School racism: Narratives, the “truth” and truth
Much has been said in recent years about the imperative of truth in public life: the idea that misinformation and disinformation (“fake news”) is poisoning public discourse, polarising our societies and dislocating public policy responses is a frightening and compelling one. As the country enters a new political era with its possibilities along with its risks and uncertainties, this is a matter that should concern us all.
At issue here are not only direct lies – the presentation of defined falsehoods as fact – or distortion-by-decontextualisation, but the construction of narrative. Narratives organise information and experiences, giving significance to them and helping us to make sense of the world.
And it is by their skill that adept leaders can combine people’s assumptions and aspirations with events to create views of the world that are politically useful to them. This is even more the case when narrative creation goes unnoticed, and when a worldview takes root organically, a sort of common sense that no one thinks to challenge.
When narrative is founded on mistaken or dishonest premises, the consequences can be severe indeed. This is a challenge confronting the entire world, and arguably nowhere as acutely as in democracies, where the free flow of information (irrespective of its provenance) is a foundational value. Weaponised by malign actors, it is dire threat.
For South Africa, narrative creation is invariably connected to our tragic history. We live in the shadow of apartheid, and the human pain and societal dislocation it caused. No worthwhile analysis of South Africa’s polycrisis can ignore this.
These thoughts occurred while watching the recent (and probably still unfolding) controversy at Pretoria High School for Girls. We’re willing to bet that if you’re reading this piece, you’re aware of the ructions in that institution. We’re also willing to bet that you don’t know a great deal about it, aside from the key narrative signifier: this is about racism.
In fact, a full account of this has not been made public, at least not officially. A broad outline can be pieced together from media reports and the statement put out by the Gauteng Department of Education. A number of black learners had complained of racism at the school, alleging in particular that the management of the school had been indifferent to their concerns. They have also cited a WhatsApp group operated by a group of 12 white learners, in which racist sentiments were supposedly expressed.
The alleged offenders were suspended from the school, pending a disciplinary hearing; this was conducted at the end of last week, and the learners in question found not to have contravened any rules. Remarkably – though given its conduct, predictably – the Education department declared itself “disappointed” with the outcome. This was despite the fact that in its statement, the Department had conceded that there were “allegations” of racist misconduct, and nothing more – its statement used that word 11 times.
That nothing had been proven – and, necessarily, that the allegations might lack merit – didn't stop accusations (dare we say assumptions of guilt?) from pouring in. Numerous media reports cited sources – typically anonymous, although at least one parent did so publicly to Newzroom Afrika and another to the Daily Maverick – claiming extensive racism at the institution. Details of this were generally not provided, aside from references to the manner in which hair infringements were treated (an evocative matter, since the school experienced a highly publicised protest about hair policy in 2016) and to unevenly applied demands that the learners communicate in English.
The Economic Freedom Fighters put out a typically intemperate statement about “the persistent and deeply rooted racism” in the school, denouncing the institution as a “hotbed of racial discrimination and inequality”.
Reporting and commentary on these matters have generally reproduced these perspectives uncritically – Daily Maverick columnist Melanie Verwoerd's piece on 28 July was an excellent example of this − and not it seems attempted to seek comment from any of the accused, or any other information.
To be fair, regarding the media reporting, we have to note two issues: first, the GDE does not allow its principals and staff to comment in the media on controversial issues, and second, that SGBs and parents are unlikely to make public comments for fear of further accusations of racism being levelled against them and exacerbating an already fraught situation for the learners in their charge.
Still, despite the recognition expressed in the Department’s statement that things remained in the realm of allegation, the manner in which the officials handling it have chosen to act suggested a fulsome acceptance of the veracity of these claims. We understand that a departmental official, one Mr Billy Kgomo, addressed a school assembly, castigated the accused students, and then asked the assembled students whether the accused girls should be suspended and expelled – this while the Department’s position was supposedly that these charges remained “allegations”. Apparently, the response was loud whistling and ululation by some of the learners.
A few days later a school newsletter quoted an official – one Mr Andries Nkadimeng – who had spoken to the school: “Issues of discrimination and issues of racism will not be tolerated by the GDE, whether there is tangible evidence or not.” This was a remarkable position to take.
All of this is a case study in narrative construction: allegations and accusations blend with assumptions about society and pronouncements by those in authority and affirm moral sentiments. It’s a compelling proposition, particularly if it confirms what one is in any event inclined to believe. Indeed, where a narrative is strong enough, the “tangible evidence” to which Mr Nkadimeng refers becomes an entirely optional element in determining “truth”, and action can be warranted even in its absence.
What was the “truth” in this instance? We certainly didn’t know. What we could confidently say is that things are invariably more complicated than any narrative can capture – it is, after all, the nature of narratives to simplify complex and untidy realities.
Department spokesman Steve Mabona summed up the Department’s position thus: “This was triggered by alleged racial connotations, micro-aggressions and complaints about black learners which were ventilated through a WhatsApp Group comprised of white learners. The conversations allegedly included racial commentary about the ongoing dissatisfaction among black learners regarding issues they faced at the school, alluding to these issues being insignificant. Similar commentary about a black hair protest by learners that reportedly took place at the school in 2016 was also made in the group chat.”
The suspension letters sent by the school to each of the learners took a similar tack, summing up the charge as being “part of the WhatsApp group that allegedly expressed inappropriate opinions”.
