EXEMPLARS AT HOWARD: THREE MEN AND TWO WOMEN By Asithandile Gxumisa

One glorious day two Crabs left their home to take a stroll on the warm sand. "Child," remarked the mother carpingly, "you are walking very ungracefully. You should accustom yourself to walking straight forward without twisting from side to side. "Pray mother," retorted the young one, "do but set the example yourself, and I will follow you." Example is the best precept: in these aphoristic words did Aesop, to whom this old fable is attributed, express the lesson to be learned from it. As it was with the little Crab, so it is with Men: we live by example. Precepts, however excellent, will not avail much so long as they are not embodied in actual Men. Nowadays splendid precepts abound like peacock butterflies in Spring, but Men to exemplify them are scarcer than rainfall on the Chilean desert of Atacama. It is for this reason that I deem myself to have been so fortunate to have stumbled upon men and women of admirable example at the University of KwaZulu-Natal, Howard College campus. Doubly fortunate might I add now that I have witnessed, firsthand, the spiritual and intellectual degradation that have overwhelmed institutions of learning. I wish that their number were more than five; but I can only make mention of those whose example exerted the greatest influence upon me on that grand campus. I will treat of them below in no particular order.

Among the three men, from the School of Politics, is Mr Zakhele Ndlovu. In fact, Mr Ndlovu is more than just a lecturer at Howard. He is also best known for his unorthodox and independent style of political analysis; a rare thing on the South African political scene, so long compromised by shallow ideological-partisan loyalties. In 2015, a year before I took up my undergraduate studies at the UKZN, he was attacked by a bevy of partisan hacks on social media, among them his own erstwhile students, for making comments that were critical of the role of the African National Congress Youth League in KwaZulu-Natal. He bemoaned this fanatical political intolerance, rightly characterizing the country's politics as "dominated by unsophisticated and myopic creatures". Verily, a diagnosis of the health of the Republic as dreadful as it is truthful. Mr Ndlovu was my lecturer for Political Sciences in my first year of study. My initial impression of him was one of surprise, for I discovered in him an unusual gift: a photographic memory. He could recite to the class the contents of Andrew Heywood's Politics virtually verbatim; and this not without much critical commentary of his own. Nothing, however, was more sad than his occasional laments, sometimes confessed in confidence to me, about the awful standard of work by university students.

His long experience as lecturer at the UKZN confirmed to him that not all who qualify for study at university are sufficiently prepared for it - let alone personally motivated to receive formal instruction at such institutions. "How can a third year student doing a social sciences degree be unable to write a proper academic essay?," he would ask me, sotto voce, as if the walls of his office had ears that only he could see. It is true, naturally, albeit not popular, that university study is not meant for every man and woman; that many students' lives are, at best, put on hold and, at worst, destroyed by the unreasoning call to thrust the majority of matriculants into the Academy when, in truth, they could have been encouraged and helped to pursue other alternatives like vocational training. Once, when he was marking some student's paper, Mr Ndlovu noticed that the poor student (a 3rd year!) had confused "first aid" for "international aid". I can only hope, for all our good sakes, that at nursing school they are not so susceptible to such confusions. Amid all these professional disappointments, Mr Ndlovu remains popular among his students (and colleagues) because of his patience with their shortcomings, his affability and his dedication to sound and non-partisan political analysis. Therein lies the strength of the character of the man: the triumph of his best self in the most unfavourable set of circumstances. That cannot be said of many Men.

