That same week at the home of the American representative of Coca-Cola, we met the Commissioner of Education—a white man, of course. We found Mr. De Plessis to be witty, urbane, and well informed, a delightful dinner companion but, like almost every other “European” we spoke to, defensive and uneasy on the subject of apartheid. He expressed sympathy for the condition of the natives and readily acknowledged the dangers and inequalities of the existing government policy. Nevertheless, he defended it, refusing to admit that there was any alternative. He emphasized (as did everyone else, as if it were a lesson they had learned by rote) that “South Africa’s problem is very different from yours in America,” and repeated the inevitable statistics: eight million nonwhites; only two million whites.
Of course, if one accepts his thesis that the white group is innately superior (citing, among other authorities, the Bible) and must maintain ascendancy, there does seem to be no alternative. De Plessis’s only hope seemed to be that during his tenure at least he would be able to maintain the status quo.
This philosophy, however urbanely expressed, seems to be prevalent in many countries today including, I am ashamed to say, our own. It can be expressed crudely as: “Get yours, keep the lid on, and leave the mess for your children to clean up.”
It is not a philosophy that tends to make for secure or stable children!
While we were in the country, several hundred prominent citizens, including Alan Paton, were rounded up in a single night and thrown into jail on the blanket, undocumented charge of “treason.” Treason, in South Africa, can be attributed to anyone who disagrees with the Nationalist party or criticizes its policies, with the result that more and more troubled individuals are leaving the country or, against the dictates of conscience, letting themselves be lulled into doing nothing.
We met one very brave man, a professor at the university, and a group of his friends whom we would never have met if it had not been for the unusual composition of our crew. Professor Maxwell and his wife (that is not their name) daily expected the ominous knock on the door, the summons to appear—or to disappear. And for what heinous crime? Only that they refused to choose or reject their friends on the basis of race. They have continued to entertain in their home men and women of whatever ancestry and by this personal defiance have cut themselves off from most of their “European” associates, who are afraid to continue a relationship with such dubious characters. Already the professor’s classes had been cut, his salary reduced, his membership canceled, in an effort to force him into line. The next step, of course, which he anticipated momentarily, was outright dismissal from the university—and jail.
The Maxwells’ courage was a revelation to us and a profound inspiration. Through them, for the first time, was brought home to us the realization that blind obedience to the laws of one’s country is not always the highest duty of a conscientious man. The actions taken by the Nationalists, such as the disenfranchisement of the Coloreds, restrictions on travel, the “pass laws” for Africans, curfews based on race, curtailment of job opportunities, and other encroachments on human rights have all been done quite legally—that is, in accord with the existing laws in South Africa. And yet the disparity between law and morality is so great that even those who have helped to make the laws seem to feel an impelling need to explain and justify.
What does a scientist do when confronted with such a situation as exists in South Africa? I saw one man’s adaptation, when I visited another university near Cape Town. My host was a fellow anthropologist, a specialist in early man, who very kindly spent the afternoon with me, showing me his laboratory and materials. Later, over tea, I commented, as one anthropologist to another, on the obviously erroneous racist policy of the government. My host froze instantly.
“That is not my field of interest,” he said coldly.
“But as an anthropologist—”