Books in Brief

The Two Faces of Apartheid, by Paul Giniewski (Regnery, $5.95). Pubdate had barely passed before the hounds of professional Liberalism got their teeth into this landmark study of South Africa’s national policy of separate development; Library Journal’s fatuous (or malicious—take your pick) reviewer even went so far as to impute “bias and prejudice” to the author—a French journalist-scholar known throughout Europe and Britain for his sincerity and impartiality. The mudslinging derives, of course, from Liberalism’s “democracy and damn the consequences” monomania, not from anything radical or reactionary in The Two Faces. The author, in fact, bestows withering criticism as well as high praise, as his perceptive eye scans and probes the horizontal and vertical coordinates of South Africa’s crash program to lead its Bantu peoples to self-sufficiency and nationhood. Giniewski’s scholarship is impeccable, and his style is rich with grace and imaginativeness: “When building a ship, [finding] the exact location of the center of gravity is the most complicated operation; computers have to be assisted by the intuition and experience of proficient technicians. A nation is not the inert mass of steel of a transatlantic liner, whose weight and measurements are decided at will. When you compute with human beings, expect your calculations to be shattered by the unexpected variation of human nature.” While LJ’s anathema will probably enjoin libraries from, stocking it (something NR readers could rectify), Giniewski’s book stands as a definitive study, full of realistic proposals for additional social reform, and a hallmark of thoroughly enjoyable, honest journalism.

J. G. CAMPAIGNS JR.

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The Two Faces of Apartheid, by Paul Giniewski (Regnery, $5.95). Pubdate had barely passed before the hounds of professional Liberalism got their teeth into this landmark study of South Africa’s national policy of separate development; Library Journal’s fatuous (or malicious—take your pick) reviewer even went so far as to impute “bias and prejudice” to the author—a French journalist-scholar known throughout Europe and Britain for his sincerity and impartiality. The mudslinging derives, of course, from Liberalism’s “democracy and damn the consequences” monomania, not from anything radical or reactionary in The Two Faces. The author, in fact, bestows withering criticism as well as high praise, as his perceptive eye scans and probes the horizontal and vertical coordinates of South Africa’s crash program to lead its Bantu peoples to self-sufficiency and nationhood. Giniewski’s scholarship is impeccable, and his style is rich with grace and imaginativeness: “When building a ship, [finding] the exact location of the center of gravity is the most complicated operation; computers have to be assisted by the intuition and experience of proficient technicians. A nation is not the inert mass of steel of a transatlantic liner, whose weight and measurements are decided at will. When you compute with human beings, expect your calculations to be shattered by the unexpected variation of human nature.” While LJ’s anathema will probably enjoin libraries from, stocking it (something NR readers could rectify), Giniewski’s book stands as a definitive study, full of realistic proposals for additional social reform, and a hallmark of thoroughly enjoyable, honest journalism.

J. G. CAMPAIGNS JR.