In a clandestine and now-infamous address delivered by South Africa’s President Botha to his cabinet in 1985, he brazenly and categorically declared that white people were unquestionably superior to black people in every conceivable sphere of life. He went beyond mere insinuation, suggesting with chilling certainty that black people constituted a fundamentally different species from whites. “Hedgehogs are not porcupines and lizards are not crocodiles simply because they resemble one another,” he proclaimed, endeavouring to imply that although black people might bear superficial similarities to whites—walking on two legs, speaking, laughing, and crying—they were, in essence, an altogether separate entity.
He further compounded the affront by asserting, in the crudest and most demeaning terms, that black people were “good for nothing but making noise, dancing, taking multiple wives, and indulging in carnal pleasures,” adding insult to injury by stating, “Let us accept that the black man is the incarnation of poverty, mental inferiority, idleness, and emotional incompetence.” Such words, dripping with contempt and racism, reveal not only the grotesque worldview of Botha but also the depths of institutionalised bigotry that shaped apartheid-era South Africa.
When this abhorrent speech eventually leaked to the public years later, supporters and sympathisers of the former President scrambled desperately to distance him from these incendiary remarks. The collective realisation dawned that to publicly espouse such views was indefensible and scandalous in any decent society. Yet, whether these exact words were uttered or not, the sad reality persists: myriad white individuals worldwide continue to harbour a belief in their racial superiority over black people, be it socially, intellectually, politically, or economically.
I have, throughout my life, steadfastly maintained that any perceived disparities in capability between white and black populations predominantly arise not from innate biological differences but from cultural contexts and historical circumstances. Consider, for example, the realm of mathematics. Black communities have historically lacked a developed mathematical culture; as a result, it is unsurprising that luminaries akin to Pythagoras or Euler do not feature prominently in African intellectual history. Chichewa counting is a case in point—beyond the number five, one must resort to elaborate, mouthful expressions to articulate even modestly large numbers. Other African languages do not fare much better in this respect. The number sixteen, for instance, is expressed as “khumi ndi zisanu ndi chimodzi”. To convey “sixteen times seventeen” in Chichewa requires an entire paragraph. This cumbersome verbal construction belies the linguistic richness of the culture but undoubtedly hampers rapid numerical calculation and abstract mathematical thinking.
What breeds optimism in me is the inherent and splendid malleability of culture itself. Culture is not carved in granite; it is a living, breathing construct that can evolve, adapt, and grow. The fact that our ancestors were strangers to scientific and mathematical ideas does not doom black communities to perpetual inferiority. Rather, it is a matter of exposure, education, and opportunity. With the right environments and encouragement, cultural transformation can unlock hidden potentials and foster excellence.
A few years ago, I was deeply moved and pleasantly astonished by the story of Esther Okade, a ten-year-old Nigerian girl who embarked upon a Mathematics degree at a British university. In every ordinary respect, Esther was like any other child of her age—shy, playful, curious. Yet when it came to mathematics, she inhabited a rarified realm of pure genius. In one of her early examinations, she scored a perfect 100%, a feat that speaks volumes about her prodigious talents. I often wonder what Pieter Botha would have made of such a gifted young girl. I doubt anyone from his narrow-minded clique could match Esther’s intellectual finesse. And yet, we are talking of a black girl. Esther has since progressed to complete a PhD in Mathematics, smashing all preconceived notions and demonstrating unequivocally that brilliance knows no racial bounds.
In today’s world, the timeless maxim “Do not judge a book by its cover” rings truer than ever, particularly when comparing the achievements of different races in academia, sport, or the arts. Talent and ability cannot be restricted or defined by skin colour, despite persistent prejudice.
Certain white factions, determined to exclude black people from the grand narrative of civilisation, have deliberately sought to obscure or erase inconvenient truths from history. Writing in the February 2008 edition of National Geographic Magazine, Robert Draper lamented the collective amnesia surrounding a black dynasty of Pharaohs who ruled ancient Egypt for a span of seventy-five years. “Until recently,” Draper explains, “their story remained untold. Only in the past four decades have archaeologists unearthed their history—and come to appreciate that these black Pharaohs did not mysteriously appear. They arose from a robust African civilization.