Milnerton's Schools and Christian National Education

In February 1907, the Board of Milnerton Estates considered the time premature to establish a school, notwithstanding approaches made by residents who were parents of young children to Dr Thomas Muir, Superintendent-General of Education for Cape Colony.

The first school in Milnerton was opened by Miss Baker in 1910, with 25 pupils on the roll. The school was situated in a boathouse at the mouth of the lagoon. This was divided into two classrooms. There was no electricity in the building so candles and oil-lamps were used. The medium of instruction was English until Mrs du Preez joined the staff to teach in Afrikaans.

 

The lagoon mouth before development. The remains of the weir are on the left.

Then, in 1916, came official recognition of the “Public School”, with Miss Prowse appointed the new principal. W. Miller replaced her in 1917, before Mrs M. Skinner took over as principal in 1920. A former pupil of this school, Charlie Theron, remembers being taught by Mrs Jurgens. The Lagoon School, as it was called, continued for 37 years until January 1953, when the boathouse was condemned and the Cape School Board bought a plot of land in Zastron Road for the erection of a suitable school building. While construction was underway, the Board hired the Milnerton Town Hall as a makeshift school. 

Town Hall Class of 1949

The first section of Milnerton Primary School was opened in 1956.  This school catered for both English and Afrikaans pupils until 1972 when it became English medium.

Soon afterwards, the School Board realised that the growing suburb would need another primary school and a high school, so the former Western Province Rugby Football Ground on Acacia Drive (now Union Road) was acquired for the second primary school and a large plot of land on the corner of Pienaar and lower Zastron (now Broad) Roads was purchased for the high school. Zonnekus Primary School was completed in 1959 and Milnerton High School was formally opened by Mr DJ Liebenberg, Director of Education, on 24 October 1960. It had already been operating in a prefabricated building since January the previous year, when there were 28 pupils, a principal and one teacher.

Zonnekus Primary School

Milnerton High School

During the apartheid years, all three of these state schools were reserved for white children, but only a short distance away, on Koeberg Road, Rugby, there was a private school which was the only non-racial South African school during the early apartheid years. Kettley’s Country Day School was run by the remarkable Miss Daisy Kettley, who owned a smallholding and ran what was at first a pre-school and pre-primary school, but later became a primary school. It was, to boot, a private school that uniquely served the economically disadvantaged. It sadly died when a crooked lawyer wrote a crooked constitution for its Board of Governors, and a huge grant of money that Anglo-American wanted to pump into the place simply withered away.

Kettley's Country Day School, with Miss Daisy Kettley (centre)

In 1960, I started Sub B (Grade 2) at Zonnekus Primary School, in what was only its second year of existence. We wore a brown uniform with a distinctive gold “Z” as our badge. I obviously did not know it at the time, but it was regarded as the most conservative of the local schools. I made friends with a few of my classmates, including Ronald Greenway, Alan Winson, Jonathan Lipman and Justin McCarthy.

Zonnekus Std 2 Class of 1964. Ronald Greenway is in the back row, fourth from left. My first "crush", Claudette Boon, is seated second from right.

On 31 May 1960, South Africa celebrated 50 years of Union and our school participated in the festivities. They began on 22 May with an interdenominational church service in the Milnerton Town Hall, conducted by Dominee Heyns of the Dutch Reformed Church, followed two days later by a ceremony in the park on Acacia Drive, now rechristened Union Avenue, while the new name of Unitas Park, the result of a competition, was formally bestowed by the Mayor, Dr Gerry Futeran. On this occasion, a pupil from each of the local schools planted a memorial tree, and each pupil received a festival lapel badge. I still have mine. 

On 31 May 1961, South Africa became a Republic, and there were more festivities, including another thanksgiving service, held in the Dutch Reformed Church this time, as well as another ceremony in the park. On this occasion, more trees were planted and each pupil received a flag and a bronze medal. Two months earlier, on 14 March, we pupils had all gathered at the lagoon mouth to watch the “invasion” of the Cape by the United States Marines, who were part of a visiting task force. For half an hour, the troops turned the beach into a cacophony of roaring engines, massive explosions and the staccato rattle of machine guns and automatic rifles. About 30,000 people witnessed the impressive spectacle, including South Africa’s military, naval and air chiefs.

