A I Volume 10 No. 2 Summer 1988/89 ARTICLES Clive Glaser Students, Tsotsis and the Congress Youth League: Youth Organisation on the Rand in the 1940's and 1950's David Brown Speaking in Tongues: Apartheid and Language in South Africa Peter Kallaway The Zwaartkops Government Industrial Native School in Natal, 1886-1892. An Experiment in Colonial Education REVIEWS AND DEBATE fSET in SA: Issues and Directions Black Matriculation Results Teacher Unity Talks Big Business and the rits University Council ing Pre-colonial History i w © - Editors: Linda Chisholm and Mastin Prinsloo Assistant Editors: Joyce Hickson, Jonathan Hyslop, Richard Levin, Johan Muller and Charles Potter Management and Production: Lesley Coetzee Regional Associate Editors: Mogamed Ajam: University of the Western Cape; Peter Buckland: University of Bophutatswana; Yousuf Gabru: University of Cape Town; Mike Hart: University of Natal, Pietermaritzburg; Peter Kallaway: University of Cape Town; Benito Khotseng: University of the North, Qwa Qwa; Peter Kota: University of Fort Hare; David Masekela: University of the North; Thebogo Moja: University of Bophutatswana Consulting Editors: Michael Apple: University of Wisconsin-Madison, USA; Madeleine Arno Open University, UK; Michael Ashley: University of Cape Town; Basil Berr University of London, UK; Keith Chick: University of Natal, Durban; Marg C University of British Columbia, Canada; Andre du Toit: University of Cape Town; Michael Katz: University of Pennsylvania, USA; Es’kia Mphahlele: University of the Witwatersrand; Bill Nasson: University of Cape Town; Njabulo Ndebele: University of Roma, Lesotho; Jack Niven: University of Natal, Pietermaritzburg; Mokubung Nkomo: University of North Carolina, Charlotte, USA; John Samuel: SACHED Trust, Johannesburg; John Watt: Murdoch University, Australia; Michael Young: University of London, UK Perspectives in Education is published twice a year by the Faculty of Education of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg, and incorporates the Johannesburg Education journal Symposium. Editorial Correspondence: Faculty of Education, University of the Witwatersrand, PO Wits, Johannesburg Africa Printers: Ultra Litho (Pty) Limited, 11 St George Street, Lakeview, Johannesbi ISSN 0258 2236 V PERSPECTIVES IN EDUCATION, 1988/9, VOL. 10, NO. 2 Contents Articles Students, Tsotsis and the Congress Youth League: Youth Organisation on the Rand in the 1940s and 1950s Clive Glaser 1 Colonial Education in Natal: The Zwaartkop Government Native School, 1888-1892 Peter Kallaway 17 Speaking in Tongues: Apartheid and Language in South Africa David Brown 33 History Workshop Papers Popularizing the Precolonial Past: Politics and Problems John Wright 47 The Struggle for Control over the Voices of the Past and the Socialising Role of Precolonial History: Perspectives on the Production of Precolonial Education Materials Carolyn Hamilton and Helen Webster 53 Reviews, Documents and Debate Schools, Unemployment and Youth: Origins and Significance of Student and Youth Movements, 1976 -1987 Jonathan Hyslop 61 University of the Witwatersrand Ltd.: Big Business Connections and Influence on the University Council Rupert Taylor 71 Reviews 77 Documents 113 Notes on Contributors 121 v • Editorial Policy The policy of the editors of Perspectives in Education is to promote rigorous critical discussion and debate about education (in the broadest sense of the word) particularly in the context of Southern Africa, through the publication of academic articles based on original theoretical and empirical research and analysis. Perspectives in Education attempts to reflect the variety of perspectives current in the field, and publishes both discipline-based and inter-disciplinary research. In order to ensure all articles are of the highest quality all contributions are submitted to as least two referees before acceptance for publication and decision to publish is based on their recommendations. The editors affirm their unequivocal rejection of all discriminatory principles and practices in education, and in particular their rejection of the racist and discriminatory features of the South African system. They furthermore express their commitment to a single non-racial education system to be established by the democratic participation of all South Africa’s people which will provide for the development of their full potential. PERSPECTIVES IN EDUCATION, 1988/9, VOL. 10, NO. 2,1 - 15 Students, Tsotsis and the Congress Youth League: Youth Organisation on the Rand in the 1940s and 1950s Clive Glaser University of the Witwatersrand This paper examines the organizational strategies of the Congress Youth League (CYL) from 1944 until 1955. Until 1948 the CYL was self-consciously a tight clique but from 1948 onwards attempted to become a mass movement. Its central aim was always to expand its influence within the African National Congress (ANC) and thereby, advance the cause of African Nationalism. The CYL never succeeded in becoming a mass movement largely because its constituency was limited almost entirely to African high school children. High school children were a marginal element amongst the broader youth constituency in Johannesburg’stownships. The CYL made no systematic attempt to organize and "convert" the far larger, and culturally pervasive, constituency of tsotsi youth gangs. Certain CYL individuals, however, established informal links with the urban youth gangs and enjoyed sporadic success in drawing them into organized political resistance. On the whole, the CYL organised only amongst a marginal element of Johannesburg’s youth population. The gangs were seen as incorrigibly a-political and anti-social. In contemporary South African struggles youths clearly constitute the most militant and politicized section of the urban African population. Youth congresses and Student Representative Councils (SRC’s), firmly affiliated and aligned to national movements such as the United Democratic Front (UDF), abound. Nevertheless, "the youth" are by no means a homogenous constituency. Huge sections of the youth remain unorganized while largely a political criminal elements have a powerful presence. A number of questions remain unanswered about the relationship between organized and unorganized youth in the townships as well as about the nature of contemporary youth mobilisation. This paper attempts to lay the foundations for addressing these questions by tracing the origins of urban African youth mobilization in Johannesburg. This will involve an analysis of the work of the African National Congress (ANC) Youth League (CYL), the first significant resistance organisation which attempted to organise youth as a specific constituency. The Congress Youth League (CYL) started out in 1944 as a militant pressure group within the African National Congress (ANC) and made few attempts at largcscale recruitment. In 1948, the leadership of the CYL began to realise that they needed more signed up members in order to become a more effective internal pressure group and commenced a vigorous recruitment drive. Once the CYL effectively seized control of the ANC in 1949 and many of its leaders took up leadership positions in the senior body, the CYL continued to operate more as a youth recruitment wing of the ANC than as a distinctive organisation. Most informed observers of the Youth League today recognize that the organization operated within a fairly narrow social framework, and that it was not particularly successful in establishing a genuine mass base amongst the youth. The urban African youth on the Rand in the late 40s and 50s were divided into two distinct worlds. On the one hand, there was the Christian-literate world which was generally school-going. On the other hand, there was the semi-literate, tsotsi dominated world which generally rejected schooling. The latter constituency was substantially.largcr than the former. The edges of these categories were often blurred. Many youths passed from one world into the other, while some managed to 2 CLIVE GLASER live in both simultaneously. But the worlds were, on the whole, clearly distinguishable from one another and crossed class lines. The CYL, I argue, because of its institutional connections and intellectualism, operated almost entirely within the Christian-literate, school-going world. In the first section of this paper I will briefly examine the CYL’s established organisational networks during the late 1940s and 50s. In the second section I will move to a more grassroots perspective in attempting to create a picture of the African youth constituency on the Rand in the 1940s and 50s. Finally, I will assess the extent to which the CYL, as the wing of the national liberation movement most concerned with African youth, penetrated the African youth constituency organizationally. The Congress Youth League in the schools High school students were the Youth League’s key constituency. Young educated Africans looking forward to widening their stake in a future South Africa provided an obvious recruiting ground for the CYL. Many of the original Youth Leaguers first became politicized as school students, for example, Anton Lembede and A.P. Mda. Anton Lembede was the first leader of the CYL and, in many ways, the founding father of the "Africanist" tradition. He was a powerful and influential ideologue who died in 1947. A. P. Mda, the natural successor to Lembede, was also an influential figure ideologically who lead the CYL after Lembede’s death until 1949 when he resigned owing to ill health. Congress Mbata, William Nkomo and Raboroko, founding members of the CYL, were all prominent in the Transvaal Student Association (TSA) prior to the formation of the CYL. "So we could say that products of the students organisations became the nucleus for organisations like the Youth League..."2 The TSA was not an overtly political body in the 30s and 40s. It was more of a "social" organization than a "political" one. Nevertheless, a great deal of political discussion took place within the TSA and it is likely that the political ideas of Lembede, Mda and their colleagues were formulated in this grouping. The Youth Leaguers must have been particularly familiar with the mood and internal workings of student associations and schools. Moreover, they understood that students were highly receptive to politicization. The CYL used this familiar network to reproduce itself: Most of the "second generation" CYL activists who operated in the 50s were influenced by, and incorporated into, the CYL while attending school. Students on the Rand, and particularly in Orlando, were heavily influenced by the Youth League. The CYL staged numerous meetings on the Rand during the 1940s which were well attended by students.3 Godfrey Pitje, who became president of the CYL in 1949 largely because most of the important leadership figures in the CYL became leaders of the ANC, recalls the high level of politicization amongst school children when he taught at Orlando High in 1945: One of the things which struck me was the advancement of the average student politically compared to us on the staff... I didn’t realise it then, but I know now, that it was because they were under the influence of the Youth League. They were attending meetings by the likes of Lembede, A. P. Mda, Oliver Tambo, Nelson Mandela, Walter Sisulu... Es’kia Mphahlele during the recollection of his teaching on the Rand in the 40s confirms this impression of Pitje’s. When Mphahlele was teaching in the 40s a number of senior students "were very much interested in the Youth League and were talking about it in class". He recalls that one senior student got up in class to announce the death of Anton Lembede in 1947. Lembede was highly praised and there was great interest in the classroom.5 CONGRESS YOUTH LEAGUE 3 Teachers formed an important component of the CYL in the Transvaal. This is not to suggest that most of the teachers on the Rand were Youth Leaguers or even Youth League sympathisers. In fact, teachers were a largely a-political constituency. Nevertheless, a number of prominent Leaguers were teachers at one stage or another. Oliver Tambo and Godfrey Pitje were teachers before they became lawyers, and Robert Sobukwe, Zeph Mothopeng and Es’kia Mphahlele were all