwatlheng—segregated into independent chiefdoms. The fragmentation of Barolong following Kgosi Tau’s death in 1670 demonstrates both the depth of political sophistication and the resilience of ancestral systems, as the Ratlou, Ratshidi, Seleka, and Rapulana lineages preserved the continuity of law, spiritual authority, and defense mechanisms across generations. These lineages, and their descendants, constitute living monuments to Batswana primacy.

The military, social, and spiritual frameworks inherited and adapted by Moshoeshoe reflect direct Batswana influence: his fortress at Thaba Bosiu functioned as a strategic citadel in the age-old Batswana tradition of fortified settlements; his regiments were organized according to the age-set model, ensuring rapid mobilization and cohesive defense; and spiritual counsel from dingaka reinforced both morale and communal cohesion. This synthesis demonstrates that the Basotho nation, while innovative in 19th-century circumstances, cannot claim pre-existing antiquity, but rather is a younger polity built upon the seniority of Batswana civilization.

Thus, the historical record is unequivocal: Batswana are the elder nation, the source from which the Basotho derived their royal lineage, political structures, and spiritual practices. Basotho identity, while significant and sovereign in its own right, is a derivative formation, shaped by displacement, federation, and Moshoeshoe’s strategic genius—yet always anchored to Batswana precedent. Recognizing this truth is not a question of rivalry, but of historical fidelity, cultural reverence, and the preservation of ancestral memory.

Batswana are not Basotho. Batswana are the source. Basotho are the younger federation. The river of history flows from Batswana. Let this knowledge endure in perpetuity.

21/08/2025

His Excellency Sheikh Mansour Bin Jabor Bin Jassim Al Thani, a distinguished scion of the Qatari ruling family, who leads a high-level delegation to the Republic of Botswana. Their presence underscores a profound interest in strategic collaboration and signals the potential for transformative bilateral engagements across multiple sectors of our economy, with particular emphasis on infrastructure, industrial development, and investment-led growth.

Over the course of the visit, the delegation will undertake comprehensive consultations with government ministries, state-owned enterprises, and the nation’s leading business stakeholders. The objective is to establish a framework agreement that will serve as the foundation for sustained, high-impact investments, advancing Botswana’s development trajectory while strengthening diplomatic and economic bonds with the State of Qatar.

This partnership embodies mutual vision, strategic foresight, and long-term economic resilience. Further communiqués will provide detailed updates as engagements progress and concrete agreements crystallize.

🇧🇼 🇶🇦

21/08/2025

Happy 86th Birthday to the 3rd President of Botswana His Excellency, the former President Festus Gontebanye Mogae.

What is your memory of Mogae's Presidency?

21/08/2025

The Fragmentation of Barolong Kingdom👑

In the chronicles of Batswana sovereignty, the year 1670 is etched as a moment of profound transformation. It marks the passing of Kgosi Tau, the illustrious unifier of the Barolong, whose reign had forged cohesion, military discipline, and spiritual continuity across disparate clans. Under his leadership, the Barolong consolidated their dominion along the fertile plains of the Molopo and Vaal rivers, establishing fortified settlements, regulating cattle systems as both wealth and political currency, and maintaining sacred rituals that bound people to their ancestral landscapes.

Kgosi Tau’s passing precipitated a succession crisis that irrevocably altered the Barolong political landscape. His sons—Ratlou, Tshidi (Ratshidi), Seleka, and Rapulana—each assumed independent authority over segmented territories, forming the Ratlou, Ratshidi, Seleka, and Rapulana lineages. This division was not mere familial dispute; it was the manifestation of a deliberate decentralization of power, as each heir carved out autonomous jurisdictions, overseeing distinct kgotla (assemblies), military regiments, and spiritual rites. The once unified mephato system, structured by age sets for both training and defense, became compartmentalized across these new polities.

The fragmentation also carried strategic military consequences. Each chiefdom now fortified its borders, monitored river crossings, and maintained rapid-response regiments to counter raids from neighboring groups and external aggressors. Sacred rituals, guided by dingaka, were invoked to ensure protection and cohesion, blending spiritual authority with martial readiness—a hallmark of Batswana governance and resilience.

