Interview: Helen Zille
'In the quality schools
teachers arrive on time and don't leave early. They mark books, prepare
lessons and involve parents. There is no magic formula.'
How did you first get interested in
politics?
I grew up in a politicised household. My mother and father were German
and they each had a Jewish parent. My father left Hitler’s Germany for
South Africa in 1934. My mother and her parents left in 1939. Both my
parents were early members and supporters of the Progressive
Party.
My first memory of politics impacting on my consciousness was when the
National Party government ended the school feeding scheme for black
children during the 1950s. I can still see my mother’s anger. She
joined the Black Sash early on and was very active in its advice
office, which meant that she was more in touch with the realities of
black people’s lives under apartheid than the average white person.
Over supper in the evening she would recount the things she had heard
about during the day. It was an unusual background and I often felt a
cultural clash between my school and home environments.
When I went to Wits I had expected to join the National Union of South
African Students, but the first meeting I went to completely turned me
off. The atmosphere was dogmatic and dominated by Marxist rhetoric. I
could see that it wasn’t done to hold any other view, so I joined RAG,
the student charity fund-raising organisation, and the academic freedom
committee instead. Later, during the 1980s, I became politically active
again through the Black Sash and the End Conscription Campaign.
Throughout this time, Marxist discourse was becoming hegemonic in the
progressive movement, but I could never go along with it. I found it
difficult to articulate exactly why, so in 1982 I took a year off and
went to UCT to study Southern African economic history and clarify my
thoughts.
What did you discover during that
year?
That the Marxist emperor had no clothes. The Marxist analysis, applied
to South Africa, was trying to force our history into a paradigm
developed in a completely different context. It was interesting to note
that every time events in our history offered people a choice between
race or class solidarity, race seemed to win. Marxists were ingenious
at explaining this away, but it was all rather tortuous. Marxists have
to squeeze facts into their framework, to prove the historical
inevitability of the working class revolution and the demise of
capitalism. Today this kind of analysis is entirely obsolete, but at
the time it was taken as self-evident by many activists. This kind of
ideology does not respect alternative views or allow an open society.
Liberals make space for people with opposing views. I believe in the
falsification principle — one must always look for reasons why one may
be wrong rather than why one is right.
So you are a follower of Karl
Popper?
Absolutely.
You worked as a reporter on the Rand
Daily Mail for eight years in the paper’s heyday. What stories stand
out from that time?
I joined the paper in 1974 as a cadet reporter. Allister Sparks was
editor — I respected him a great deal. The biggest story that I worked
on was exposing the cause of Steve Biko’s death, which according to
official statements, was supposed to have been the result of a hunger
strike. I was young and naïve when Allister sent me to investigate the
story. I interviewed the security police who of course wouldn’t tell me
anything. I also spoke to the three doctors in Port Elizabeth who had
examined Biko’s body and claimed to have found nothing abnormal. There
was crucial medical evidence, though, that indicated beyond reasonable
doubt that Steve Biko had died from brain damage. When we published the
story it caused an outcry and the government took the paper to the
press council. Our case was defended by Sydney Kentridge, but because I
couldn’t reveal my sources, Judge Galgut found against us. Of course,
when the full story came out, what I had written was seen to be
mild.
I did more investigative work in the 1990s when I was working for the
Cape Town Peace Committee trying to expose the third force in the
Western Cape. This was the only time in my history of political
involvement when I have felt in danger. There was no doubt in my view
that agents within the police were using any fault lines in the black
community to try to turn people against the ANC and foment violence. I
went to the Goldstone Commission with a dossier but my evidence was
found to be inconclusive.
How did your involvement in education
begin?
It began with my two children, who were born in 1984 and 1989. I
wanted my sons to go to public schools so that they would experience a
mix of cultures and backgrounds. I am very keen to keep the middle
class in public education as a first choice. My boys went to Grove
Primary and I spent a lot of time getting involved in the school. I was
asked to help formulate a strategic development plan and was co-opted
on to the governing body. Then I became chair of the governing
body.
In 1996 Grove Primary became the
focus of a successful legal challenge in the Cape Town High Court over
the right of school governors to recommend teachers for appointment.
What happened exactly?
The context was the education department’s policy to rightsize the
number of teachers and set national norms for pupil-teacher ratios. The
goal was to put right the huge differentials in the distribution of
teachers — one of the main legacies of the old racially divided system.
This meant that well-staffed schools would lose teachers and
under-staffed schools would gain teachers. I supported this objective,
as well as the original strategy to achieve it, which would have
enabled well-staffed schools to determine which posts to lose on the
basis of educational criteria. The agreement also provided for the
creation of new posts at under-staffed schools. This process would have
been efficient and educationally effective — and would have resulted in
the redistribution of resources to poorer schools. But the trade unions
did not like this arrangement at all because it did not guarantee job
security, and so the unions put the government under enormous pressure
to change it. The pressure was particularly strong in the Western Cape
because teachers are a huge constituency here and local elections were
coming up that the ANC was desperate to win.
