The news that the University of Fort Hare, in the town of Alice in South Africa* was burning, reached me a short time ago. The reason apparently was that students didn't approve of the top administrators. Their response was to set alight five buildings on the campus, completely destroying them. Much can be said in response to this senseless act, but instead I want to relate something quite different, an act of unity, rather than an act of destruction.
The time was 1948, a short time after the Nationalist government first came into power. The scene was a consulting room on the third floor of a building in the center of the town of Bloemfontein. Three men from three different backgrounds were involved.
The first man was Prof. Z.K Matthews. His family originated in Botswana but had moved to Kimberley. He was then head of African studies at the University of Fort Hare. This unique institution had been established in1912 and was known as the "proud cradle of African leadership", since many African leaders were graduates.
The second man was Dr. James Moroka. At that time he was the head of the Barolang tribe in Thaba N'Chu, and one of three doctors in the town. His father had sent him to England to study years previously since the one doctor in town would not attend to African patients, even though, many years before, the Barolong tribe and the Voortrekkers had been partners in defeating the surrounding warring African tribes.
The third man was my father, Dr. W. Gordon, who had been practicing as a doctor in Thaba N'Chu for a number of years and had just left to set up a practice in Bloemfontein. During his time in Thaba N'Chu Dr. Moroka had been a respected colleague and friend.
One day, Dr Moroka called my father, to ask if he could bring Prof. Mathews, who had a serious heart complaint, to be examined for a second opinion. A time was set and my father made sure that he would be free all that morning since the travel time from Thaba N'chu to Bloemfontein could not be calculated to the minute. Sitting in his surgery a call came through, from a public phone box. "We have a problem. The liftman says 'Whites only'. There is no way our patient can walk up three flights of stairs in his condition. What now?"
"Come back to the lift. I will make sure you can get in."
How was this accomplished? There was really no need for the lift man. The lift worked then just as lifts do now. The man was employed there because he was Afrikaans, not well educated and needed a job. So there he stood, with a clean white coat, similar to the one worn by doctors, pressing buttons all day.
My father pulled out a ten-shilling note and called up the lift. Holding out the money he said, "Man, you know that sometimes you need to go to the bathroom? Well maybe now is the time you need to go."
The man took the money, gave a knowing smile, and disappeared down the corridor. Into the lift went my father, down to the first floor, into the lift came the two men, and up to the third floor and the consulting room.
After the examination was complete, the same routine, but reversed, another ten-shilling note, another disappearing liftman, and the two men were on the street and walking to their car.
Now my father, still in his doctor's white coat, went to the lift, followed immediately by a well-dressed white woman. She looked at him and he said, "What floor do you want, pressed the button, and laughed quietly to himself as she said in a sweet condescending tone, "Interesting job you have here. You must meet a lot of people."
Well, I suppose that is the end of the story, but it seems that Prof. Z.K Matthews, led an extraordinarily active life, academically and politically, until his death in 1968 twenty years later, so apparently the medical treatment he received was good.
*The University of Fort Hare is a public university in Alice, Eastern Cape, South Africa. It was a key institution of higher education for Africans from 1916 to 1959 when it offered a Western-style academic education to students from across sub-Saharan Africa, creating an African elite.