teachers on the Rand during the 50s. These teachers used their profession as a platform for politicizing their students, despite their vulnerability as employees of the Transvaal Education Department. Teachers with strong Youth League connections, such as Sobukwe, Tambo and Pitje, were very influential in their classrooms. Sobukwe, in 1949, invited Ntatho Motlana, who was an active CYL organiser at the time, to come and speak to his students at his school in Standerton. Sobukwe took many risks to politicize his students and became "a tremendous influence in his area.”6 During his brief teaching spell on the Rand in 1950, Pitje made an effort to "revive the spirit of African culture" in his classroom. He would instil in his students a love of the "traditional ways of doing things". He would tell them about a proud African history and call them by their traditional African names rather than their Christian names. Students perceived Pitje as different from the other teachers and they became "very receptive" to his kind of teaching. Pitje rejected subservience to "Western ways". He recalls that instead of praying in the traditional Christian way, he would praise African historical leaders. At assembly prayers, Pitje would put his fist in the air and pray to "The God of Chaka, the God of Sckhukhune". Students were initially surprised by this behaviour but, ultimately, accepted it warmly.7 When Dume Nokwe and Kathrada returned from their visit to China, Pitje organized for his senior pupils to go and speak to Nokwe at a meeting where "they spoke freely about Mao Tse Tung”. Pitje was also able to introduce ANC slogans to the school such as "Mayibuye!" and "Africa to the Africans!". Pitje refused to be obsequious towards white officials. He treated them as equals, to the great delight of his students. Pitje recalls: ... when a white inspector came to my school, instead of cringing like the average principal, the average teacher .. I [would act] as naturally as I could ... And the students loved this, they hero-worshipped us for doing this kind of thing ... Mothopeng was hero-worshipped at Orlando High.8 The CYL often used teachers to penetrate the schools. It would "find sympathy with one or two members of the staff and in that way build [its] base".9 Teachers were generally a-political in the 40s and 50s but there was usually a small core of politicized, CYL-sympathctic teachers at every school on the Rand. At Mphahlcle’s school, Orlando High, four teachers out of a staff of 35 were politicized; two of these belonged to the Youth League. At other schools on the Witwatersrand, there was also "always a small minority of teachers who were politically vocal and politically conscious and talked politics in the staffroom". Nonetheless the small group of politicized teachers were highly influential amongst the students.10 Thus, teachers were able to have some wider impact on the rest of the community. "The students", comments Pitje, "... were well placed in the community to sow the seeds of this new political solution [African Nationalism]". Although the teacher-pupil interaction was important, the CYL did most of its organizing amongst school students outside of the school environment. School authorities were consistently hostile to any fonn of political penetration. Students, teachers and outsiders involved in politics could be victimized or removed with ease. "Political teachers" had to tread very cautiously.11 Student Representative Councils were non-existent on the 4 CLIVE GLASER Rand in the 40s and 50s.12 For Motlana, student associations provided the most useful avenue for making contact with school students. Because of the hostility of the school environment, Motlana would do most of his organising through student associations during the holidays. According to Motlana this was the most common method of organizing for Youth League activists. Motlana’s "beat" was the East Rand, stretching from Germiston to Nigel. He would go around forming little pockets of CYL supporters and then try to get them to establish an autonomous branch which could then expand itself and spread the programme and ideology of the CYL. The period 1950 - 1952, according to Motlana, was a period of great activity for Youth League branch level activists. Once a core group of around ten new activists had been established they were considered large enough to set up a new branch. This would involve electing their own secretary and treasurer and acting autonomously from other branches.13 Another method of spreading CYL influence in the schools was through pamphleteering. This was safer than personal organising as pamphlets could be left around the schools anonymously. The CYL then, had several ways of appealing to school students and establishing new branches amongst them. Individual politicized teachers were influential in the classroom, while hundreds of students were attracted to the mass meetings conducted by high profile CYL leaders. Most importantly, branches were set up through links with student associations. The only coherent constituency of the Youth League was school students. Apart from schools, the CYL’s only significant area of operation was Fort Hare University. The Youth League established, at best, personalized, ad hoc relations with church groups, professional associations and local community movements. The CYL appears to have been unadventurous in building links with potential constituencies. It was also hamstrung by its limited number of activists. It organized within the section of society it knew best, the section from which the CYL leadership itself emerged. During the 1950s, the CYL failed to explore new avenues of potential mobilization amongst youth. Instead, it spent most of its energy on popularizing ANC campaigns. To the extent that it did organize youth, it continued to operate almost entirely amongst school students. Youth on the Rand High school students represented by no means the majority of urban African youths on the Rand. (By "youths", I refer to those aged roughly between 14 and 21.) Most students dropped out of school at an early age, while thousands never attended school at all.14 Schooling was not compulsory in the 1940s and 1950s, nor was it affordable for the majority of urban African families. Schooling was a luxury. Nevertheless, amongst the Christianized elements, schooling was "virtually compulsory".15 Most Christian parents, whether petty bourgeois or working class, revered western-style education and sent their children to school at all costs. Numerous non-Christian parents also prioritized education. But parents did not always have sufficient control over their children to ensure their attendance at school. Schooling, expecially amongst the non-Christian elements, was far from an accepted way of life for African youths. Even those youths who did undergo a substantial amount of schooling found it extremely difficult to find employment afterwards. A huge section of the unemployed and non-schoolgoing youths drifted into youth gangs. "By the early 1950s the culture of youth gangs was one of the strongest currents running through the locations."16 CONGRESS YOUTH LEAGUE 5 The Roots of Tsotsi Culture Three factors contributed to the prevalence of youth gangs on the Rand: low levels of school attendance amongst urban youth, massive youth unemployment and the instability of family life. All three factors, of course, had deeper roots in state policies: migrant labour, influx control and the hopelessly inadequate allocation of social welfare resources to the African townships. In the year 1949 only 6 533 African children attended secondary school in Pretoria and on the Rand. I have no comparative figures for the 1950s. However, it is likely that this figure remained fairly stable throughout the decade. The total Union secondary school attendance figure in 1949 was 46 314.17 By 1960 the Union total had actually decreased slightly to 45 598.18 Unless Pretoria and Rand school attendance patterns were drastically different from those of the rest of the Union, it is safe to assume that African secondary school attendance on the Rand and in Pretoria remained below 7 000 throughout the 1950s. Schoolgoers, then, represented an extremely small proportion of the African urban population aged between 14 and 20. Attendance at junior and primary schools was much greater. Roughly 10% of African scholars were high school students. School attendance dropped off rapidly in each progressive year of schooling. On the Rand and in Pretoria in 1949 there were 18 478 Sub A pupils, 10 899 Sub B pupils down to 3 770 Standard Five pupils. There were only 820 Standard Seven pupils and 63 matriculants.19 There were three basic reasons for low school attendance and early school leaving. First, schooling was not compulsory and there were far too few schools to accommodate even those children who did want to attend school.20 Secondly, the quality of education was low. Children rejected inferior, unstimulating schooling. The de Villiers Louw Commission of 1950 recognized this. The standard of schooling was so bad, the commission complained, that children preferred to join youth gangs.21 Moreover, schooling was impractical. A school education did not necessarily improve a school-leaver’s employment opportunities. The de Villiers Louw Commission recognized this too. The commission recommended that schooling should provide skills more immediately necessary to the economy. Children would then be employable once they left school and they would recognize the value of attending school. Thirdly, most urban African families could not afford to send their children to school. Children were pressurized from an early age into becoming economically active. Parents often preferred to have their children contributing to the family income rather than wasting their time at school. Thus "children were either rejecting schooling as useless, or were compelled by economic necessity to find work". A Native Youth Board Investigation in 1950 estimated "conservatively" that the number of unemployed youths of employable age (14-20 years) in the Johannesburg area was over 20 000. This apparently amounted to almost 80% of Johannesburg’s African juvenile population in 1950.24 In a thesis written in 1952, W.J. Kieser, a Principal of Diefkloof Reformatory in the 1950s, computed that there were "about 120 000 Native children of school-going age idling away their days in the streets or standing aimlessly about the locations of the City and the Reef'.25 Probably the most important reason for urban youth unemployment was the competition urban youths faced from migrants on the job market. Employers on the Rand, despite influx control legislation, preferred to employ migrants rather than local youths. Migrants tended to be more acquiescent, "respectful" and reliable than their urban counterparts. They were also more amenable to hard physical work. Furthermore, they were prepared to accept lower wages. Employers of both industrial and domestic labour tended to feel this way. An 6 CLIVE GLASER official letter to the Johannesburg Regional Employment Commissioner, written byWJ.P. Carr in 1955, Johannesburg’s Manager of Native Affairs, stated that: Native juveniles who are urbanized, are often unreliable, work-shy and selective in their choice of a job - many prefer to exist by gambling and other nefarious means, and make little or no contribution to the maintenance of their families ... Employers because of these facts, are unwilling to employ native juveniles.27 There was clearly some truth in these allegations but the unemployment problem was exacerbated by these very impressions of the employers. Employers were usually prejudiced towards urban youths and unwilling to give them a chance.28 Employers often by-passed local labour bureaux and employed directly through contacts in the countryside. Throughout the 1940s and early 1950s municipal authorities throughout the Pretoria Witwatersrand and Vaal Triangle (PWV) generally turned a blind eye to these breaches of influx control in order to avoid discouraging local industry.29 Domestic employers, like industrialists, preferred to employ rural workseekers, thus restricting the chief avenue of employment open to female urban youths. 