by Marilyn Land
On 6 August 1945, the United States detonated an atomic bomb over the Japanese city of Hiroshima. President Harry S. Truman called again for Japan’s surrender, warning—expect a rain of ruin from the air, the like of which has never been seen on this earth.
On 9 August 1945, the United States dropped a second atomic bomb, this time on the Japanese city of Nagasaki.
Imperial Japan announced its surrender on 15 August 1945. Formally signed on 2 September 1945 brought the hostilities of World War II to an end.
The ideological framework for Bantu education had its origins in a manifesto crafted in1939 by Afrikaner nationalists. Based on the racist view that the education of blacks was the responsibility of whites, the document called for Christian National Education and advocated separate schools for each of South Africa’s population groups—whites, Africans, Indians, and Coloureds.
Segregated education disadvantaged all groups, but was particularly devastating for black Africans. The white government made it clear that Bantu education was designed to teach African learners to be hewers of wood and drawers of water for a white-run economy and society, regardless of an individual’s abilities and aspirations.
Education for blacks was left largely to Christian missions, whose resources, even when augmented by minimal government grants, enabled them to enroll only a small proportion of the black population. Missionaries did, however, run numerous schools, including some excellent high schools that took pupils through to the university level.
Missionaries were the dominant influence at the South African Native College at Fort Hare founded in 1916. It was the key institution of higher education for black Africans, offering a Western-style academic education to students from across sub-Saharan Africa, and created a black African elite who were frustrated by the fact that whites did not treat them as equals.
South African Native College alumni were part of many subsequent independence movements and governments of newly independent African countries.
Originally, Fort Hare was a British fort. Missionary activity led to the creation of a school for missionaries from which the college ultimately resulted at the beginning of the 20th century. In accordance with its Christian principles, fees were low and heavily subsidized, and scholarships were available for indigent students.
Several leading opponents of the African apartheid regime attended the College; among them Desmond Tutu, Oliver Tambo, and Nelson Mandela who later wrote in his biography—For young black South Africans like myself, it was Oxford and Cambridge, Harvard and Yale, all rolled into one.
The South African Native College at Fort Hare was located in Alice, Eastern Cape, South Africa. It was 925 km from Cape Town.
Ben made an appointment to meet with a fellow congregant at his synagogue who was a Professor at the University of Cape Town. Explaining his endeavor at finding a closer school for Afram, he asked if he could offer any suggestions or help.
Professor Abraham Morton relocated his family to South Africa from Austria in the mid 1930s. As a Professor at the University of Austria, he witnessed firsthand the initial edicts issued by Nazi Germany limiting education rights for Jews that included the rights of Jews to teach. He understood and sympathized with young black Africans who wanted a higher education.
“I am more than happy to help you, but you must understand that any help I’m able to offer you will be extremely limited.
“I’ve met the young man you speak for, and I also know his mother. She has taught English to many immigrant children and their parents who came here to escape the War in Europe.
“In South Africa, matriculation is a term commonly used to refer to the final year and the qualification received on graduating from high school, but basically it refers to the minimum university entrance requirements.
“Unfortunately as a black student, Afram cannot enroll in the University. I would like to speak with a few faculty members and see what I can do. I’m going to suggest that Afram be given the entrance exam to test his level of knowledge. From there, I will see if there is any way he can complete his courses on his own through textbooks, testing, and being allowed to attend lectures. Of course, any faculty support I can muster will be crucial.”
“I don’t know how to thank you. He is a special young man, and actually it was Franz Schiller who sought to help him. I’m just following up. I want to do this as much for Franz as he wanted to do this for Afram.”
Abe Morton was true to his word and got back to Ben less than a week later. He arranged for Afram to take the entrance exams at the school in private. On the day they were scheduled to take place, Abe drove to the University with Afram seated beside him. Although the drive was short, the conversation between them allowed Abe to get to know him better and learn what he envisioned for his future.
Abe had arranged for him to take the exam in his office. When they arrived at the school, everything was set up and awaited him. Abe left him and told him he would return at noon.
Afram had never taken such an exam before. There were three parts and each had separate instructions. He began Part 1 slowly but quickly picked up the pace; moving on to Part 2, he found himself answering question after question with ease; math was actually his best subject. Part 3 tested him on English and ended with his writing a short essay on what he expected from and how he expected to use his education.
He looked at the clock on the wall; it was just 11:00 a.m. Abe was not due to return until noon. He went over the exam again and remained satisfied with his responses. Along the wall opposite Abe’s desk was a bookcase filled with books.
He walked over and scanned the titles. One book in particular caught his attention—An African American in South Africa: The Travel Notes of Ralph J. Bunche, 28 September 1937-1 January 1938.
He removed the book from the shelf; on the cover was a picture of the author; on the back was a brief description of the book’s contents—Provides unique insights on a segregated society. He opened the book and began reading; he was halfway into the story by the time Abe returned.
