‘You have made out a very good case for your people as a nation, Steve, but what will you do with all the Englishmen in South Africa if it should become an Afrikander republic, as you seem to wish and hope? Will you drive them out of the country, or will you let them live an Uitlander race for ever here, as this Government is doing now? Will you exclude them from your future great South African nation?’
‘Decidedly not. We should be only too pleased to have them unite with us. I don’t know why they should remain Imperialistic for ever. In America they did not remain so! There they have united with other nationalities; why should they not do so here? Anyone who desires to become an Afrikander, be he English, Dutch, German, French, or even Russian by birth, all we should wish of them will be to have one object with us in promoting the happiness and peace of Republican South Africa.’
‘In short, they may be of whatever European nationality they like, but they must be for Republicanism?’
‘Even so!’
‘Now, Steve, you have defeated me at all points, I am almost bound to confess. It is a glorious object towards which you are tending, viz., a great and free united South Africa. But why does not your Government, whom you defend so much, make some beginning towards a union of the races by granting the franchise to all Uitlanders in this State?’
‘Because the time has not come yet. To grant the franchise now to everyone would be simply killing our future great nation in its infancy. Grant the franchise now to all strangers (of which the great majority are English), and in a year’s time this country will be governed, either as an English republic, with capitalistic rulers, or as an English colony, neither of which are desirable, you will grant—from our standpoint. While, if we had South Africa united as a republic, there would be no obstacle in the way of granting the franchise to everybody, as the main object would be attained then, and we would be strong enough to hold our own against any party of either foreigners, Imperialists or capitalists who may seek to overthrow us again.’
‘Even there I must say you are right; I am almost inclined to become an Afrikander already. Now I am afraid you will not be able to answer my next question as well. You may think it immaterial, but I think it of great importance, that a people and a country should possess a literature of its own. What have you to say to that?’
‘Of course we cannot pretend to possess a varied and extended literature like England has. There can be no question of rivalry as yet. But we are not altogether without a literature of our own. We have our own patriotic songs, and even poems. We have a few authors, too, of whom we need not be ashamed, chief amongst these we count Mrs Cornwright Schreiner, whose thoughtful book is read all the world over. Then we have the literature of our mother countries—Holland, France and Germany. We love to read the stories which tell of the vicissitudes of our forefathers in their own countries. We even take a sort of sad delight in reading of the persecutions our ancestors had to undergo for their religious opinions; persecutions which led either to the scaffold, or to banishment. Then, as I have said, we have the literature of Holland and other countries which has been translated into our language. We read all historical, religious, secular poetry or prose; all is grist to our mill, we only seek knowledge, and as we are thoroughly cosmopolitan, we care not from whose experience or knowledge, we can learn.
‘Then we have hope of future advancement in this line. Rome was not built in a day, and you cannot expect us to be the only exception to the rule, that it takes time to perfect all things. As education advances, and we begin to feel more and more that we are a people of some account, our national abilities will develop, and we may expect to gradually advance towards perfection in all things, such as national administration, education, literature, etc. Give us time!’
‘Well, I am glad to see that you are honest enough to acknowledge your defects, as well as to extol your virtues and natural abilities. I certainly grant the material for developement is there. It was only a week ago I saw a manuscript poem, which was written by a brick-maker, a poor Boer, who, unkempt, ill-clothed and unshaved, appeared to me as if he were incapable of stringing two thoughts together, and yet, as far as I could understand the short poem, which was written in the Taal, was admirable and forcible enough, though crude and rough in expression. I fancy if such a fellow had received a fair education he would have done something.’