Mock battle at the lagoon mouth, 14 March 1961

My sister Jude had joined me at Zonnekus that year. She did so well in Sub A, thanks to my having taught her everything I had learnt, that she was promoted to Std 1 the following year. I was in Std 2. Our father was understandably concerned about the political indoctrination at the school, however, so within a few weeks of the start of the 1962 school year, he decided to withdraw us from Zonnekus and enroll us at church schools. The principal, Mr Thys du Toit, was most put out by Dad’s decision, arguing that others in the community might regard this as a vote of no confidence, but Dad had made up his mind. I was enrolled at Bishops and my sister at Holy Cross Convent. My Dad must later have softened his stance because my younger brother Andy attended Kindergarten at Zonnekus before also moving to Bishops.

In 1965, Milnerton was declared a white suburb under the Group Areas Act. The Mayor, Mr Kotze, was furious, but for the wrong reason. “Where must Milnerton, which is the fastest-growing municipality and which has no Coloured location [sic] nearby, now obtain its labour,” he wrote in a letter to the press, “especially in the light of the government’s policy of no Bantus in the Western Cape?”

Of course, one ‘Bantu’ who was working in the Western Cape at that time was Nelson Mandela, causing permanent damage to his eyes while doing hard labour in the lime quarry on Robben Island. The residents of Milnerton could see the island out in the bay, but Mandela was conveniently out of sight and out of mind.

Most whites, afraid of the ‘Swart Gevaar’, re-elected the National Party to Parliament with increasing majorities throughout the Sixties and Seventies. Despite their niggling anxiety, whites had never had it so good. It was the halcyon era of “braaivleis, rugby, sunny skies and Chevrolet”. Their black compatriots, by contrast, had never had it so bad.

Fortunately, my parents and teachers taught me true Christian values, including respect for my fellow man, irrespective of race or ethnicity.

In 1968, Seamount Primary School was established to serve the growing educational needs of the Milnerton North area. Situated in Ixia Road, it is a co-educational state school with English as the medium of instruction.

 

Seamount Primary

During the 1970s, a trade school was built at the corner of Noble Road on the Tijgerhof side of Koeberg Road, but it did not survive for long. It is now the De Grendel Special Needs School, which is more accurately described as a School of Skills, catering for 600 learners from Grades 7 to 9. All academic subjects are offered, as well as a selection of technical subjects. It was also during the late 1970s that the Department of Posts and Telecommunications established a Technical Training Institution for the training of telecommunication technicians.

De Grendel School of Skills

All four state primary and high schools in Milnerton opted for Model C status when this became an option in 1992. This converted these schools from being wholly state-funded to becoming state-aided. This meant that teachers’ salaries were still paid by the state, but the day-to-day running costs of each school had to be funded from fees paid by the parents. Each school’s Govering Body could also determine its admission policy. While this allowed these formerly all-white schools to start admitting black pupils, it also meant that they could use both high fees and other entrance requirements to prevent “undesirable” children from gaining admission. For example, in 1994, Milnerton High School refused to accept children from the Marconi Beam informal settlement, and Seamount Primary School, having accepted two children from this settlement, had them transferred to Zonnekus because “their English was too weak”.

Zonnekus Primary School was the notable exception. The threat to this school’s survival caused by steadily declining enrolments since the early 1980s, as well as the welcoming attitude of the school principal to children of low-income families of all races, played an important part in this school’s radical transformation. The demand for Afrikaans tuition slowly diminished until, in 1996, the medium of instruction became only English and the school dropped its formerly Afrikaans name and became known as Woodbridge Primary School. I am proud to call myself a former pupil of this remarkably transformed school.

Woodbridge Primary

In fairness to the other schools in Milnerton, they have also transformed over the years, now accepting children from diverse backgrounds.

I've often wondered what would have become of me if I’d stayed at Zonnekus and gone on to Milnerton High School. Many of my friends did and seem to have come through unscathed. But one boy didn't.

When I was enrolled in Sub B (Grade 2) at Zonnekus Primary School, I was three years behind a boy named Wouter Basson, who had been in the school’s foundation class. Those readers who don’t recognise his name are more likely to know him by the name given to him by the Sunday Times: ‘Doctor Death’.

During the 1980s, he was tasked with establishing and leading the SADF’s secret chemical and biological weapons research programme, code-named Project Coast, in violation of the international Biological Weapons Convention.

