*

-1 ll/if

How aouth African principles of racial separation work out in practice.

THE MEANING OF APARTHEID

Like other countries, South Africa has made its contribution of words to the

international vocabulary. The best-known of them all is apartheid. which has today

becoio synonomous with the system of racial discrimination practised in South Africa.

But what does apartheid really mean? Literally, it is "separateness" or

"segregation." Apartheid, say its supporters, is natural and right, and allows for

no concessions. It is a matter of principle. Professor J.D.J. Hofoeyr, of the

Pretoria University department of Genetics, explains that race prejudice is just as

fundamental for the perpetuation of the race as feeding, propagation, or other natural

pheraxftia. It is a natural consequence, he says, of the need for "racial integrity",

that in, of races wanting to keep themselves 'pure.' Racial discrimination is nan's

way of protecting himself from any danger to this racial integrity, and this is quite

natural. It has only acquired a sinister meaning as a result of 'leftist' propaganda.

When you build the structure of a whole society on a scientifically incorrect

premise, interesting problems are bound to arise. They do; every week, South Africans

find themselves confronted with fascinating new situations arising out of apartheid.

And they must take their stand on principle.

, .',iat happens to principle when it clashes head-on with profits?

Tjtifta la apartheid: A trade delegation arrived in South Africa from Japan. Now,

Japanese, being Asiatics, fall into the apartheid category of non-Whites, which means

they apy not use 'White' transport, stay in 'White' hotels, visit 'White* theatres or

cinemas, or use other facilities in the towns which are reserved for Whites only.

This is an offensive way to treat business men invited over for big deals. The South

African government announced that Japanese are to be considered Whites. The statement

caused some concern, particularly among South Africa's Chinese and Indian population,

who remain 'non-Whites', subject to apartheid discrimination.

Just about the same time, a party of Japanese swimmers was due to visit South

Africa, and were to swim in the capital city, Pretoria. The Pretoria City Council

announced that Japanese would not be permitted to swim in their (Whites only) pool.

This decision ignored completely the fact that the South African government had just

entered into a R90 million (£45 million) contract to supply pig-iron to the Yawata

Company of Japan - and that three of the visiting swimmers were actually employees

of the Yawata Company.

There were alarmed protests from several sources, including the Chairman of the

South African Wool Board, who thought the incident might upset his plan to sell

Japan an extra RIO million worth of wool this year.

After a buxx of activity in top government circles, a prominent member of

Parliaiiynt was sent to Pretoria, and the City Council lifted its ban cm the Japanese

tourists.

Shortly after this, a Pretoria bus-driver was disciplined for not allowing a member

of the staff of the Japanese Consulate to travel on his bus. They are permitted to

travel on buses reserved for Whites only. The unfortunate bus-driver pleaded that

he could not tell a member of the consulate staff from an ordinary Japanese.

However, where profit is not involved, apartheid operates differently.

This is apartheid: A young white woman went to the police and complained that

an African had beckoned to her. The African (who denied the charge) was fined R30

or 60 days for crimen in.1uria.

is apartheid: Mrs. Wenie Ntlonti, who gave birth to triplets in Nyanga East

(Cape Town) last December, has been ordered to leave Cape Town and go and live in

the Transkei, where she was bora. Her two surviving babies (one died) are still in

hospital. When she leaves, her home will be broken and her husband will be sent to

live in bachelor quarters.

This is apartheid: A white girl, Rose Bloem, met an Indian, Syrub Singh. They fell

Apartheid 2

in love, and went to Rhodesia to marry. Under oouth African law, they may not

marry. They returned to South Africa, and were arrested under the Immorality Act,

which £ prohibits sexual intercourse between white and non-white. They got off

on a technicality - the prosecution had failed to prove that they are domiciled in

outh Africa - but they live under the shadow of re-arrest.

Thia is apartheid: Out of a population of 11 million Africans, 855 last year

readied the stage where they could sit for the matriculation examination (which

qualifies for entrance to university.) Out of these, 140 received school-leaving

certificates; 77 obtained a university pass.

This meagre flow of 77 is to feed three so-called ’ethnic' universities; and to

provide the professional and adminstrative personnel for Dr. Vemerd's Bantuatans.

Matriculation results have been declining rapidly since 1956, when Bantu .Education

was in xoduced. In 1948, 53 per cent of those sitting passed; in 1958, 38 per cent;

a year later, 19 per cent. Last year - 9 per cent.

Thi-: is a m r t h m d ; prom 1951 to I960, 3*511.151 Africans were convicted of pass

law and influx control offences in South Africa, disclosed the Minister of Justice in

Parliament recently. In one day last year, 7,819 were arrested in police swoops to

•avert crime.' Of these, 7#450 were brought to trial. The charges? All but 126

of them were charged with trespass, non-payment of tax, contraventions of the pass

laws, vaster and Servants Act, Liquor Act, and so on - all these crimes do not exist

in civilised countries.

Thin la apartheid: A novel, "A World of Strangers", written two years ago by

the South African author, Nadine Gordimer, has been banned in its cheaper, 'paper­

back* edition only. The reason is that the book might undermine the traditional

race policy in South Africa, and the cheap edition is likely to be distributed among

more — and less discriminating - readers than the hard cover edition. The theme of

the novel is the friendship between a White man and a Black man in Johannesburg.

Apartheid 3

I*»iP ,4a. ftgartheAfl: Six Chinese women, members of a softball teem, have bean

excluded from the South African Championships because the Pretoria City Council

refuses to let them play on municipal fields.

The strength of apartheid, maintain its supporters, is its inflexibility. The

sacred rule is: don't give an inch, because once you give one seat in Parliament to

a Black man, the next thing the whole Parliament will be Black.

But uhct about the white Japanese?

The truth is that apartheid is not a matter of principle. It is a means of

covering and maintaining privilege and profits for a minority of people. It is a

cruel and hateful system that deprives the majority of South Africans of the right

to a proper education, that divides families, that sends more than 5̂ - million people

to j;:il in 9 years for crimes that don't exist anywhere else in the world.

