Assorted Notes

FRIDAY, 19 MAY 2017

Johnny asks his father why they are Western Province supporters, while uncle Sam and his sons support the Blue Bulls.

Johnny’s father replies: “Because Western Province is the best team in the country.”

“Then why doesn’t uncle Sam also support Western Province?” Johnny enquires.

“Because,” Johnny’s father answers with a smile, “they think the Blue Bulls are the best team in the country.”

Then Johnny’s father sees the frown on his son’s forehead. “Uncle Sam supports the Blue Bulls,” he adds, “because they live in Pretoria, and the Blue Bulls are the local team. But we know Western Province is actually the best team in the country. That’s why we support them.”

* * *

My parents made a critical mistake when they raised me. In what can certainly be seen as proof that they are honest people who sincerely believed what they had been taught, they indoctrinated me with the conviction that I had to swear loyalty to the Christian religion, not only because it was the dominant local religion but because they saw it as the truth.

As I learned more about the history of the Christian religion and the historical development of theological ideas, it became increasingly clear that the Christian religion was a human creation. I also found it increasingly difficult to see it as something other than “our” religion, which is “true” because we believe in it. Discouragement to investigate any further also seemed very suspicious to me. Why was I not supposed to read more on the subject? Why was it bad to think about it? Why did I have to be wary of “smart academics”?

My parents, who still believe in things that make sense to them and that make life bearable to them, instilled in me the desire to follow the truth – little knowing where it would lead.

* * *

I write that my parents indoctrinated me with the Christian religion. This is a controversial word choice. Indoctrination is seen as something that totalitarian states do with the populations under their control, or something that cult leaders do with their followers.

But is that not what many parents also do? They expose their children to particular political affiliations and religious beliefs since before they are old enough to understand. And sometimes one set of cultural values, as well as specific political affiliations and religious beliefs, are not only promoted at the expense of other values, affiliations and beliefs, alternatives are often severely criticised, and any positive views of them actively discouraged.

I do not doubt that most parents have good intentions in how they raise their children, but if something looks like indoctrination, sounds like indoctrination, and produces the result that usually comes from indoctrination, I think it is not disrespectful to call it indoctrination.

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By the way, here is what Wikipedia says on the subject: “Indoctrination is the process of inculcating a person with ideas, attitudes, cognitive strategies or professional methodologies. Humans are a social animal inescapably shaped by cultural context, and thus some degree of indoctrination is implicit in the parent-child relationship, and has an essential function in forming stable communities of shared values.”

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THURSDAY, 4 MAY 2017

Tonight, out of the blue, I thought about “lost history”. As an example, I thought of the Schoeman community at Vissershoek (Fisherman’s Corner), north of Pretoria, from the 1890s to at least the 1940s (when my father lived there as a child – my grandmother was a Schoeman).

Lives were lived there – but who still knows about it? Who can still remember the stories? Who can still say what happened on Christmas Eve in 1915? Who can still talk about the incident one quiet Sunday afternoon in 1927? Who remembers the reason why the children were so afraid one dark night in the winter of 1931?

The family cemetery is full. The wind gently rustles through the trees. The voices are quiet.

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MONDAY, 10 APRIL 2017

Last night I dreamt of going through “immigration control”, but I couldn’t find my “passport”. I gave the official a document, but it turned out to be merely a green South African “ID book”, and it wasn’t even my own. I got a little worked up, because I was sure I knew where my “passport” was. After repeatedly probing my “bag” I managed to find it.

For years I’ve been having recurring dreams about heading to the airport or train station, but I’d be struggling with too much luggage. Or, I would be wasting time with trivialities and then can’t finish packing. Time after time in every one of these dreams I miss the train or flight.

Clearly this latest dream is part of the travel theme, but at least I made it to the airport this time. I just couldn’t prove who I was – so to speak.

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SUNDAY, 9 APRIL 2017

Fifty years from now only some history teachers, historians and people who are truly interested in the subject will be able to speak for more than sixty seconds about the Second World War. For most people it will simply have been too long ago, and too many things would have happened in this century that would fill people’s heads.

I mean, how many people today can still converse intelligently for more than thirty seconds about the First World War? How many people during the First World War could talk intelligently for as long as a minute about the Napoleonic wars? And remember: the events of the first two decades of the 1800s were front page news in at least major cities at the time they occurred, and hot topics of discussion around dinner tables and in the streets!

The same question can be asked about the French Revolution at the end of the eighteenth century, or the Protestant Revolution and the religious wars of the sixteenth century. A hundred years after these events, how many people could still have a factual discussion about these events?

Fact is, time moves on. Old history makes way for new history. Veterans of the greatest war for a generation or more die one after another until there is no one left who has experienced that war first-hand. And people’s interests change.

History of which you will only be ignorant today if you are uneducated or living in a cave will in many cases be so obscure in several decades’ time that people will look at you funny if you can indeed have a conversation for more than a minute about it – or, depending on the subject and the decade, a monologue.

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