Why new names won’t erase the pain of the past
Editing colonial titles matters — but marks a mere start of what must be reformed, says Thembalethu Zulu
WHAT’S in a name? Apparently a lot — where the University of Cape Town is involved. Seemingly no sooner had the stench of burning artwork and sight of shacks left the perfectly manicured fields of the university than vice-chancellor Max Price sent out an e-mail to alumni that piqued my interest.
He called for the university community to participate in a “historic process” to contribute to “presenting views and arguments about whether certain [building] names should be changed or left as is”.
Price went on to state that the move was “highlighted last year with the discourse around the removal of the statue of Cecil J Rhodes from campus”.
This was a knee-jerk reaction, I thought. In light of the issues that the NO LINK: Cape Colony prime minister Leander Starr Jameson university faced around institutionalised racism, accommodation woes and student unrest, opting to address the changing of names as one of the first public moves towards managing the situation seemed like an attempt at glossing over the issues.
A friend and fellow alumnus echoed my sentiment, saying it felt as though the university was “putting lipstick on a pig”.
On interrogation, I was surprised at some of what I unearthed on the structures that had formed an integral part of my education.
A task team on the naming of buildings, rooms, spaces and roads had been set up to “expedite the process”, said Dr Maanda Mulaudzi.
A lecturer and historian with a particular interest in “African and agrarian history”, he heads a team of six, comprising academic and nonacademic staff, as well as two students — a team put together by the university council in the second half of last year. Costs for the process have yet to be determined.
First on the hit list is Jameson Memorial Hall. The great structure stands tall on the university’s main campus, flanked by the towering backdrop of the Devil’s Peak and Table Mountain range.
The hall — which is used to host graduation ceremonies, student exams, important lectures and other student activities — owes its name to Sir Leander Starr Jameson.
A quick search revealed that Jameson was a medical doctor whose reputation soon brought him into contact with Rhodes, resulting in his leaving the medical profession to participate in the pioneering expedition to Rhodesia (Zimbabwe).
In 1895, he initiated the Jameson Raid into the Boer colony of Transvaal in an effort to support a
DOUBLE HISTORIES: Jameson Hall in 1955, left, and this week, right brewing rebellion by foreign settlers.
The raid failed and Jameson was captured within a few days and turned over by President Paul Kruger to the British to be punished for his unauthorised endeavour.
He was sent to London for trial and sentenced to imprisonment for 15 months. On his release, he returned to South Africa and, despite the raid, had a successful political life, becoming leader of the Progressive Party and eventually prime minister of the Cape Colony. He returned to England in 1912, where he died in 1917.
How he came to have his name etched on the building that has become central to the institution’s fibre is one of interest.
“There was little basis for calling it ‘Jameson’,” said former university registrar Hugh Amoore. “When he died, several people raised money for building the hall.”
With no connection to the university at all, Jameson had become the name behind one of the institution’s most significant buildings.
Prior to this, all I’d known of was “Jammie”. This is what students call his monument — the central meeting place on upper campus — plus the shuttle that transports students from lower campus. The name also refers to the steps to the hall — in summer the spot to catch the sun’s best rays.
I had mistakenly ignored how having a building named after a man who was instrumental in some of the darkest history of our country was an insidious perpetuation of the colonial pervasions that still haunt the university. My initial assumption had been that students were more concerned with the quality of their experience than with changing a name.
“People are uncritical, unthinking,” said Chumani Maxwele, the student who emptied a toilet on the Rhodes statue — sparking what is now known as the #RhodesMustFall movement.
The movement has proposed changing the name to “Marikana Memorial Hall”.
“We need to acknowledge those who worked for the gold that made the money for the foundation of the university,” Maxwele said.
Emeritus Professor Howard Phillips, who is working on a history of UCT, said: “The university needs to consider its present and its past. [It] can’t turn its back on the past so it needs to find a way of recognising both.
“Names that are outside of individuals would probably make sense. There is a principle [on] naming a building after individuals who might be favoured at a particular time, but then fall out of favour. Naming them after ideals might make a good deal more sense.”
Kgotsi Chikane, a student instrumental in the #FeesMustFall movement and who is studying a master’s degree at Wits University, agrees.
Chikane was recently cleared of treason charges after he and five other students were arrested for their protest outside parliament late last year. He said symbolic names would be more suited to changing the “institutional culture”.
Other buildings up for renaming include the male residence Smuts Hall, the Beattie Building and the Wernher Beit and Otto Beit Buildings — all named after colonialists whose history is smeared with the stain of colonial abuses.
Be that as it may, the infected wound at the university has grown too septic to treat with a namechange bandage — one that raises issues that include whether or not donors should be reimbursed following name changes, and emotional attachments formed after decades of referring to certain buildings by a particular name.
What the university needs is clear actions that speak to the matters at hand. Renaming Smuts Hall will not change the hostilities of students who feel that they are still being unfairly left outside the building’s perfectly hedged quarters. Months of debate on whether Beattie should be called something else will not appease students whose education is interrupted by their protesting counterparts.
The idea is not to ridicule an initiative that definitely has a place in a constantly evolving country, but to highlight the balance needed in managing a university that is somewhat under siege by a fraction of students who feel disenfranchised even before making it into the hallowed Jameson Hall.
This week the Wits naming committee agreed Senate House should be renamed Solomon Mahlangu House. The move is being widely lauded, although it must still be considered by Wits university’s governance structures.
It is such bold steps that UCT seeks to emulate. Despite its challenges, one cannot deny that it is making moves towards righting the wrongs of the past.
Submissions for ideas on a new name for Jameson Hall can be sent to marius.lund@uct.ac.za by Friday
The wound at the university has grown too septic to treat with a name-change bandage