The maintenance of apartheid in South Africa today is bringing forth a military

machine, working together closely with the police, arming the reactionary White

section of the population.

Apartheid endangers not only South Africans - but world peaci.

Apartheid 4 ^

A SOUTH AFRICAN WRITES ON

.’■HAT I KNOW OF POLAND

' n L|

I visited Warsaw once, briefly, more than sixteen years ago.

That is all I know of Poland. Yet that visit provided one of those moments

of illumination that remain for a lifetime.

I had been to Prague to a Conference, and now with a few days to spare

before catching a plane from London back to South Africa, I went to Warsaw

at the request of two Polish Jewish friends in Johannesburg, who had asked me

to try and trace any surviving relatives of theirs.

Of course, I found none. I did meet an American woman who told me that of

a Polish family of 63, she had found just one left alive, a young girl who \

had gone away with a Russian guerilla band. Far away, at the southern end of

the great African continent, we had read of the destruction, the death camps,

the fate of millions of Jews. We had wept over.it, too, but the scale of it

was beyond comprehension and the reality beyond conception.

Warsaw lay in ruins. A pedicab, operated by a ragged scarecrow of a man

who chargelme five times the usual fare, took me to two hotels. The first

was full of foreign correspondents, and the second, where I stayed, was half

repaired, with buckets standing beneath wash basisjfe that did not yet function,

and walls being built practically around the guests.

I walked through the streets of Warsaw. Ro»s of single-story shops faced

onto a main street. Food and clothes were scarce and expensive, but there

were plenty of photographers and perfumeries. I tried to imagine the city

before the ruins had been cleared to form streets again; tried to imagine

where people had started to clean up among that massive, endless pile <|(n

pile of rubble and broken bricks that had once been a great city. \

I asked to see the Ghetto. "There is nothing to see," my guide told me. But

I persisted. So we drove out on an ioy afternoon to what seemed to be an

open field, only sparcely sprinkled with the snow of that late, hard winter,

only lightly scattered here and there with lumps and mounds of stones or

bricks. Beneath there, they told me, half a million people still lay buried.

I had expected to be moved, distressed. But this was something else, a draining

of all emotion, leaving one empty and blank, like this field that had once

been the sparkling commercial heart of the city.

As distxurbing were the skeletons of tree-stumps in what had once been the

parks. It was possible to comprehend the fvx*£ fury that had driven the Nazis

to destroy the city completely, tor reduce beautiful buildings and ancient

South African 2 ^

monuments and museums to ruins. But I could not understand the insanity that

made them fire and blast and chop to pieces every bush and tree.

Little boys in thin clothes and cloth caps, with white faces, bad teeth

and red-rimmed eyes, swarmed on the trams late at night, trying to get coins

or bread. People said to me: "This was the main shopping centre . . . here

stood a famous church . . . a theatre . . . a university . . . " I listened,

but did not hear. I saw only ruins, ruins.

When I returned home, I spoke to some friends at the house of a South

African who had originally come from Warsaw. "Prague is such a beautiful

city," I told them. After the guests bad gone, my hostess fetched a book of

photographs. "Our city was beautiful, too." She turned the pages to reveal

wide streets, squares, shops, theatres, churches . . . they bore no relation

to those endless streets of ruins that I had seen.

Yet of all the places I had visited in Europe this year after the war

ended, if I had to choose one to live, I would not have chosen London, where

1 had been born, nor the delightful Paris or enchanting Prague, but precisely

that massive pile of ruins - Warsaw. Even then - or was it especially then? -

there throbbed through the remains of the city a vibrant life, a hope, an

optimism. People who had lost everything of the past now turned their faces

firmly towards the future. The war, the brutalities and excesses of fascism, ki

had wiped out so much, destroyed so many families and villages and homes,

ruined so many towns and villages, razed so much of the cultural heritage of

the past. But with the defeat of Nazism had gone also Poland's shackles. It

v/as like turning the page of an absprbing book, only to find it blank. At

first you are distressed and at a loss to know how the story continues. Then

you take up your own pen, as the rea&l&ation comes that you can write the rest

for yourself. What has gone before must influence what you write now; but

the shape of coming history is, for the first time, in your own hands.

I longed to go back to Warsaw and be part of that tremendous, exciting and

demanding task of reconstruction. But I am a South African, anc the demands

made on me were from my own country. The years went by, and the Polish people

did v<hat no foreigners could do for them. The Warsaw of today is not the one

I remember, and the Poland of today is not the one I once read about.

Poland of the past was a land, we were told, of great estates and feudal

peasants. I know that the PQlish people have now built an industry so thriving

that for years they have been able to export industrial plant to other

South African 3 4

countries. I know that Poland is a socialist country* and I am deeply

conxvinced that only socialism can offer the people true economic and social

justice.

But that is all I know of Poland, except for one more thing.

I know that the Polish people have worked to eliminate for all time the

ideas of racial arrogance and discrimination that poisoned so many and

destroyed so much. For us in South Africa, this is the most important thing

of all. For our fight against racial oppression has still to be won, and

inseparably linked with that fight for national liberation is the struggle

for peace. In these struggles, we look to countries like Poland, -vhere the

people have written new history on clean pages. We clasp firmly and hopeful!

the hand of solidarity and friendship that the people of Poland extend

to us.

Ends

FROM: Mrs. Hilda Bernstein,

P.O. Box 10028,

Johannesburg.

South Africa.

cj M I IPr ^OTKCTORATES II: 'C .;~-C

If you flew over Southern Africa, you would be urable to

distinguish the territory of the Republic of South Africa and the

territories of the three British Protectorates in South Africa:

Basutoland, Swaziland and Bechuanaland.

