TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/111290/1112510.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 10.2 KB | 241 lines

                                                                                INTERVIEW, Page 16

Taking the Measure of American Racism


South African-born MARK MATHA BANE, author of Kaffir Boy in
America, compares two forms of apartheid -- here and there

By BRUCE W. NELAN and Mark Matha Bane (Mark Mathabane)


    Q. "Do you think human beings are inherently racist?"

    A. Having lived in South Africa and the U.S., I think that
racism will always exist. For one reason or another, there will
always be people who are driven by fear, who deny the humanity
of others. In South Africa, the problem is not so much the white
people as it is apartheid. Apartheid has codified racism as a
means to preserve its own power.


    Q. Is it the same in both countries?

    A. When I came to the U.S. in 1978, I believed that America
had long since resolved its racial problems, that blacks were
equal citizens. In many ways, I found that to be true. The U.S.
seemed to be a hundred years ahead of South Africa. Then I
discovered, to my horror, that not much had changed in people's
hearts. White people's attitudes toward blacks have changed very
little since the days of lynchings. Without that change, laws
are relatively impotent. In many towns, there is a black world
and a white world. I told my friends that I did not escape from
the bondage of apartheid to end up segregated in America.


    Q. What kind of segregation are you referring to?

    A. One of the most segregated hours in America is 11 a.m.
on Sunday. This was most revealing to me. If people who are
motivated by the noble precepts of Christianity cannot bring
themselves to accept the equality of people of another race by
joining in worship with them, then how can they feel on the
other days of the week?

    What was really shocking was discovering that the black
world in America resembled the world I had left, the townships
of South Africa -- the poor buildings, the bad roads, the
hopelessness, the rage, the frustration on the faces of the
black boys and girls I met. These were the same emotions I felt
when I was fighting for my life under apartheid. Everyone in
this country is an accomplice to what is happening in the black
ghettos of America.


    Q. What do you see happening in the ghettos?

    A. I see we are dying in many of those places. Young people
are growing up in homes where family life is unknown. For me,
in South Africa, family was the citadel, the center that kept
me alive. Also, what does this society hold up for its young
people as the values to emulate? On television and in real life
you extol materialism, villains and people who circumvent the
law and achieve success by cheating and lying.

    Finally, the stereotypes. My God, 90% of white South
Africans go through a lifetime without entering a black
township! I came to New York City, where I lived for a time, and
found that a majority of white Americans seldom set foot in a
ghetto. They know nothing about the real life of black people.
They react to what they see on television. I know because that
is the way they reacted to me.


    Q. You are now living in North Carolina. Do you encounter
any hostility here?

    A. No. I asked myself why people did not react to me the way
the Northerners did. I found that in places in the South where
change has occurred, it has been genuine. Many white people go
out of their way not to be seen as racists, not to give a racial
connotation to any situation. It does not surprise me that more
and more blacks are moving back south. Compare Birmingham with
Boston, for example.


    Q. And do you think the white Afrikaners in South Africa can
fundamentally change their attitudes toward black people?

    A. On many levels I do. The Afrikaner is at heart an
African. He knows that the land must be shared somehow. We must
play a reassuring role, embracing the Afrikaners in spite of the
hideous past. If we do not do that, I think they would rather
die fighting than compromise. Many of the younger generation of
whites can come to accept the equality of black people and
respect them.


    Q. In your lectures on college campuses, what kind of advice
do you give black students?

    A. I tell them: don't fool yourself into believing that
simple mediocrity will earn you a fair share. You must remember
that you are judged by standards set by the white majority. I
also tell them not to give in to the peer pressure in the black
community, where success is equated with "trying to be white."
A young black can be pressured into not doing well because
getting good grades is perceived as trying to be white.


    Q. Why is that?

    A. The heritage of slavery has left many young blacks with
the feeling that they do not measure up. They set their own
standards and say, judge me by my standards. While it takes
energy and talent to be a rebel, it is time for the black
leadership in this country to set the example for these young
people by showing them you can succeed in America in spite of
racism.