When Abe entered his office, Afram stood. “I finished my exam early, and as I was looking at the books you have, this one caught my eye. I picked it up, and I began reading. I hope you don’t mind.”
Abe glanced at the book he was holding and smiled. “I don’t mind at all. In fact, if there are any others you would like to read, please feel free to borrow them. I assume you would like to take the book with you so that you can finish reading it.”
“Yes, I would. Thank you.”
“Well, how do you think you did on the exam? You said you completed it early and that’s a good sign. I am working with two and possibly three other professors to grade you, and we will then present you with a course of study that we can offer you here with an eye on the future to actually get you enrolled in a University where you can earn a degree.
“Meanwhile, I’d like you to take another book with you today; a book I think you will not only enjoy reading but will serve as an inspiration for your goals. This biography of Ralph Bunche shows that although he is only in his early 40s, his accomplishments are many.
“I need a few minutes to check my messages, and then we can leave for home. My colleagues and I will get back to you in a few days.”
“Thank you. I want you to know how much I appreciate all that you are doing for me. My mother has seen to it that I have had books to read since I was a little boy, instilling in me that reading is learning.”
Abe dropped Afram at home, promising to get in touch with him as soon as his exam results and their recommendations were in place.
While waiting to hear from Abe, Afram finished the book, enjoying it enough to suggest his mother read it. The biography of Ralph Johnson Bunche was a game changer; he began equating himself with certain aspects of his story. Although they were worlds apart—Bunche was born in Detroit, Michigan in the United States; he lost both
his parents during his early adolescence. As a result, he and his younger sister relocated to Los Angeles and were taken in by his maternal grandmother who became a major advocate for the education of her grandson.
The vast difference between the two was where they lived. The United States had many colleges and universities that accepted students of all backgrounds; South Africa’s higher education was primarily offered to whites though whites represented only twenty percent of the population.
Abe Morton had been correct in stating that the book could serve as an inspiration. From that day forward, Afram set his goal—to attend Howard University in Washington, D.C., United States of America—7,900 miles across the sea. He didn’t know how he would get there; he had no idea how long it would take to get there; but in his heart and head were his mother’s words—If you can dream it, you can achieve it; it’s up to you to make it happen.
To the surprise of no one, Afram aced his exam. When all arrangements had been made, Abe presented his recommendations to Afram, Jamilia, and Ben.
The essay he had written, and the results of the exam prompted more than one field of endeavor he could pursue.
Although he would be working at home, he would have access to the University’s library for research, and he would be allowed to attend lectures pertinent to his course of study. He would be graded on the same standard as enrolled students.
Abe had consulted with the South African Native College about accepting Afram as a student. He outlined a plan that would allow him to take courses under the auspices of the University of Cape Town that would satisfy the first two years’ requirements towards earning a degree in Political Science. At that time, Afram would physically attend the College in Alice. He cited the fact that it would be a hardship at present to leave his mother alone.
Before beginning his classes, Abe arranged for Afram, Jamilia, and Ben to join him on a visit to the school in Alice to meet the administrators and faculty he had spoken with.
The year was coming to an end. So much had happened. The War was over and around the world those who survived were left with picking up the pieces of their lives. Most simply wanted to get back to normal, but who really knew what normal was anymore. It would take a long time to heal emotionally, and so many bore scars that could never be erased.
On 2 September 1945, the Japanese envoys signed the instrument of Surrender on board the battleship USS Missouri. Although South African naval vessels were sent to the Far East, no Japanese military personnel set foot on African soil, and no South African military personnel was captured by the Japanese, consequently sparing them from the horrors of Japanese prisoner of war camps.
In relation to the role played by the Union in the overall Allied war effort during World War II, the Country’s direct contribution towards the struggle against Japan was not very extensive. It did, however, play an important role in keeping the Allies supplied in the East, and this role continued until the cessation of hostilities.
Though, the war against Japan did not affect local politics or social matters in South Africa to any great extent, it did contribute to the economic growth experienced during the war years.
However, South Africa after the War was presented with a mixture of concerns—concerns that would not be resolved for decades to come.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
As 1945 became 1946, Ben’s year began on a high note. He was quite pleased with the way things worked out for Afram and school. The three friends met for dinner often with the premise that he was checking to make certain that all was going well. In reality, he was lonely. For the first time in his life, he was truly alone. Sidney and Franz were gone. At work, there wasn’t much time to socialize especially when they were busy. Jamilia taught English to the immigrant children and Afram had his studies.
In mid-January, Ben received a long awaited letter from Jacob.
Dear Uncle Benjamin,
I was saddened to learn of Uncle Sidney’s passing. Although I only met both of you once on the occasion of my Bar Mitzvah, that visit proved to be a blessing allowing my father, you, and Sidney to be together one last time.