0 In general, both male and female urban youth found it virtually impossible to penetrate the industrial and domestic labour market in any significant way. The greater the influx of rural work-seekers, the smaller was the potential job market for urban youths. First, urban youths had very little experience of, and were apparently less willing to do hard, physical work. Secondly, the Wage Board fixed wage levels for juveniles. Industrialists might have been more amenable to employing urban youths if they could have paid them wages below the levels fixed by the Wage Board. Since wages were fixed, employers were determined to find the most productive possible workers.31 The attitutc of urban youths towards employment was also influenced by youth gang culture. Tsotsi culture rejected job discipline, hard work and "respectable" employment. Moreover, youth gangs provided an alternative means of survival for urban youths. The need to find employment was therefore less urgent. Unemployment and youth gang culture mutually reinforced one another. Unemployment was a far more conceivable option for urban youths with the existence of youth gangs. Simultaneously, unemployment swelled the ranks of the tsotsi gangs. The Viljoen Report of 1951 noted a direct causal link between unemployment and the prevalence of tsotsi gangs. "Juveniles out of employment develop spontaneously into Tsotsis in order to find an outlet for their energies as well as a means of earning a livelihood by illegal means". The phenomenon of early school leaving also swelled the ranks of youth gangs. Not only did it add pressure to the unemployment problem but it ensured that young children came into daily contact with "undesirable types". Moreover, children were more susceptible to tsotsi influences when they were no longer subjected to the disciplinary effects of the school environment.32 Throughout the 1940s and 1950s urban African families were tremendously unstable. Several factors contributed to this. First, workers were constantly on the move, looking for new or better-paid jobs. African workers were generally unskilled which ensured a high job turnover. Secondly, the migrant labour system and the implementation of pass laws often broke up family units. Thirdly, there was a disproportionately large population of males in relation to females. Relationships, then, were often casual and children rarely experienced a stable family environment. Parents, even if they retained a commitment to their children, were usually at work all day. The Viljoen Report pointed out that there was also an absence of tribal youth control mechanisms which both kept youth "in their place" and imbued them with a sense of CONGRESS YOUTH LEAGUE 7 social responsibility. Tsotsi culture was boosted by the lack of parental attendance and guidance. As Bonner puts it: "For a significant proportion of [urban youth] the normal socialising and disciplinary agencies were either atrophied or absent ... Into this moral void stepped the gangs. Tsotsi Culture By the early 1950s, African locations on the Rand were riddled with tsotsi gangs earning a livelihood through criminal activities. They emerged during the 1940s in the old free-hold townships of Sophiatown, Newclare and Alexandra. The phenomenon rapidly spread to other townships. During the 1950s practically every African township on the Rand was terrorized by local tsotsi gangs. There were several large and famous gangs such as the Americans of Sophiatown, the Berliners of Newclare, the Spoilers of Alexandra and the Torch Gang of Orlando. But most of the gangs were small splinter gangs. In Orlando, there were apparendy small "peer group" gangs on practically every street comer.36 In Alexandra alone there were six major gangs with a combined membership of over 500 youths, as well as numerous smaller gangs. Individuals had to prove their loyalty before becoming full members of gangs. They were first drawn into the gangs’ patronage networks and gradually initiated. By 1951 Tsotsi gangs had "developed a distinct counter-culture".39 The Viljoen Report of 1951 explained the term tsotsi as follows: Tsotsis are gangs of Native juveniles, the members of which are predominantly unemployed and are characterized by the fact that they wear the same distinctive clothing, make use of the same secret language, have strong group consciousness, and live largely by illegal means.40 Tsotsis rejected schooling, parental authority and "western civilized values". Mr M Thalakula, the principle of an African high school in Springs, described the average tsotsi gang in his area: The group consists of boys ranging from 15 years to 20 and more, and their chief characteristic is their refusal to work for a living. Even in their own homes they refuse to take part in any ordinary family activities except eating. In order to get pocket money they gamble and pick the pockets of their own people by night and those of European shoppers during the busy hours of the day. From their class come the future criminals.41 The gangs then, developed their own distinctive leisure time activities, social norms, hierarchies, language and means of subsistance. Gang culture was influenced by cowboy and gangster films. Tsotsis spent a great deal of their time loitering around their local cinemas. They often fought other gangs to establish territorial rights over cinemas. Movie images deeply influenced their style and behaviour.42 Tsotsis were distinctly anti-social. They rejected all forms of authority and parental control. The de Villiers Louw Commission grumbled that "they thrive on disorderliness and are famed creators of disorder".43 In 1956, W.J.P. Carr commented: "... tsotsi gangs ... flout authority and frustrate the efforts of parents and advisory board members in their attempts to rehabilitate the youths".44 Tsotsis did not ̂ threaten the authorities alone. By the late 1940s tsotsis preyed on their own communities. According to Mphahlele, "they really threatened the whole fabric of society, wherever they were, wherever they lived ... At night time people always wanted to be in their houses before dark . They molested people in the streets and mugged people in trains and trams throughout the Rand. They showed little concern whether their victims 8 CLIVE GLASER were whites or Africans, rich or poor. Gangs also preyed on each other. Inter gang warfare was common. They fought and competed amongst each other over women and "territory". Gambling often sparked off inter-gang violence. Most frequently, they fought over crime monopolies. For instance, they would fight for exclusive rights to rob from a certain section of domestic servants or visitors who would enter the locations on the weekends. By the early 1950s the state, both local and central, became increasingly anxious about the youth problem of the Rand. It recognized that welfare organizations were inadequate to cope with the problem. Large scale state intervention was needed. The de Villiers Louw Commission of 1950, which was appointed to investigate acts of African violence in Krugersdorp, Newclare, Randfontein and Newlands, identified youth gangs as major catalysts of violence in all these locations.46 In 1951, the Inter-departmental Committee on Native Juvenile Unemployment was established. This committee was aimed at investigating the extent of, and the reasons for, juvenile unemployment on the Rand and in Pretoria. The committee established that there were direct links between juvenile unemployment and "tsotsism".41 The central state apparently identified African juvenile unemployment, which led to "tsotsism", as politically threatening. Following the Viljoen Report, the central state showed tremendous interest in finding employment for African youth on the Rand. It attempted to provide the Johannesburg municipal government with active assistance in this regard. In February 1953 the Director of Native Labour and representatives from the Central Labour Bureau met with local state officials to discuss the issue. Central government officials called for greater co-ordination between local and central state.48 The central state was eager to handle the problem in a forceful way. It offered assistance to local labour bureaux wherever possible. The central government was convinced that the tsotsi problem could best be combatted through overcoming African juvenile unemployment. At the 1953 meeting between local and central government labour officials, the state decided to embark on a three-pronged strategy, based largely on the recommendations of the Viljoen Report, to combat juvenile unemployment on the Rand. First, ... it was the intention of the Minister of Labour to grant to those industries employing juveniles exemption from the various wa^e instruments to allow of (sic) the payment of a lower wage than that applicable to adults. It was hoped that more local juveniles would be employed if Wage Board instruments were removed. Second, the Department of Labour committed itself to exploring avenues for juvenile employment in commerce and industry ”... and to endeavour to persuade commerce and industry to give preference in filling such vacancies to location youths in preference to youths from the rural areas or Native Territories".50 Finally, the central government intended to place the allocation of jobs on the Rand more firmly under Central Labour Bureau control. All workseekers had to be officially registered at the local labour bureaux which, in turn, had to supply the Central Labour Bureau with regular reports on job registration and job placement. This fitted into the Central Labour Bureau’s plan to screen out illegal migrant workseekers and encourage the employment of urban juveniles.51 In mid 1953, the Johannesburg Department of Native Affairs launched a juvenile employment drive. Initially, it had some success. Of the 17 987 African juveniles (16 to 21 years of age) registered as unemployed, between September 1953 and April 1954, 15 197 found employment.52 The official surplus was only 2 790, but of course thousands of youths managed to avoid registration.53 The figures for 1955 showed a marked increase in the official surplus. Between February and October 1955,38 695 urban juveniles were officially CONGRESS YOUTH LEAGUE 9 registered as workseekers, while only 23 396 were placed in employment. A balance of 15 299 failed to find employment.54 These figures probably indicate a tightening up of registration procedures between April 1954 and February 1955, rather that a deterioration in juvenile employment over this period. In fact, the number of job placements was significantly higher during 1955. Nevertheless, the Secretary of Native Affairs, van Rensburg, was angry and perplexed about the 1955 juvenile umemployment figures. He demanded an explanation and more details from the Johannesburg Registration Officer.55 It seems likely that the state’s need to curb the tsotsi gangs contributed to the general tightening up of influx control in the early 1950s. Youth gangs seriously hampered the state s ability to control the townships. Moreover, the authorities strongly suspected that youth gangs could become dangerous political tools of the liberation movement.56 Throughout the 1940s, even under National Party leadership after 1948, the state never seriously challenged industrialists in the PWV area who employed workers from the rural areas. More accurately, local government turned a blind eye to those employment practices. The central state lacked the resources to intervene directly. Municipal governments in the PWV came under pressure from the Department of Native Affairs to tighten up on influx control but were generally able to resist this pressure. When tsotsi gangs started to present a serious control problem in the townships in the early 1950s, municipal governments started to clamp down on the influx of rural workseekers. In Johannesburg, the central state also took firmer contol over the municipal Council’s influx control practices. The state encouraged local industrialists to absorb the available pool of local juvenile labour.57 It hoped that this would curb the growth of tsotsi gangs. Tsotsis, it seems, were a big enough issue to influence influx control strategies in the 1950s. Tsotsis and the Congress Youth League Youth gangs , comments Bonner, "were street-wise, anti-social and suspicious, but they represented a potentially powerful political resource for any aspiring political leader". According to Mphahlele and Motlana, the political potential of these street gangs was minimal. Basically they were out for themselves ... They had to learn how to survive and make a living and also to create a power structure of some kind in the crime world". The gangs had little interest in politics.59 The authorities, however, were convinced that tsotsis were mobilized politically. The de Villiers Louw Commission provided evidence of youth gang involvement in political activities. During the Newlands tram boycott of August-September 1949, for instance, tramway officials reported ... that Native youths were stoning all tram cars". Youths apparently assaulted several Newlands residents who attempted to use the trams.60 In October 1949, riots broke out in Krugersdorp in response to police liquor raids and the extension of passes to women. Here, too, the Commission was convinced of youth gang involvement: The clearest evidence was placed before the Commission that organized gangs of youths took a leading part in acts of violence during the riots. They acted in concert and achieved definite results. No evidence was adduced as to whether these youths had leaders who instructed them but evidence generally seemed to point to tsotsi gangs - gangs of youths who propogate lawlessness and disorder. The Commission then went on, inevitably, to attribute these acts of violence to "communist instigation . Communists "clandestinely and in places of vantage urged irresponsible youths and scholars to acts of violence".62 10 CLIVE GLASER There is some evidence that youth gangs were involved in these kinds of activities throughout the 1950s.63 Clearly, then, tsotsis did involve themselves in political activities. But could they be politically mobilized? Bonner comments: Would-be mobilizers had to strike a responsive chord in the collective consciousness of the gangs, and this was not necessarily easily accomplished by the intelligentsia leading most of the political groups. The most effective mobilizers were predictably those who were schooled in street culture themselves. The Congress Youth League saw itself as a mass youth movement and, on an official level, expressed interest in linking up with every type of youth organization. In its 1944 Manifesto the CYL stated that it would be "a co-ordinating agency for all youthful forces employed in rousing popular political consciousness and fighting oppression ...". It committed itself "to win over and persuade other Youth organizations to come over to the ANCYL". In an official document published in June 1954, the CYL reiterated its commitment to establish contact with as many youth organizations as possible. Where such bodies already exist it is our task to co-operate with, strengthen and give guidance to such bodies. Branches should keep personal and active contact with all established Youth Organisations in their locations. To what extent did the CYL carry out this commitment? Were tsotsi gangs even recognized as "Youth Organizations"? Bonner provides the best evidence to date of co-operation between the CYL and youth gangs. His evidence is based on the oral testimony of a certain "AB". AB was involved in youth gangs throughout the 1940s and early 1950s. AB was an exceptional tsotsi in that he took education seriously. He studied at night school and in 1946 he was employed by a Benoni attorney. He became a widely respected youth gang leader on the East Rand, largely as a result of his leading role in anti-Indian violence. In the early 1950s AB was apparently approached by a prominent ANC leader, who recognized AB s leadership qualities and drew him into the local CYL branch. He soon moved into a leadership position in the Benoni CYL. AB was in a unique position of having contacts in both the youth underworld and the educated political elite. AB was able to convince several Benoni gangs of the importance of political involvement, and proceeded to draw them into the ANC. AB ... brought his gangs firmly within the orbit of the ANC and they provided the shock troops for much of the rest of tire decade. Operating under the name of Thaka Enyane (Young Black Soldiers) they were mobilized into most of the ANC’s later campaigns. Between 1953 and 1955 the ANC in Benoni became rejuvenated. AB’s gangs were heavily involved in the 1954 Bantu Education boycott in Benoni. In April 1954, they were active in preventing children from attending school. The Bantu Education boycott was particularly successful in Benoni. "AB, the Youth League and the youth gangs were at the centre of its organization". AB was eventually deported but youth gangs continued to operate effectively within the ANC in Benoni until 1960. Despite this evidence of CYL-youth gang co-operation in Benoni, the CYL never made any formal contact with youth gangs.68 While Motlana was secretary of the Youth League, from late 1949 until 1952, no official approaches were made to the gangs. "No attempt was made to get at them and ... redirect their ways. In those days we just regarded them as criminals".69 In fact, the issue was never openly discussed at Youth League meetings or CONGRESS YOUTH LEAGUE 11 placed on meeting agendas. Mphahlele and Motlana, however, were aware of occasional informal individualized contact between the CYL and gangs. Pitje also acknowledged that contact may well have been made at the branch level "without his realizing it". Motlana knew of incidents in which CYL members approached individual tsotsis and attempted to change their ways". Mphahlele recalls that individuals were occasionally informally criticized within the ANC and CYL for "meddling with tsotsis" in the early 1950s. Most ANC members recoiled from the idea "because tsotsis couldn’t be controlled...”. In 1952, some young unemployed youths, often with tsotsi connections, did get involved in the Defiance Campaign.70 The CYL made some localized attempts to link up to youth gangs during the Defiance Campaign. "There was an attempt to recruit them." Branch leadership spoke to gang leaders but, although a few individuals were recruited, success was "minimal". Whatever contacts were made during the Defiance Campaign were not sustained. They seemed to "peter out".71 According to Mphahlele and Motlana, the ANC’s most sustained attempt to politicize gangs occurred during the 1954 Sophiatown removals. CYL activists went out to woo these gangs consciously. Branch level leaders certainly saw some potential in mobilizing these gangs against the removals. Robert Resha, a member of the CYL executive, spoke to several Sophiatown gang leaders at the time. There was a certain amount of co-operation between the CYL and gangs during the removals but the alliance was a transient one. The gangs were never really politicized; they were "a whole lot of undisciplined youth" who recognized a temporary convergence of interests between themselves and the Youth League. Prior to 1954 Youth League activists in Sophiatown actually participated in the establishment of a local civil guard aimed at combating tsotsi activity. Crime was a major concern of older generation township residents in the early 1950s. Modana and Resha helped to organize the civil guard, which was led by a man named Mathebe. Vigilantes patrolled the streets regularly. Crime was temporarily removed from the Sophiatown streets. Interestingly, then, Youth League activists saw crime as an important local issue. Clearly, they abandoned their youth constituency in Sophiatown. Instead of trying to redirect local tsotsis into political, more socially orientated activities, Motlana and Resha joined forces with the older generation residents in their attempt to crush tsotsis. Tsotsis were not considered as potential political allies in Sophiatown until the 1954 removals. Although the CYL recognized that the social environment was responsible for crime in the locations, the most coherent stand it took on the crime issue was to complain that the South African Police were not taking strong enough action against tsotsis.12 Pitje, Motlana and Mphahlele all confirm that tsotsis often involved themselves informally in ANC campaigns. During the Western Native Township, Sophiatown and Martindale tram boycotts, for instance, tsotsis could be trusted to board a tram and beat up those who were on the tram and in that way help to make the tram boycotts more effective".73 According to Motlana, elements of unemployed youths would often form the "storm troopers" of boycott campaigns and stayaways. But they all stress that tsotsi involvement was spontaneous. Tsotsis obviously identified closely with certain campaign issues and took their own initiatives to enforce adherence to boycotts. The Youth League never consciously attempted to organize tsotsis as "storm troopers". The general failure to politicize youth gangs can be attributed both to the anti-social nature of tsotsi culture and to the inability and unwillingness of the CYL intelligentsia to organize youth gangs. The CYL operated in a different cultural framework from that of the tsotsis who were identified as anti-social, a-political, aggressive outsiders. AB was an exceptional Youth League leader. Because he had grown up as a tsotsi, he was able "to 12 CLIVE GLASER strike a responsive chord in the collective consciousness of the gangs". AB’s story certainly demonstrates the political potential of youth gangs in the 1950s. Their sporadic and spontaneous involvement in political campaigns suggests an awareness of, and an interest in, political issues. Gangs had to be mobilized and redirected sensitively. AB showed that it was possible. The main body of the CYL, however, preferred to concentrate its activities amongst school students, a youth constituency which was much smaller than those youths who were situated broadly within the tsotsi cultural framework. Conclusion The CYL appealed to a relatively small constituency. They made little headway amongst the uneducated and semi-literate sections of the urban African population. Congress Mbata, one of the founding members of the CYL, acknowledged this: ... looking back at it now of course we inevitably quite unconsciously concentrated on people with education and the tone and perhaps content of our manifesto - one thinks now it couldn’t have meant much to the masses at the time. It was good to speak of Africa for the Africans but the man in the street would sa^ well yes, Africa for the Africans, so what? And we didn t have the answer to that ’so what?’ The CYL made an impact on a limited section of "the younger people”. Motlana concedes that the CYL’s appeal was largely confined to well-read students. The CYL’s political ideology "was high-falutin, high class stuff, intellectual stuff. Very attractive to young students like ourselves but it probably didn’t seep through to the ordinary workers . Motlana, assessing the CYL’s impact amongst semi-literate and unemployed youths, comments: ... the movement, I think one can say honestly, did not reach out to the ordinary young people who left school, who did not receive any education at all, who did not read the Rand Daily Mail... Apart from AB’s individual success story in Benoni, the Rand youth gangs remained largely isolated from African Nationalist politics during the 1940s and 1950s. It is probable that the Communist Party and the Pan African Congress made some attempts to mobilize the gangs politically, but more research needs to be done in this area. The youth gangs were not entirely a-political. It is clear that they had at least some political potential. A co-ordinated and culturally sensitive attempt was required by political movements to utilize this potential. Today, township youths are extraordinarily politicized and militant. Not only are they politicized but they have tended to align themselves closely with national political movements. In fact, it is safe to say that youths are the key political actors in contemporary South African politics. Youth congresses have emerged throughout the country which draw on support from youths across the economic and educational spectrum. The scenario, then, is very different from that of the 1940s and 1950s. Why is this? What has happened during the last two or three decades to bring about such a radical change in urban African youth culture? The historical connections between 1950s youth mobilisation and contemporary youth politics remain speculative. One possible explanation lies in the massive growth of Bantu Education. In 1960 about 46 000 Africans attended secondary school across the country. By 1970 this figure had risen to about 122 000 and by 1980, a startling 577 000 Africans attended secondary school. In 1984, there were just over one million African high school students, nationwide.75 Bantu Education had two important effects. First, schooling became CONGRESS YOUTH LEAGUE 13 much more available to African youths. Second, African schooling was brought under tighter state control. The quantitative expansion of schooling was not matched by a qualitative improvement in educational standards. African schooling became widely discredited amongst students. Under Bantu Education, it seems likely that two distinct urban youth cultures were drawn together in common defiance of the political order. Tsotsi culture was marginalized in the 1960s as a result of more accessible schooling as well as a massive state clampdown on Rand youth gangs in the late 1950s and early 1960s.77 Tsotsi culture must have been more or less absorbed into the schools. In the 1970s the potential job market for school leavers contracted, thus compounding the growing frustration of the school-going population. The fusion of youth cultures in Bantu Education schools during the 1960s requires a great deal of historical investigation. I would argue that the style of African youth politics today displays characteristics of both the Youth League tradition and 1950s tsotsi culture. The CYL tradition infused modem youth politics with a national movement and national programme orientation. Tsotsi culture, it seems, has helped to infuse youth politics with an anti-establishment aggression which was virtually absent in 1950s liberation politics. Notes and References 1. W. Nkomo, interviewed by T. Karis, Pretoria, April, 1964, Carter and Karis Collection Reel 13 A. 2. C. Mbata, interviewed by G.M. Carter, 19 February 1964, Carter and Karis Collection Reel 12 A. 3. G. Pitje, interview with author, Johannesburg, 23 September 1986; J. Hyslop, "The Orlando Teachers Struggle Against Bantu Education 1951-3, and the Subsequent Development of the Politics of the African Teaching Profession in the Transvaal", (unpublished paper, 1986), 12. 4. Pitje. 5. E. Mphahlele, interview with author, Johannesburg, 29 September 1986. 6. N. Motlana, interview with author, Johannesburg, 2 October 1986. 7. Pitje. Pitje’s use of African symbolism does not necessarily imply a departure from Western culture. He was, like most of his CYL colleagues, a highly westernized individual. It should be noted that Pitje was often identified as belonging to this Black Consciousness wing of the ANC which consistently emphasized the use of traditional African symbolism and imagery. 8. Pitje. Mothopeng, recently elected leader of the PAC, was active in the CYL in the late 40s and early 50s. 9. Ibid. 10. Mphahlele. 11. Mbata; and Motlana. 12. Mphahlele.. 13. Motlana. 14. See, Inter-departmental Committee on Native Juvenile Unemployment Report, 1951. 15. Pitje. By "Christianized" I do not necessarily mean that they were practising Christians. Rather, I refer to those elements of society which accepted Christian values. 16. See, P. Bonner, "Family, Crime and Political Consciousness on the East Rand 1939-1955" (unpublished paper presented at a conference on "Culture and Consciousness in Southern Africa", University of Manchester, 23-26 September 1986). 17. Inter-departmental Committee on Native Juvenile Unemployment Report, 1951. This figure is computed from a table headed "Number of Bantu Children in each Class in the Union and on the Rand and in Pretoria", 8. (Secondary school refers to Standard Six to Standard Ten.). 18. C. Bundy, "Street Sociology and Pavement Politics: Some Aspects of Student/Youth Consciousness during the 1985 Schools Crisis in Greater Cape Town" (unpublished paper presented at a conference on "Culture and Consciousness in Southern Africa, University of Manchester, 23-26 September 1986). This figure is taken from a table "The Expansion of 14 CLIVE GLASER 19. 20 . 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. African Education since 1960", 9. Inter-departmental Committee on Native Juvenile Unemployment Report, 1951 8. As early as 1944 this problem was recognized in an article on the front page of Umteteh Wa Bantu, 11 March 1944. A new Anglican Mission school was opened in Orlando with a capacity of 495. Hundreds of children apparently had to be turned away. In this article the newspaper complained that schooling was hopelessly inadequate on the Rand In the early 50s the Eiselen Report reiterated the shortage of schools for Africans throughout the country. Report of the Commission Appointed to Enquire into Acts of Violence Committed by Natives at Krugersdorp, Newlands, Randfontein and Newclare, chaired by J. de Villiers Louw, 1950, UG 47/1950, paragraph 189. Ibid., paragraph 190. Bonner, 15. » Inter-departmental Committee on Native Juvenile Unemployment Report, 1951,3. W.W.J. Kiescr, "Native Juvenile Delinquency" (M.. Ed., thesis, University of Potchefstioom, 1952), quoted in Freed, "The Problem of Crime in the Union of South Africa. (D. Phil, thesis, University of the Orange Free State, Bloemfontein, August 1958). Inter-departmental Committee on Native Juvenile Unemployment, Report, 1951; Bonner; and M. Chaskalson, "The Road to Sharpeville" (unpublished paper for African Studies Institute Seminar, September 1986). , 1Qr S W J P Carr letter, Manager to the Regional Employment Commissioner, 22 December 1956. File 401/25/1, "The Youth Problem, 1952-1961", WRAB Archives, Intermediary Archives Depot, Johannesburg. Bonner, 12-13. Chaskalson, 7 . i nci to Inter-departmental Committee on Native Juvenile Unemployment, Report 1951, 3-8. Bonner, 12-13. ,, Q Inter-departmental Committee on Native Juvenile Unemployment, Report 1951, 3-8. Ibid., 5-6. See Freed "The Problem of Crime in the Union of South Africa" (D. Phil, thesis, University of the Orange Free State, Bloemfontein, August 1958), 156-206. Freed provides a detailed and systematic account of the gangs in about a dozen Rand locations. Mphahlele. Freed 157 8 Report of the Commission Appointed to Enquire into Acts of Violence Committed by Natives at Krugersdorp, Newlands, Randfontein and Newclare, paragraph 192. Inter-departmental Committee on Native Juvenile Unemployment Report, 1951,7. Chppin'g of article from Rand Daily Mail, 16 January 1956, file 401/25/1, "The Youth Problem, 1952-1961", WRAB Archives, Intermediary Archives Depot, Johannesburg. Report o f \the Commission Appointed to Enquire into Acts of Violence Committed by Natives of Krugersdorp, Newlands, Randfontein and Newclare, paragraph 88. Carr letter, Manager to the Native Affairs Commissioner, Johannesburg, 17 October 1956, file 401/25/1, 'The Youth Problem, 1952-1961", WRAB Archives, Intermediary Archives Depot, Johannesburg. Report of die Commission Appointed to Enquire into Acts of Violence Committed by Natives of Krugersdorp, Newlands, Randfontein and Newclare.. Youth gang involvement is mentioned on practically every page of the report. „ Inter-departmental Committee on Native Juvenile Unemployment Report, 1951, 7-10. bee previous references to this commission in my discussion on unemployment. Letter from Acting Deputy Manager to the Acting Manager Native Affairs, 19 February 1953, file 401/25/1, "The Youth Problem 1952-1961 , WRAB CONGRESS YOUTH LEAGUE 15 Archives, Intermediary Archives Depot, Johannesburg. This letter contained a report on the meeting held earlier that month. 49. Ibid. 50. Ibid. 51. Ibid. 52. Registering Officer, Monthly Reports, City of Johannesburg, on Juvenile Unemployment. These figures are computed from the monthly statistics, file 401/25/1, "The Youth Problem", WRAB Archives, Intermediary Archives Depot, Johannesburg. 53. W.J.P. Carr, himself, admits to this in a letter written in October 1957. Carr, letter, Manager to the Native Commissioner, Johannesburg, 17 October 1956, file 401/25/1, "The Youth Problem 1952-1961", WRAB Archives, Intermediary Archives Depot, Johannesburg. 54. Carr, letter, Manager to the Regional Employment Commissioner, 22 December 1955, file 401/25/1, The Youth Problem 1952-1961", WRAB Archives, Intermediary Archives Depot, Johannesburg. 55. Van Rensburg, letter, Secretary of Native Affairs to the Registration Officer, Johannesburg, 24 November 1955, file 401/25/1, "The Youth Problem 1952-1961", WRAB Archives Intermediary Archives Depot, Johannesburg. 56. See, Report of the Commission Appointed to Enquire into Acts of Violence Committed by Natives at Krugersdorp, Newlands, Randfontein and Ncwclare. 57. See, Chaskalson, 8. 58. Bonner, 21. 59 Mphahlele.. 60. Report of the Commission Appointed to Enquire into Acts of Violence Committed by Natives at Krugersdorp, Newlands, Randfontein and Ncwclare, 3. 61. Ibid., paragraph 86. 62. Ibid., paragraph 172. 63. See, interviews with Pitje, Mphahlele and Motlana. This did not alter their observations that youth gangs were essentially "a-political". 64 Bonner, 21. 65. CYL Manifesto , March 1944, Carter and Karis Collection, Church of the Province Library, Wits University. Reel 2B. 66. Trial Exhibits, "Programme for the Building of a Mass Youth League", June 1954, File Ea3, Treason Trial Collection, Church of the Province Library, Wits University. 67. Bonner, 22-29. 68. Pitje, Mphahlele and Motlana. 69. Motlana. 70. Ibid. 71. Mpahahlele 72 Motlana. 73 Pitje 74. Mbata. 75. The de Villiers Louw Commission, Report of the Commission Appointed to Enquire into Acts of Violence Committed by Natives at Krugersdorp, Newlands, Randfontein and Newclare, would provide a good starting point for further research in this area. 76. Bundy, 9. (These figures are rounded off.) 77. Bonner describes the police clampdown on youth gangs in Benoni during the early 1960s. Bonner, 29. PERSPECTIVES IN EDUCATION, 1988/9, VOL. 10, NO. 2,17 - 32 Colonial Education in Natal: The Zwaartkop Government Native School, 1888-1892 Peter Kallaway University of Cape Town Industrial education sought to adapt the education curriculum of colonised peoples to the "realities" of the labour market by abandoning an academic curriculum in favour of a focus on practical arts and agriculture. Ambiguous in their intent, institutions established on this basis were often the centre of heated controversy - whether viewed as potential labour reservoirs for settler farmers, progressive experiments in practical knowledge or centres of inferior education for colonised peoples. Natal provided a laboratory for missionary endeavours in this area from the earliest years of British rule. In the 1880s the colonial government made a bid to promote such policies by establishing a Government Industrial Native School at Zwaartkop near Pietermaritzburg. It closed its doors only five years later. This article explores the history of the institution and asks why this promising experiment, like many others of its kind in colonial Africa, proved to be a failure. "To improve the barbaric mind, it is as necessary to induce industry as to teach morality." (Theopholis Shepstone, Secretary of Native Affairs to Rev. H. Pearse, 13 November 1858).1 "It is infinitely preferable to train the young Kafir now than to exterminate him hereafter." (ref. Natal Native Commission, 1853). "I would define (the scope of our educational work) as being to qualify the Native youth for the effective discharge of their probable duties in life. These, for the present generation of school children, are those connected with the stable, kitchen, nursery, wagon and farm." (Robert Plant, Inspector of Native Education, 1889).3 Introduction Industrial or vocational education had a special place in colonial ideology relating to the "civilisation" of African peoples in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Expressed loosely in a wide variety of educational experiments such as those connected with the Slojd in Scandanavia,5 the "Country Life Movement" in