Cry for the broken tribe, for the law and the custom that is gone. Aye, and cry aloud for the man who is dead, for the woman and children bereaved. Cry the beloved country, these things are not yet at an end. The sun pours down on the earth, on the lovely land that man cannot enjoy. He knows only the fear of his heart. (Chap 11, p. 74)
Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much. (Chap 12, p. 80)
I finished reading this novel of Alan Paton last night, and it is the best I have read in a long time. Set in South Africa in the '40s, the story is full of this fear. Fear threatens to overwhelm all the characters, but they respond so differently to it. Some run from it, try to block it out, or overpower it. And a few struggle to love despite it, and overcome it with love, not fear or hate. For the black main characters, this love must deal with the injustice that has broken their tribe and land, yet as one says:
I have one great fear in my heart, that one day when they turn to loving they will find that we are turned to hating. (Chap 36, p 276).
The introduction quotes a speech by Paton which ends with his belief that a solution to his country's profound problems will come, not in the use of power, but in the the "weak thing, tender thing" love. This was a conclusion that came out of a life dedicated to working with the prison system and with those hardest to love, and probably also a reflection on 1 Jn 4:18.
