Msimangu makes this statement in Chapter 5 after he welcomes Kumalo to Johannesburg, while discussing the troubles of Gertrude and Absalom. Msimangu explains to Kumalo what he believes has gone wrong with their country: the tribal bonds have been broken, giving young men and women no reason to stay in their villages. These youths then go to Johannesburg, where they inevitably lose their way and become morally corrupt. Msimangu is very explicit about the cause-and-effect relationship that he perceives between the deterioration of black culture and crime against whites. As such, he expresses the novel’s central preoccupation with the matter of tribal structure and its important role in holding the country’s black population together.

Msimangu speaks these words in Chapter 7 immediately after he and Kumalo meet with John. Msimangu doubts John’s convictions, and instead of calling him a champion of justice, Msimangu calls John an example of power’s corrupting influence. Msimangu warns that power can corrupt black people as much as it corrupts white people. It is exactly this corruption that keeps South Africa in its predicament, and in this passage Msimangu unveils his dream of a selfless Christian faith that will bind all people—black and white—together.

Msimangu’s fear that by the time “they”—the whites—turn to loving, “we”—the blacks—will have turned to hating calls attention to Kumalo’s sense of the shift in black attitudes toward whites. Although Kumalo and Msimangu, members of an older generation, do not wish to cause strife, younger men such as Napoleon Letsitsi are less willing to tolerate white oppression. The willingness to be reconciled exists among both blacks and whites, Msimangu suggests, but never at the same time. Through Msimangu, Paton hints at the sad irony of a nation in which justice and racial equality are stymied by poor timing rather than bad intentions.

This quotation, from Chapter 11, stands in contrast to the novel’s early tendency to dwell on the lush South African landscape and urges sorrow instead. By breaking out of this pattern and addressing us with such urgency, the narrator reflects how grave and ingrained South Africa’s problems are. The quotation’s ominous last line is a note of prophetic foreshadowing of Absalom’s death, and though it certainly reflects the pessimism Kumalo and his brethren may feel, it also informs us that this episode is one of many blows that South Africa has yet to endure.

These words are written by Arthur Jarvis and read by his father in Chapter 21. Arthur contrasts a Christianity that supports the notion of black people as inferior with a true Christianity that rejects white superiority. Some Christians, Arthur says, argue that it is God’s will that black South Africans remain unskilled workers. Trying to educate them would be an un-Christian action, and therefore wrong. Arthur argues, however, that every human being has the right to develop his or her God-given gifts. Because South Africa ignores this principle, Arthur argues, it is not a truly Christian state.

The cut-off sentence that closes Arthur’s statement is especially poignant for his father, as these are the last words that Arthur writes before going downstairs to his death. Ironically, Arthur Jarvis is on the verge of envisioning a new South Africa when the problems of the old one cut him down. This tragic turn of events indicates the dire need for change.

These thoughts are part of the novel’s conclusion, as Kumalo keeps his vigil on the mountain while Absalom hangs. Kumalo prays for Africa, even though he knows it will be a long time before his prayers are answered. He understands that fear is the root of injustice: white men fear black men because there are so few whites and so many blacks. They worry that if the basic needs of the black population are met, then there will be little left for them. Kumalo observes, however, that there is nothing evil in him or his desires, or in his people’s desire for a better life. They want simply their due as humans (to “walk upright” and “use the fruits of the earth”). They are not motivated by hatred and revenge, but by a simple desire for dignity. Kumalo’s rumination ends with a somewhat troubling paradox: for whites to stop being afraid, they must begin to understand and then love; in order to understand and then love, however, they must stop being afraid. It thus seems impossible for whites and blacks to exist as equals.