John van Zyl

Orange Free State & Exeter 1958

Born in Kroonstaad in the Free State, South Africa (then known as the Orange Free State), John van Zyl studied at the University of the Orange Free State before going on to Oxford to read for a second undergraduate degree in English. As a professor at the University of the Witwatersrand, van Zyl headed the media studies department for 20 years and founded the university’s School of Dramatic Art at the University of Witwatersrand. Alongside his academic research and leadership, he has worked as an activist, serving as programme director of the Director Cinema Community Filmmaking Project and executive director of ABC Ulwazi, an educational radio production and training house that was named Africa’s best education NGO in 2000. He was also one of the founders of Classic FM in South Africa. Van Zyl’s published works include Media Wise: An Introduction to Visual Literacy and he has won a number of awards for his journalism, including, in 1984, the Thomas Pringle Award. This narrative is excerpted from an interview with the Rhodes Trust on 7 October 2025.  

‘Radio was instilled in me at an early age’ 

I grew up on a farm quite a way out of Bloemfontein. I had to do a lot of maintenance on the farm, so I’m quite good with my hands and have learned to figure out things. I think that sort of rootedness paid off later when I was setting up an NGO and figuring out how community radio can work.  

I went to school at Grey College, the oldest school north of the Orange River. Its quality was that it fostered mutual respect between English-speaking and Afrikaans-speaking white boys. In the mad way of the apartheid world, that was regarded as being very, very progressive. Classes were offered in English one day and Afrikaans the next, so it turned you into a completely bilingual person, which I am to this day. It’s about 60 years since I left Grey’s, and it’s now a completely non-racial school admitting both white boys and black boys. At school, I took English and Latin, and I was the best English student. I took part in debates and I took part in radio programmes, so radio was instilled in me at an early age.  

The Nationalist party were the people who pushed through extreme apartheid, and although my family was anti-Nationalist, they belonged to the United Party, which was also a white party. It favoured a slightly kinder apartheid, but whichever way you looked at it, it was still apartheid. I think, as a child, I drifted along knowing that I opposed the government but with very little awareness of the real horrors of apartheid.  

On applying for the Rhodes Scholarship 

I went on to the University of the Orange Free State, which was just up the road. English and Latin were my majors. In many ways, it was an unpleasant experience, because it was a Christian National university, but I persevered, because my family didn’t have the money for me to go anywhere else. I went on to do honours in English, and my thesis was on the Afrikaner way of life as depicted in English. That proved quite controversial, and luckily the Rhodes Scholarship came along just as I was finishing up the thesis. I applied, and I was supported in applying, and I won the Scholarship.  

I had ten months to fill between winning the Scholarship and going to Oxford, and I decided to go to Perugia to learn Italian. After a month or so, I hitchhiked down through Italy and went from one place to another like a drunkard, drinking in architecture, before I went back through Europe to Oxford. Being in a place where nobody speaks your language and just learning things was quite an important part of my growth.  

‘I suddenly understood’ 

There’s no doubt in my mind that I needed the Oxford tutorial system desperately. Despite having read voraciously from the age of five onwards, I didn’t have the necessary level of discipline. And I remember going to extraordinary lectures, like those by the art historian Edgar Wind that introduced me to the interaction between literature and sculpture and painting and music. Alongside my academic work, I joined the Oxford Film Society and discovered a group of people who thought like me. I produced a film and learnt an enormous amount, although I did also reject Kris Kristofferson (California & Merton 1958) for a part!  

I also remember to the day when I suddenly understood what apartheid was really like. It was 1960 and I was at Oxford and on 21 March, the Sharpeville Massacre occurred. 59 innocent people were killed by the police, and the reaction of the people around me and the English newspapers just brought home to me that something was terribly wrong. From that moment, I started joining anti-apartheid movements and working actively to do something about it.  

‘Community radio is incredibly effective’ 

When I went back to South Africa, I found a job as a screenwriter for a group of people making nature films. That was fascinating but I didn’t see much of a future in it. Then, a job came up in English at the University of the Witwatersrand. At Wits, I had to teach a bit of everything, but it was quite staid: no novelist later than Thomas Hardy. So, I started running classes on the theatre of the absurd, on American novelists like Philip Roth and John Updike. I developed a whole new series of adult education lectures and started offering courses in modern drama and scriptwriting and the history of film. 

Wits noticed what I’d been doing and in 1970, they introduced a new subject called History of Drama and Film. Then, they established a School of Dramatic Art, and I became the head of the media side generally. The great thing was that we could invite black students to attend It was the law that there were black universities and there were white universities, but if a subject was not offered in a black university, then black students would be allowed to attend a white university. We could have as many black students as we wished, and at first there were only a few, but then they joined, and what a difference that made.  

Wits was increasingly an oppositional force, and police and soldiers invaded the campus regularly. It was a very violent time. While I was working at Wits, I was also writing newspaper columns, reviewing television, and that gave me the chance to point out when programmes were pure propaganda, just demonising the ANC. I would get hate mail and we were taken to court on a number of occasions, although we always won. What happened to me and my white relatives and colleagues is nothing compared to what other people endured – just listen to Kumi Naidoo’s (South Africa-at-Large & Magdalen 1987) story – but the threat was always there.  

I’d been lucky enough to spend some time in America where I’d learned about documentary filmmaking. Back in South Africa, I’d been teaching scriptwriting and filmmaking in the black townships when the French government asked me to run the Direct Cinema community filmmaking project for them in southern Africa. We gave young people cameras and asked them to go and make documentaries. I was very proud and very grateful to be given the opportunity to help with that work. It was a chance to work with people from different cultures and see things through their eyes.  

I was coming to the end of my tenure at Wits and thinking that I wanted to set up an NGO, something to do with community radio. I got a position as a visiting lecturer at the Radio Netherlands Training Centre. Back in South Africa, I was invited to a conference about working towards a new South Africa, and I became part of the delegation dealing with community radio as part of that. New licences were being granted and it was a complete reorganisation of the communications industry. Community radio is incredibly effective. It’s economical, and you can broadcast in any language. We got our NGO up and running and we started to train people. People began writing programmes about HIV and AIDS, for example. They weren’t didactic, but they used stories and language in a way that was worked for communities. 

“I am human because I participate. I share” 

I have two children from my first marriage, Paul and Anna, and in 1990 I remarried Charlotte, my Dutch wife, who brought two stepchildren. So, the children and grandchildren are amazing. Home now is a little village called Franschhoek, which means ‘French Corner.’ It was established in 1688 by the French Huguenots.  

A group of us in Franschhoek got together to try to do something to redress the injustices of the slave history of the Western Cape and the communities still affected by that. We focused on areas like housing, schools, job prospects and we asked Archbishop Tutu to be our patron and he agreed, which was wonderful. Archbishop Tutu said that ‘A person is a person through other persons. But even more, we say, I am human because I participate. I share.’ No matter how smart you are, unless you connect to other people, you’re going to miss out on something. It’s about interacting and trying to be kind.  

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