the USA,6 and the development of the "special" or "adapted" education for Southern "Freedmen" associated with Booker T. Washington and the Tuskegee Institute,7 the industrial education movement aimed at a fundamental reform of the school curriculum in a rural context. In keeping with the ethos of the early Progressive Movement in the USA,8 formal book learning was considered to be inappropriate to the needs of rural life. At precisely the time that changes in agrarian relations were propelling large numbers of people off the land, an argument in favour of a schooling that was directly relevant to the environment and life chances of rural children acquired a certain degree of academic respectability and common sense resonance among educationalists, missionaries and administrators. Experimental educational projects in Africa drawing their inspiration from these sources were to be found as far apart as Achimota in the Gold Coast9 and Lovedale in the Eastern Cape. Debates regarding the need for working people to receive a relevant or utilitarian 18 PETER KALLAWAY education "appropriate to their station in life" had a lineage from Plato to Kerschensteiner. On the one hand, such arguments were framed in terms of the need to secure educational rights" of "non-slave” peoples, and, on the other, they emphasised the provision of a "different" or "adapted" "special education" for "primitive peoples". These policies were strongly influenced by Social Darwinism, and aimed at an education for colonial peoples which secured the efficient execution of their appropriate tasks within the "natural order". Equally, as this paper will show, it provided part of colonial state strategy to satisfy the demands of settler farmers for the provision of adequate supplies of wage labour. It was precisely that ambiguity that gave ideological and political significance to the call for industrial education wherever it was heard, and it helps to account for the widespread resistance to such policies by colonial peoples in Africa. The small and isolated British colony of Natal provides a fascinating laboratory for enquiry into the development of industrial education policies in South Africa during the nineteenth century, and die resistance to such policies. This essay seeks to explore those developments during the period 1880-1900 at a time when agriculture in Natal was undergoing the transition to capitalist production and when the labour market of Southern Africa was undergoing dramatic changes under the impact of the industrial and commercial expansion that followed the mineral discoveries. The following account of one educational experiment, the Zwaartkop Industrial School, is offered in full recognition of the diversity of responses to colonial educational initiatives, and the need for caution when attempting to generalise about them. It is also important to emphasise that the archival base from which the evidence is drawn is rather limited, thus leaving many questions unanswered. The speculative nature of this paper therefore reflects the necessary tentativeness of explorations in the history of education in this country at the present time and the necessity for caution when attempting to reconstruct that history. It attempts to take one case study of educational change and innovation in the field of industrial education and to understand its internal and external history in the light of the changing political economy of Natal at the beginning of the last decade of the mnteenth century. Natal 1843-1893: The context of industrial education Early industrial education for the indigenous population of the British colony of Natal focused on the so-called "civilising" potential of the habits and skills associated with the "virtuous labour" of the workshop. The imparting of the 3Rs and the teaching of skills such as carpentry, masonry and agriculture were associated with the "upliftment" of African life and with the provision of appropriate labour for colonial farmers. Industrial education experiments in Natal took root in the context of a colony in the transition to capitalist production in agriculture and the emergence of a relatively economically independent indigenous population. In the 1880s the emergence of a modem economy stimulated the demand for industrial skills as they enabled Africans to move into the labour market on advantaged terms. Yet in so doing black artisans came into conflict with the increasing number of working class white immigrants who were offering the similar skills m the market place. The emergent conflict between these two groups, and the politics associated with the introduction of various policies intended to promote or retard industrial education form the basis of this investigation. From the time of the annexation of the colony of Natal by Britain in 1843, the politics ot the region were dominated by the bare fact that the population comprised over 100 000 Africans to less than 5 000 colonists. In the period under review, the colonial state began an COLONIAL INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 19 assault on the independence of the African peasantry with a view to securing a reliable source of labour for colonial farmers in the interior, and for the new sugar estates along the coastal plain. A pre-condition of accumulation in agriculture was the dislodging and integration into the colonial labour market of the independent.peasantry. This gave rise to conflict between settler and colonial government interests. The imperial government, intent on collecting taxes and ruling as cheaply as possible, while accommodating to the realities of power, opted for the "Locations Policy” put forward by Theopholis Shepstone, the Secretary of Native Affairs. This policy sought to keep the majority of Africans in "reserved" areas where they would remain under the influence of traditional frameworks of custom and politics, while subordinated to British rule through the strict control of the chiefs. It sought to incorporate the political influence of the local pre-colonial rulers, while ensuring that they were kept isolated from one another to "prevent combination". Shepstone’s policy had ambiguous intentions. It was to keep the African population as separate from the settler society as possible in the interests of "security". It simultaneously intended to encourage the "extension of civilisation" among Africans through the promotion of industry and the cash economy, the encouragement of peasant farming and cash crops, the promotion of Christianity, and the general extension of colonial norms and values through education. The goals of such an education were summarised by Shepstone in 1858, when he placed the teaching of morality (or the fundamentals of the overt and hidden curriculum) on an equal footing with the need to "induce industry", which could be taken to mean encouraging the norms or values of the Victorian work ethic, as well as the actual acquisition of work-related skills. The settlers were opposed to the Shepstone system right up until the 1870s. It proved to be a constant source of conflict between them and the imperial government. The settlers argued repeatedly that the large reserves provided too much economic and political independence for the indigenous population and prevented Africans from entering the labour market in sufficient numbers at rates that would make commercial farming viable in the colony. This, they argued, retarded the progress and prosperity of the colony. Interestingly, the one point on which they did agree with Shepstone and the Colonial Office was in their support for industrial education. Indeed, in order to ensure that the youth of the reserves was liable for compulsory farm labour once they reached the age of fifteen, they were even keen, from the time of Representative Government in 1856, to enforce compulsory education. The tone of these recommendations is succinctly captured by the second quote at the head of this article, taken from the notorious Natal Native Commission of 1853. Although little was actually done in the way of implementing these proposals, even after the amount of £5 000 was made available for the purpose of "native education and welfare" at the time of the granting of Representative Government in 1856 (the so-called "£5 000 Native Reserve Fund"), these ideas continued to inform government thinking on the link between education and labour.14 Rev. Allison’s education experiments at Indaleni and Edendale near Pietermaritzburg, and the proposals of Bishop Grey for the introduction of a number of industrial missions were to provide the background to the establishment of a chain of industrial institutions, mostly run by the Wesleyan missionaries, that were flourishing in Natal during the 1860s.15 These initiatives received generous funding from the government in comparison with other types of mission schools. This policy is to be understood as part of the general government policy of the time to promote the formation of a class of Africans who whould stimulate the commercial and cultural values of the colonial world. The following table, drawn from the limited evidence available, provides an 20 PETER KALLAWAY overview of that situation in the 1860s. Table 1. Returns of the expenditure from the Native Reserve Fund in relation to the field of industrial education in Natal, 1857*1870..................................................... Year 1857 1858 1861 1864 1865 Den School 1870 Wes £360 £146 £80 £392 £183 £100 £100 £275 £28 £283 £100 £50 £220 £200 £300 £320 £50 £200 £50 £100 £200 £200 £200 £200 £100 £100 £200 £200 £200 £200 £100 Zwaartkop Lower Umkomanzi Edendale Indaleni Verulam CofE Bishopstowe Lower Umlazi Springvale (Upper Umlazi) Springfield St Mary’s (Pmb) Umgababa ABM Umtwalume CSA St Faith’s (Dbn) ____________ £406 £1441.....£1490..... £1000.....£1000........................... .... Abbreviations: Den-Denomtalion, Wes-Wesleyan. CofE-Chorch of England, ABM-Amerioan Board Mission, CSA-Church of South Africa. Despite this apparent progress in the field of industrial education, the late sixties marked the enTof a phase of government support for industrial education m Natal. Most of Ae i n v e s t e d c o J \ o an and by He close of t o decade - " “ * * * » £ Superintendent of Education, withdrew government funding for industrial education mS AUhough the reasons for this shift in policy remain to be researched in detail, it is clear that the drying up of state funding was matched by missionary disillusionment linked to the S S S f S S S this form of education and the question of "consumer resistance from AfrOnlyTsethe sTventiJand eighties ushered in a new era in the history of‘Natal was there a partial revival of these ideas linked to the need for artisans and semi-skilled labour in an expanding economy that was centred on the Diamond Fields, the construction of railwaysto Ih l interior and the emergence of plantation agriculture in the sugar areas of the coasta plain The Anglo-Zulu War (1877-78) must also have had a considerable effect on stimulating the need for the kinds of skills offered by the products of these institutions, and n a v i the way for a further demand for such skills. Yet the missionaries now became extremely reluctant to invest their resources in this kind of educabon, given the history o state ambivalence in this area and the cost of such enterprises. A considerable outlay was required for buildings, equipment for workshops and the employment of trained artisans ^ ^ Y etY sX itw ty 1 established Natal Council of Education turned its attention to the field of "native education" during the era of post-war reconstruction in the early eighties, a new COLONIAL INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 21 policy emerged which drew the state into providing a lead in this area. The Inspectors of Native Education were given the task of promoting industrial education and to this end the Zwaartkop Government Industrial Native School was established in the vicinity of Pietermaritzburg. The philosophy behind the new policy which should be understood in the context of the emergence of a more stridently conservative trend in settler politics in the wake of the Anglo-Zulu war, was expressed by Robert Plant in his "Report on Native Education" to