    Q. Don't many of them feel their schools are so inferior
that there is no point in attending?

    A. A little education is better than none. Despite the
inferiority of Bantu education in South Africa, I learned
certain positive things. I learned discipline and
responsibility, to delay gratification. Above all, I learned
that knowledge can overcome oppression. I ask young black people
what they believe about themselves, and they tell me in a very
sad way that black people are not as good as whites.

    The worst disease of black youth in the ghetto is defeatism.
Given the pervasiveness of intolerance and prejudice in this
country, I cannot believe there will ever be a clear path for
minority children to follow, free of obstacles and racism. There
won't be. But I don't tell them to do the impossible. I tell
them what I have done.


    Q. Didn't you also feel despair when you were growing up in
a poverty-stricken South African township?

    A. There was a time when I thought that if life meant
unending suffering and pain, there was no use living. At 10
years old, I contemplated suicide. What kept me going was my
discovery of books. In the world of books I could travel around
the world, go to the moon, do great things. That made it
worthwhile to live another day.


    Q. How did you get interested in books?

    A. My mother's stories planted the seed. Yet she was
illiterate. So you cannot tell me that a parent must be educated
in order to impress this upon a child. A parent who is aware of
his or her responsibility will do everything to insure that the
child will at least have a fighting chance.


    Q. So you believe that education is the catalyst for
positive changes?

    A. Undoubtedly. With education you are made to accept the
universality of human beings. You can see yourself in other
people. But the American educational system needs a total
overhaul, a rearrangement of priorities. We must begin to put
discipline and respect back in our schools. I am appalled at the
disrespect that many kids have for the educational process, let
alone the poor teachers. We also need to put an end to apartheid
on high school and college campuses. Whites sit over here,
blacks over there, and nobody communicates. How can we expect
destructive attitudes not to persist when we talk about one
another but never talk to one another?


    Q. At many universities, blacks and other minorities argue
that the curriculum is focused on the ideas of white males and
that other viewpoints should be introduced. Do you agree?

    A. When we are champions for increasing black studies, we
must not forget that we are equally obligated to learn about the
great ideas and the great books of Western civilization. The
idea that this is oppressive cultural imperialism is wrong --
as long as we remember white students' responsibility to learn
about other cultures. In Europe and Africa people are fluent in
three or four languages; you come to America and find that
people don't even speak English fluently.


    Q. When blacks denounce whites and reject their values, are
they expressing anger or bigotry?

    A. If you refuse to recognize that not all whites are
racist, why should you expect the white world to differentiate
individual blacks from the stereotype? When I find this among
reasonable black people, I think it is bigotry and call it
bigotry.


    Q. Have you encountered stereotyping yourself?

    A. When I came to the U.S., one of the hardest things for
me to cope with was the way black Americans perceived me as an
African. People judged me as somehow not worthy because I was
not ashamed to admit that my parents were illiterate, that I
grew up in a shack without running water or electricity, slept
on a piece of cardboard. I did not have the material success
that gave people status and identity.


    Q. Do you think American welfare programs meet the needs of
the urban poor?

    A. Welfare is necessary in every society, but a problem
arises when you encourage able-bodied men and women to believe
that they can get something for nothing. The real question is
how to make people the active agents in their own lives. In
enclaves that belong to the Irish, to Italians, to Jews, to
Poles, Koreans, Vietnamese, these communities are more or less
self-sustaining. The money they earn provides jobs and
development in the community. There is one conspicuous
exception: the black community. I think it's because we have
been taught to distrust ourselves. Once blacks have made it,
they feel they don't have any responsibility for those who have
not.


    Q. Can politics provide a route to significant improvements
for blacks?

    A. Black leaders have to get into the habit of telling the
truth like it is, rather than flattering people for votes and
keeping them away from painful truths, telling them that all the
problems lie over there, in racism. It is almost a universal
belief among black people that there is a conspiracy by white
society against blacks, that racism is practiced by all whites
because it is inherent in their nature. I say, let me indulge
my worst fears but let me do something constructive. It's time
we stopped just enduring and began prospering.