by Alan Paton
. . . I agree with you that we took too long to increase the subsidy. I visited Johannesburg three times during the boycott, and found travelling along Louis Botha Avenue very painful. I tell you in confidence, my dear aunt, that governments often react foolishly and childishly to anything they construe as a threat or as an attempt to intimidate them. This is what has happened in this case. My own Minister is inclined to take the whole boycott as a personal affront.
I did not play sick on the occasion of the graduation ceremony. I hooded Dr. Fischer LL.D. and shook his hand. He then delivered the graduation address. You will be interested to know that he had quite a lot to say about the Loeriestad affair. He used the argument that one was here dealing with two apparently absolute goods and that one could not have them both. That was the complexity of life, and life was the work of the Creator and we could not criticise it or try to oversimplify it. The one good was that the employees of a good employer should be allowed to attend his funeral and pay their last respects to him. The other good was the separation of the races, and their separate development in every sphere, in the home, the school, the university, the church. All true Afrikaners believed that this was the will, and one might say, the wish of God.
He quoted Professor Geoffrey Cronje, whom he regarded as one of the great prophets of Afrikanerdom:
‘The racial policy which we as Afrikaners should promote must be directed to the preservation of racial and cultural variety. This is because it is according to the Will of God, and also because with the knowledge at our disposal it can be justified on practical grounds.’
He also quoted Dr. P. J. Meyer, whom he also regarded as one of our prophets:
‘The Gospel is not directed to the human being as an absolutely autonomous and isolated entity, but to the human being as creature and therefore as a member of a specific nation . . . Not only the individual, but also the nation, as part of the Creation, has been called by God . . . The Afrikaner accepts his national task as a divine task, in which his individual life-task, and his personal service to God has been absorbed in a wider, organic context.’
I must admit that Dr. Fischer developed his theme with that professional skill for which he is famous. I do not know if something is wrong with me, for although I accept his view of the divine calling of Afrikanerdom, and his conviction that the Afrikaner was planted in South Africa for a divine purpose, he does not inspire me. He dealt with these great themes in a way that to me was intellectual and cold. Therefore when he argued that, seen in the light of these eternal verities, the incident at Loeriestad was not a matter of tremendous consequence, and certainly not fitted to become an item of news to be flashed across the world, he did not convince me. Perhaps that is because my mother, and you my dearest aunt, could never bear to see a fellow being, of whatever race or colour, humiliated as these coloured folk were humiliated at Loeriestad.
I should not omit to say that Dr. Fischer received a very laudatory citation. The orator said that it was the university that was honouring itself by honouring him. He was one of the most distinguished lay sons of the Church. His career in the law had been one of outstanding achievement, and he was regarded as one of the most brilliant sons of the university. But it was as a son of Afrikanerdom that he was most cherished, and one of the most revered of Afrikaner theologians had called him ‘God’s gift to the nation’. ‘Mr. Chancellor, sir, I present to you for the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws, Dr. Louis Woltemade Fischer, churchman, lawyer and patriot.’
You must admit that it went a bit far. I give you my opinion confidentially that the Minister doesn’t like all this. There is a joke going round and I don’t know if he has heard it, but if he did hear it he wouldn’t like it. It goes: ‘Oh, the Palace of Justice? Isn’t that the place where Dr. Fischer works?’
The Prime Minister did not answer the letter from the bishops of the Church of the Province. He sent it to the Minister of Native Affairs, who didn’t answer it either. He gave the job to his private secretary, who wrote that the Minister regretted that the bishops should threaten disobedience to the laws of the land without waiting for the second-reading debate to see ‘how the clause is to be redrafted to eliminate all possibility of suspicion and misunderstanding’.
In Parliament Dr. Hendrik announced amendments that would eliminate all suspicion. The most important of all was that if the law were disobeyed, it would be the African worshipper, not the church, who would be guilty of an offence. He condemned those people in Pietermaritzburg and Durban who founded international clubs. He condemned the Liberal Party, and said that its activities compelled Parliament to take steps.
The Minister made no attempt to conceal his loathing of interracial association. He said:
‘We find that there are whites who take pleasure in arranging special social gatherings where whites and non-whites mix freely, not because they feel the need for contact but because they like to demonstrate . . . They even throw open the doors and windows so that everyone can see what is going on. They allow whites and non-whites to lean out of the windows to annoy the neighbours. That is what has been happening . . . There are, for instance, areas where nobody in the whole neighbourhood would think of doing such things, except for one liberalist who does them deliberately.’
On 24 April 1957 the Bill became law. On 14 July letters were read in all Anglican churches in South Africa. These letters contained these words:
‘Before God and with you as my witnesses, I solemnly state that not only shall I not obey any direction of the Minister of Native Affairs in this regard, but I solemnly counsel you, both clergy and people, to do likewise.’
This was followed by similar declarations from most of the English-speaking churches. The Pietermaritzburg and Durban international clubs closed down rather than seek ministerial permission to continue, a permission that would not have been granted. The Institute of Race Relations, the Liberal Party, the National Union of Students, decided to continue as usual.