The second men, certainly the most fascinating of the three, is Dr Maropeng Mpya, from the School of Law. If my first impression of Mr Ndlovu was good, my first impression of Dr Mpya, I must shamelessly confess, was the furthest thing from good. This is because, before I knew somewhat of the man himself, I was exposed to his politics. He was so revolutionary I imagined that he would have made a better Bolshevik than Vladimir Lenin had he been his contemporary and compatriot when revolutionary fever gripped Russia at the turn of the 20th century. It was for this reason that I believed, too soon, that an unbridgeable gulf was fixed between me and him. He was my Human Rights lecturer in my second year of study, a module that I was not very favourably disposed to. He has since lectured me in Constitutional Law, International Law and Jurisprudence, which modules I was very much favourably disposed to. Dr Mpya would set upon what he called 'Eurocentric conceptions' in law and society with the fiery breath of a Nguni bull. In this country, much work still needs to be undertaken to ensure that democratic institutions and systems - from the Constitution to the bottom - reflect genuinely African values and a thoroughly African outlook on life.

Until such time as Africans in this country are awakened to the reality that they live within a cultural context that, because defined by 'Eurocentric assumptions and conceptions', denies them their true humanity; until they come to grips with the psychologically debilitating horrors that were visited upon their history by the colonial adventure of Europeans; and until such time as Africans consciously rise up to rediscover the deep roots that gave vigour to the ancient culture of their forebears before the advent of the White man, then any talk of freedom for the African is no more than cant calculated to perpetuate their oppression under a new guise: neocolonialism. We have a history, we Africans, and a future beyond our dependence upon our erstwhile colonial overlords. There is an existential need for us to reclaim, from the wreckage of humiliating distortions and half-truths that Europeans have worked upon our history and future, their true historical and symbolic significance. This, of course, is only a personalized paraphrase of Dr Mpya's denunciations of the injustices of neo-colonialism which, I must admit, are more penetrating than this amateurish synopsis of mine. Always he was thin on the details of how this monumental task could be fulfilled, but perhaps that had more to do with lecture-time limitations than anything else. Anyhow, my discomfort with some of his political stances notwithstanding, I certainly thought too soon when I imagined that an unbridgeable gulf was fixed between me and him.

For I soon discovered in my more personal encounters with him (during consultations and little chats outside class) that the spirit of Ubuntu, that infinite wellspring of African virtue, runs true in him. The man greets his students and, I noticed, many others too who are not his students. In Megalopolis, a theatre of cosmic-sized egos,  you are more likely to stumble upon a three-eyed tarantula than chance upon people such as he. Furthermore, he remembers faces, and is conspicuously generous with his time and possessions as, one day, he went out of his way to drive a friend of mine to her residence not far from campus. An avowed and proud villager, it is a testament to the tenacity of the virtue of Ubuntu that Dr Mpya has not been swallowed by the cold and lonely individualism of the City of Durban. His politics may be too radical and, indeed, much to my dislike. But, unlike so many of the demagogic blabbermouths on television, I can vouch for him that his concern for the plight of the poor is as genuine as white liberal's solicitude for the misfortunes of Africans is phony. They say first impressions matter. That may well be true, but I say last impressions matter more. In fine, if my first impression of him was the furthest thing from good, well, my last impression of him was the nearest thing to excellent - and that matters more. Now, that cannot be said of many Men we have known - howsoever briefly.

Now we come to one Yolanda Hordyk, an industrious and motherly administrator from the School of Philosophy, Classics and Religion. She is, by far, the saintliest soul I have ever known personally  -  either at Howard or anywhere at all. An irony of ironies, Mrs Hordyk! For, despite my employment of that religious phrase "saintliest soul" in respect of her character, she is an avowed atheist. This lady, who, on account of her long exposure to much philosophical speculation on religion in her School, has  little regard in her life for Neanderthalean creeds about "some Father Christmas in the Sky". Religion, she  would explain to me, enjoys no monopoly on virtue. While she would struggle looking for evidence for this assertion, I reckon that she did not know that I took her own life to be such evidence - irrefragable and sufficient. However, when she would cite the general turpitude of religious folk as evidence of the futility of religion I thought she was missing a very fundamental point - at least insofar as my own Faith, Chrsitianity, was concerned. Christianity is not meant primarily to be a bulwark against general moral wickedness, neither is it a religion whose end is to make morally upright people out of its adherents. Virtue, in the Christian tradition, is a gift of God and, by extension, serves only as a mark that a man has had an encounter with the Divine. It is not the end of the grand work of salvation. That end is far higher, far nobler than merely making moralistic prudes out of Chrsitians: it is the remaking of Man in the image of Christ, an image lost in the Fall of Adam and Eve in Eden, for glory in the life everlasting.