the Council of Education in 1887.18 This turn towards an overt policy of alternative or adapted education specifically designed for Africans drew much of its inspiration from a similar set of ideas that had emerged in the Southern States of the USA during the post-Reconstruction era, policies which formed the basis of what later came to be called "the skills colour bar", which reserved certain kinds of industrial and artisanal skills for whites. It should also be noted that a key problem noted world-wide relating to the notion of industrial education is that even where colonial peoples do manage to gain industrial skills, the skills provided tend to be anachronistic and as such disadvantage trainees in the industrial labour market. In this context the Zwaartkop experiment failed to endure. After a short life of only seven years the institution was closed down in the face of resistance from the local African community, parents, and students as well as strong opposition from white colonists. The reasons for that failure form the subject of this investigation. Zwaartkop Government Industrial Native School: An experiment in industrial education, 1886-1892 The Zwaartkop Government Industrial Native School which existed between 1887 and 1892 represented a unique experiment in state sponsored native education in nineteenth century Natal. After the collapse of the initiative, the administration was not to venture again into the area of direct educational provision for Africans until after Union. (The first government school for Africans in Natal opened in Durban in 1917.)19 Zwaartkop came into being at the behest of the newly established Native Education Committee of the Council of Education20 with the intention of promoting the revival of industrial education in Natal. "The Council wanted a government school for natives as soon as possible" to meet dual demand for a more appropriate educational policy which would demonstrate the good faith of the colonial government in the reconstructionist era following the recent Anglo-Zulu War (1877-1878), and a policy which would at the same time meet the demands of the settlers for an adequate supply of labour.22 The Natal Native Commission (1881-2) and the Report of the Select Committee on Education (1882-83) provided the immediate background to the legislation of 1884 - "For the Promotion o f the Elementary Education among the Children of the Native Population (Law 1 of 1884). This law aimed at the provision of compulsory education for all African children between the ages of six and fifteen years and stipulated that such schooling should necessarily include "elements of industrial training" 23 The aims of that schooling were to ensure that African youth were drawn into the sphere of colonial life on a social and cultural level in order to ensure their loyalty to the colonial state, while preparing them appropriately for their place in the labour market. Up to 1887 the funds available for the purpose of industrial education had always been in the form of grants to missionary organisations. Despite state encouragement of such work during the 1880s it became clear that a combination of circumstances were making the missionaries increasingly reluctant to engage in this sphere of activity.24 As pointed out above, key reasons for that withdrawal relate to the expense of such institutions, the 22 PETER KALLAWAY difficulty of obtaining adequate instructors, and the resistance from students, parents and communities to this form of education. The pending threat of missionary withdrawal from the field of industrial education probably explains this hasty initiative on the part of the Council of Education. In order to demonstrate to the missions what could be achieved, the government wished to establish a model institution which could provide a training ground for the future development of industrial education. In July 1885 the first Inspector of Native Education in Natal, Fred B. Fynney, was appointed. He drew up a scheme for a "Model Farm” which represented the basis of a report to the Council of Education. The report received official approval and the Colonial Engineer was instructed to prepare plans for the new school to be sited at Zwaartkop Location, not far from the Wesleyan mission station and industrial school at Edendale, near Pietermaritzburg. The Natal Native Trust granted 52 acres for the purpose, and the Council made available £600 for capital outlay on the project. The school buildings were completed in April 1886 and the school was officially opened in August of that year with Samuel Gibbs as Superintendent at a salary of £150 per annum. As assistant teacher, Timothy Zuma, and an industrial teacher, Luke Kumalo (a carpenter and wagon builder), were soon appointed, the former at £30 per annum and the latter at £360 per annum - indicating perhaps the market value of their relative skills as black teachers with "academic" or "industrial" background. (Board and lodgings were included in each case). Kumalo’s wife seems to have been expected to act as matron "and take charge of the kitchen and the housework". Despite the death of Gibbs, the appointment of a new supervisor, Robert Smith, and the dismissal of Zuma for reasons that I have not been able to establish (Elias Kumalo being appointed in his stead) the school eventually opened in January 1887. During the following five years, until it closed in December 1891, the school had an uneven history which raises classic questions about the place of education in colonial society, and the role of industrial education within that process. 21 For most of the time there were between ten and twenty students. The sources are entirely silent on their origins or motivation for attending the school, though the majority seem to have come from neighbouring mission communities and not from the surrounding location. Teenage boys (perhaps ten to fifteen in number) who boarded at the school accounted for the major part of the student body. A few girls also appear to have attended. At times when the numbers on the roll were low quite small children were also accepted, although they were excluded from the obligation to do manual work. Day scholars were present at all times, but they do not seem to have played a key role in the life of the school or taken much advantage of the training offered in the workshop. Attendance figures given in the published reports are as follows: Table 2. Zwaartkop Student Attendance Figures: 1887-1891........................................ Date Totai Boarders Day Scholars Average Students "from attendance neighbouring kraals" ..... 1887.............. 1st term 12-13 2nd term 19 1888 1st term 2nd term 1? 14 5 17 21 15 6 COLONIAL INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 23 Sept 20 9? 11 Dec 1889 1st term 10 0 10* 20 2nd term 1890 21 10 11 21 2nd term 1891 21 10 11 21 June 30 14+ 16# 30 ♦In 1888 four of the ten remaining students were the children of the industrial teacher. + In July 1891 only two students were left in the workshop. # A gqod proportion of these were small children who were not eligible for workshop classes. The reports of the inspectors of Native Education, Fred Fynney (1887) and his successor, Robert Plant (1887-1892), the only published documents on the school that I have been able to trace, are fascinating, if confusing for what they include as well as for what they omit. In 1887 Fynney reported that "an inspection of the school premises showed the different departments to be well and neatly kept". The dormitory was reported to be "somewhat crowded with 12 students in one room! True to the ethos of his successors of later years, Fynney was concerned that uniforms be provided for the students at the considerable cost of 12/6d each. He spoke well of the academic performance of the school in examinations conducted by him in September 1887, when 8 students passed Std III, 4 passed Std II, and 4 passed Std I. Subsequent reports also expressed satisfaction with the formal schoolwork. These figures indicate that most of the students had previously attended other schools and had transferred to Zwaartkop for reasons that are not at all clear from the evidence available. The implication is that they came with the specific intention of acquiring the industrial skills that provided the rationale for Zwaartkop’s existence. Yet although much of the history of the institution remains hazy, there is very clear evidence that whatever else was achieved, the imparting of marketable industrial skills was not to be recorded as one of the areas of notable success. Given the rationale of its existence, it is not surprising that the reports on the institution emphasised the relationship between education and manual work, though it is to be noted that only the academic work was tested in the formal examinations conducted by the inspectors. The catalogue of achievements in the area of work-related education is, at first sight, impressive. In the 1887 Zwaartkop Report Fynney details the following accomplishments: 40 000 bricks made; water has been led onto the premises from a distance of nearly two miles; the land attached to the school (52 acres) was enclosed by wire fencing; a new workshop was erected (48’ x 18’ x 10’ high) with iron roof and verandah (the door and window frames were made at Zwaartkops); the old workshop was converted into a dormitory; a two roomed cottage for teachers was built; 9-12 acres of land was brought under cultivation for the purpose of making the institution self-sufficient in food; 1000 "useful and ornamental trees" were planted, in addition to 100 fruit trees/ Three and a half years later, Robert Plant reported similarly on the "varied industrial work" 24 PETER KALLAWAY he had inspected which included: the making and keeping in repair of some two miles of road, raising the roof of the teacher house; repainting the school buildings lanting seven acres of mielies; planting 1000 trees; erecting 600 yards of fencing; putting up a new wood and iron building on stone foundation (45 x 15 x 9), sundry alterations to different rooms. Yet for all the apparent success of this initiative, it is central to the understanding of the progress of the institution that a clear distinction be made between manual work and industrial education - a distinction which was not always obvious to contemporaries. "General routine manual work" or fatigue duties"31 appear to have been undertaken by the boys, and the girls were expected to do "sewing, washing, ironing and general housework", a notable reflection of the educational practices predicated upon patriarchial models that were dominant in Britain at the time.32 Industrial education, the supposed rationale of the institution under investigation, on the other hand, presupposed the induction of students to specific areas of skills training in woodwork, wagonmaking, masonry and agriculture (for boys) and needlework (for girls), under the supervision of a mastercraftsman in a workshop situation. This distinction is central to an understanding of the history of the institution and will form the focus of much of the analysis that will follow below. The overall impression gained from the reports of the Inspectors is that despite a number of minor hitches, the institution was gradually finding its feet by the early 1890s. It was, despite the problem of high running costs, expected to flourish in the near future. These costs amounted to something like £500 a year. Yet despite the small successes claimed, the experiment was declared a failure by the end of 1891 and the school was sold to the Wesleyans for a token figure and eventually abandoned. How is the failure of this experiment to be accounted for given the initial enthusiasm of the Council of Education, the willingness of the government to fund the venture, and the long history of settler agitation for the establishment of such institutions? Explanations for failure The attitude of contemporary commentators and educational historians to the failure of the Zwaartkop experiment is interesting. As early as 1892, Inspector Plant argued... "that it has died so soon will astonish no one who is acquainted with the case. It has cost a considerable amount as an experiment but may have a distinct value as a lesson . Yet