I apologize for not writing sooner, but when I left to join the RAF, I left many loose ends that caught up with me when I returned.
Marcus Hirsch tells me he has kept you apprised of my wellbeing, and I can never thank him enough for all he has done and continues to do for me.
The past few months since I was discharged have been busy to say the least. I had to find a place to live, sell the house in Middlesex (I just couldn’t see myself living there without my family), and decide what to do with myself for the rest of my life.
I am considering accepting a job with De Beers, but haven’t decided as yet. I’m planning to take my time and look into a few other options I am considering.
As promised, I do still plan to visit you in Cape Town; for now, however, I cannot in good conscience leave England so soon after returning. There are too many loose ends remaining, and I simply must attend to them as only I can.
You and I are the last two surviving Lyons, and I don’t want to lose touch with you. I look forward to long and in-depth conversations with you about what my father was like as a boy and how the three of you became so adept at producing a true thing of beauty—a cut and polished diamond.
Stay well, and please write. I will do the same.
Your loving Nephew,
Jacob
Ben was overcome with emotion as he folded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope. How could he have expected Jacob to leave everything and come to Cape Town so soon after returning home? Reading between the lines, it was evident he was still trying to come to terms with losing his entire family.
He sent a short note letting Jacob know that he had received his letter. He wished him well and told him that he looked forward to his visit, but advised him to take the time needed to prepare for the future.
By War’s end, Zeller Jewelers had been established in Cape Town for over forty years. From their meager beginning of a small amount of watches and rings, they had emerged as the premier jewelry shop in all of Cape Town. Their selection of jewelry, no matter the item, was unrivalled. The Annex in operation for just over twenty years had only added to their success.
De Beers continued to dominate every facet of the diamond industry for larger buyers. However, the many sources of uncut diamonds on a smaller scale that were once so plentiful were all but gone. There were now many gem cutters in the Cape Town area who had fled Antwerp and other European countries setting up small shops that gradually managed to siphon off some of the Annex clients.
The diamond cutting industry in Antwerp that was mainly run by Jews was virtually wiped out by Hitler’s persecution of the Jewish population in the German occupied territories during WWII. The industry never recovered from this huge blow and diamond-cutting centers began emerging elsewhere.
For the most part, Ben ran the day-to-day business of the Annex; his contact with the Zeller brothers was and had been for many years limited to once a month unless there were problems or questions to resolve. At the end of each month, they met for an overview of accounts, business, and profits. The brothers were quite pleased with Ben; he was quite pleased with them. They had afforded him the opportunity to do what he did best and loved the most, and he had learned a great deal in the process.
For their meeting the end of March, Paul suggested that they meet over lunch and dispense with going over the accounts. Ben was a bit surprised at his suggestion, but doing things differently every once in a while was good, was it not?
It was a clear sunny day and Ben enjoyed the walk to the restaurant. When he arrived, Paul and Phil awaited him. They ordered lunch, had drinks while they waited, and by the time coffee was brought to their table, Ben was convinced that this had been precisely what he thought—something different every once in a while.
Phil cleared his throat. “Ben, we suggested this venue for our meeting because we didn’t want to be overheard by anyone at the Annex. Paul and I have been doing a little soul searching and looking forward to the future.
“We have been here in Cape Town for over forty years and have been successful beyond our wildest imagination. We owe a good deal of that success to you and your management of the Annex.
“Times have changed dramatically, and although the War played a part, one cannot deny the fact that times change with or without war. We were fortunate that we set out to blaze a new trail when individuals could do just that by following their dreams. We see the future of the jewelry trade trending towards bigger and bigger entities.
“We are now in our seventies, and time seems to be catching up with us. We have no one to take over Zeller’s when we are gone. My daughters both live in England, and Paul and Rene have no children. Of late, we have been trying to decide if keeping the store and continuing on is the right course for us to take.
“Lena, of course, would prefer to move back to England to be with our daughters and their families, and I have to admit, I agree with her. Before we make any decisions—decisions that affect you and the people that work at the Annex, as well, we felt it necessary to discuss the situation with you.
“None of this is going to happen overnight. It will probably take months and possibly a couple of years or more. Our initial thoughts are to seek a buyer for the store. If you feel you would like to take over the Annex, we have no doubt that we could reach an agreement beneficial to both of us. If, however, you are not interested, we could seek a buyer or simply close it down. But, that too is months away. For now, it will be business as usual. Ben, Paul and I have long blessed the day you came into the shop seeking employment. As we have told you numerous times, it was a good fit for both of us.”
At first, Ben could not believe his ears. He had gone over and over many scenarios in his mind of how he would tell Paul and Phil Zeller he was leaving Cape Town. He owed them everything. They had provided him and Sidney with a good life, and he could easily equate with their desire to be with family. That’s what life was all about—family. The War had proven that over and over again.
