Editor’s Note

[Reza]

My father, Yousuf Rassool, sent me text to the second edition in 2002 and I have to admit that I did not read it until this summer (2007). I decided that, in addition to the correction of typos, revision of factual errors and redactions made under threat of litigation - comprising the changes in the text, I would make annotations of my own. The first edition meandered like a trail through a thickly wooded forest. The narrative would twist and turn, digress, and tantalizingly give one a glimpse through the undergrowth of a lush valley or a haunted peak. I wanted to augment the tale with further research but in doing so I strove to elaborate on those topics about which we only had hints while maintaining the quirky non-linearity of the story. The first ‘glimpse’ that tantalized me was the brief mention that my great grandfather’s business partner was an African-American, called Mr. Wilson. I hoped to learn more about this character and so understand the broader context that would bring Gool and Wilson into partnership in the Cape Colony during Victorian times. Furthermore, I felt that the coverage of the association between the Gools and Gandhi deserved more than the ten pages of the first edition. The research effort became an exciting detective adventure across many continents. Many historical archives are now accessible on-line but much valuable detail can be overlooked if one does not painstakingly go back to the original source.
It was not that we hadn’t discussed the project for five years. Indeed this and other projects were the topics of conversation each time I would visit my family in Reading, England. I shared with them new scenes from my screenplay, based on the book, as they emerged. When I was at home in Los Angeles I would be in regular email and phone contact with them. But in the summer of 2005 the emails from Dad stopped along with his literary output. He would still engage me in vigorous conversation, when I would visit, but the news he’d relay would be the same each time. In November 2005 I took Dad to Cape Town. He and I had not been there together for over thirty-five years. During the visit we were encouraged to pursue reprints of both ‘District Six – Lest We Forget’ and his novel ‘The Valley Awakes.’ A group of friends and family had also initiated a project to bring his writing to the screen. We returned with renewed vigour.
I was fortunate enough to gain access the complete archive of Gandhi’s newspaper, Indian Opinion, from 1903 to 1914. Upon returning from another visit to England, I found a package waiting for me. The National Gandhi Museum kindly sent me the entire archive on DVD-ROM. The three-disc set arrived hand-stitched in a coarse, homespun, muslin bag. The pages of the newspaper were digitized as pictures rather than text – all twenty thousand. The images of each sepia page were so clear that I could almost smell the mustiness of the century old weekly. Even so it would be a challenge for an optical character recognition system to convert it to text – believe me, I tried. So in reading the entire archive I found gems that others may have missed or that would not have been catalogued for the purpose of a popular history. I’d like to think that it is by the accident of omission that history is subjugated rather than by deliberate commission.
The probe into the origin of Mr. Wilson actually uncovered signs of a pre-Garveyite, pan-Africanist group of forward thinkers who counted Gool among their cohort. A community of freed slaves from America and the West Indies thrived in District Six in Victorian times. Some of them would achieve great position and wealth. Their expulsion at the turn of the century foreshadowed the Apartheid era evictions of the same neighbourhood decades later.
Valuable photos became available after the first publication. In addition to these, I chose to include images of relevant newspaper articles and letters, rather than MLA references alone, to help put the reader in closer contact with the un-edited source. What started as a chore of filial duty became a passion that consumed many spare hours. My wife and four sons would often peer over my shoulder to understand what possessed me. In so doing they were able catch glimpses through the undergrowth into the past and to learn, along with me, something of who we are and from where we came. Reza Rassool (Dec 2007)