The unions put forward a different formula based on voluntary
severance packages (VSPs) and redeployment. Then President Mandela
announced that while he was president not a single teacher would be
retrenched. As a result , the government had to reverse the original
arrangement that had taken 18 months to negotiate. A lucrative
voluntary severance package was produced to entice teachers to leave
the profession, while those who did not leave were guaranteed posts
through the introduction of a redeployment list which gave the
government the power to dictate to governing bodies whom to appoint in
each vacancy.
Grove was completely in favour of redistribution, but not by the
VSP/redeployment measures which made educational criteria subservient
to industrial relations criteria. It was entirely predictable that the
best and most experienced teachers who qualified for the largest
packages would be enticed to leave the profession and that some of the
weakest or least experienced would then be redeployed to the vacancies
created. When I heard Brian O’Connell, the head of education in the
Western Cape, first explaining the new policy on television I knew it
was illegal. I went straight to my computer and wrote him a letter
telling him that if the government implemented the new policy, I would
oppose it in the courts.
How did the government and unions
respond when Grove won its case?
One consequence of opposing ANC policy is that you get called a
racist. I’m used to that now and I simply ignore it. But it makes some
people nervous of expressing opposition to the ANC. There were many
delicious ironies in the situation around the court case, though.
Several members of the South African Democratic Teachers’ Union (Sadtu)
send their children to Grove. After we won our court case, Sadtu
resolved to hold a protest march to the school during school hours.
Various Sadtu members then contacted me privately to ask whether it
would be safe to send their children to school because Sadtu would be
holding a protest march! The Sadtu parents seemed the most nervous.
Most other parents sent their children to school on the day of the
march and we decided to declare it “democracy day” with discussions on
the right to peaceful protest and free speech. Sadtu gave us a
practical demonstration in the street outside.
Among the toyi-toying protestors I saw various principals and teachers
whose own children were sitting inside Grove being taught by teachers
who would never disrupt their pupils’ education by going on strike.
What has really intrigued me, throughout this case, is this disjuncture
between public and private morality, which I sometimes think is a
hallmark of the ANC.
This all happened when Sibusiso Bengu
was minister. Kader Asmal seems to be taking a harder line with Sadtu.
In his speech in Durban in September he told them their brand of
unionism was not worth defending.
Well, he’s had tough words for them. Let’s see if he can translate
tough words into some serious action. He sounds good, but the jury is
still out.
The day after this speech you
threatened to close down Bonga Primary School in Guguletu if it did not
stick to a rescue plan. The minister attacked you saying such action
would be illegal and unconstitutional. What has happened at that
school?
The action would be entirely legal and constitutional. Ironically, it
seems as if the minister has now adopted my approach, if recent media
reports are anything to go by.
The dispute at Bonga shows once again how industrial relations
interests overshadow educational considerations in our schools. In
terms of South Africa’s labour laws, applicants who are not appointed
to posts can declare a dispute if they are not satisfied with the
outcome. We have had about a thousand disputes in the past 18 months,
approximately 60 per cent of which have been entirely frivolous. The
amount of time and money these disputes absorb is enormously wasteful.
Sometimes such a dispute can bring an entire school to a standstill.
This is what happened at Bonga Primary. The outcome of mediation and
arbitration was ignored and the dispute intensified over two years,
until there wasn’t a single adult in that school who hadn’t taken
sides, making it completely dysfunctional. I made several unannounced
visits to the school and witnessed fights between teachers and members
of the governing body who shouted appalling abuse at each other, while
children were left unattended in classrooms. The acting principal we
appointed was driven out by physical force.
It is important for me to say in this context that the teachers’
unions have acted appropriately in upholding the rule of law in the
Bonga case. When the teacher who failed to get the promotion refused to
abide by the outcome of arbitration, the teachers’ unions supported my
tough action, and I think they acted with integrity. Every day in
education shows me how crippling the effect of our labour legislation
is. When Professor Asmal does something about this, I’ll say he is
really putting his money where his mouth is.
Do you often turn up at schools
unannounced?
I make more visits to schools by invitation than I do unannounced. I
normally only go unannounced when I have received a serious complaint
from a parent or staff member that seems to have substance. In such
cases I don’t want to arrive on a public relations visit.
I believe one of your visits was
quite dramatic.
Recently my secretary made an arrangement for me to go and see a
school in Guguletu at eight o’clock in the morning. I am very worried
about the Guguletu schools because they used to be reasonably good and
have been deteriorating. I am determined to find out why. I arrived at
eight (when classes were scheduled to start) and watched for at least
ten minutes as students strolled in. Eventually I walked into the
staffroom and sat down. No one took any notice of me, which gave me the
opportunity to observe things unfolding. The principal was talking to
the staff on a range of subjects, including the encroachment of various
extraneous activities into teaching time. As I had an appointment with
him I assumed he knew who I was and was just finishing his speech to
the staff. When he had finished, I got up and introduced myself. The
shocked silence made it clear that only then had it dawned on them who
I was.
