Leslie van Rooi
CAPE TOWN - Discussing the Sharpeville Massacre of 1960 with a group of 350 third-year Engineering students at Stellenbosch University (SU) in the year 2022 often leads to deep conversation. And, when these discussions form part of a course that deals with the socio-political history and the realities of South Africa over the last hundred years, you can be sure of a variety of opinions and perspectives and even some heated debates. And this is exactly what I experience as lecturer teaching this specifically designed module in SU’s Engineering Faculty.
Even a relatively quick overview of our divided history and complex past leads to a conversation of current realities that, to a certain degree, might even sound and feel similar to the struggles of the past. And this is what leads to the discussion that sometimes continues long after the formal class has ended when students stay behind to finish a point, ask a question and to further debate a topic. A discussion which in nature, purpose and outcomes mostly differs from often cruel and nonsensical debates in the dark corners of social media.
The Complementary Studies course at SU is designed to help engineering students to better understand our country’s realities, complexities, and possibilities. The course also aims to equip soon to be graduate engineers to, in their own way, positively impact society at large. After all, it is of limited worth to graduate with a degree without a sense, a reminder or an immersion in realities which, in the next phase of life, might be very different from what students have experienced up to now.
I find it interesting that students, when discussing the Sharpeville Massacre, will not always automatically link the recently celebrated Human Rights Day to this bloody day in our history – a day that shaped our human rights culture and (growing) understanding as a nation. Most students in this class were born well after the turn of the century and as such they belong to a generation different from those controversially named the ‘born frees’.
Their realities look different. The South Africa that they are a part of is very different from the one of their parents. They are the fortunate few who can enter a university – one of Africa’s top universities – and will soon graduate with a degree that will be acknowledged both locally and internationally. In general, they have a bright future ahead of them often far removed from the realities of South Africa’s impoverished communities where human rights might not be as basic.
But this does not mean that they do not have to constantly navigate through life both on and off campus. In fact, it might be that their experiences and challenges are more complex than those who have walked this road before them. And it certainly is not even remotely similar to those who could not walk this road because of a variety of reasons.
They constantly have to navigate through a variety of sometimes sharp-edged institutional and cultural experiences. And, within this, they have to consider their own future in relation to their peers, and the socio-political and economic realities (and possibilities) of South Africa. They experience a sector post the Fees Must Fall era and in the midst of a pandemic. They often find themselves having to choose sides in heated debates about race, privilege, wokeness, gender identities, and so on. And very often they have to discover their own identities within local and global debates within which ‘your side’ is often predetermined and where you are silenced/where you silence in order to hear or to be heard.
And it is often in these debates where the idea of human rights is confirmed, challenged, and sometimes even denounced. In these discussions they (we?) often have to make a quick call on their (our?) rights and whether these rights are respected, as well as the rights of others, also in relation to theirs.
In its worse form, unhealthy debates in person or on social media silence and shame thus limiting the potential for discussion, change and finding each other.
I cannot but wonder whether the generation at our universities will continue to believe in the idea of universal human rights. And if so, what (human) rights they will regard as universal. It will be even more interesting to see whether they will relate their individual rights to those of the collective.
Hopefully this year’s Human Rights Day allowed them, like us, the opportunity to reflect not only on our history as a nation but also on the notion of human rights – my rights in relations to the rights of others. A sound reflection in this regard might just get us out of the muddy waters of deep-rooted suspicion and shaming.
A sound reflection might also lead us to understand that, in order to hone a human rights culture, we have to openly talk about our country’s history and our place in its realities. Like the students in the class, we will have to discover ourselves in an open and engaging conversation with each other.
Dr Leslie van Rooi is Senior Director: Social Impact and Transformation at Stellenbosch University.
Cape Times