The Woven Webs of Fritz Joubert Duquesne: South Africa's Infamous WW2 Spy
Being a South African by birth, I am always intrigued by stories of Saffas who make it onto the international stage. The thrilling narrative of the life of Fritz Joubert Duquesne, a spy who also hailed from South Africa - was no exception. Although our shared nationality sparked my initial interest, the extraordinary and often mystifying life that Fritz lived quickly had me engrossed.
As I dived into Fritz's epic tales, I was genuinely awestruck by the extent of his adventures. From escapades during the Second Boer War (aka the South African War) to daring jailbreaks and everything in between, it was like reading the plot of a high-stakes thriller. But as I dug deeper into the information, my eyebrows lifted ever so slightly higher - it became increasingly clear that much of Fritz's life story was a masterful fabrication.
The further I researched, the more it seemed Fritz himself was the chief author of his larger-than-life legend. It's no surprise that the man who once stated, "A spy is born, not made" (I made this up - I'm pretty sure Fritz never said this...), had such an intricate web of falsehoods weaved around his life.
Perhaps one of the most emblematic examples of Fritz's self-mythologising tendencies lies in his biography, "The Man Who Killed Kitchener". This book was less an honest accounting of his life and more a calculated tool to magnify his persona and the mystique surrounding him. After all, who wouldn't be intrigued by a man who claims to have single-handedly assassinated one of Britain's most revered military figures? In truth, it is doubtful that he ever met Lord Kitchener.
But the fabrications of Fritz Duquesne's life didn't end with the audacious Kitchener claim. Oh no, there were more... many more.
The story surrounding his family and the destruction of their farm, the murder of his sister at the hands of the British and the internment of his mother in a Boer concentration camp are all highly suspect.
Then there was his time spent living in the USA pre-WW2, where he claimed to be a war hero, a big-game hunter (President Roosevelt's personal hunt leader no less), and a film director, among other professions, even though there's little evidence to support any of these claims.
Yet, in spite of these obvious exaggerations and possibly outright fabrications, Fritz Duquesne's life has a mesmerising allure to it. It's hard not to get swept up in his grandiose narratives, to picture him as the debonair rogue, always one step ahead of his pursuers.
Ironically, one of the more absurd stories from Fritz's life, the one involving hippo ranching, seems to be (mostly?) true...
By all accounts, it would seem that Fritz Duquesne's greatest skill may have been the ability to weave a compelling tale. Whether his life story was true or not seems to have been secondary. The Fritz Duquesne story is as much a tale of a spy as it is a masterclass in storytelling and personal myth-making.
But as I reflected on his life, I couldn't help but wonder... isn't that what a great spy should be? An enigma shrouded in layers of mystery and misdirection. If that's the case, perhaps Fritz Duquesne was more successful than we'll ever truly know.
PT.