Thus, in the ultimate sense, general turpitude among 'Christians', though regrettable and contemptible, cannot reasonably be used to discredit that most excellent and venerable Faith. Even so, true to her nobility of soul, Mrs Hordyk, despite what might be mistaken in her view of religion to be scorn, is still very much appreciative of the symbolic and psychological meaning of religion for the Faithful. For this reason, she has on many occasions distanced herself from the evangelistic fulminations of atheists like Dawkins or Hitchens against religion. Incidentally, I think I speak for many when I say that in her students have a mother, counsellor and an example worthy of emulation. Industria, that old Roman virtue, still runs true in her; so much so that I imagine that, without her, an apocalyptic crisis would shake the very foundations of the School of Philosophy, Classics and Religion. This is to say, without auxesis, that her dedication to her work is laudable, inimitable and deserves the recognition of good men and women. Often she will go out of her way to do even the work of others - as sometimes you will see her picking up plastic sweet wrappings on campus, now calling to the attention of the university management some broken pipe or structure. All this done with a smile. God smiles too, you know. And I think in her kind smile I - and many others whose paths have crossed with hers - have had a glimpse of it. I believe that no one deserves to see the smile of God more than Mrs Hordyk, but, alas, that felicity of the Blessed is not gifted on the merit of human goodness. Yet, while she still lives, I will not give up the hope that she too will one day join us Christian Neanderthals upon Mount Zion. Until then I will strive to live by the extraordinary example she has set before the many recipients of her loving-kindness.

Dr Candace Moore, our fourth examplar, hails from the School of Social Sciences, and was my one-time lecturer for Global Politics in my first year of study. It was the one module to which I exerted myself with the discipline of a perfectionist and, by so doing, won myself an outcome that was the closest thing to perfection in all my academic experience. Gladly, in the gruelling venture, I also won myself the goodwill of one of the cleverest intellects at Howard, Dr Moore. Now, my unique exertions in Global Politics were not by chance. For Dr Moore, being exceedingly knowledgeable of the affairs of nations on the international scene, made it clear in her lectures that, as the English phrase goes, she meant business and expected no less than the highest standard from her students.  She did not mince her words when she felt that we had failed to live up to her standard. University students need this sort of heavy-handedness - from now and again - so that the seriousness of the demands of their studies might not be lost on them. On account of this consistent encouragement by her for us to reach for greater heights in our studies, I swiftly adjusted myself to her reasonable demands and laboured as she had counseled. I imagine that there were many more students who were spurred on to apply themselves diligently to their academics; who, in fact, might not have done so well without Dr Moore's insistent calls for us to work hard in her lectures. Unlike her, many lectuers were often not so clear about the nature of their expectations from us - and this was a disservice to the students for they would come up with their own standards and expectations. Needless to say, these tended to be very low.

Dr Moore would not tolerate shoddy work from her students, and this was her right just as she had made it clear that it was our obligation to aspire to no less than a standard of excellence. Her research interests are in South African foreign policy, Brazilian foreign policy and International Relations theory. Two critical journals of hers which I read a while back that focused upon South Africa's foreign policy under our erstwhile president Thabo Mbeki in relation to Africa were one of the most penetrating and well-written pieces on the theme of the Republic's foreign policy. All evidence of a sharp and critical mind. I still have not figured out whether it is her intellect that surpasses her beauty, or vice versa. For I must confess that I have yet to behold a fairer face than hers in this life. Admittedly, also, the very splendour of her countenance was inspiration enough for me to always get up and go to her classes. One of my female friends, whose work was humorously described by Dr Moore as "more of a list than an essay", has not forgiven me for my glowing admiration of a woman who so 'savagely' judged her essay. Well, my friend could not say that she was not warned. Anyhow, though a thoughtful and demanding lecturer, Dr Moore is a kindly lady, and very generous with her time. To have had her as a lecturer was an honour, and UKZN has a jewel in her. To her I owe much as a student, and that I cannot say of many of my lecturers.

Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth from the mouth of God. When I came to the UKZN, for a long while, to my utmost shame, even as an avowed Christian, I utterly forgot all about the fountainhead of true sustenance: Holy Writ. The work to remind me of my greatest need fell upon the shoulders of our last examplar, Dr John MacArthur, who, though not a Howardian, still I first encountered at Howard. He is an American pastor of Grace Community Church in California, and a Reformed Calvinist. Now, I was a Christian when I came to Howard, from what you might call a Pentecostal background. In my first year I was still young in the Faith and I naively went about school for a long time as if I could survive without that edification which is only derived from meaningful membership in the community of the Faithful. To this untenable condition was added my dearth of knowledge regarding true Christian doctrine. If there is anything I hate more than meliorism, it is dearth of knowledge, about anything. So as to remedy this most unfortunate situation, I set off on an adventure to find the answers that I so desperately needed. In my wanderings in the wasteland of ignorance I chanced upon Dr MacArthur's sermons and books. I can only describe the encounter as like witnessing a flash of lightning on a sombre Summer's night. For I became wholly aware of the depth  and breadth of my ignorance of things that pertain to God when I read an illuminating book by him titled The Gospel According To Jesus: What Is Authentic Faith?.

Dr John MacArthur will not brook the easy-believism of the 21st century gospel, best embodied by women and men like Joyce Meyer and Joel Osteen. Nor does he have any patience with the shallow and empty gospel of so-called miracle-workers, best exemplified by men like T.B. Joshua. "The difference between the gospel of Christ and 'another gospel' is the difference between the blessed and the cursed, the sheep and the goats, the saved and the lost...the truth and a lie" so wrote Dr MacArthur in the spirit of his Puritan predecessors. And so I was urged on to seek the gospel of Christ - unblemished and untrammelled by human innovations and vanities. I have since read two more books by the man, Slave: The Hidden Truth About Your Identity In Christ and Strange Fire: The Danger Of offending The Holy Spirit With Counterfeit Worship, and countless more sermons. I was effectively cut off from my Pentecostal roots, of which I had always had nagging personal misgivings, albeit vague. A strong thread of Calvinism runs conspicuously throughout all his sermons and books, so it was only natural that I should come to take a very Calvinistic view of  Christianity. However, it would seem, this was only for short while as I have since grown too suspicious of Calvin's theological speculations on 'free will' and God's sovereignty. And, in my humble opinion, Dr MacArthur has yet to satisfactorily defend Calvin on this point. Instead, I have come to identify increasingly with Augustine on the question of 'free will' and God's sovereignty. Calvinists, Catholics, Lutherans, Presbyterians, Wesleyans, Anglicans...oh the narcissism of small differences!

Perhaps, it is time we all said together with John Bunyan, "I would be, as I hope I am, a Christian. But for those factious titles of Anabaptist, Independent, Presbyterian, and the like, I conclude that they come neither from Jerusalem nor from Antioch, but from Hell or Babylon." I am a Christian, and whatever differences might exist between me and Dr MacArthur, I know that without his labours across the Atlantic I would have been a poorer Christian. California is Gomorrah. Yet she is not without light while men like Dr John MacArthur still linger there, and neither am I in the Darkness of Howard. That my first love and loyalty is to God, always and forevermore, is a Truth I might easily have forgotten, unto my eternal detriment, were it not for the Gospel of Jesus through the ministry of Dr MacArthur. I hope to follow his example, to remind others of that great and splendid Truth.