The covenant - James A. Michener [479]
'You what . . .'
'Yes. New rules. Any boy or girl who speaks Dutch instead of English must stand in the corner, with the tall hat and a sign which says "I spoke Dutch today." '
'But Mr. Amberson himself speaks Dutch. You said so.'
'Not any more. He said we'd been in class half a year now and must never again speak Dutch.'
'That monster!' Johanna snapped. She was twenty-three, a fierce, hardworking young woman, and if this schoolmaster was mistreating her brother, she would teach him a lesson.
'No,' Detlev said quietly through his tears. 'He is not a bad man. He is very kind, and he helps me with my numbers. But he says that our country is now Englishthe war decided thatand we must forget we were ever Dutch.'
'Good God!' Johanna cried, but to her surprise it was General de Groot who pacified her.
'We must remember that this is still war,' the old man said, and he took from his pocket a newspaper containing a new set of Hoggenheimer cartoons, proving that the Jews were stealing the country. It carried also a statement by the English high commissioner, which unknowingly outlined the nature of the insidious battle the Boers now faced:
If ten years hence there are three men of British race to two of Dutch, this country will be safe and prosperous. If there are three of Dutch and two of British, we shall have perpetual difficulty.
Coldly, De Groot explained the next level of strategies: 'The English are doing everything they can to bring in more of their people. Bring them in and drown us in a wave of English books, English plays, English education.'
'But you said you wanted me to learn English,' Detlev said.
'I do. Detlev, I want you to learn all of everything. Whenever he offers you a new English word, take it and say to yourself, "This is a knife I shall use against you."'
'When?'
'Every day of your life from now on. When you are twelve, use your knowledge against the English boys that age. At eighteen, use it against the young men in college. At thirty, against the Hoggenheimers in Johannesburg. At fifty, against the government people in Pretoria. And when you're an old man like me, keep using it. The enemy is the English, and they can be destroyed only by cleverness.'
Johanna, deeply angered by the psychological abuse heaped on Detlev by the dunce's cap and the degrading sign, wanted to ride right in to Venloo and confront Mr. Amberson, but the old general had more to say: 'Accept English in your mind, but keep Dutch in your heart. For if a conqueror once makes you accept his language, he makes you his slave. We were defeated . . .'
He had never voiced that admission before. He had said, 'We've lost the battles. We've lost the war.' But he had never conceded that he had been defeated. Now, as he uttered the terrible words, he rose from his chair and stamped about the little kitchen. 'We have been defeatedyour father, I, Oom Paul, General de la Rey, General Smuts . . .' He stopped speaking, for the words were grinding in his throat. Then with a great roar he cried, 'But the next war we shall win. The war for ideas. You and I will see the day when Dutch is the only language in this landthe only one that counts. There will be no English spoken where men of power assemble.' Towering over Detlev, he pointed a long finger at him: 'And you will be responsible.'
Johanna felt her own responsibility, and early Monday morning when the time came for General de Groot to take the boy back to school, she surprised him by saying sternly, 'I take him today.'
She arrived at the school half an hour early and found that Mr. Amberson was there, arranging his materials. The first thing she saw, waiting in the corner, was the dunce's cap and the elegantly lettered sign: I spoke dutch today. Walking directly to them, she said, 'Why would you dare use these?'
'I use the cap every day. For numbers missed, for words misspelled.'
'But this?' she demanded, shaking the sign at him. 'It's half a year now, Miss van Doorn. The children must begin seriously to learn the language under which they will live for the rest