A fascinating interlude was provided when the white NGK congregation at Pinelands invited an African minister to occupy their pulpit. Die Kerkbode, the national periodical of the NGK, assured its readers that this was not a demonstration against Clause 29(c). It explained the whole situation, making telling use of italicisation.
‘It is an exception that will occur very seldom in our Church, but which however is also again completely natural in the light of the spiritual bonds that exist between us and Bantu Christians. Our church policy is not undermined by this, nor renounced, not even changed, but rather refined to stand out in its spiritual light and clarity.’
Dr. Hendrik made it abundantly clear that he had not reworded the clause because of the Archbishop’s letter, but because of the decorous and Christian representations made to him by those who would never stoop to deliver attacks which were ‘distorted and unreasonable’. This was the only time in Dr. Hendrik’s career that he had been known to bow to the wind. The church clause was seldom if ever invoked. It was a retreat disguised as a victory.
Mr. Robert Mansfield
Natal Chairman
Liberal Party
So you decided to close down your International Club, eh? You didn’t have the guts to stand up for your principles. I’m disappointed in you, Robert.
Where are your Portugooses going to read in the dark with their black dollies now, eh? You know what they read in the dark, don’t you, those books with the fuzzy hair, eh? You disgust me, with your Christian talk, playing poker with the black dollies.
I would never belong to any international club, but if I did, I’d stand up for it, I wouldn’t come running like a dog just because a Minister blows his whistle.
Wouldn’t you like to know my name, Robert? Wouldn’t you like to know what I look like? but you won’t. I wouldn’t have your hands on me, not the hand of a man who paws his own daughter.
I sign myself
Proud White Christian Woman
Mr. Robert Mansfield
Natal Reg
ional Office
The Liberal Party
You were fortunate to discover the defect in your brakes on a reasonably safe stretch of road. We warned you that a few locks here and there would not be enough protection. You clearly do not take our warnings seriously.
We read, however, that you have decided to close down your International Club. Does that mean that you are becoming amenable to reason? It may interest you to know that our committee takes some credit for the closing down of the club. We supplied the Minister with full details of your activities, all of which are contrary to the doctrines and policies of racial separation.
Our committee is, however, dissatisfied with your performance. We have come to the conclusion that you do not intend to dissociate yourself from the Liberal Party. We therefore wish to warn you again that we are planning to take more serious action against you. This would be taken some time in the next few weeks. This would give you an opportunity to take action yourself, of the kind that we suggested to you in our first letter.
We sign ourselves
The Preservation of White South Africa League
– Good morning.
– Good morning.
– I am glad to see you.
– You can be glad. I cannot stop you.
– You are still beautiful.
He could see again that slight sign of pleasure. But it was not unalloyed. He could see conflicting emotions, fear perhaps, pride too perhaps, that would not yield easily to a stranger.
– When shall I see you?
– Why should I see you?
– Because I love you.
– That’s a big thing.
She said to him with sudden vigour.
– I have told you before, I am dangerous to you, you are dangerous to me.
– Yes, I know that, but I want to see you.
– Where?
– In the park.
– That’s a big thing. I must think about it.
– Not too long. Will you tell me next Monday?
– Perhaps next Monday. Please leave me now. Now, now.
She spoke so urgently that he left her. For a moment he felt that he ought to draw back, that the whole thing was indeed dangerous. But the feeling lasted only for a moment. She was too beautiful for him to draw back. He made a click of annoyance with his tongue and teeth. He had forgotten to ask for her name.
NALA is going from strength to strength. That is due to the determination of the black landowners to keep their rightful land, and the organising skill and vigour of Emmanuel Nene of the big hat and the riding-breeches. Though he is still a young man, he enjoys the confidence of the landowners, some of whom are white-haired and venerable. He also enjoys the close attention of the Security Police, who turn up at every branch meeting of NALA. They sit at the back of the humble halls where the meetings are held, usually schoolrooms in those few schools that are not yet controlled by Dr. Hendrik and his Department of Bantu Education, or church buildings. They make notes of all the speeches, which are of the very essence of law-abidingness, but which one and all condemn the law which empowers the Minister to take away their land. They photograph all the speakers and a good many of the listeners too, moving about noisily and arrogantly while the meeting is in progress. One of their favourite ploys is to station themselves and their apparatus in front of the speaker so that he cannot see his audience and they cannot see him. If he moves, then they move too. And what can he do? This is the power of the State, and the State is white and he is black. But if Philip Drummond is there he will give them five minutes to take all their photographs, after which they must resume their seats at the back. Otherwise he will have to report to their commanding officer in Pietermaritzburg.
After the meeting is over, the police visit the authorities who have lent the schoolroom or the church. Does the reverend gentleman want a visit from the government building inspectors, who will condemn his church building or his schoolroom as dangerous for human occupation?