Swaziland is divided from South Africa's Eastern Transvaal only

by an imaginary line drawn on the map; nothing marks the frontier on

the ground. Basutoland's frontier is partially marked by a river; for

the rest, there is only an imaginary line, the peaks and foothills of

the Drakensberg Mountains scattered indiscriminately on both sides of

the border. Bechuanland borders on S0uth Africa's Wes t e m Transvaal,

anri two rivers mark much of the border. But to the traveller on foot

there is nothing In vegetation or topography to distinguish one side

from the other. Geographically, the Protectorates are indistinguish­

able from South Africa.

Nor are there any clear racial or tethnic divisions. The inhabit­

ants on <dOE one side of the border are indistinguishable from those

across the border. They speak the same language, follow the same custg:

and trace their ancestries through the same tribal histories.

The only real divisions between South Africa and the Protectorate

are the divisions made by politics.

The factors that brought these territories into being as separate

from South Africa were almost accidental. Basutoland was actually

handed over to the then Parliament of the C,r,pe Colony by the British

Government, shortly after they had annexed it in 186S. But Cape Govern

ment policy was not acceptable to the Basuto, and because of strong

opposition to these policies, the Cape asked Britain in 1883 to take

the territory back and administer it herself. This was done, add the

foundation was laid for the present division between South Africa

and the Protectorates, or 'High Commission Territories.'

Until a few years apo, it would not have made any substantial

difference to the lives of the Protectorate peoples had they been

incorporated into South Africa, as the S0uth African government wishec

Despite political frontiers, they have been tied to the Republic of

South Africa so closely that the "protection” of the British throne

has been a fiction rather than a fact.

Economically, all the territories are shackled to South Africa's

• --migrant labour system; the men leave the Protectorates under contract

to South Africa’s mines and major farms, just as the men in South

Africa itself leave the African reserves. Agricutlure has become as

much the responsibility of the women, the aged and the children as it

has been in the depopulated South African reserves.

Where there has been white settlement, it has been - as in South

Africa - on the most fertile lands, in the best irrigated areas, in

the only places accessible to the town markets. Where there are roads

and railways it is, as in South Africa, where there are industries to

serve, White farmers' products to carry, or able-bodied men to transpor

to the gold mines.

The British 'protectorate' has not kept S0uth Africa from penet­

rating deep into the life, economy and adminstration of the Territories

South African currency is the currency of the Protectorates, the postal

and radio services are South African. Customs duties and import and

export control are exercised by South Africa.

The colour bar maintained by the British adminstration is less

rigid and extreme than the South African, but still rigid enough to .

reserve almost all senior adminstrati^e posts to Whites, and to keep

the eiubs, hotels and main sporting a&enities for Whites only.

Thus the divisions between South Africa and the Protectorates are

not>f, generally, substantial - except only the political divisions.

South Africa, under the Nationalist government, has been receding

steadily into an ever more restricted and confined political prison

for non-Whites, while the Protectorates are moving towards new and

more representative forms of government in which the people are, for

the first time, voting for local adminstrations with some measure of

authority. They are moving in opposite directions.

Yet here it is interesting to note that while the struggle for

liberat'on is Well-developed in South Africa, that in the Protectorates

is in its infancy. Eow does one account for the fact, then, that today

the Protectorates stand on the threshold, of self-government, while

in South Africa the people suffer a greater oppression and deprivation

of rights year by year?

Before finding the answer to this question, let us take a brief

look at these Territories, and particularly at Baaatoland, where the constitutional changes today are of specific interest.

-2 -

BECHUANALAND -3-10

Bechuanaland is the largest of the three territories, 225,00 square

miles, bordered by South West Africa to the west, Rhodesia to the north,

and South Africa to the east and south. It is mainly a ranching country,

and about 90% of the 1,325,000 cattle are owned by the Africans, but prolonged

drought and acute water shortage handicap ranching and the *velopment of

tribal lands. Only 5 per cent of the 8 million acres of arable land are

under cultivation. The country's only rail line runs up its eastern border,

linking with Bulawayo, and the rest of this vast country is

unreached by rail or easily passable roads. Thus there are difficulties in

the marketing of the cattle.

Bedhuanaland is not a rich country. Without its overseas subsidies it

would cease to have any organised economy at all. Britain's sovereignty over

an important part in the general scramble for Africa during the late 19th

century', but the acquisition of Bechuaniand proved more of a liability than

an asset.

The revenue derived by the Administration from the export of beef is

insufficient to develop the Territory's power, water, communications and the

social services, nor to tap it for any of its other resources. Money has come

from the Colonial Development and Welfare Fund, and this year Bechuanaland

received a million and a half pounds from Britain.

Asbesto/Is and manganese are mined in certain parts of the country; and

some prospecting for coal and other minerals is taking place. But as a whole

the country depends on its cattle, and this dependence is the reason why the

spirit of nationalism has not yet penetrated into the Kalahari, and why the

Chiefs, whose badge of office has always been the number of their herds,

still retain such a powerful hold over the lives and souls of their tribesmen.

There are no urbanised Africans to speak of; most are confined to the

Tribal Territories, over which the various Chiefs feold virtually autocratic

sway.

SWAZILAND

The smallest of the three territories is Swaziland, 7,70^ square miles,

bordered by South Africa on the west and south, Mozambique to the east.

This is the only territory out of the three where there has been substantial

white settlement, and more than three-sevenths of Swaziland is owned by

whites. The white-owned areas are scattered all over the country, so that

this territoriy dates back to Cecil John Rhodes’ imperial dream played

a map showing African and White land ownership is like a patchwork quilt.

Most of the big development projects are sited in the predominantly White

areas, such as the £10 million wood and pulp export project run jointly by the Colonial Development Corporation and the giant British firm of Courtaulds;

and a projected Anglo-American and Japanese iron ore development programme.

Asbestos accounts for more than half the Sh million exports (1957-58.) This

territory has the greatest general development, including a cannery.

BASUTOLAND

An enclave entirely surrounded by the Republic of South Africa - that is

Basutoland, a small country of 11,716 square miles. The boundaries were

decided forcibly in the last century, and the true boundaries of Basutoland,

if properly drawn, would extend deep into the Orange Free State, a province

of South Africa. There is good reason why the Free Staters call the rich

lands of the Caledon Valley Die Verowerde Gebied - the conquered territory.

