Recent events within our country and on one of our campuses have ensured increased notoriety for South Africa.
It seems we are unable to shrug off the mantel of racist polecat of the world at a juncture in our historical development when we need to preserve the intellectual talent of our country.
We cannot afford to lose a single opportunity to strengthen our democracy because the forces that have always been opposing our progress as a multicultural but unified nation still lurk in urbane camouflage to subvert our people.
As an evil, criminal prank and in actions verging on psychopathy, some students from the Reitz men’s hostel on the University of the Free State campus induced staff — black staff — from their campus to participate in a sequence of games that ended in the staff consuming food on to which, it appears (in a video) and is alleged, one of the students had urinated.
When these events came to light there was a fierce outcry throughout South Africa and, indeed, internationally.
In the higher education sector the vice-chancellors’ association, Higher Education South Africa (Hesa), and the various vice-Âchancellors all made their voices known in a debate conducted by email.
My declaration that the gloves should come off, in particular, caused a sensation among my colleagues as well as in the media. I was, as should be known, speaking from a particularly informed position.
The University of Limpopo was formed when the University of the North and the Medical University of Southern Africa (Medunsa) merged into a megastructure.
I have been its principal, going by various appellations, from its inception.
But as a former student and later academic at the University of the North, I am, to put it bluntly, au fait with the rigours of racial discrimination and its humiliating effects on black people, especially, in South Africa.
I have been witness to the occupation of the university by the South African Defence Force during the late Eighties, an army of white soldiers intimidating, threatening, arresting and interrogating students and staff, most of whom were black. It is in this context that my statement that there is too much bonhomie among the vice-chancellors should be seen.
In our country lack of accountability has become characteristic of our institutions. Prisoners escape; the relevant minister remains in office. Utilities fail; the managers are awarded extraordinary bonuses. Hostels on campuses are allowed to continue as enclaves of racial privilege more than a decade into our democratic dispensation; the vice-chancellor remains in office and the council, too.
I share the views expressed that the University of the Free State has dealt with the matter that brought about the present debate most transparently, even admirably.
I concur with Hesa’s published statement and the commission appointed to investigate racism and its intention to promote non-racialism and diversity on our campuses.
Yet the crux of the matter lies with the depth and breadth of the leadership, the ethical leadership, at the helms of our educational institutions.
When I spoke of the culture of bonhomie I was referring to a collective idea that all was well, that it was business as usual, as if we were still locked into an era of segregation and of indisputable, untouchable authority.
I was not singling out any particular person or university.
My concern is that we have not been paying close attention to things that matter most.
Others have spoken about the transformation of the curriculum, for example. This is, of course, essential, but it is not a goal to be achieved in the short term, disparately. It is a part of the whole.
But now that we as a collective have, more or less, admitted and accepted our culpability, it is up to society, our equal and democratic society, to engage with higher education as stakeholders to ensure that our education is of value and that the principles of fairness and Âjustice and transparency are Âpursued relentlessly.
Professor Mahlo Mokgalong is vice-chancellor of the University of Limpopo