A. B. Xuma: “Bridging the Gap between White and Black in South Africa”

Explanation and Analysis of the Document

At the beginning of his speech, Xuma dispassionately suggests that he intends to challenge, in an unbiased manner, his listeners to look for truth and facts and to act on the results of their search. He informs his audience that his focus is on “the ills of our race relations” but stresses that he has no real answers to the so-called native question because it is a “human problem” and no change can be achieved until the African voice is included in the key branches of government, the current absence of which he deplores. Xuma juxtaposes white minority fears and uncertainty with African dissatisfaction, anxiety, and loss of confidence in white institutions. Eventually, he reminds his listeners of the prevailing racial doctrine in the Afrikaner republics that emerged in the South African interior after 1836: “There shall be no equality between Black and White either in Church or in State.”

Xuma informs his audience about parts of the U.S. Constitution, especially the Fourteenth and Fifteenth amendments. As part of his U.S.–South Africa comparisons, he refers to a large number of black American landowners and a pre-1930 Supreme Court decision about residential segregation. But the figures he provides are exaggerated, and the Supreme Court did not begin to rule favorably on the subject of residential segregation until after World War II in the case of Shelley v. Kramer (1948). (The case struck down restrictive covenants, that is, agreements made by neighbors not to sell their homes to African Americans.) Because this was a Christian-sponsored conference, Xuma asks if Jesus would approve of the “Native Policy” of the “Christian country” of South Africa and whether the nation's racial practices conform to the conferees “profession of the Christian faith.” Then he issues his challenge: “How are we going to bridge the gap between White and Black?”

Xuma's talk comes to focus on the racially discriminatory policies, which he periodically refers to as “colour bars,” promoted by the South African government. The South Africa Act, passed by the British parliament in 1909, established the constitutional framework for the creation of the Union of South Africa on May 31, 1910. This act set the groundwork for political discrimination in that it excluded Africans from the Parliament of South Africa. Xuma then speaks of the restrictive, repressive, and discriminatory laws that Parliament passed after 1910. He discusses the disabilities, injustices, and reduced economic opportunities resulting from legislation. He is particularly concerned about two threats in 1930: a bill designed to remove Africans from the common voters' roll in Cape Province and legislation he interprets as potentially restricting freedom of speech. Eligible black Africans in Cape Province alone, provided they met economic qualifications in place since 1853, were allowed to exercise the franchise. But this right was threatened in 1930. Prime Minister J. B. M. Hertzog had formed a government in 1924 after his National Party won, along with its coalition ally, the Labor Party, a majority of seats in the parliament.

In 1926 Hertzog introduced the Representation of Natives in Parliament bill as part of a package of four bills that he contended would settle the “native question” for the foreseeable future. This bill was designed to end African voting in the Cape. Because suffrage for Africans was an entrenched clause in the South Africa Act, a two-thirds majority of Parliament had to approve such an amendment. Xuma voices particular worry about the threat to the vote in the Cape Province as he asks, “Has the African ever abused the privilege?” and emphasizes that Africans voted responsibly. He identifies a racial reason why whites opposed the vote for Africans: Africans might sway the outcome of an election because voters exercise their right “intelligently” and are “a factor to be reckoned with,” terms implying a measure of equality, a notion that was anathema to many whites. Prime Minister Hertzog had been unable to muster that two-thirds majority, but Xuma rightly feared that this threat might become a reality in the near future. In fact, Cape Africans lost their right to vote in 1936.

Xuma identifies pertinent clauses of the Native Administration Act of 1927 and the 1930 Riotous Assemblies Act that could be used to curb the right to freedom of speech, of special concern to an African leader trying to change the discriminatory policies prevailing in his country. However, neither Xuma nor most other members of the educated African elite were inclined to speak or write about their opposition to segregation in South Africa, with the generally moderate tone of their statements owing to their unwillingness to promote industrial strikes or violent opposition to the government. In fact, most of the black elite spoke of their loyalty to South Africa (especially during World War I) and their admiration for Western civilization and democratic government. African demands, as evidenced in Xuma's speech, focused on economic opportunity, justice, a political voice through the franchise, and the repeal of racially discriminatory laws, most of which applied even to well-educated Africans. On occasion, members of Parliament debated whether educated Africans should be exempted from a particular law, such as the Natives Land Act (1913), but the majority voted against exemptions in every case.

Three specific discriminatory policies discussed by Xuma are the pass system, rural land distribution, and education inequalities. He is particularly indignant about passes, which were used by white society to control the movements of the African population, especially migration from rural areas to cities. Restricting mobility seriously limited African economic opportunity, and there were important implications to the enforcement of the pass laws: Even highly educated blacks like Xuma could be stopped at any time by white policemen demanding to see their passes. Indeed, Xuma, a well-dressed professional driving his own car, was once assaulted by a policeman because he had left his documents in another suit pocket. Any African's failure to produce the pass could lead to imprisonment for days or weeks. Xuma and other African leaders condemned such incarcerations for technical offenses as contributing to disrespect for the law and risking the creation of new criminals because the innocent were incarcerated together with hardened criminals.