Basutoland is a well-watered country, with three main rivers that flow

into the Republic of South Africa, and there united to form one river - the

Oramge. Yet there is practically no irrigation in the Territory. There are

several schemes for hydro-electric po wer, but all involve delivery of water

to areas of the Orange Free State, where expanding industry needs it, and this

would involve closer and more complex relations with South Africa. The Ox

Bow scheme, for instance, which has been shelved as too costly, even in the

first stage, would have generated a large proportion of current that would hav

been sold to South Africa, thus binding Basutoland more closely to South

Africa's economy.

Agriculture in this little land is mainly subsistence farming. The

total value of agricultural output in 1958 was about to £5 million, with exports amounting to £300,000, mostly wheat and pulses. The typical Basuto

family cultivates a plot of land of from 5 to 10 acres, with perhaps a small v e g e ta bl e pbt in addition. All land, trees and reeds are conceived as

belonging to the Paramount Chief, held by him in trust for the Basuto nation.

Lands is allocated by chiefs andheadmen to the people, and withdrawn if not

used. Seven percent of Basuto families are entirely landless. About 150,000

out of 160,000 families have holdings of land, and of these 53*000 (33$) have less than 4 acres; the reamining 97,000 have an average of 7 acres.

farming is of the most primitive kind; the present average annual value

of crops from a 7-acre plot is £30, with 22% of the land left fallow. The

use of fertilizers and manure is hardly known, while there is no proper

rotation of crops. Soil conservation is a major need and urgent problem.

Wool and mohair are the chief sources of agricultural income, and ther

main exports (apart from one, mentioned below.) Although exporting wool,

Basutoland imports blankets, having no textile industry, nor in fact any other

industries. The famous Basut@ blankets, worn as a robe, are actually made in

South Africa.

POPULATION OF THE THREE TERRITORIES.

AFRICAN WHITE ASIANT m i 11JDS iM±x*S£TAL

BASUTOLAND 638,857 1,926 2^7 2kk 641,674

SWAZILAND 2^5,000 5,919 - 1,378 252,297

BECHUANALAND 350,000 3,000 250 700 353.950

Despite its comparatively small population, labour is Basutoland’s chief

export - migrant labour, and the primary source of income. 150,000 Basutos

are continuously in resident outside Basutoland, on the Rand (Transvaal), and

the Orange Free State mines, and in neighbouring farms and in industry. Their

earnings are a mggor source of income to the Basuto. At any one time, 4 3 Per cent of the African male population is away on mines or farms, mostly mines.

(Bechuanaland also exports labour, although not to the same extent.

15,000, or 20 per cent of the men are away at any given time in South Africa

or the Rhodesias, as migrant workers, staying away for average periods of

tine months*)

ZkexSxalBKfcBKxfcBsxmx Of the three territories, Basutoland is closest

to the goal of fully responsible government elected by universal franchise.

Universal male suffrage elects half the National Council, the tribal chiefs

the remainder. The Council has real legislative power in many things, but

important powers - defence, internal security and others - are reserved for-

the ^ritish-appointed adminstrator. In Bechuanaland, a Legislative Council,

indirectly elected, partly nominated by the Adminstrator and heavily weighted

in favour of the White minority exercises substantial authority under the

A d m i n s tratofj’s veto right. In Swaziland, representative government of some

type is only now under discussion.

THE BASUTOLAND CONSTITUTION

A new Constitution came into operation in Basutoland in 1959. It provided

for a Legislative Council (called the Natiottal Council) with wide powers.

As usual, however, with this type of constitution, ultimate control of such

vital areas of government as foreign affairs, defence, currency, the civil

service, etc., remained with the British Government.

The present National Council has 80 members, 4o of whom are elected by

secret* ballot, but indirectly (the people elect District Council members who

in turn elect from amongst themselves members to the National Council. This

system has many disadvantages, in theory and in practice.)

The 40 other members are appointed; 22 of these are Chiefs who come as

ex-officbo members into the Council, 14 are nominated by the Paramount Chief,

and k are British officials.One of the demands for immediate implementation is an electoral reform

which will enable all persons over the age of 21 to elect or be elected to all Councils of the State. The present electoral arrangements virtually exclude

women from the voters' roll. Yet the right of women to vote is particularly

urgent, as the women play such an important part in the absence of their

migratory men-folk.

The new constitutional set-up cannot last even as long as was anticipated

In the District Councils the struggle for power between the old and the new

forces emerges quite clearly. Basutoland has been divided into 9 districts.

The organ of government in each district is the District Council which is

elected by secret ballot except for an ex-officio President, invariably a

Chief.

The struggle arises from the process whereby the District Councils are

taking over 411 the ftcsKtxaxxy adminstrative and law-making functions formerly

invested either in the District Commissioners or the Chiefs. The Chiefs in

particular are now agitating against the new set-up, with a view to restoring

their powers. This campaign by the Chiefs is giving rise to a counter-campaign

for reforms which will curtain or eliminate the powers of the Chiefs entirely.

POLITICAL FORCES IN BASUTOLAND

The most important organisation from the point of view of popular support

at the elections for the National Council in 1959 is the Basutoland Congress

Party. It holds tflrjpfeppQt 32 of the 4-0 elected seats, the other 8 going to

■mailer parties opposed to the BCP. This meant that the BCP had 32 members

against 48, but within a year, it had won over some of the Chiefs, and the

appointed members are not, in any case, united on all issues.

The BCP came into existence in 1952, being sponsored and founded by the

African National Congress of South Africa, its leaders being originally

members of the ANC. At that time, the leaders of the BCP wished to make

their new party a branch of the ANC, but the ANC leaders insisted that they

-6-m

should be an independent party. Recently the leadership of the BCP has taken

a swing to the right. The President, Mr. MohheJ^he, has made some strong

attacks on communism, and on trade union leaders who believe in a strong

working class movement. He has also attacked leaders of the ANC in South

Africa, breaking with the basic policy of cooperation with the ANC. These

attacks began after the ANC had been banned by Dr. Verwoerd's Nationalist

government.

