While studying at the University of Cape Town (UCT) in 1958, the Extension of University Education Act was passed by the South African apartheid regime. It became "a criminal offence for a non-white student to register to a hitherto open university without the written consent of the Minister of Internal Affairs".
At that time about 5% of SA university students were non-white, 552 at UCT. The Bill evoked vigorous public opposition, including street marches through major cities; support was received from 296 leading international universities.
The UCT vice-chancellor, TB Davie, described four criteria of university academic freedom: who might be taught, what could be taught, how it should be taught, who was to be admitted to study. In 1959, a Flame of Academic Freedom was ceremonially extinguished in a prominent position on the university campus. A plaque describing the event was unveiled, but accompanied by another adjacent plaque leaving a blank date for when the flame would be reignited; this occurred in 1994.
Many have repeated "if you have done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear". But when "nothing wrong" excludes treating all fellow human beings with dignity and respect, is it a crime to follow your conscience?
Democracies, and universities, encourage questions seeking the truth. Autocracies and totalitarian regimes discourage questions; exposing the truth may clash with uncompromising policies. US university students are facing similar challenges while advocating for matters of international justice.
During my 20 years as an under- and post-graduate student and then on UCT staff, we protested apartheid policies. Most protest actions included demonstrations and having personal friendships and socialising with non-white students. Many of us were involved with charitable activities (mainly health and education) in underprivileged Coloured areas.
Throughout the country, students and staff of all races were targeted. Some of our associates on campus were bullied, expelled, had activities and phone calls traced, banned, assaulted, whipped, deported, imprisoned without trial (some for 90 and some for 180 days, often in solitary confinement) and a few murdered.
The "crimes" they had committed usually related to peacefully protesting apartheid policies in word or deed. As now in the US, anyone questioning official policy was construed as being an enemy of the state.
Many American students are being persecuted and prosecuted for speaking out about international abuses in human rights. As in SA, authorities judge students according to their own interpretation, rightly or wrongly, of what they think is being protested.
Current US policies make this particularly difficult for non-Americans who face potential deportation without trial. University administrations are being penalised heavily for defending their students and academic freedom.
In 1965, a fellow SA researcher was denied permission by government authorities to present a paper accepted for presentation at a European nutrition meeting. The reason was the research exposed the dreadful nutritional status of Cape Coloured children. The situation was notified to congress organisers, requesting they leave the abstract on the programme but tell the audience why he was banned from presenting in person.
That was the end of my friend’s academic career. Should we not all continue to protest politically induced child starvation?
As a Swiss citizen, I would be vulnerable if targeted during any protest. Advice was sought from the Swiss Consulate; he agreed I needed to follow my conscience, but advised against taking any leading role.
The next day a protest letter appeared in the Cape Times, signed by all the medical registrars at Groote Schuur Hospital; my heart sank when the signatories appeared in alphabetic order, with mine at the top. We all had our mugshots taken when we went to farewell our mentor at the airport.
Later that year, I presented a research paper at a scientific meeting in recently "liberated" Czechoslovakia. The irony was that the Russian communist system had been overtly suppressing the Czech public in similar ways to the apartheid regime in SA under the guise of being "anti-communist".
Following these events, my wife (a health visitor in a poor Coloured area) and I became aware of dramatically increased official attention: our movements tracked, phone tapped, house searched and we were aware of police surveillance. Together with a large cohort of young academics, we left the country (in our case to New Zealand) in 1978.
Young US academics are having their consciences silenced by those who believe they have a monopoly on the truth. Just as we had to abide by the dictates of cruel apartheid laws, US staff and students are free to express their views provided they agree with Make America Great Again policies.
This is disastrous for universities and for the intellectual development and future prosperity of any nation. The career-enhancing post-doc experience I enjoyed in the US would not be possible under their current policies.
True academic freedom must be restored before current policies induce a brain-drain and ruin outstanding American international institutions.
■Gil Barbezat is an emeritus professor of medicine, University of Otago.
