Freedom fighter Jean Farre Hill at peace

Compassion and a belief in justice for all formed the foundation of this activist’s long and courageous life, writes Liz Clarke

Sunday Tribune 16 Jul 2017

Twenty-seven years ago Nelson Mandela’s first speech to the nation after his release from prison included praise for the women of the Black Sash calling them the “conscience of white South Africa” during the apartheid-era. Last week, aged 97, one of those “foot soldiers of freedom and justice” passed away having given a large chunk of her life to the betterment of the country and the eradication of poverty.

At a special memorial service at the Congregational Church in Musgrave Road, last week, two days before what would have been her 98th birthday, family, friends and fellow freedom fighters remembered Jean Farre Hill “as the humble and courageous” servant of Africa, who always thought of others more than herself.

Born on December 22, 1919 to Dr Arthur James Ballantine and Ethylwynne Emily (formerly Dunn) in Wynberg Cape Town, Farre Hill gained her MA at the University of Cape Town and lectured in Latin and Greek at UCT. Among the freedom pacifists there to commemorate Farre Hill’s life was Ela Gandhi, granddaughter of Mahatma Gandhi, who lived in Durban most of her life.

Aged 77, Gandhi said: “Whatever you asked of her, she would do quietly and with compassion. She passionately believed in the struggle to free South Africa from repression, so much so that she would risk her future – even her life.”

Whether it was a silent protest outside the Union Buildings in Pretoria or outside the Post Office in Durban, a placard procession protesting against the policies of the day, she would always agree. While she played her part in political protest, she found it important to be part of the solution as well and joined movements such as the Race Relations to promote both relationships among the different race groups but also to work to help the suffering millions to sell their products and earn a livelihood.

She committed time and energy to help families of those arbitrarily arrested and detained under oppressive apartheid legislation. This she did under the aegis of the Defence and Aid fund. “Everyone was aware that this was a difficult job and would attract the wrath of the government,” explains Gandhi. “She was not daunted by this and helped hundreds of people before she was placed under banning orders. Many years later people like Phyllis Naidoo, Miriam Cele and others took on this responsibility.” It was this compassion and consciousness for what is just and the right that earned her the admiration and respect of many people.

But according to those who knew her well when the new government came into power she did not talk about the many courageous and compassionate acts that had become so much part of her life.

Instead she quietly went about her work and continued to help young people with their education. Many received help of one form or another from her. She helped people with tuition and funds, which she could ill afford to pay. It was in Meyrick Avenue, on the other side of the Berea, where she lived with her husband Ken, a maths lecturer at Howard College, that her strong-held beliefs were put to the test.

In October 1965, as a member of the Liberal Party, she received a five-year banning order restricting her to the Magisterial district of Durban. In terms of the Suppression of Communism Act no 44 of 1950 issued by John Vorster, the then minister of justice, she was forbidden to enter areas set aside for Indians, coloured or Africans or to attend social and political gatherings.

In her private memoirs she recalls that turbulent period of her life: “Two policemen called on Ken and me at supper time one evening and began reading out the banning order. I stopped them to ask what something meant but they were unable to answer any questions, so I said I would read it myself and they left.” One of the prohibitions was that she must not be on the premises of the International Defence and Aid Fund that assisted victims of apartheid.

“Since I had been running the D & A Fund from our home, this meant finding someone at once on whom to dump documents and the responsibility for carrying on where I had left off. Johann van den Berg, a fellow Liberal and a colleague of Ken’s in the Maths Department, very generously agreed without argument or complaint.” She quickly had to learn the meaning of “gathering”.

“An advocate gave me his opinion free and instanced some strange examples. He told me that an Indian gentleman was banned and when his daughter was about to be married, he invited two friends to discuss the wedding arrangements. The problem was that there was a common purpose so the magistrate found him guilty. He got off because only one of the three had gone off with a list of things to be done!” On another occasion, Jacqui Arenstein banned with her lawyer husband Rowley Arenstein, saw a friend sitting at a table in an arcade drinking a cup of coffee. One of them was looking after the other’s child. Farre Hill says: “Mrs Arenstein sat down and joined her friend in a cup of coffee and chatted about the child. She was found guilty of attending a social gathering, but got off on appeal because each of them had paid for their own cup of coffee!”

Her husband Ken had also been banned. “In fact his was a more severe form of banning,” wrote Farre Hill. “House arrest. He was allowed to go to work at the university but had to be back by a certain time each evening.” Kathy Lopes, a relative, who attended the memorial service, vividly recalls that time.

“As children we were told a little bit about how brave they were. One day my parents and other family members went to visit them at their Meyrick Avenue home. They went in one at a time. We played ball on the veranda and were told we weren’t allowed to go inside. Such strange times!” What is amazing, say family and friends, is that both Jean and Ken remained unmoved by their experiences and bounced back into their work once the order was lifted. Ken went back to his writing and Jean to the work of the Sash involving herself with the Diakonia Council of churches and working with Archbishop Denis Hurley in the 1970s and 1980s .

Friends and family at the service, also spoke about her “ordinary” interests and how she seldom referred to her activism days believing that she was “simply doing her duty.” Among those interests were a love of indigenous wild flowers, a legacy from land that she and her husband bought that overlooked the Valley of 1000 Hills and which was later donated to the province.

She was also a great admirer of Mahatma Gandhi and a frequent guest at the Phoenix Settlement, where Gandhi’s son, Manilal Gandhi and his wife Sushila would welcome the Hills .
Many interesting political discussions took place in these times and both Manilal Gandhi and the Hills shared a strong bond of friendship with Chief Albert Luthuli and activist Peter Brown. The common belief among them all was that education was key to the liberation of the masses in South Africa.