The BCP stands for complete independence. They do not at present favour

the disappearance of the Chiefs. The suggestion seems to be for some sort of

College of Chiefs, but in the Districts their role would be confined to that

of adminstrative servants of the District Councils.

Trade Unions are of fairly news and recent growth. At the present time,

the most important is the General Workers' Union, led by Jack Mosiane (who

was deported from SoAth Africa.) The trade union movement is young, yet

important, as it represents workers in the towns who have close connections

with the countryside. The General Workers' Union i3 at present claAing with Mokhehle, who has expressed the view that the trade unions should become a

branch of the BCP with membership conditional on BCP membership. Mosiane, who

is himself a member of the BCP, opposes this policy, which would hinder the

development of the trade unions.

Th6 oldest political organisation is Lekhotla La Bafo, founded in 1918

by Josiel Lefeal. 'Bafo' is the Sutho word for Commoners; Lekhotla means an

organisation or league, so that this is a League of Commoners. In its original

form it was essentially a peasant party, with the original aim of re-uniting

the Chiefs and the people who, its leaders said, had been parted by the

British.

Lekhotla La Bafo has always been a revolutionary organisation. In 1928

it established relations with the Communist Party of South Africa, and

these were maintained until 1950, when the Communist Party was banned and

dissolved in South Africa. It had actually applied at one time for affiliation

to this Party, although for various reasons it was not accepted.

Josiel Lefela, the 'League's' leader, is the grand old man of Basuto

politics, a remarkable man now about 75 years old. His memory is astonishing,

and his knowledge of Sutho history is prodigbus. At various times in his life

he has been charged with sedition by the British authorities, who ha has

opposed relentlessly, and sent to prison. Throughout the last war he was

-7- H»

interned for his demand that Basuto soldiers should be properly armed before

being sent to fight German fascists in North Africa.

Lekhotla La Bafo opposed the present constitution of Basutoland as a

fraud. They decided to boycott the elections under the constitution. It is

possible that the low poll of under 20 per cent may be accounted for by this

boycott. Nevertheless, the effect of this was to isolate Lekhotla somewhat,

as all advance is now linked in the minds of the people with t)pe National

Council, from which change is expected to come. Steps are being taken by

the Lekhotla to bring its organisation and structure up to date. While origin­

ally based on the peasants, it must be born in mind that there are no indust­

ries in Basutoland, the town workers being mostly shop and small workshop

assistants, while the peasants themselves have nearly all at one time in

f6?irL i ^ 8 f l k efigswS ^ i g ! a ? 5 a » i88RftelM88s°SnlaB2i8£i?B ih South Africa, there- Lekhotle. la Bafo may be the 'dark horse’ of Basuto politics, but it cannot be

ignored, and its importance in the future may grow considerably.

Apart from these main groups, there is a large assortment of parties

for such a small country. The most important of the smaller parties is the

Basutoland Freedom Party, led by Mr. B.M. Khaketla, a former leader of the

BCP. There is also the Marema Tlou Party, led by Chief S.S. Matete, also

a former leader of the BCP. Practically all the smaller parties are break­

aways from the BCP, sometimes with policies that do not appear to differ

fundamentally from the parent body.

The Paramount Chief, Koshoeshoe II, Constantihe Bereng Seeiso, is a very

potent political force. He holds all the land in Basutoland, in trust for the

nation. He allocates land to all in the country. This power he delegates to

subordinate chief 1/^afpofSled by him. It is worthwhile to mention an important

fact, namely that there is no land ownership in the modern sense in Basuto­

land. All land is held on the basis of traibal tenure. Practically all land

is held by the Basuto, through Bereng, with the exception of important holdings

(which are increasing) of the Roman Catholic Church.

The Catholic Church, with its large holdings of land for its churches,

schools, etc., is an important political force in the Country. Its political

wing is the National Party led by Chief Jonothan Leabua. In the last

elections this party was trounced, despite its fairly large popular vote.

Nevertheless, it is a party to be watched because of the support of the

Church, with its nation-wide cadre of priests and schoolteachers.

At the last session of the National Council held in September, the

Paramount Chief made a speech which foreshadowed further changes in the

Constitution, which would result in virtually complete internal self-govern­

ment. A resolutioh was passed calling for a new constitution which would

provide for a cabinet responsible to the National Council, and abrogate the

internal and external powers of the British High eommissioner. The resolution

calls for the powers jbx at present held by the High Commissioner to be

transferred to the Paramount Chief, who would then be head of state (on the

lines of the Sultan of Zanzibar or the princely states of India.) Laws would

be in the name of the paramount Chief, with the consent of the National

Council.

EDUCATION

The educational system is largely in the hands of three missions: the

Roman Catholic, the Paris Evangelical, and the Church of England. The

ritish Government has done Bext to nothing in promoting education, and this

applies also to the other High Commission Territories; the amounts spent

by the British government on education have been negligible. The only instit­

ute for Higher Education in all three Territories is the Roman Catholic

Roma College in Basutoland. There is one government school - only one - in*

all ^asutoland, and this is a technical trades school. One-sixth of the

total Government expenditure of £2 million annually goes in grants-in-aids

to schools. In 1958, 44,600 boys and 76,000 girls were in school, of which

802 were in secondary schools, the rest in primary schools with only 39 of these in the highest form at primary school.

Perhaps 95 per cent of the children go to school for some time, but

relatively few pupils go beyond Standard 4, the third highest primary form,

and only 4 out of the 20 secondary schools offer the full 5-year course for

a matriculation certificate. Nor is the quality of education satisfactory.

A major cause is the lack of qualified teachers, and their low salaries and

living conditions.