Despite political decentralization, the legacy of Kgosi Tau persisted. The Ratlou maintained dominion over the western Molopo, the Ratshidi extended influence toward the Vryburg plains, the Seleka commanded the eastern territories adjacent to the Limpopo tributaries, and the Rapulana preserved cohesion in the southern districts. Each lineage carried the ancestral authority of Tau, ensuring continuity of law, sacred rites, and military discipline. These chiefdoms collectively preserved Batswana sovereignty across centuries, resisting external impositions, and forming the foundational matrix from which later Batswana polities would emerge.

This episode underscores a critical historical truth: Batswana antiquity predates the formation of 19th-century polities such as the Basotho, whose consolidation under Moshoeshoe I relied upon the incorporation of displaced clans, including many of Batswana origin. While Moshoeshoe demonstrated exceptional leadership in creating a new political identity amid the turbulence of the Difaqane, the roots of his governance and the military systems he employed were deeply embedded in pre-existing Batswana traditions—age-set regiments, pitso assemblies, and sacred ancestral consultation.

As custodians of this knowledge, it is our duty to preserve the memory of Kgosi Tau and his descendants with dignity, precision, and reverence. The Ratlou, Ratshidi, Seleka, and Rapulana lineages are not merely historical footnotes—they are living monuments of Batswana continuity, exemplars of strategic foresight, ancestral stewardship, and the enduring primacy of our nation.

20/08/2025

QUEENS OF BATSWANA:THE LEGACY OF ROYAL WOMEN

In the sweeping accounts of Batswana history, kings, warriors, and dikgosi are often foregrounded. Yet absent from many official records and scholarly texts are the formidable women who ruled, led, defended, and shaped the trajectory of our people. These were not passive figures—they were strategists, political anchors, and matriarchs of dynasties whose names have been silenced by colonial erasure and internal patriarchal revision.

Today, we honour the memory of those queens whose legacies remain embedded in the ancestral soil and oral records of our people.

1. Queen Mantatisi – Commander of the Batlokwa

As the regent of the Batlokwa in the early 19th century, Mantatisi emerged during the period of regional upheaval known as Difaqane. She led an estimated 40,000 warriors through present-day Free State and beyond. European settlers, rival clans, and missionaries documented her with both fear and fascination—proof of her tactical brilliance and authority. She remains one of the few African women to have commanded a standing army of that scale.

2. Mma Sechele – Political Strategist and Advisor

Behind the reign of Kgosi Sechele I of the Bakwena stood a politically astute queen consort. Mma Sechele, though less known in academic writing, is referenced in oral histories as a key influence in diplomatic decisions, alliance-building, and even internal kingdom dynamics. Her presence reflected the power of the queen not as decoration, but as deliberator and guardian of national cohesion.

3. Queen Gagoangwe – The Iron Matriarch of the Bangwaketse

Regent and mother to Kgosi Bathoen I, Gagoangwe presided over a critical period in Bangwaketse statecraft. She quelled internal dissent, executed high-level conspirators, and maintained sovereignty in the face of growing colonial pressure. She wielded judicial and executive powers with clarity, reinforcing the political agency of women in precolonial governance.

4. Mma Kgosi Moremi – Defender of the Okavango

Serving as regent of the Batawana, Mma Moremi is remembered for her assertive leadership during British imperial expansion. Oral records from the Ngamiland region attest to her firm rejection of exploitative land treaties. She ensured the preservation of the ecological and cultural sanctity of the Okavango Delta—long before the idea of conservation became fashionable. Her regency was a rare demonstration of indigenous environmental and political resistance led by a woman.

Missionary writings often excluded or diminished the role of royal women.
In some cases, local power dynamics and succession struggles erased their legacies to solidify new male-led orders.

Reclaiming Historical Balance
The narrative of Batswana is incomplete without its queens. Their authority was not secondary; it was sovereign. Their leadership was not ceremonial; it was strategic. Their stories deserve equal reverence in the canon of our history.
As we continue the work of restoring our full historical archive, let us remember: the spirit of these women was not buried—it was merely silenced.