Much of what this project accomplished is likely to remain unknown, but former colleagues of Brigadier-General Basson gave damning testimony at the 1998 TRC hearing and at his criminal trial, which began a year later. He faced 67 charges, including 14 counts of murder, 16 of conspiracy to murder, 2 of attempted murder and 1 of incitement to murder. In addition, he was charged with drug possession and drug trafficking, as well as fraud, embezzlement and theft amounting to R36 million.

At the end of a trial lasting 30 months and costing in the region of R10 million, Judge Willie Hartzenberg acquitted Basson on all the charges against him, stating in his judgment that he accepted Basson’s testimony over that of the 153 witnesses for the state.

Judge Hartzenberg, who is the brother of former Conservative Party leader, Dr Ferdi Hartzenberg, betrayed his own right-wing bias when, as part of his judgment, he described Project Coast as a phenomenal success and its achievements as a national asset that should be preserved for future generations. He refused to grant the state leave to appeal. In the public gallery, a row of former defence force generals stood and applauded.

This was not the end of Dr Basson’s legal woes, however. In 2007, he was charged with unprofessional conduct by the Health Professionals Council of South Africa.

In December 2013, he was found guilty of unethical conduct and lost his licence to practise as a doctor. Basson immediately appealed the decision, claiming that two members of the panel had shown bias against him. That legal process is still unresolved. In the meantime, he continues to practise as a cardiologist in Durbanville.

Basson grew up in Tijgerhof, just 200m from where I lived in Hawston Road. By his own admission, he had a happy childhood. What was it, then, that turned this mild-mannered boy into a monster?

Basson giggles at this suggestion. “I am not a monster. Anyone who knows me will tell you that. Yes, there is this perception out there, but it is all lies… There is no proof. A competent judge gave his verdict. Why can’t people accept that?”

People can’t accept that because they suspect that there was a miscarriage of justice. Both at the TRC hearings and at his trial, witnesses implicated Basson not only in supplying drugs and nerve agents to kill anti-apartheid political prisoners, but in personally administering them. It’s difficult to dismiss all of them as liars and perjurers.

The fact that Basson is in denial and shows no remorse for his actions may indicate that he’s a psychopath, but I think there’s another explanation.

Wouter Basson was exposed to the same apartheid-era propaganda that I outlined earlier in this blog and which prompted my dad to withdraw me from Zonnekus. In addition, Basson’s father was a policeman, who no doubt reinforced this propaganda at home.

When Basson moved on to Milnerton High School, the brainwashing continued. I know this to be true because I witnessed it first-hand when I did my 6-weeks' student teaching there. On Founders’ Day, the entire school stood to attention while the principal led them in prayer, in singing Die Stem, and in saluting the national flag. The principal stood beneath a canopy supported by four pillars, which symbolised the four pillars of unquestioned authority: the principal, the dominee, the Prime Minister, and God.

After the ceremony, the pupils streamed out on to the playing fields, where the boys marched around in their cadet uniforms, accompanied by a brass band. In his matric year, Basson was an officer in this cadet corps.

(Photo courtesy of Michael Mangiagalli)

The Milnerton High School magazine of 1967, Basson’s last year there, includes a full-page advertisement of a boy sitting at his desk. His eyes are closed, his book open before him. In a dream balloon above his head, the boy is in police uniform, his right hand raised in salute, and his radiant face is looking upwards.

Dr Wouter Basson, aka Doctor Death

Basson, it seems, also dreamed of serving his country, and that is what he believes he did. He says, “I still maintain that I never did anything that was unethical. It was not unethical under the then government.” He is even on record as stating that he would do it again under the same circumstances.

And there you have it! He believed (and clearly still believes) that what President P.W. Botha called the ‘Total Onslaught’ against South Africa in the 1980s called for an extraordinary response, no matter what the cost. The end justified the means.

As we had so often sung at school:

                                                  Ons sal antwoord op jou roepstem,

                                                  Ons sal offer wat jy vra:

                                                  Ons sal lewe, ons sal sterwe

                                                  Ons vir jou, Suid-Afrika.

It doesn’t take much to add: Ons sal moord pleeg as jy vra.

I picture young Wouter running about the Zonnekus playground with the rest of us innocents and am shocked by a dreadful realisation – there, perhaps - but for the grace of God - go I.

[With thanks to the late Eric Rosenthal for the early history of the schools and to Kashiefa Ajam and Michelle Mans for much of the information about Dr Basson.]