It is interesting that in reverse to the usual position in such countries

more girls become literate than boys. Nearly all girls will be able to read

or write a little, but only half the boys. This is because while most girls

of 10 to 16 are at school, half the boys are absent on land duties, most

tending cattle.

In Swaziland hardly more than half the African children are in school

at any one time. Many do not go on after Standard two.

There are little opportunities for higher education in Basutoland, and

except for the Medical School in Natal, South Africa, Basutos cannot now get

University training in South Africa (as they could until last year.) A few

places exist in Federation and Central Africa, but financial assistance is

usually necessai^L A few Basutos study overseas, and at Roma University

College, which runs courses in the humanities, science, commerce and education

under the aegis of the University of South Africa.

Two trade schools have an output of 35 students a year, but do not requiri

secondary school certificates, and the graduates have therefore limited

chances for self-employment or responsible posts.m.T'f i

The burden of past neglect constitutes the biggest obstacle to advance

in the Protectorates. In no Territory have the scientific surveys necessary

for proper ecohomic planning been fully made. Soil erosion even today is

outpacing soil conservation} road systems are entirely inadequate "due to

their having been starved of funds over a long period."* The equipment at the

Maseru (Basutoland) telephone exchange was installed in 1895*

None of the Protectorates have ever been bright jewels in the imperial

crown, nor are t&ey likely to be. They are generally poor in known mineral

deposits; their soil and climate are generally unsuitable for large-scale

ranching or plantation farming (except the cattle-raching in Bechuaaiand.)

^hey have no known oil, no natural forests of timber. In addition, the

strategic value of these three land-locked enclaves is slight* Basutoland and

Swaziland are militarily untenable as bases without the cooperation of ^outh

Africa and perhaps Portugal. Bechuanaland is locked indefensibly between the

desert and South Africa. All three lie outside the main traffic routes and

trade-lines of modern commerce and modern military planning.

In the long run, their only substantial value to British Imperialism

has been manpower, which has built and continues to support one of the

richest commercial enterprises of Empire - the South African gold mines.

It is these generally low imperial stakes that account, in the first

place, for the fact that today the Protectorates have advanced far towards

self-government, even though there has been little political struggle in

recent times in 3echuanaland or Swaziland, and there was not a great deal

either in Basutoland before the present aonstitution was formulated.

Another factor, of course, is that we live in an age of African

independence, when the revolutionary struggles of the people against foreign

domination can no longer be suppressed. Britain clings desperately to its

-10-

imperialist possessions} but it is a losing fight. And in an effort to

prevent the total loss of its colonial positions, it is anxious to divest

itself of its blatant imperialist pact, and to pose as the friend and

protector of backward Africa. Where the imperial stakes are high, there

nothing is conceded without a fight. But where the stakes are low, there a

demonstration of the 'new look’ imperialism is worth while.

But the decisive factor in deciding Britain's policy has been the

struggle of the people in the contiguous territory - South Africa - against

their own government. By their own struggles against Nationalist apartheid, tk

they have forced South Africa's colour-bar system into the forefront of world

affairs. In a way, they have made South Africa the dividing point between

progress and reaction.

Who sides with the South African government brands himself as an arch

reactionary; who dares to copy the South African colour-bar institutions

reveals himself as an enemjr of the African people. In this setting, made by

the struggle of the South African liberatory movement, Britain risks her

entire prestige and status everywhere in Africa if she does not lead the

Protectorates away from the South African system towards votes and democ­

ratic government.

But in the Protectorates, because liberation is taking place without a

tremendous mass upsurge of the people, fckBxuuBZXil this conditions the

character of their liberation. The British government concentrates the att­

ention of the people on detailed matters of constitution, thus obscuring large

matters of principle. Th^.ocal organisations turn more and more attention to

the ®curing of office under these constitutions, losing sight of the funda­

mental is heed to mobilise the population for the tasks of liberation.

Can the Protectorates be truly independent? Doubts arise in some

quarters because of their position, economically and geographically, in

relation to South Africa. What must be emphasised first is that there is no

Ikelihood of economic development in these ^territories^even under the

ost benevolent colonialism. And warnings on the economic plight of these

countries comes mostly from those who have maintained them as a labour

reservoir in South Africa all these decades.

A country's greatest and most important resources are its people. Given

a system that releases the creative energies of the people and fills them with

determination, the people of the Protectorates will solve their problema.

No country can develop its own resources when its strongest labour

force is away from home. While industry and agriculture are undeveloped in

the Protectorates, the people are forced to seek work outside. That is the

vicious circle that must be broken. Then there is the question of land

tenure. Can Basutoland, for instance, develop a modern agriculture on the

basis of an unmodified tribal tenure? Thirdly, where is capital to come

from for development? In iistheir present status, the Protectorates look

exclusively to Britain for capital needs. Independent countries would be

able to look further afield.

What is needed today is masd support within the Protectorates for the

demands of independence. The± time is favourable, and what is more, every

forward act in the Protectorates weakens the South African government, and

heartens and inspires the South Affican people. Thus bold action now can be

a decisive furtrnx contribution to liberation in South Africa. And this is

more than an act of international solidarity. Fpr, in the long run, the

Protectorates and their future are bound up with the future of South Africa.

Egen as independent states, even when they have achieved full, democratic

and responsible government, the economic problems remain to the conquered.

And they cannot be conquered fully without cooperation, interchange, and joint

assistance between South Africa and themselves.

Boundaries or no boundaf/es, economically the fate of the Protectorates

is the fate of South Africa. They sink or swim together.

SOUTH AFRICAN TRADE UNIONS AND TKE COLOUR BAR. . J(2, ^ 20

Last week, at their 8th Annual Conference, the South African Trade Union

Council (S.A.T.U.C.) decided by an overwhelming majority (of 37 uniona

present, only two voted against) to "open its doors to all bona fide trade

unions." This decision ends nearly eight years of colour bar in SATUC, which,

when it was formed in 1951*. adopted a constitution which excluded all Africans.