– It will cost a lot of money to build a new church, reverend. We advise you, reverend, not to lend your church to subversive organisations like the Natal African Landowners Association.
And now for Bantu female Dorcas Hlophe.
– Do we understand, Dorcas, that this man Nene slept in your house on the occasion of his last visit? We advise you, Dorcas, not to do this again. You have a motor car, do you not? Bought in 1937? It could be stopped on the road by the transport police, and taken to Estcourt for examination. It might cost a lot of money, Dorcas, to have your certificate of roadworthiness renewed. Sometimes they don’t renew the certificate at all. They just order you to take the car off the road.
– Philip, my car is looked after by Gasa. Everyone knows he is a first-class mechanic. He says the car is in good condition. What shall I do if they take it to Estcourt?
– You must go with it. You must not let it out of your sight. When you get to Estcourt you ask to see Mr. Wainwright. You tell Mr. Wainwright that Philip Drummond asks him to keep a special eye on your car. He will do it.
However, not every official has been to school with Philip Drummond. Up here at Drayton Moor, old Mrs. Mbele has been visited by the Security Police. Her son Lucas is a member of the Liberal Party in Pietermaritzburg. His mother has been told to warn him to get out of the party, otherwise he may be banned under the Suppression of Communism Act and ordered to be confined to the area of Drayton Moor. In Pietermaritzburg he has a good job at good wages, and he is a good son to his mother. But at Drayton Moor there is no work at all. If the Security Police so decided, he could live the rest of his life here in this desolate place, one of the least favoured of all the blackspots. For it was too heavily subdivided, and carries the largest population of them all. Through its once-fertile fields run ugly dongas which in places are ten feet deep. Rain is not a blessing here, but something to be feared. The dongas become red rushing rivers, carrying the precious soil to the sea.
Emmanuel Nene had a good meeting at Drayton Moor. It was held in the Holy Church of Zion, minister the Reverend Zachariah Nyembe. There were two hundred people at the meeting, and six policemen, three white and three black, who took many photographs. It is a sight to see, men and women coming over the veld from every point of the compass, and waiting for them, leaning against their cars, the six policemen, who have been trained to frighten people by the intensity of their stares, eyes which will remember every face, ears which will remember every word, till that day of reckoning when every subversive person will have been utterly destroyed, when every enemy of the Great Plan will have been converted or silenced for ever. If these men and women of Drayton Moor are frightened, they do not show it. They do not laugh or joke, for the might and power and glory of the State is not to be laughed away. They go quietly into the church, some of them kneel for a moment as they enter, for this is the building of the Lord. Some of the young people are now saying that he is a white Lord, and that no black man or woman with any pride should worship him, and that the white man gave the black man the Bible with one hand and took his land away with the other. Some of the young people are saying that all white men are the same, even people like Philip Drummond and Robert Mansfield and Patrick Duncan, and this grieves their elders, coming here in their black suits and their best dresses, to protest against the rape of their land.
Dr. Edward Roos, professor of Biology, the aging professor as he calls himself, has come from Johannesburg to encourage the landowners to persist in their fight for their land. When he sees an old woman go down on her knees to pray, no doubt for the blessing of God on their cause, he gets that lump in the throat that troubles him from time to time, hardened rationalist though he is. Emmanuel also encourages the landowners. It is very hard not to be encouraged by him.
Emmanuel tells the people about the great meeting of affirmation and prayer that is to be held by NALA at Roosboom, the blackspot near Ladysmith. The rumour is that Roosboom will be the next to go; also it is in a central position, and that is why th
e meeting will be held there. It is hoped that all the blackspots of Natal will send as many people to the meeting as possible, so that the voice of black landowners will be heard by the Government. His speech is punctuated by cries of approval and clapping. A black man jumps to his feet and cries out, shaking his fist in the air,
– Yes, we will make them listen to us.
The police photograph him immediately, for that day when Nemesis will overtake him, and he cries out at them,
– Yes, take my picture, take the picture of the man who got his land honourably from his father, and now the Government wants to take it away.
They take more pictures of him.
Their actions, and the enormity of the deed that the Government proposes to commit, and the thought of losing his house and land, bring on a kind of hysterical sobbing, and he cries out at the police.
– The British gave it to me, and now the Boers are trying to take it away. I tell you, I tell you . . .
Now such things are not said. They may be thought, but they may not be said. Mr. Robert Maguza, chairman of the Drayton Moor branch of NALA, goes to the sobbing man, and leads him to the door. He gestures angrily to the police who are taking photographs of the dramatic subversive scene. At the door he gently advises the wife of the sobbing man to take him home. When he returns the church is silent. He turns to the white policemen and says to them,
– You do not know what you are doing, you are sowing the seeds of your own destruction, and the destruction of many of us also.
He turns to the black policemen and says to them,
– A prostitute sold her body and Christ forgave her, but you sell your souls, and whether you will ever be forgiven, I do not know.
Mr. Maguza returns to the chair, and says to the police,
– You have done your harm now, I ask you to go.
The policeman in charge says angrily,
