A time like this

One hundred and ten years ago a terrible tragedy played out in this city and changed the course of South African history. The President of the Orange Free State, MT Steyn, convened the so-called Bloemfontein Conference to settle differences between the British High Commissioner, Alfred Milner, and the Transvaal President, Paul Kruger, on matters that included voting rights for Uitlanders and the use of English in the Transvaal Volksraad. For President Steyn this was a last-ditch effort at reconciliation between what was called "two races".

The reconciliation talks failed, and a few months later the Second Boer War broke out leaving more than 26 000 people dead: white and black, adults and children. The failure to reconcile at such a crucial time as that left scars on the South African political psyche to this day. And I have no doubt that the single most important reason for the breakdown in the Bloemfontein Conference was, profoundly, a failure of leadership.

We stand at another crucial time in our history this evening. Who would have thought that barely a decade after the miracle of our transition we would be talking about "minorities" in a democracy founded on the principles of non-racialism? Who could have imagined that in Mandela's country human appointments to jobs would be instructed by that calculating phrase, "the demographics of the country"? And who could have predicted the bare-knuckled violence that kills white farmers on their lands and foreign nationals on our streets, or that the poorest of black citizens would be felled by the racial anger of an 18-year old white boy barely out of high school?

South Africa faces today what John Samuels calls "our unfinished business." Our university, too, faces unfinished business, so let me get right to it.

The University of the Free State is 105 years old. In its long and proud history this institution has produced some of the finest jurists (including our Chair of Council, Judge Faan Hancke), teachers, medical scientists, architects, agricultural economists, poets, musicians, authors and nurses. The university has also produced some of our leading sportspersons, including the unbelievably talented Springbok flanker Heinrich Brussow and Boy Soke, our athletics sensation with his national colours in track and field, cross country and road running.

Closing the book on Reitz

But this history, as is the case with all South African universities, is not unblemished.

About 100 metres to the left of where I stand, is the famous Abraham Fischer Residence (affectionately called Vishuis), named after the father of the younger Fischer. This century-old student residence is living testimony to a proud history of the University of the Free State.

About 100 metres directly behind me is the Reitz student residence, a place of infamy that brought great shame to our university and unprecedented outrage to our country as the world saw four young white men racially humiliate five black workers.

In the past few months I have visited the grounds of Reitz often in an attempt to understand how such an atrocity could have been committed on the grounds of an institution of higher learning. I believe I now have part of the answer, and that answer has important implications for how we move towards healing, forgiveness and social justice on our campus and in our country.

You see, the biggest mistake made in the analysis of Reitz is to explain the incident in terms of individual pathology. Yet to dismiss the video as a product of four bad apples is too easy an explanation. This video recording was preceded by a long series of racial incidents protesting racial integration especially in the residences of the university. Not all of these racially charged incidents made the press; in fact, had it not been for the public release of the video recording, no-one outside the university would have known about it. And few outside the campus realise that what is now regarded as an offensive video production in fact won an award from the residence for its content.

The question facing us, therefore, is a disturbing one, and it is this: What was it within the institution that made it possible for such an atrocity to be committed in the first place?

And there are other questions. Why is it that one after another parent and colleague have come to tell me that the incident was, and I quote, "blown out of proportion?" Why is it that so many adults came to tell me that it was Oros, and not urine, as if it mattered in the simulated act of boys urinating into food? What must I make of the many representations to my office to inform me that the boys, I quote again, "loved the squeezas and brought them food from their parents' farms?"

When the focus of analysis shifts from that of individual pathology to one of institutional culture, then it becomes clear that the problem of Reitz is not simply a problem of four racially troubled students. It is, without question, a problem of institutional complicity.

For this reason it is also clear that the deeper issues of racism and bigotry that conflict our university ? and many others ? will not be resolved in the courts. Whoever wins and loses in the Reitz case, I will still wake up on Monday morning dealing with the same social, cultural and ideological complexities that stand in the way of transformation ? unless we do something differently (more about that in a minute).

On page three: Vice-Chancellor Jansen apologises on behalf of the university and maps the way forward.

Issued by the University of the Free State, 16 October 2009.