The decision to reverse their colour-bar policy came after blunt speeches

by TUC delegates who have attended conferences overseas, and felt the chill

wind of criticism q!c their colour-bar from trade unionists of other countries, even those of the right-wing.

"You have no logical case to put up to people overseas as to why the

African trade union movement must be excluded , 11 stated Hr. Murray of the

Boilermakers' Union. "We would not in future be accepted in the international

trade union movement as an honest trade union organisation until *e face up

to this problem . . . " *

How did SATUC come to adopt a colour-bar conetitution in the first place?

The TUC reflects the double standard that permeates all South African life.

THK COLOUR BAR IN INDUSTRY

Over the years, two labour codes have emerged in South Africa, as the

cumulative result of various colour-bar labour laws and practices; and the

division between the codes widened sharply with the years of Nationalist

party rule.

By law and by custom, racial discrimination operates throughout industry,

here legislation does not prohibit the non-White workers from specified

skilled trades, then he is excluded in practice. For example, the law does not

exclude Africans from becoming apprentices in various industries, but in

practice only White youths sign indentures, even when there is an acute

shortage of apprentices in certain trades.

In 1936 the Government empowered itself to declare any occupation, trade

or industry to be the preserve of one racial group. 'Job reservation', as it

is called, has been applied to several industries for the purpose of reserv­

ing certain jobs for White workers only.

In disputes between workers and employers,, two sets of rules apply, one

for fthite workers, one for African. South African law recognises only those

trade unions 2trade unions which are registered under the Industrial Conciliation Act. 2-'

Although there is no explicit legal prohibition preventing the formation of

African trade unions, they cannot be registered and therefore are excluded

from any rights under this Act. The Act lays down a procedure of negotiation,

conciliation and arbitration in industrial disputes, and in this procedure,

registered trade unions play a major role.

Vshere disputes arise between African workers and their employers, the

workers cannot negotiate through trade unions, which are not ’recognised',

nor can they elect representatives to any of the Committees and Boards which

are supposed to look after their interests. They are represented by Government

officials* When the Government set up this state-controlled machinery for the

settlement of disputes involving Africans, the Minister of Labour stated that

"if that machinery is effective, the Natives will have no interest in trade

unions and (Native) trade unions will probably die a natural death.w

African workers are totally prohibited from strike action, under severe

penalties. When strikes do occur, the police are called in and the workers

arrested.*

Other laws and regulations, applicable only to Africans, affect the labour

conditions fundamentally, such as the laws restricting free movement of

African labour, and the Labour Bureaux System through which all changes of

jobs must be made and registered.

It should be noted th^t today the majority of workers in industry are

Africans.TRADE UNION DIFFICULTIES.

The organised trade union moveaent has suffered from these colour problems.

Workers’ solidarity has disappeared in the face of race prejudice. In skilled

trades, old-established unions exist with a tradition that dates back to the

days when White artisans came to South Africa from other countries* But these

unions made no attempt to organise African workers who entered their industriei

in ever-increasing numbers. The Mineworkers' Union, for instancd, is actively

opposed to the extension of trade union rights to African miners, in which

they have the support of the mining companies which prevent African miners

•In spite of this, more than 40,000 African workers were involved in strike action between the years 195** to i960, with several hundred prosecutions each year. In 1961, African nurses and 80 blind African workers were among those who went on strike. The latter were all dismissed, and had to re-apply for

work, with a certain number who were not re-engaged.

froa organising.

Reactionary trends in the trade union aovement received strong Oovernnent

support when the Nationalists came to power, with the result that the main

co-ordinating body of that tiae, the S. A. Trades and Labour Council, becaae

enmeshed in the web of apartheid policies. The crisis in the unions was

seriously aggravated by the Suppression of Coaaunisa Act, which robbed aany

unions of their aost able, experienced leaders who were forced by the govern-

aent to resign. As ban followed ban, doz ns of the most prominent trade union­

ists disappeared froa the scene. The crisis came to a head in 195^, when the

Government announced several drastic changes to the Industrial Conciliation

Act. A special conference was held by the trade unions to consider their

attitudes (it was called a 'Unity Conference*) and the outcoae was a triumph

for the reactionary trends. The S.A.T.L.C. dissolved itself and formed a new

federation, SATUC, which in an atteapt to win back reactionary, pro-governaent

unions, decided to exclude froa membership not only all African unions, but

also unions having African aeabers. Although aost of the old-established

unions joined the new body, the strongly pro-Government and pro-apartheid

unions for whoa the concessions had been Bade were not attracted, and retained

their own Co-ordinating Council. The division was further increased In 195&,

when new coapulsory apartheid priviaions forced white and Coloured workers

into separate unions.

The dissolution of the TLC wasnot accomplished without a sharp internal

struggle. Fourteen dissenting unions bitterly opposed what they regarded as a

desertion of fundamental trade union principle and pandering to apartheid

ideas, destructive of trade unionise. After the dissolution of the TLC, aost

of these unions joined together to establish the South African Congress of

Trade Unions (SACTU).

Since then, despite unprecedented persecution by the Government (their

annual conference was banned last year), SACTU has becoae the aost dynaaic

force in the history of the trade union aoveaent in South Africa. It has been

deprived, one by one, of alaost all its experienced leaders by an endless

series of bannings and proscriptions. Yet life itself has proved the failure

of the policy of retreat and concessions to racialisa, and fully vindicated

the stand taken by SACTU since the turning point of 195^.

ORGANISED LABOUR TODAY.