The content of the contentious WhatsApp group is not public, though extracts have found their way into the media. Looking from, the outside – like virtually everyone not immediately involved, we’d suggest – we were not clear on the nature of the offence, particularly if it took place in private interactions. How, one could ask, is a “micro-aggression” (whatever that may be) communicated if its supposed targets are not exposed to it? What has been made available might be regarded as insensitive – “alluding to those issues being insignificant”, as Mabona put it – though it’s hard to see this as inherently racist. Unless, of course, one expects to see racism, and then seeks to retrofit whatever evidence is to hand onto it. Narrative construction in other words, with evidence being a selectively applied tool to assist here.
There have also been claims about instances of bullying, race-baiting at the school – another video has surfaced showing a black learner threatening to visit her “wrath” upon her white counterparts – as well the general decline in discipline. Perhaps the school has greater and deeper problems to confront than the WhatsApp allegations. Is there a culture of bullying and disrespect of authority that risks rendering the school unmanageable? Here, again, we’re not in a position to assess the veracity or severity of any of this, nor are we able to make any definitive claims about how this relates to the case of the other 12, now acquitted, learners, if indeed there is a connection.
The learner in question has been suspended pending a disciplinary hearing, although it’s notable that the News24 report on this matter (“Pretoria High School for Girls suspends black pupil for statements with alleged racial undertones”) stuck stubbornly to the original narrative. Readers would have been left with the barest indication of the contents of the video, the nominal focus of the article – “making statements suspected to have racial undertones” – but were treated to paragraph after paragraph detailing the allegations against the other 12 leaners, complete with screenshots of the impugned WhatsApp conversation.
In fact, the lack of clarity and certainty in all this is the heart of the problem. “Something” seems to be afoot, “something” seems to be wrong, though its nature is undefined. It is almost impossible to achieve any sort of accurate understanding – “truth”, if you will – without thorough investigation. The Department did not acquit itself well in its enthusiasm to be seen to act, nor in its evident rush to (pre)judgement on the matter. Given that the issues are complex, contested and potentially calamitous, we should all have been willing to understand them properly on their own terms, not as we may assume them to be.
The consequences for all parties here are extreme: the learners of all backgrounds and standing, their families, the staff, and the Department. The learners in particular are very soon to write mid-year matric exams, the attendant stress being huge. Indications are that the charge sheets issued to the learners did not meet the basic standards that are required by law and policy.
This case illustrates something larger and more sinister at play. The dispute at Pretoria High School for Girls is emblematic of a form of engagement that a challenged and often angry society like South Africa can ill afford. Our perceptions of reality are often starkly polarised, and susceptible to appeals to our preconceptions and prejudices.
Narratives serve purposes. This is particularly the case in public life, as they are deployed to legitimate courses of action. We’ve seen this again and again, and not infrequently in respect of educational institutions. One might recall the notorious 2008 ministerial report on racism in universities, which found that “discrimination, in particular with regard to racism and sexism, is pervasive in our institutions”. Yet the report admitted that it “was unable, and this is a crucial caution, to verify the claims”. It added that it would not stand up to academic-level scrutiny, and lacked the capacity to be “fair”. To our mind, that would make it largely worthless as evidence to inform policy, but that didn’t stop the incumbent Minister of Higher Education from using the document as proof of the racial Armageddon playing itself out on campuses, and to buttress his demands for ever more aggressive “transformation”.
The question each of us, sadly, needs to ask is whether any given intervention in a polarising controversy is meant to resolve it, or is only intended to inflame it further. A crisis, after all, is not a thing to waste, and a powerful thing to weaponise (an opportunity some might not wish to disregard in the current political climate).
We also face a novel conjunction of circumstances in which political parties from divergent ideological traditions and representing diverse communities have formed a fragile working relationship. Racial polarisation presents an acute risk to this, and each participant in this arrangement is subject to the denigrating narratives by its nominal partners. Altogether, this presents opportunities for manipulation to some of South Africa’s most malign actors, nationally and provincially.
So, beware of accepting narrative assumptions at face value, especially where they hit at our most sensitive pain-points. Beware of assuming conclusions on the basis of incomplete evidence – and especially beware of wilfully discounting evidence because it is inconvenient to one or another fond belief. And we should be deeply suspicious of those who urge us to do any of this. This includes those in positions of official authority.
This case has functioned as a warning of the dangers of emotive and polarising impulses in our public life.
The adults the room – national and institutional, in the literal and figurative sense – need to stand up in this crisis and beyond. Calm heads need to prevail, rational discussion fostered, evidence dissected, and consequences applied accordingly. Have the humility and integrity to accept that things may be other than as we may assume. It is only in this way that genuine racism can be identified and tackled, and that it can be done in a way that builds cohesion rather than drives division. It is in this way that we can recapture truth in its full, uncomfortable and uncompromising form. Tangible evidence, it goes without saying, is foundational to all this, for narratives, however appealing or compelling they may be, can be the enemy of truth – and should never be allowed to overwhelm it.
Meanwhile, the Department, “disappointed” at the outcome of the disciplinary process, has determined that an investigation of the school is needed. “The department's decision,” Steve Mabona said, “is motivated by the fact that the report of the SGB's ruling made no mention of racism or discrimination against pupils, whereas there has been a strong presumption of the existence of such at the school." The Department has certainly made it clear that it shares that “presumption”, and the narratives flowing from it. And the view of evidence that its official has expressed might imply something about its approach to the task.
Terence Corrigan is projects and publications manager, and Sara Gon director of the Free Speech Union of South Africa, at the Institute of Race Relations.
This article was first published on Politicsweb on 7 August 2024