I told the staff all the reasons why I disagreed with what the
principal had just said about other activities displacing teaching and
learning. He was bristling with anger and told me that I should have
made an official appointment to talk to him privately, and should have
sent the circuit manager if I wanted direct observation of events at
the school. I told him that I had indeed made an appointment to see
him. I also said that, as I am directly accountable to the public for
the functioning of schools, I don’t have to go through the bureaucracy
to observe what is happening in the schools for which I am responsible.
The whole staff was initially hostile to me. I then asked to be taken
round the school where I saw indescribably filthy conditions, with
litter of all kinds lying all over the place. But it was not all
negative — I was encouraged by some good teaching in science, English
and home economics.
After my tour I was in the playground when a teacher dashed out and
said gangsters had just entered the school and pointed a gun at him.
They were spotted walking round the perimeter and I raced across the
fields after them. I did this instinctively because I get so angry
about the disruption of our schools by vandals. I managed to get a look
at them and phoned the police from my cellphone with a description.
Then I jumped into my car with two of the teachers and my wide-eyed
driver roared off round the streets of Guguletu to try to cut them off.
Unfortunately they managed to give us the slip. When the police turned
up, what struck me was that several of the children knew exactly who
the gangsters were, but they were too scared to identify them, so the
only description the police got was from me.
I must tell you that the attitude of the staff, which had been one of
anger initially, changed quite fundamentally after this incident. I
think what changed the dynamic was that I had experienced some of their
daily reality, and the conditions under which they work. And that was a
point I was quite happy to take — that I had not taken these conditions
sufficiently into account. Later that day the headmaster phoned me to
say the police had caught one of the suspects. Now we are working with
the circuit manager to improve things there.
Not long ago I went to a school in Manenberg where there were bullet
holes in the walls. When I asked the Grade 1 pupils what they most
wanted at school they replied that they wanted to feel safe. We have
drawn up an action plan to help those schools most at risk from
vandalism and violence.
You have mentioned your desire to
bring back a culture of dedicated teaching and learning time. This was
one of the six priorities you set out in your opening speech to the
provincial legislature on September 15. Can you elaborate?
Education takes the most extraordinary amount of discipline, effort
and hard work. Reward is always related to this. Time management,
beginning with arriving on time for lessons, is essential, but it is a
very hard thing to learn. I am determined that this should change. We
have the role model of the dedicated African teacher — people such as
Z.K. Matthews and T.K. Kambule. This is why some teachers’ unions are
vulnerable when the minister tells them that their behaviour is
destroying this legacy. But you cannot generalise. I think the basis of
racism is generalisation — if you say this group of teachers is like
that, it’s a caricature. When I speak to Sadtu teachers they insist
that they are absolutely committed to quality education. In my recent
discussions, I have seen there is a great deal in common that we can
build on.
But the unions were angry when you
publicly criticised teachers who took the day off to sing in the Sadtu
choir for a Women’s Day ceremony in August instead of teaching their
classes.
Yes. I was at the function and so was Kader Asmal. I said to him, “You
want to know why some of the schools are performing so badly? Well,
there are your teachers, singing in the middle of a school morning.”
The press wanted a comment from me and I gave it to them. And when I
was investigating how it was that so many teachers from so many
different schools had managed to be off for the day I discovered a
convention that if they check into school by 10.30 in the morning and
then check out for the rest of the day they won’t be penalised. It’s an
urban legend but teachers have got used to it. It’s a matter of
changing the culture and parents are my best allies in this — they know
that education is the only passport to a better life. You don’t have to
look for a magic formula. In the quality schools teachers arrive on
time and don’t leave early, they mark books, prepare their lessons and
involve parents in the school. And those schools are over-enrolled.
There’s a huge market for quality out there. The biggest irony is that
most Sadtu teachers do not send their children to schools where the
staff is predominantly Sadtu.
Tell me about some of the other
priorities you have set.
The challenge of transformation is to improve quality. Time management
is essential but we also have to measure our performance against
benchmarks. For instance we need to know how many days are spent
teaching and how well learners are doing. I have secured the assistance
of partners, including the Joint Education Trust and UCT to devise
tests for us to measure literacy and numeracy of a random stratified
sample of children at the end of Grade 3. It’s a huge
undertaking.
Then I want to spread best practice — the best curriculum, best
teaching methods, best information resources — from the most successful
schools. We have chosen a few areas of the curriculum to concentrate
on: first language teaching, maths, science and information and
communications technology, and life skills.
In your speech you also said that all
over the world devolved school management has been shown to work best.
How can you develop it here?
We are starting a five-year plan to build the capacity of school
governors. We have to show that the job of a governor is not just about
power or patronage or being able to assert control, it’s about service
to the community and due process. People from entrenched democracies
take the concept of due process for granted, but we can’t do that. I
hope our schools will become the bedrock for the development and
understanding of just law and due process.