he did not elaborate upon what that lesson might have been. Oscar Emanuelson, the official historian of "Native Education" in Natal, remarked that the career of the school was "characterized by uncertainty" and "perpetual efforts to adjust to difficulties" in a context where the institution rarely ran smoothly".35 Dodd, the major historian of vocational education in South Africa, locates the problems as follows: "The organisation appears to have been faulty, local support was lacking, the locality seems to have been unsuitable, and the running costs were such as to dampen the enthusiasm of the administration." Charles T. Loram, Inspector of Native Education in Natal from 1917-1921(7), the chairman of the Native Affairs Commission from 1921, and doyen of Native Education during the early twentieth century, could only dismiss it as an "ill-starred", "fretful" experiment, despite the fact that it pointed the way to the kind of education he came to advocate for Africans during ̂ the early twentieth century in the context of the Phelps-Stokes Reports on African education. COLONIAL INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 25 Before we attempt to draw any conclusions from the above evidence it is important to recognise that the general historical perspective of all of the writers cited is somewhat limited because they have failed to interpret developments in the field of education against the background of the broader changes in the nature of the economy and society of Natal during the late nineteenth century pointed to above. Prior to the 1870s settler opposition to the "Locations policy" of Shepstone had often been vociferous because it was alleged that the system of segregation that it represented prevented a "free supply" of labour from reaching the market. Settler politicians were therefore often outspoken critics of the imperial government for imposing a segregated system upon the colony, when the abolition of the reserves, and the consequent integration of the society would in their opinion have created a more prosperous society, and a society more open to settler control. Yet in the wake of the Anglo-Zulu War (1877-8), and in the context of the changing political economy of Natal in the last two decades of the nineteenth century, the dominant settler viewpoint was reversed. As David Welsh has shown, Shepstone’s policies were now to be adapted to conform with segregation of the kind that became familiar in the twentieth century. Now the setders wished to use the reserves as a mechanism of political and labour control, and as a justification for white political and economic hegemony based on segregation.38 A parallel process was taking place in the context of the politics of education. There had been a long history of settler agitation for industrial (or manual) education from the earliest days of the British occupation of Natal. The provision of industrial education for Africans was seen to provide a means of drawing them into the labour market and making them appreciate "the dignity of labour" in the context of the colonial economy. Not only would such an education provide the skills necessary for the settler economy and society. Yet by the time the administration was in a position to put such policies into practice in the 1880s, the pendulum of settler opinion had begun to swing in line with the general changes in "native policy" outlined above. A new class of working class whites was becoming increasingly concerned at the potential threat presented to their monopoly of skills by the training of Africans in craft skills. It is in the context of those developments that we have to attempt to interpret the climate in which the Zwaartkop experiment took place. Within that context of changing "native policy", and the gradual incorporation of Natal into the modem industrial economy of the sub-continent associated with the mineral discoveries in the interior, new forms of resistance were to emerge, and the schools were not immune from those challenges. A number of explanations for the failure of the Zwaartkop experiment will be reviewed and evaluated. These explanations will be viewed in turn under the following headings: - the personal or management problem explanation; - the financial factor; - the resistance from the local community linked to student resistance and the issue of manual labour vs industrial education. The personality factor or management problem The argument here is that everything would have worked out fine but for the fact that Superintendent Smith was the wrong man for the job. Emanuelson argues that the experiment "would have been a decided success if the right man had been in charge".39 He hints at the inappropriateness of Smith’s personality, his inability to handle staff and student disaffection, and even at corruption. After three and a half years it was discovered that "the real cause of the mischief was that Smith was not teaching, "only supervising".40 Yet even after this issue was recognised by the Council of Education in 1890 it did not bring an end to 26 PETER KALLAWAY the problems of the school. While Smith clearly comes in for the bulk of the criticism m this regard, there is also more than a hint of criticism of the work of Fred Fynney in the reports of his successor. Why was he not more critical of Smith’s handling of the situation • Linked to the question of the personality of the supervisor, is the question of faulty . . . 41organisation. Smith’s actions throughout create the impression of inefficiency and incompetence, poor relations with students and staff, and an overwhelming desire to please the authorities to the letter without calculating the cost. The absence of a stable staff must also be attributed to Smith’s incompetent management. Though he outlasted all of the other members of staff, the reason for his survival amidst a stream of disasters and constant criticism from Inspector Plant after 1888 is hard to explain on the basis of the evidence I have been able to quarry. Although some weight must clearly be attached to explanations of this kind, the question is: how much significance should be attributed to this factor in its own right? The financial factor A major factor which lay behind the official disillusionment with Zwaartkop school was the cost. After an initial capital outlay of some £600, the school’s running expenses of over £500 per annum, were far in excess of any similar institution. In 1889 Robert Plant pointed out that the annual cost of keeping a child at Zwaartkop amounted to £22 18s 6d as against £1 3s 6d at mission schools.4* The strong official resistance to the pressure from students, parents, and the Inspector, to the waiving of the £4 0 0 annual fee for boarders in 1891 must be understood in the light of these statistics (see below). The state was discovering for the first time the nature of the financial difficulties related to industrial education that had long inhibited missionary endeavour in this area. It should be noted that the issue of cost has often been cited as a key restraint regarding the extension of industrial education in Africa right up to the present time. Resistance from the local community The absence of local support for the school disturbed the authorities from the outset, and this was often put forward as a key reason for the failure of the venture. Fynney had clearly not done his homework properly when he chose the Zwaartkop site for the school and the Council of Education was quick to recognise the problem. Even the most optimistic supporters of the initiative could not avoid the fact that all was not going well when the Council of Education passed the following resolution in February 1887, two months after the opening of the doors of the institution: 1) That the Council of Education take into consideration the fact that the Zwaart Kop Central School has not fulfilled the objects for which it was established, in so far as it has failed to meet the needs of the Natives living in the Location; 2) That the usefulness of the Institution be extended by the establishment of Branch Schools under Native Teachers, in connection with the Central Industrial School and subject to the control of the superintendent of Zwaart Kop, for the education of young children". During the next five years the attendance from the location failed to show any marked improvement, and the project related to the establishment of feeder schools failed to materialise. , The explanations offered by the Inspector of Native Education for the non-attendance ot the local children are set-pieces of official evasiveness. When Plant asked the local community leaders to send their children to the school, he was told: "Our chiefs are the COLONIAL INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION 27 mouthpieces of the Government to us: we have not been told by them to send the children, and until we are told we shall not send them."44 Plant further suggested that the reluctance to send their children to school stemmed from the fear on the part of the local people that they would ultimately be required to pay for the cost of the buildings, "and that therefore the only safe way is to repudiate all connection with it". Elsewhere the chiefs were reported to have argued against schooling on the grounds that "it only spoilt their children".45 Plant commented dryly that he was sure the reasons given for non-attendance "were not the true reasons", but he did not venture his opinion on what he thought the "real reasons" were! The only firm indication of direct parental involvement in the affairs of the school seems to have come as a result of the combined opposition to the payment of £4 per annum boarding fees that were to be instituted from June 1891. Since most of the boarders were not from the immediate neighbourhood this did not even have the positive effect of drawing the local community into the affairs of the school. This local resistance to the school was a decisive factor that led to the abandonment of the experiment, though I must admit to having gained no clear idea of the specific reasons for that stance from the documentation available. Student resistance and the issue of manual labour versus industrial education As indicated above, a key problem at the heart of Zwaartkop’s existence was the relationship between manual work and industrial education. The official reports cited above detail an impressive catalogue of achievements in terms of the work carried out by students in keeping with the ethos of self sufficiency subscribed to by the school. Yet how far such achievements had anything to do with education is not at all clear from the evidence available. The overriding impression is that much of the construction or repair work carried out on the school and the agricultural enterprise reported were the fruits of the compulsory manual work or "fatigue" duties, referred to above, that every student was obliged to carry out for two to three hours daily. Those duties were timetabled quite differently from the instruction in industrial education or "shopwork" where various industrial skills were taught. For those who took these courses, usually not more than half of the students on the roll, these classes lasted for four hours a day.46 In the very first month of the school’s existence a number of disputes arose between the superintendent and the students over the question of manual work and, to put it in the form of Emanuelson’s delightful understatement, "the new Superintendent’s methods of control were obviously distastef ul to the students".47 At the end of the following year matters came to a head when "the whole of the boarders ran away in a body, having, so they said, been badly treated by the superintendent.48 The Superintendent countered in each case with charges of insubordination on the part of the students. It is clear that these problems seemed to arise out of the need for compulsion related to the manual work duties (especially brickmilking, road building and work in the fields). In each case the troubles that arose were not related to the area of industrial education per se. The attitude of the students to the work carried out under the guidance of the industrial teacher, Luke Kumalo (1886-1888), was by no means negative. Plant reports