The lights dimmed. Couples skated purposefully onto the ice. And at the command of an unseen deejay, teenager lips touched in defiance of what even authorities here have grudgingly come to call “the Kissing Law”.
“The law to me is nothing. I don’t think it’s going to stop anyone,” said Bianca Secchia, 14, who participated in the demonstration on Saturday and shared another less-political smooch afterward with her boyfriend Attie Nortje, 17, at the darkened Northgate Ice Arena.
The protest on the northern suburban fringe of Johannesburg hardly amounted to a signal moment in South Africa’s storied history of liberation politics. Most of the two dozen young demonstrators settled for scattered group hugs that prosecutors would have struggled to deem criminal even under the new law, which made illegal any physical, romantic contact involving anyone under 16, regardless of consent.
But the controversy that news of the looming event generated — first on the social networking site Facebook, then in radio and newspaper report — led authorities to announce that they had no intention to arrest or prosecute violators of a law enacted just three weeks ago.
The law criminalised a broad range of adolescent behaviour, including mouth-to-mouth contact of any sort, or any other form of touching that could cause sexual arousal among those under 16.
The law, which authorities said was intended to make it easier to prosecute sexual liaisons between adult men and much-younger girls and assaults on the mentally disabled, made actual prosecutions of consensual encounters between similarly aged teenagers unlikely, requiring explicit approval from the country’s top prosecutor.
Yet news of the law triggered a powerful backlash among thousands of students armed with little more than computers, Facebook accounts and an acute sense of outrage at what they regarded as the clueless behaviour of repressive adults. Many teens also posted pictures of themselves in amorous, but largely PG-rated, exchanges.
“You should have the space and time to do that. We’re young. We need to experiment,” said Natalie Winston, 12, shortly before the protest here. “When you’re 21, you’re old already, and ugly.”
The organiser of the movement was Frances Murray, 14, an exuberant denizen of online-networking sites who has long dark hair, and wears black nail polish and braces. Shortly before Christmas, with just a few weeks to go before starting 10th grade under South Africa’s scholastic calendar, she learned about the law from a friend while chatting via instant messaging, she said.
“When I checked it out, I thought ‘OK, how am I going to go out and break this law?’ “ recalled Murray, who dreams of becoming a rock star or a political organiser.
After downloading a few news stories, Murray created a Facebook group called “Everybody Against The New Kissing Law”. The description of the group included information on the law’s effect and a passionate call to action: “Lets band together and stop this law!!!!! It’s takin away our freedom of choice and is against Our Human Rights.”
Murray said she messaged many of her friends, urging them to take up the cause. After one day, 166 people had joined the group. Then it was 664 on the second day, and she soon began suggesting in her postings a mass action of some sort.
As the New Year arrived, postings by other teens began calling for a month of public kissing demonstrations at malls across the nation, at noon of every Saturday in January. The membership in Murray’s group, meanwhile, is more than 14,000.
Assistant Police Commissioner Tertius Geldenhuys said that the reported demonstrations merited no special deployment plans and that officers would take complaints but not initiate action even if they came across necking 14-year-olds.
Yet at Northgate Ice Arena, redolent with the heady elixir of old socks and young love, the protesters girded themselves with brave words even as they began to have second thoughts about exactly how far they wanted to push a law they loathed.