speech he reminded the students of the importance of symbols like the ox-wagon and the flaming torch to keep them aware of their origins and destiny. ‘The ox-wagon was [for the Voortrekkers] the church, the childbed and the cradle of a new generation. And that is why this small wagon stands here as a symbol and a guard in order that we should never forget how small our beginnings were and how humble and grateful we should remain,’ he said.
Yet even in the emotionally charged atmosphere of the late 1930s Rupert’s patriotic fervour did not overrule his sense of justice. This is evident in his attitude towards an incident involving an English-speaking lecturer, John Agar-Hamilton. It was the upshot of the protracted language struggle that persisted even after Afrikaans was declared the official medium at the university in 1932. That move had been triggered by the tarring and feathering of a French lecturer at the UP, HP Lamont, who was suspected of pseudonymously writing a book entitled War, Wine and Women that contained denigratory comments about Afrikaners. At his assailants’ trial Lamont admitted to writing the controversial book and was dismissed by the university.5
Despite the 1932 decision on the language medium, the UP senate decided that English-speaking lecturers merely had to improve their proficiency in Afrikaans to a level where they could understand the language but not necessarily be able to lecture in it. So John Agar-Hamilton, senior lecturer in history, continued to deliver his lectures in English amid mounting student objections that culminated in a boycott of his classes in April 1939. At the instigation of the chairman of the SRC, Albert Geyser, a protest meeting was held on campus, at which the Vierkleur, flag of the old Transvaal Republic, was hoisted.
Rupert was deeply perturbed by Geyser’s action. Officially Agar-Hamilton was still permitted to lecture in English until the end of the year. At a mass meeting of students he proposed that Agar-Hamilton should receive an apology: as a guest on their campus he ought to be treated hospitably. He also suggested that English-speaking students abstain from voting, since it was the Afrikaners’ honour that was at issue. Although Rupert’s proposal was accepted by an overwhelming majority, Geyser refused to apologise to Agar-Hamilton. At the outbreak of the Second World War the lecturer joined the air force and left the campus for good.
This episode illustrates Rupert’s early awareness of the need for coexistence, but also reveals a conviction that would become a philosophy of life: that Afrikaners should conduct themselves civilly and courteously towards people from other cultures. Geyser was not prepared to accept that. A Hervormde Kerk theology student, he did not have full student support during his chairmanship of the SRC. One of the council members, Ria Hugo (the later history lecturer Dr Maria Hugo), accused him of undermining Rupert, then chairman of the ANS, and proposed a motion of no confidence, which was passed. Geyser and his henchmen then proceeded to assault Rupert supporters, and one night they lay in wait for Rupert himself. He drove a battered red MG convertible, bought second-hand when he became a lecturer. They forced him out of it and led him to a nearby hall. Colijn van Bergen, who was with him in the car, managed to escape and ran to the library where Huberte was on duty. He shouted to her to summon the police, who arrived soon afterwards and came to Rupert’s rescue. He was already being stripped by his assailants, who intended to tar and feather him.
Rupert refused to lay charges against the Geyser group, either with the police or the university authorities. He dismissed their conduct as plain jealousy. One by one his assailants came to him to apologise. Geyser was the very last to do so. That was in 1977, when he represented the University of the Witwatersrand at Anton’s inauguration as chancellor of the University of Port Elizabeth.
After the Ox-wagon Trek Rupert and his good friend Colijn van Bergen, then in charge of the ANS Film Bureau, went on tour with a film show that included a film made of the Trek, together with films on the sculptor Anton van Wouw and the Afrikaans literary figures Jan FE Celliers, DF Malherbe and Totius. The only music they had was a recording of the national anthem, ‘Die Stem van Suid-Afrika’ (The Call of South Africa). In Rupert’s second car, a DKW convertible, they set out for Graaff-Reinet from Pretoria around six in the evening, loaded with equipment. On a dirt road near Trompsburg in the Free State the car overturned. Since they were travelling at low speed, neither suffered more than slight injuries, but the record with the national anthem broke in half. Undeterred, they went ahead with the tour and drew big audiences wherever they went, even though at half a crown per ticket admission was not cheap. The film, which had considerable historical value, disappeared during the war years.
Van Bergen often stayed with the Ruperts at Graaff-Reinet. He remembers Anton’s mother as a ‘wonderful woman’ who was very hospitable and made people feel at home. And the first of the local attractions that the young Rupert pointed out to his friends was the statue of Gideon Scheepers.
Towards the end of his student career Rupert was given a lecturership in the Department of Chemistry at the UP. At the end of 1939 he obtained an MSc in applied chemistry. In 1939 and 1940 he also completed courses in law and commerce at the University of South Africa, and embarked on a doctorate in spectroscopy at the UP.
In 1939, while war clouds were gathering in Europe, Rupert chaired the on-campus committee of the ANS, of which Huberte was a member. He was also a member of the executive committee of the ANS and on the editorial board of the movement’s official publication, Wapenskou, which published its freedom manifesto that reflected the strong feelings prevalent among Afrikaans students in the tension-filled late 1930s. In this document the ANS demanded that the Union of South Africa, a member of the British Commonwealth under the British crown, should be converted into a republic with an authoritative government. White population growth should be encouraged, including a considered immigration policy with assimilability as a requirement. ‘Indigenous non-whites’ should be under state tutelage. ‘By means of a differentiation policy parallel development according to their own traditional cultural beliefs and equality through apartheid should be made possible for them.’ Natural and production resources should be used equitably for the benefit of the entire community, in which regard the state should not hesitate to infringe on vested interests. As for language, it was proposed that Afrikaans should be the official language, with English enjoying full rights as a second language.
Several of the ideas in the manifesto were not to survive the overheated atmosphere of the war years; the proposed ideas also included some with which Rupert would differ increasingly explicitly in key respects in years to come.
In 1939 the ANS took a militant stand in favour of neutrality with regard to the war, but its protest meetings were to no avail. In parliament Gen. Hertzog’s neutrality motion was defeated by 80 votes to 67 and when Governor-General Patrick Duncan turned down his request for a general election, he resigned as head of government. Gen. Jan Smuts became prime minister and on 6 September 1939 South Africa entered the Second World War. The war was to last till 1945, and once again divided the country.6
Shortly after the outbreak of war Rupert was invited for sundowners at the house of physics professor JS van der Lingen, who had worked under Albert Einstein in Europe. To Rupert’s amazement he declared categorically that Germany would lose the war. He argued that for all its technological expertise, Germany did not understand mass production. When the USA entered the war Germany would be flattened by bombardment from the air. Besides, said Van Lingen, the Germans always wanted to improve a product instead of mass-producing the armaments required in a war situation. This far-sighted view was confirmed many years later by Dr Joachim Zahn, chairman of Daimler-Benz in the 1970s, who was astounded by the South African’s insight when Rupert told him about Van Lingen’s prediction. Zahn himself had worked on an intercontinental ballistic missile during the war, a sophisticated version of the V1 and V2 rockets that rained death and destruction on British cities during the blitz. The war was over and lost before the new missile was ready.
Shortly after the conversation with Van Lingen two incidents occurred that were to change Rupert’s political views profoundly. Both occurred in the company of his student friend Dirk Hertzog, who would become a co-founder of the Rembrandt group. Hertzog was a nephew of General JBM Hertzog, who was living