The position at present is that four co-ordinating trade union bodies

exist. These are: The S.A. Confederation of Labour, aade up of reactionary,

t r a d e u n io n s 3 L L ~

trade unions 4pro-&partheia White unione supporting Government policies of job reservation and non-

recognition of African trade unions. There are 28 unions in the Confederation* rep­

resenting 150,000 shite workers and 175 Coloured. The second body is the TUC, with

49 affiliated unions representing 110,400 White workers, 43,000 Coloured workers,

12,000 Indian workers, and which has now dropped its ban on African workers. The

third body is SACTU, with 51 affiliated unions representing 39*000 Africans, 13*000

Coloureds and Indians, and about 600 Whites. The fourth body, known as Fofatusa (the

Federation of Free African Trade Onions of S.A.) claim 17 affiliated unions of

13*0<j0 T’orkers, but it is doubtful if there are actually sore than 5 unions affiliated

to Fofatusa. This body received liberal assistance in the past from the TUC, but it is

hardly likely to dissolve itself now to please the TUC; all they had in coca.on was the

practical acceptance of trade union apartheid, and with that «one, it is doubtful

whether this strange alliance will survive.

There are about 106 unions that are not affiliated to any coordinating body,

representing in the main White and Coloured workers (about 50,000 Whites, 20,000

Coloureds, 4*000 Indiana and less than 5*000 Africans.)

What will be the practical results of the TUC's decision? There are now# on the face)

of it* two non—racial trade union federations. Will they continue as rivals* or will

they come together? To evaluate this, one must look at the motives that brought about

a change of heart in the TUC's attitude. Not all of them are worthy ones.

Undoubtedly the rejection of apartheid by the international trade union movement,

the United Nations and the International Labour Organisation strongly influenced the

TUC delegates in their decision. Last year SACTU lodged an objection to the Internationa

L bour Conference against the TUC representative, and the TUC had to face fierce critic­

ism of its colour-bar. Such pressure and influence internationally is of greatest import­

ance to the people of South Africa.

A second factor is the growth of SAC U and the strong demands within South Africa for

equal rights. Some of the TUC delegates paid tribute to the courage and tenacity with

which SACTU has stuck to its principles, but some spoke of gaining unions now affiliated

to SACTU and "putting it out of business". They argued against apartheid, not on the

grounds of principle* but as a weapon to be jised against an organisation which rejected

apartheid when the TUC adopted it, and stood by the principles through bitter Government

persecution.

some delegates showed an awareness of the threats to White workers' standards in a

divided trade union movement, particularly through the building of 'border miuatriee'

- industries built on the borders of African reserves so that they can draw on supplies,

of cheap labour more easily.

2

trade unions *>

Hot nil delegates, however, were influenced by such motives of expediency. "The

year;; hnvtt shown," aaid one, "that the more we have brought division into our movement

the core we have enabled the Government and its supporters to carry on its efforts to

bring about the downfall of the proper trade union movement. EACTU’a principle is the

accepted principle in world organisation." Another delegate stated "Basically a trade

union moveoent stands for the brotherhood of uan. There is no turning back. Hot you or

1 or taa Nationalist Government can atop the growth of the African nation. No person

should deny a human being the right to improve himself."

Of the 48 African unions at present functioning, 40 are already affiliated to SACTU,

which is actively engaged in organising among the main categories of unorganised Africii

writers. It is unlikely that these unions will desert the organisation which has ttood

by than through 3 years of harsh struggle, for the dubious benefits of affiliation tu

the TOC un er *hite leadership.

But ovary progressive person knows that unity in highly desirable, particularly in the faeo of continuous attacks on workers and their right to organise. In fact. t»iv

the African labour force are regular duea-paying trade union rubers;

although the influence of the unions is much greater than this figure reveals - {migral

ory labour, lack of access to factories, prohibitions by employers, the exclusion of

mineuov&era and agricultural workers, the enoxsoua handicaps in the way of the most

basic ur&pnising end regular collection of subscriptions, all contribute to keep the

figure down) - yet it is obvious that there are tremendoua tasks ahead in organising

African worker* and re-building the solidarity of those already organised.

a-Uopiy amending its constitution does not materially change the position of the TUC,

both within South Africa, and also at the ILO. It is not simply the right to affiliate

that African workers want, but the right to do skilled work. On this issue, the TOC has

by no loans freed itself from the tradition of White baasskap. Its NEC has supported

White unions in action calculated to keep Africans out of skilled Jobe in building and

in transport. In its report for the year ended January, 1362, the NEC of the TUC

urges that it should encourage "responsible African trade union leaders" who concentrat

on eeosocaaic issues to the exclusion of politics, and offers to supervise African unions

ini such a way as to "apply an effective braKe on the drift of African workers into

political and possible subversive activities.”

Loading members of the TUC have played a prominent part in introducing and imintain-

ing discrimination against non-tehite workers. Some of the affiliated unions have

actually made representation for Job reservation. A trustee of the TUC is a metaber of

the Hutional Unemployment insurance Board which unanimously recommended that unemploy­

ment betaafits be limited to White workers.

trade unions 6

Tiie TUC has amended its Constitution. It has not pledged itself to fight the

industrial colour-bar, nor to demand the right of non-white workers to become

skilled. It has not called for full equality for wll workers with equal rights and

opportunities. It has not faced up to tie truth that the slightest atteu.pt to improve

the economic position of African workers cooes up against laws that are fundamental

to the apartheid state, so that every economic demand becomes a political demand, for

the right of African workers to organise in trade unions, for the right to hold meetings

the right to speak, the right to move. he TUC says 'no politics', but these are all

political questions. It is political disabilities that account for low wages, exploit­

ation, unskilled labour, as well ae the semi-legal status of African trade unions. The

TUC must recognise these facts of South African life.

fly abandoning its policy of racial exclusiveness, however, the TUC has taken the

first step taowards the achievement of a single federation of all genuine non-racial

trade unions. Such unity will not be won overnight, let apartheid will crumble most

swiftly in the economic sphere, workers of all races will have to bear the brunt of

it. They must seek ways to bring their forces together, and the TUC decision is a first

step in that direction, one which opens the way to achieving trade union unity on

a nan-racial basis in the future.

Collection Number: A3299 Collection Name: Hilda and Rusty BERNSTEIN Papers, 1931-2006

PUBLISHER: Publisher: Historical Papers Research Archive Collection Funder: Bernstein family Location: Johannesburg

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