South African literature is the literature of South Africa, which has 11 national languages: Afrikaans, English, Zulu, Xhosa, Sotho, Pedi, Tswana, Venda, Swazi, Tsonga and Ndebele.

Elleke Boehmer (cf. Cullhed, 2006: 79) writes: "Nationalism, like patriarchy, favours singleness—one identity, one growth pattern, one birth and blood for all ... [and] will promote specifically unitary or 'one-eyed' forms of consciousness". The first problem any student of South African literature confronts is the diversity of literary systems. Gerrit Olivier notes, "While it is not unusual to hear academics and politicians talk about a 'South African literature', the situation at ground level is characterised by diversity and even fragmentation". Robert Mossman adds that "One of the enduring and saddest legacies of the apartheid system may be that no one – White, Black, Coloured (meaning of mixed-race in South Africa), or Asian – can ever speak as a 'South African'". The problem, however, pre-dates apartheid significantly, as South Africa is a country made up of communities that have always been linguistically and culturally diverse. These cultures have all retained some autonomy, making a compilation such as the controversial Southern African Literatures by Michael Chapman difficult. Chapman raises the question:

[W]hose language, culture, or story can be said to have authority in South Africa when the end of apartheid has raised challenging questions as to what it is to be a South African, what it is to live in, whether South Africa is mlg, and, if so, what its mythos is, what requires to be forgotten and what remembered as we scour the past in order to understand the present and seek a path forward into an unknown future.

South Africa has 11 national languages: Afrikaans, English, Zulu, Xhosa, Sotho, Pedi, Tswana, Venda, SiSwati, Tsonga, and Ndebele. Any definitive literary history of South Africa should, it could be argued, discuss literature produced in all 11 languages. But the only literature ever to adopt characteristics that can be said to be "national" is Afrikaans. Olivier argues: "Of all the literatures in South Africa, Afrikaans literature has been the only one to have become a national literature in the sense that it developed a clear image of itself as a separate entity, and that by way of institutional entrenchment through teaching, distribution, a review culture, journals, etc. it could ensure the continuation of that concept." Part of the problem is that English literature has been seen within the greater context of English writing in the world, and has, because of English's global position as ', not been seen as autonomous or indigenous to South Africa – in Olivier’s words: "English literature in South Africa continues to be a sort of extension of British or international English literature." The African languages, on the other hand, are spoken across the borders of Southern Africa - for example, Tswana is spoken in Botswana, Zimbabwe, and Lesotho. South Africa's borders were drawn by the British Empire and, as with all other colonies, were drawn without regard for the people living within them. Therefore, in the history of South African literature, should we include all Tswana writers, or only those with South African citizenship? Chapman bypasses this problem by including "Southern" African literatures.

The second problem with African languages is accessibility: because they are regional languages, none can claim a national readership comparable to Afrikaans and English. Sotho, for instance, while transgressing the national borders of the RSA, is, on the other hand, mainly spoken in the Free State and bears a strong relationship to the language of, for example, Zulu. Thus, the language cannot claim a national readership while, on the other hand, being "international" in the sense that it transcends national borders.

Olivier argues that "There is no obvious reason why it should be unhealthy or abnormal for different literatures to co-exist in one country, each possessing its own infrastructure and allowing theoreticians to develop impressive theories about polysystems". Yet political idealism proposing a unified "South Africa" (a remnant of the colonial British approach) has seeped into literary discourse and demands a unified national literature, which does not exist and has to be fabricated. It is unrealistic to ever think of South Africa and South African literature as homogeneous, now or in the near or distant future, since the only reason it is a country at all is the interference of European colonial powers. This is not a racial issue but rather concerns culture, heritage, and tradition (and, indeed, the constitution celebrates diversity). Instead, it seems more sensible to discuss South African literature as literature produced within the national borders by the different cultures and language groups inhabiting these borders. Otherwise, the danger is of emphasising one literary system at the expense of another, and, more often than not, the beneficiary is English, with African languages being ignored. The distinction between "black" and "white" literature is a remnant of colonialism that should be replaced by drawing distinctions between literary systems based on language affiliation rather than race.

Sources:

Pre-colonial Khoisan "literature" primarily existed as oral traditions, including narratives, myths, and stories, which were later transcribed and published by missionaries and scholars like Wilhelm Bleek in the 19th century, such as Reynard the Fox in South Africa. These oral accounts, passed down through generations, formed the basis of Khoisan culture and knowledge, with some examples, such as the story of the sisters and the Mantis, providing cultural and social explanations.