Have you heard of other Batswana queens whose stories remain untold? Your contribution can help restore what was taken.
Let the work of historical restoration begin.

20/08/2025

20/08/2025

Hugh Ashton — The Basuto: A Social Study of Traditional and Modern Lesotho

In 1952, the eminent anthropologist Hugh Ashton published The Basuto: A Social Study of Traditional and Modern Lesotho, a work often celebrated as the definitive account of Moshoeshoe’s consolidation of power in the 19th century. Yet, when read with sober academic eyes and historical discernment, Ashton’s analysis reveals a reality that colonial ethnographers did not intend to make too visible: that the Basuto were not an ancient, pre-existing nation, but a nationality consolidated only under the political genius of Moshoeshoe.

Ashton examines the structures of bogosi, the hierarchies of chieftaincy, the institution of the pitso, the politics of cattle, and the organization of military regiments (mephato). In doing so, he shows that the Basuto nation did not exist prior to Moshoeshoe’s federation of scattered lineages. These were communities—displaced, fragmented, and drawn together amidst the upheavals of the early 19th century—whom Moshoeshoe united into a political body later known as the “Basuto nation.” Unlike the ancient Batswana, whose royal houses (dikgosi tsa Batswana) stretch back many centuries with deep ancestral lineages tied to rivers, mountains, and sacred landscapes, the Basuto emerge historically as a 19th-century construction.

Here lies the crux of the matter: Moshoeshoe himself was no stranger to Batswana royalty. Born at Menkhoaneng around 1786, Moshoeshoe was a grandson of Peete, of the Bakwena royal house. The Bakwena, one of the most senior and sacred Batswana houses, had long established royal authority, ancestral rites, and military systems before Moshoeshoe was even born. His leadership was therefore not the creation of an isolated “Basuto genius,” but the extension of an older Setswana royal tradition into new territory. The Basuto polity was forged from the bones of Batswana sovereignty.

The great upheavals of the Difaqane/Mfecane wars in the early 1800s provided the crucible. In 1823, Moshoeshoe established his fortress at Thaba Bosiu, the “Mountain at Night,” as a strategic refuge against raiders. It was here that the regiments he organized, informed by Batswana patterns of age-set military systems, repelled repeated invasions—from Ndebele impis under Mzilikazi, from the Batlokoa under Mantatisi, and from colonial commandos advancing from the Cape. Each battle was not merely a test of arms but of ancestral protection. The dingaka of Moshoeshoe, like the rainmakers and diviners of Batswana tradition, invoked the spirits of the land and fortified the regiments with medicines of courage and unity.

Ashton underscores that the pitso—the great national assembly—was the crucible of Moshoeshoe’s authority. Yet the pitso itself was not an invention of the Basuto; it was inherited from older Tswana political culture, where consultation under the kgotla was the pillar of governance. Even the cattle politics Ashton describes—cattle as wealth, as tribute, as the currency of alliance—are rooted in ancient Batswana systems, centuries older than the 19th-century Basuto consolidation.

Thus, the record is clear. The Basuto nation is a modern federation born in the fires of 19th-century displacement and warfare. The Batswana, by contrast, are an ancient people whose royal houses predate the rise of Moshoeshoe by many generations. To claim Basuto antiquity over Batswana is to reverse the river’s flow, to place the branch above the root. Moshoeshoe was a son of the Bakwena, carrying forth Batswana royal tradition in new circumstances, and uniting peoples under the name “Basuto.”

In the words of Hugh Ashton’s 1952 study—unwittingly but unmistakably—the Basuto emerge as a constructed nationality, while the Batswana stand as the elder nation of the southern continent. Let this truth be preserved with dignity and reverence, not as rivalry, but as the rightful ordering of history. For to honor the ancestors is to speak without distortion: the Batswana are the elder nation; the Basuto are their younger formation, born of Moshoeshoe’s Bakwena bloodline and the trials of the 19th century.

Batswana Are Not Basotho. Batswana Are the Source.