Future of History education in South Africa: A call for a balanced curriculum

Historically, large-scale educational reforms reveal a mixed story.  Rather than being neutral, pedagogical interventions can be shaped by ideological or political considerations and risk proceeding without the student in mind.  

The newly proposed History Curriculum and Assessment Policy Statement (CAPS) does not entirely present this pattern; certainly, there are praiseworthy additions. But with the density of the document, and its fairly repetitious theme, it is not always clear that the Department of Basic Education’s (DBE) revisions fully realise the transcendent potential of History as a subject.

The goal of the proposed History curriculum, expected in 2027, is "to develop in learners a global historical consciousness from the vantage point of Africa."

A vision like this begins with lifting from history the various African archives and sources to celebrate their idiomatic wisdom and knowledge. With the goal of highlighting oral history, there is much to praise about the new curriculum. Given the rich oral tradition that exists in African societies - the Khoi, San, and Bantu-speaking peoples come to mind - oral history allows students to approach something ‘living’, putting them into contact with community leaders, elders and even family members with profound stories to tell. Methods like these put students into’ history rather than leaving them as bystanders to distant events that happened to them’.

There is no shortage of oral-based documents: Indaba, My Children, and the Sundiata epic come to mind. With the ability to reveal sacred history, both teach truths through highly nuanced stories, using tragedy and allegory to convey the consequences of war and greed. And beyond their educational value, they play a significant role in revealing Africa’s complex and pre-colonial moral code. Something the DBE is keen to achieve. 

With the CAPS’s new African focus, documents like the praise poems or ‘izibongo’ of the Nguni people could also be used. Texts like these allow a reconstruction of the past and bring heart to historical events. The array of voices, from King Cetshwayo to the mourning of African mothers whose sons are on the battlefield, does well to breathe life into dates on a timeline. But beyond myth and folklore, there exist hundreds of indigenous knowledge systems (IKS). A common example is ‘The Meanings of Timbuktu’, which explores the use of metallurgy, astronomy and medicine in Africa, revising the stigma that it was only made up of tribal and traditional healers.

The South African Democratic Teachers’ Union (SADTU) has hailed the proposed CAPS as ‘nation-building’ and there is much truth to this. The celebration of African culture gives those groups who have historically been characterised as ‘the other’, the chance to redefine and even redeem themselves from a homogenous history. Learners who belong to these demographics deserve to see themselves as existing before and beyond the status of victim in this country, and a refurbishment of the curriculum can do this. As such, conversations move beyond who was right or wrong, black or white, and towards amicable discussion and communal healing.

Curriculum and context

But debates around curriculum change cannot be separated from the broader intellectual movements which have shaped post-apartheid student politics. This is certainly true for a subject like History. In this regard, the timing of the proposed History CAPS merits closer inspection. 

Between 2015-2018, South Africa saw both the #Feesmustfall and #Rhodesmustfall campaigns bring sharp focus to ideas surrounding the curriculum, its representation and its implicit indictment of colonial exploitation. Driven by thinkers like Franz Fanon, whose work is widely drawn upon in decolonial conversation, relatively small but highly organised groups of student activists took to university campuses demanding change. One notable plea was the decolonisation of the school curricula.

Notably, though, was the 2018 decision by DBE Minister Angie Motshekga to review the current History CAPS. Her desire was also to decolonise the syllabus, making it more Afrocentric and relevant to South African learners. 

Curriculum change is ongoing, and we cannot immediately label these campaigns as the cause. But the proximity of a new History CAPS to a charged political movement does make it harder to view the revision as purely pedagogical. Statements by the DBE that the new CAPS is not a ‘mere settling of scores’ also become harder to believe - perhaps less so is SADTU's suggestion that History become a compulsory subject. But it is the framing of History as a subject in South Africa that comes into question. 

Given this context, a concern is the proposed curriculum’s removal of critical blocks of history, potentially motivated by political considerations. It is vital that learners in South Africa be exposed to African culture. That has been discussed. But it is not only an appreciation of culture and demographic history that fosters unity. History is a deeply moral subject. It teaches not only what distinguishes us, but also what we have in common. This ability is perhaps reflected in the growing uptake of History as a subject in South African schools.

The DBEs' removal of Communism from the History syllabus is just one example (Other notable sections are Capitalism and the American civil rights movement). Few historical topics capture the consequences of ideology as much as twentieth-century political systems. Topics like these can teach transcendent truths about the nature of humanity, not only truths limited to monocultural ideas, whatever culture they come from. As such, it develops a deeper understanding of universal values such as justice, mercy, power, and evil: all of which historical events like the Russian Revolution bring into focus. And they are the values our adolescents need to explore.

Living in such a polemical atmosphere and the ‘culture wars’ that define our society, the study of collective human suffering brings a necessary hush to the classroom. It does so by shocking the senses, prompting learners not only to look at their own moral makeup but also to ask the profound question of why. Histories like these cut through difference, uniting learners via a shared sense of humanity rather than dividing them along demographic lines. It stresses that while cultural nuance is essential, our humanity is as much a catalyst for unity as our differences. 

Among the current list of Dramatic Arts setworks is the play, Eclipsed: Phifalo ya ngwedi. The play was created in response to the tragedy of Life Esidimeni, where 144 psychiatric patients died after being moved to unlicensed NGOs. In the opening monologue, tucked into a list of indictments, an actor speaks, ‘…whether the system has a black, white, yellow or blue face, the fact remains that people lost their lives…’

Colour has profound implications in this country, and within a history syllabus, all of these must be explored. These include the vibrancy of culture, as well as the desperate struggle of cultures that have historically been marginalised. But history is also about the grey hues of tragedy. Within these realities, all of history has indelible lessons to teach. As a social science, history has the potential to serve as the moral compass of a school – but it needs all its cardinal points to function.

South Africa’s students should not carry the burden of a politically charged curriculum.  Returning them to the centre of educational development will make this possible. As such, History, as a subject, has the potential to foster the spirit of ‘ubuntu’ that both this country and its classrooms need.