Interestingly, Abantu-Batho also published material by rivals such as the Bantu Union, including a report by its secretary, A. K. Soga (a SANNC founder), that openly canvassed support for the new body.46 At first, there may have been thoughts of an alliance and Pelem, Cape Bantu Union president, would open the ninth SANNC conference at Queenstown on 24 May 1920.47 In this context, editors gave some space to dissonant voices. In July 1918 a correspondent styling himself ‘Fingo’ criticised the ‘neglectfulness’ of Congress – even as he called on readers to join the body.48 In 1919 W. J. Mama attacked ‘Mr. Makgatho’s Congress’ of ‘Squatters’ and ‘town cranks and youngsters with no experience but swollen heads’, calling instead for provincial autonomy. He criticised Makgatho for seeing the Bantu Union as a branch of Congress, for claiming that Rubusana represented the Cape on the SANNC and for arguing that ex-German colonies should come under the mandate of the United States, not South Africa.49
Abantu-Batho soon spelt out its attitude to the Bantu Union. The presence of Cape Congress delegates at the SANNC meeting in Queenstown would overcome a ‘secessionist movement in disguise under the name of Bantu Union … which exists merely by name’. Behind the Bantu Union stood ‘self-appointed’ leaders for whom ‘the white man has got the lever because of their bigotry and selfishness’. Because the Bantu Union had failed to seek unity with the Cape Congress and affiliate to the SANNC, the editor charged it was opposed to ‘Union of the people and Unity in action’. Congress, by contrast, sought ‘cooperation and unity of action with everyone and therefore the door is always open for anybody to come along and grasp hands’. The metaphor of ‘grasping hands’ was indeed the symbol on the Abantu-Batho letterhead (see Introduction, Figure 10).50 Abantu-Batho followed up this criticism by publishing a series by Congress stalwart Henry Ngcayiya relating how Seme came ‘with great inspirations from the Universities of Columbia and Oxford’ to form Congress, how Pelem and Soga, appointed to an SANNC central committee to raise funds for the 1914 delegation to Britain, then ‘sounded a discordant note’ and withdrew. Ngcayiya alleged they had ‘diverted many of the funds raised’ to the Bantu Union.51 Such comments paralleled earlier criticisms directed at J. T. Jabavu. There had been cordial relations with Imvo, but in May 1918 Abantu-Batho published ‘The Bantu Awakening’ on regional rivalries, trenchantly criticising the misunderstanding, ‘inactivity and indifference’ of Cape leaders; Imvo had stigmatised Africans north of the Orange River for their opposition to the Land Act but Abantu-Batho pointed out the struggle gave ‘rise to a wave of nationalism unknown before in the history of our race’ from which would ‘emerge a new nation’. The Act had ‘organised the once disorganised’ northern provinces and gradually we ‘are bringing in within the gates of the National Congress the Bantu tribes of the South’.52 An editorial the following week underlined that white oppression was ‘a crucible in which we are being made into a nation’.53
Criticisms of provincial leaders by the editors continued over the years. In 1930 they lampooned Cape Congress president Rev. Elijah Mdolomba, who had attacked ‘foolish leaders and agitators’; and yet, argued Abantu-Batho, ‘Jesus Christ Himself was an agitator’ and agitators were the product of racialist legislation. The ‘duty of the church’ was to publicise the gross violation of Christian principles in South Africa. Citing Rev. W. A. Cotton’s The Race Problem in South Africa on the limitations of the white churches, the leader article urged African clergy to emulate such criticism.54 In regularly airing issues, editors added their own comments. In 1920, when inviting people to attend the SANNC conference, the editor did not know the precise agenda (communications could be slow and Congress apparatus unwieldy). Yet he speculated it would include the Land Act, pass laws, finance, the delegation to Britain, ‘how to solve the starvation question – wages amongst labourers’ and confirmation of its constitution. He lambasted provinces other than the Transvaal for failing to generate funds. ‘A bad spirit prevailed, to the effect that each Province should have its own delegates.’ His remarks provide insight into ANC problems. He called for all branches to send ‘delegates, with sound resolutions’. Cape members should ‘roll up satisfactorily’ as Congress had gone to the trouble of shifting the venue from Potchefstroom to the Cape and against the protests of the OFS. ‘What of Natal? It is difficult to speak of it, because there’s some misunderstanding between the members – at present … its branches are idle.’55
