African Laughter - Doris May Lessing [196]
A friend visiting an American university where history is taught as it was twenty or thirty years ago, said he kept thinking of Fathers and Sons, the chapter where Bazarov takes his friend to visit the past in the shape of two little old people who are embodiments of the Enlightenment, unchanged by everything that has happened, living in a dream of past righteousness, triumphant rectitude.
Straws in a Variable III Wind
On this trip–not the previous one in 1988–I have heard the word ‘intellectuals’ used pejoratively from many different kinds of people.
‘What is meant by intellectuals?’
‘The students, they are rocking the boat.’
‘The dissidents.’
‘What dissidents?’
‘Oh you know, negative people who criticize.’
Similarly, people talk about ‘sell-outs’, used as mindlessly as the phrase is here. ‘Sold out what?’ ‘If you have to ask then I’m afraid I can’t help you.’ The 1960s still cast a long shadow.
In Zimbabwe the term comes from the War, when dozens of people were murdered, ‘got rid of’ because of its power to destabilize the thinking processes. Now it can mean people you disapprove of, not unlike our recent use of the word ‘fascist’ as an all-purpose term of abuse.
‘Sell-out’ is often indistinguishable from ‘South African spy’. In Zambia, where things fall apart and scapegoats are needed, South African spies are glimpsed everywhere. Eight months ago in Zimbabwe I heard nothing about South African spies but this time some obviously harmless citizens are ‘spies’. Of course there are South African spies, but South Africa need never employ spies at all: if the aim is to ‘destabilize’ its neighbours, their paranoia would be enough to cripple them.
On a road between Bulawayo and Harare, at a road block, a policeman was suspicious because a map was spread on my lap. What did we need a map for? We replied this was not the main road, and therefore we needed a map. Thoughts common to such occasions, such as, that real spies would hardly be likely to spread maps open on their laps, seemed to lack force, faced with the man’s furious hostility. That region of romping farce, so useful for the theatre, is because of the contrast between the seriousness (we have to suppose) of the spy processes, and its manifestations lower down; for instance, a petty official told to keep an eye open for spies from The Republic. South Africans abound in Zimbabwe but mostly as tourists. In every place of beauty or interest, which means nearly everywhere, are groups of South Africans taking the air and admiring the view. All of them, when driving on little-frequented roads, would have maps spread open on…but already we are in farcical area that characterizes spies and spying.
Tekere is of course in the pay of the South Africans: government propagandists and the C.I.O. spread rumours that he is, and he makes an advantage by joking about it. When Joshua Nkomo was out of favour he was supposed to be a spy. No one believed it. Any effective critic, the student leaders, people who show signs of talent and originality–any or all of them may find themselves suddenly described as South African spies. This is not, as we know, an uncommon thing in totalitarian societies. And envy was ever a great breeder of spies.
There are sane people in high places who try to combat this lunacy. Canaan Banana, at the university, is one. He has just said publicly that Zimbabwe is a democracy and everyone is entitled to say what they think at all times.
The university has been in trouble ever since Liberation. First, it has students. Second, people work in it who think. Third, a great many academics come from other countries with ideas and information. Every kind of effort is made to keep the university subject to the control of the Party, but it is like an ebullient ox that has no intention of being inspanned. The latest restriction causing shame and fury is that people coming to do research must have permits from the Ministry of Internal Affairs.