John Chinaman on the Rand

by Anonymous

This ominous clause was rendered necessary by the steadily increasing growth of opium dens.

Twelve months before, some few weeks after the arrival of the first batch of Chinamen, the Government had passed what was known as the Poison Ordinance. The object of this Ordinance was to regulate the sale of opium. It provided that only registered chemists and druggists might sell opium, and that every package of the drug must be labelled with the word "Poison."

Of course, this was ridiculously inadequate, and it was soon found that more stringent measures must be taken. It was decreed, therefore, that opium could only be sold to persons known to the seller, and on an entry being made in the poison-book. These further restrictions were found perfectly futile. The sale of opium increased enormously.

At a meeting of the Transvaal Pharmacy Board, the secretary of the board read his report on the poison-books of the chemists in Johannesburg. It transpired that an examination of the books of one chemist had disclosed the following sales of opium on various dates in July and August last—336 lbs., 18 lbs., 28 lbs., 7 lbs., 31 lbs., 48 lbs. All this had been sold to Chinamen for smoking purposes.

One lot was said to have been sold under a medical certificate, but the doctor concerned denied all knowledge of such certificate. The chairman of the board said, that while it was gratifying to know that only three out of sixty-eight pharmacies along the Rand carried on traffic in opium, the ugly fact remained that two of these chemists had imported during August two tons of Persian opium for smoking purposes, and an examination of their books disclosed that only a few pounds were unsold.

In vain have the authorities attempted to put an end to this drug habit. Recommendations have been made by the Pharmacy Board that any chemist secretly supplying the Chinese with drugs should be sent to prison, without the option of a fine. As if one evil were producing another evil, it has been proved that not only are the Chinamen demoralizing the Rand, but the Rand is demoralizing the Chinamen. The majority of the Chinese labourers have been drawn from the north of the Celestial Empire, where very little opium is used, on account of the poverty of the people. The comparatively large salaries which these labourers are now receiving enables them to indulge their inherited taste for the drug to their hearts' content.

But in addition to this sale of opium by chemists on the Rand, opium dens have sprung up all over the place. As soon as the police stamp them out in one quarter they reappear in another. They are accompanied, of course, by the usual gambling hells. These, too, the police endeavour to suppress. All the money that they find is impounded; heavy fines are exacted. But instead of decreasing they increase. The most dangerous vice of the Orient is thus thriving luxuriantly upon the favourable soil of the Rand.

One cannot blame the Chinaman for drugging himself. It is difficult even to blame him for the outrages that he commits. The opium habit, of course, is a step towards other habits. If the Chinaman merely went to the opium dens in his off hours, drugged himself, slept his celestial sleep, and then returned to his labours prepared to work as hard as any cart-horse, the Rand lords would be the last persons to forbid him these indulgences. But the opium habit is demoralizing and degrading. It excites passions almost beyond control.

I have already pointed out that Mr. Lyttelton promised in the House of Commons that the Chinaman should be allowed to take his womenfolk with him if he wished, and a great point was made of the fact that the morality of the Chinamen would be well looked after. No risks were to be taken. The Archbishop of Canterbury had to be satisfied upon the point before he made his regrettable necessity speech—"Show me that it brings about or implies the encouragement of immorality in the sense in which we ordinarily use the word, and, I am almost ashamed to say anything so obvious, I should not call the so-called necessity worth a single moment's consideration. In such a case there could be but one answer given by any honest man. The thing is wrong, and please God it shall not take place."

The Most Reverend Primate should be satisfied by now that the system deliberately set up in the Transvaal has brought about and encouraged immorality.