‘L. M. P.’ of Volksrust attacked those who did not attend meetings, but complained of their results, engendering misunderstanding and friction:
The Transvaal Congress consists of organisers, who will go about preaching about it amongst the people. It is plain that in other places the Chairman and Secretary do nothing but strive to retain their positions. … If you want to have your own unnecessary disputes, [with] Congress, you had better not interfere with the organisers, whose duty it is to build [Congress] into one. … You evil speakers and doers of contradictory things to Congress, get out of the way.56
By 1921 there were signs of moderation. Ilanga thought so, citing criticism in Abantu-Batho of ANC leaders as ‘unfit’, suggesting it may be ‘turning a new leaf’. The relevant article had argued, ‘[a]t this critical moment, the work of the Congress has become so large and important that its present leaders are not equal to the measure of the task’. Indicative of the above-mentioned feud between editors and Makgatho, it asked ‘how they ever became to be recognised within the inner councils of people’s affairs’:
Congress affairs demand men possessing moral force – men who will appeal to the people by their respectability and good behaviour, not men who shelter their body habits, unsuitability, and sinfulness behind the clamour of popular upheavals. People are tired of ministers without congregations posing as leaders; are sick of men without any work or occupation who want public offices …. It is no use to elect men on their chairs without doing any work.
Ilanga’s editor mused that if this were a ‘genuine’ shift in tone then it would signal ‘a great upheaval in that Native Newspaper as the majority of the foremost leaders in the Transvaal are members of the staff of Abantu-Batho’. Yet, aware of editorial complexity in the multilingual paper, he added that a new dawn in accord with the people’s wishes was predicated on the views of the ‘responsible English editor’ being ‘in harmony with his Associate Editors’.57 The bruising encounter with Umteteli in 1920, the violent defeat of the miners’ strike and the rise of rivals such as the Joint Councils may have sobered the English editor, whose identity is uncertain (it may have been Thema, who, if now contributing to Umteteli, had written for Abantu-Batho the previous February).
Abantu-Batho editors continued to publish voices critical of some ANC leaders. They used a report on the first meeting of the All-African Convention in 1924 openly to criticise the ANC. The gathering ‘serves to demonstrate one big lesson .… The National Congress lacks leaders.’ The article praised the Convention’s manifesto for urging black voters not to support particular white parties, but candidates who supported black rights. In contrast, the editor was ‘disappointed’ in an ANC resolution in favour of voting for the Pact Party: ‘The Congress of late has behaved like one devoid of natural senses’, referring to a ‘babyish outburst’ of a 1923 resolution in favour of a republic ‘dictated by passions of despair or vengeance born out by consciousness of weak leadership’ and mentioned Thema by name: ‘that great protagonist of the Republican ideal.’58
In Abantu-Batho’s last two years, perhaps influenced by Skota’s moderate editorship from 1927, its pages opened to a wider group of writers from rather different political perspectives. The paper reported across wider social strata. While ceasing operations before his rise to political prominence, it began to note the growing social presence of a young physician later to lead the ANC, Alfred Bitini Xuma.59 Some correspondents remain obscure. In 1930 G. M. Pakade of the Bantu Help Association in Christiana wrote to inform readers of his association, as well as touching on Congress and the ICU, while Simon Ratlou announced the Northern Native Association. In the same year the W. W. Rand Advisory Board in Benoni advertised its meetings.60
Less obscure was the maverick