Xuma emphasizes the great importance of land to the African, and, as did many of his African peers, condemns the 1913 Natives Land Act. This law prohibited Africans from buying land in two of the four provinces, Transvaal and Natal, but also included a clause allowing the government to make exceptions to this prohibition. Several thousand exceptions had been allowed by 1930, but Xuma and his peers rarely discussed them. In fact, the land act left Africans only 7 percent of the land in 1913 (with the percentage increasing only slightly by 1930), not the 20 percent to which Xuma erroneously refers. He is correct, however, in stating that many African areas, called reserves in South Africa (similar to American Indian reservations), were overcrowded. It is true that the Natives Land Act limited and slowed buying by Africans.

Xuma is concerned with the problem of wholly inadequate (and segregated) education facilities for Africans and with the equally insufficient (and discriminatory) government funding for African teachers and schools. African education was overwhelmingly left as a missionary responsibility, while the government assumed responsibility for white education. Xuma reminds his audience of how, despite these inequalities, a select few well-educated men became important leaders within black South Africa. He decries the government's refusal to accept funding from the Rockefeller Foundation to establish an African medical school. The training of black doctors and nurses was a matter of lengthy debate at this time, because educators seriously limited African entry to white-dominated medical schools. The Rockefeller Foundation's offer was never accepted.

Xuma was baptized in the Wesleyan Church and remained an active Christian during his life. His address demonstrates his Christian point of view and the sincerity of his appeal to Christianity and its values. He invokes God and refers to Christian ideals to urge his listeners to dedicate their lives to pursuing righteousness and justice (a word he uses at least six times). He states that “God speaks to our students in this Conference” and that “our students are summoned to apply the principles and the teachings of Jesus Christ … to rechristianise and humanise western civilisation.” He asks, “What is our task as Christian man and woman?” And he thanks God for the increasing number of whites who are “fair minded” and show “a devotion to the cause of the African,” especially as exemplified by the delegates to the present conference.

Two institutions that have earned the respect of Africans, Xuma notes with praise, are the judiciary and the newspapers, “the pillars by the aid of which and upon which we hope to build our bridges.” In general, black South Africans often complained about the injustices of the judicial system, especially in cases where whites and blacks were opposed in court, such as when whites were accused of felonies against blacks and juries were determining guilt or innocence. Xuma's discussion of the uneven implementation of the 1927 Immorality Act offers examples. There may be two explanations for Xuma's praise of judges: First, he was differentiating between members of the independent judiciary, which included legally trained judges, those he was praising, and magistrates, who were government administrators assigned certain judicial powers by the Department of Justice. Second, he knew of judges who spoke out against injustices and freed Africans when insufficient evidence was presented to convict them. Xuma's strong praise of the press undoubtedly refers to the English-language press, most likely newspapers such as the Rand Daily Mail and the Star of Johannesburg and the Cape Times of Cape Town.

Some of Xuma's remarks were directed toward the black portion of the audience, where blacks equaled almost 58 percent of attendees. To them he emphasizes self-reliance: Africans “must more and more organise themselves and do things for themselves.” He still recognizes that cooperation with Europeans is helpful and should be encouraged, but ultimately Xuma tells the African students to assert themselves and avoid waiting “for some one to do things for them.” He eloquently emphasizes the idea of a common humanity: “We must discover Africa's greatest wealth—the African himself. He transcends all; he excels all.” Then, as if to counter the latent racism among whites attending the conference, he reminds his audience that the African “is a human being.” For his white South African listeners, Xuma asserts that the “Native question” can be solved only by giving the African the rights of citizenship, including consent to legislation. He reminds whites that the demands of the majority are “moderate,” that the African seeks not “preferential treatment” but only a “chance, a square deal.… All he wants is opportunity to work out his salvation.” Xuma entreats whites to “leave the doors of opportunity wide open for all who may enter and provide the ladder to success for all who would climb.” Referring to “partnership” and “co-operation,” Xuma insists that whites must “hear from the African … must more work with and less work for the African.” He calls for a “revolution” of popular ideas and ideals, “to recognize the African as a human being with human desires and aspirations which must be satisfied.”

The task at hand, then, “is to build our bridge between White and Black,” following “the path of justice and fair dealing.” The most important partners in that bridge-building effort will be educated Africans. Xuma wants his white audience to understand that

the educated African is our hope, our bridge. He is an asset that … White South Africa cannot afford either to ignore or to alienate without disastrous results.… It is he, and he alone, who can best interpret the European to the African, and the African to the European.

In a ringing conclusion, Xuma proclaims that “our aim, our motto, our ideal should be, therefore, ‘Freedom, liberty, justice to all and privilege to none.’”