When it comes to reporting on Wilgenhof, News24 editor Adriaan Basson is like a dog with a grudge against a bone. This morning, on 31 October, he penned yet another opinion piece promoting the crushing of the residence and its traditions. His target, this time, was Edwin Cameron, the chancellor of Stellenbosch University and former Constitutional Court justice, for obstructing this objective by levelling explosive allegations against both the panel appointed to investigate the residence and the university administration.
Cameron believes the panel’s independence may have been compromised through institutional interference, with the knowledge of vice-chancellor Wim de Villiers and council chairperson Nicky Newton-King. In an affidavit, he revealed under oath that the panel’s “final report” was altered between submission and publication. Whereas the initial version left open a “process of dialogue” as an alternative recommendation to the closure of the residence – an alternative that “appealed” to the panel – the version handed to council presented only the blunt option of permanent closure.
In his article, headlined Wilgenhof and the Battle for the Soul of Stellenbosch, Basson positions the conflict as one being waged by “some of South Africa’s richest men” against a beleaguered university valiantly fighting for “change” and “transformation.” He conspiratorially emphasises funding and political influence and argues that the debate “has brought together a large section of the conservative Afrikaans establishment,” as though many progressives and liberals have not been equally appalled by what is being done. One such person, of course, is Cameron himself, who Basson condescendingly claims is acting as a “front for the old guard.”
It seems inexplicable to Basson, and those briefing him, that Cameron would side with Wilgenhof, against the self-righteous cabal seeking its destruction. And so, he (and they) stoop to questioning Cameron’s motives. This is because Basson faces an inconvenient problem: the former justice is publicly known for his progressive politics. His reputation being impervious to “Nazi” or “Ku Klux Klan” smears, Basson thus resorts to another tactic – digging into the personal vulnerabilities Cameron experienced as a young man regarding his sexuality and childhood. He writes:
“Cameron grew up as an orphan and through extraordinary circumstances managed to end up at the university where he was accepted and thrived at Wilgenhof. His homosexuality was accepted by fellow students, and he found a home at Wilgenhof he never had. That is the explanation, I'm told, for why Cameron is, almost irrationally, loyal to the residence.”
This intended broadside backfires spectacularly, serving as a testament to the liberal and welcoming nature of a residence which has produced a quite extraordinary number of Afrikaner political dissidents and leading business entrepreneurs. But he presses on regardless, accusing Cameron and Wilgenhoffers of “irrationality” for choosing to stand up for themselves against months of moral terrorism and the befoulment of their reputations by the university, the panel, and the press. He writes:
“This irrational loyalty to a building, to experiences and bonds and suffering together in the name of a house, is driving the Wilgenhof Bond's High Court case to stop Wilgenhof from closing and have the panel report chucked out.”
While this might be news to Basson, loyalty is no sin. Indeed, loyalty to one’s fellow man based on voluntary communal bonds has long been considered a virtue – it's called friendship and affection. The same is true for caring about inanimate old things, like institutions and buildings. Love for them is expressed by ensuring they are maintained and defending them against opportunistic attacks, so that they may be preserved for future generations.
Indeed, if there’s any irrationality in this saga, it’s the tearing down of bonds and people and traditions – on manufactured grounds – in the name of some future idyll purged of all human imperfections. Basson would do well to remember that this is an age-old experiment that has failed every time it has been tried.
Instead, Cameron has chosen to take a brave and principled stance. Many South African lawyers who have read the two affidavits regard the deeply concerning allegations as having merit and so deserve to be tested in a court of law. Even based on the panel members’ own accounts, it appears that the process, their independence, and that of the university administration might well have been compromised.
Basson, on the other hand, blindly accepts the panel’s claim that the alterations were “at most an innocent mistake” and takes issue with those who wish to see these matters properly ventilated. He mentions the “forensic evidence” provided by the panel chair, advocate Nick de Jager. While this term carries much weight and authority, Basson makes no effort to describe its nature to his readers, nor does he address the problem of one panel member’s curious lapse in memory. The affidavit stating that she “cannot now recall who the persons were” within the university who had whispered in her ear – and thereby set off an elaborate chain of events whereby the concluding paragraph was voided and a parallel email trail constructed to deflect the expected accusations of impropriety over the alteration.
Instead, for standing up against months of tyranny, and possibly grave impropriety, Basson argues that “Cameron and his supporters” are failing to show their “commitment to something better” and claims it is “unclear what their endgame looks like.” He takes aim at Cameron’s “enormous grief” over the final report being changed and argues that those who should be remembered in this “tragic episode” are the “voices of Wilgenhof’s victims,” echoing the same slanderous claim of sexual abuse by the Nagligte – despite the panel finding no evidence of physical or sexual abuse, nor even specific misconduct. He again extolled the virtues of “multi-gender” residences, despite ones like Metanoia having had actual cases of sexual assault in the past few years.
Remarkably, earlier this week, Basson sent his readers a missive from London, in which he opined about Truth, Trust, and Trump in a Time of AI, complaining about members of the public taking issue with the evident problems within our media landscape – not least of which includes News24’s recent burial of Wilgenhof under a pile of smears from which it will likely never extricate itself. “It has become commonplace for South African consumers on social platforms to glibly call articles or publications they don't agree with ‘fake news’,” he wrote. “This poses an immediate and immense challenge for those of us who pride ourselves on factual, fair reporting as journalists.”
And yet, Basson is like a man with a giant tuba who knows only one note. Platforms under his editorship have a long history of inflaming racial tensions and ruining reputations – from fake controversies over kerriewors rolls to conjuring up imaginary Nazis at tertiary institutions – all to advance a so-called “transformative” agenda. One might describe such behaviour as both oppressive and an abuse of power.
When these “scandals” play out in the media, it is easy to forget the human lives behind the headlines and the real consequences they suffer. After the university announced its decision to erase 120 years of history by permanently shuttering Wilgenhof, the young residents, who had faced months of surveillance, scrutiny and abuse, gathered in their central quad. They were led in plaintive song, preparing to face the uncertain and troubled road ahead.
Despite Basson's claims to be speaking on behalf of the “victims” News24 and the University administration have been wearing the boots, and these are the human faces they have been forever stamping upon this year.
