“The Lemon Orchard,” which takes place in South Africa during apartheid (a period of legally enforced racial segregation), is a stark portrayal of how large-scale, institutionalized racism affects people of color. But by focusing on a specific instance of racism—four white men taking a “coloured” (multiracial) man captive and whipping him as punishment for disrespecting a white person—the story also digs deep into the logical fallacies and hypocrisy underpinning the discriminatory beliefs of ordinary white civilians. Through the white men’s dialogue, the story exposes the underlying inconsistencies beneath racial discrimination, arguing that people have to deceive themselves and hold hypocritical double standards in order to justify treating people of other races like second-class citizens.
The white men in the story clearly judge the coloured man differently than they judge themselves, suggesting that discriminating against others is inherently illogical and unfair since it requires holding inconsistent double standards. As the white men lead the coloured man through a lemon orchard to whip him under cover of night, they berate him with racial slurs that are meant to dehumanize Black and multiracial people and characterize them as savages. Yet the group’s leader also points out that the coloured man is “one of those educated bushmen,” and that he’s a teacher at a local school. The white men’s crude manner of speech and mockery of education suggests that they are actually less educated and less civilized than this well-educated teacher is—clearly, then, the standards by which they judge non-white people are entirely separate from those by which they judge themselves. Even more nefarious is how the white men treat the coloured man like a criminal despite the fact that they’re the ones about to commit a horrible act of violence against him. The coloured man’s only offense is that he “had the audacity to be cheeky and uncivilised towards a minister” at the white men’s church—he hasn’t committed an actual crime, yet they’re going to violently punish him. Again, the white men are deeply hypocritical in their treatment of the coloured man: they decry him as “uncivilised” yet march him off to be whipped, seemingly in denial of the fact that they’re the barbaric criminals in this situation.
Indeed, the story suggests that those who discriminate against others often know that this is wrong but do it anyway, further condemning this behavior as hypocritical. The fact that the white men kidnap the coloured man at night and take him to a secret place to be whipped suggests that, on some level, they feel guilty about what they’re doing—yet they feel righteous in going through with it anyway. In this way, the story implies that racist people like the white men in the story have to engage in mental gymnastics to uphold their beliefs. They must lie to themselves and validate one another through a kind of mob mentality in order to justify their discriminatory and violent treatment of those who are different from them. In particular, the man with the lantern (who guides the others through the orchard) is notably less overt in his cruelty and seemingly more aware of his actions than the other white men are. Although he’s certainly complicit in their plan to whip the coloured man, he’s the only one who isn’t armed with a weapon (the leader wields a loaded shotgun while Andries and another man carry whips). He expresses anxiety over the leader’s threats about shooting the white men, not wanting to “be involved in any murder.” Clearly, the man with the lantern knows that what they’re doing is wrong—yet he goes along with the others in the group, allowing his misguided beliefs about non-white people to usurp his nagging sense of moral responsibility. At one point, the man with the lantern hears a farm dog barking in the distance and says, “I would like to have a dog like that. I would take great care of such a dog.” Though this is a seemingly unrelated comment made in passing, it’s actually very telling: the man with the lantern is clearly capable of empathy and care for beings who are different than him, yet he hypocritically chooses to go along with treating the coloured man worse than how he’d treat an animal. Again, he seems to be compartmentalizing his underlying moral conscience in order to conform to apartheid, reinforce his discriminatory beliefs, and absolve himself of guilt.
“The Lemon Orchard” demonstrates how apartheid’s systemic segregation plays out on a small scale, personalizing the issue by showing how misguided and hypocritical individual racists are in their behavior toward marginalized people. And ultimately, the story shows that by enshrining discrimination within the legal system, people feel justified in denying and undermining their consciences in order to act out this discrimination in their personal lives.
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Discrimination and Hypocrisy Quotes in The Lemon Orchard
‘Cold?’ the man with the shotgun asked, speaking with sarcasm. ‘Are you colder than this verdomte hotnot, here?’ And he gestured in the dark with the muzzle of the gun at the man who stumbled along in their midst and who was the only one not warmly dressed.
This man wore trousers and a raincoat which they had allowed him to pull on over his pyjamas when they had taken him from his lodgings, and he shivered now with chill, clenching his teeth to prevent them from chattering. He had not been given time to tie his shoes and the metal-covered ends of the laces clicked as he moved.
‘For God’s sake, don’t shoot him,’ the man with the light said, laughing a little nervously. ‘We don’t want to be involved in any murder.’
‘What are you saying, man?’ the leader asked. Now with the beam of the battery-lamp on his face the shadows in it were washed away to reveal the mass of tiny wrinkled and deep creases which covered the red-clay complexion of his face like the myriad lines which indicate rivers, streams, roads and railways on a map. They wound around the ridges of his chin and climbed the sharp range of his nose and the peaks of his chin and cheekbones, and his eyes were hard and blue like two frozen lakes.
‘This is mos a slim hotnot,’ he said again. ‘A teacher in a school for which we pay. He lives off our sweat, and he had the audacity to be cheeky and uncivilised towards a minister of our church and no hotnot will be cheeky to a white man while I live.’
‘Ja, man,’ the lantern-bearer agreed. ‘But we are going to deal with him. There is no necessity to shoot him. We don’t want that kind of trouble.’
‘I will shoot whatever hotnot or kaffir I desire, and see me get into trouble over it. I demand respect from these donders. Let them answer when they’re spoken to.’
The man who had jeered about the prisoner’s fear stepped up then, and hit him in the face, striking him on a cheekbone with the clenched fist which still held the sjambok. He was angry over the delay and wanted the man to submit so that they could proceed. ‘Listen you hotnot bastard,’ he said loudly. ‘Why don’t you answer?’
The man stumbled, caught himself and stood in the rambling shadow of one of the lemon trees. The lantern-light swung on him and he looked away from the centre of the beam. He was afraid the leader would shoot him in anger and he had no wish to die. He straightened up and looked away from them.
‘Well?’ demanded the man who had struck him.
‘Yes, baas,’ the bound man said, speaking with a mixture of dignity and contempt which was missed by those who surrounded him.
‘And afterwards he won’t be seen around here again. He will pack his things and go and live in the city where they’re not so particular about the dignity of the volk. Do you hear, hotnot?’ This time they were not concerned about receiving a reply but the leader went on, saying, ‘We don’t want any educated hottentots in our town.’
‘Neither black Englishmen,’ added one of the others.
The dog started barking again at the farm house which was invisible on the dark hillside at the other end of the little valley. ‘It’s that Jagter,’ the man with the lantern said. ‘I wonder what bothers him. He is a good watchdog. I offered Meneer Marais five pounds for that dog, but he won’t sell. I would like to have a dog like that. I would take great care of such a dog.’
The blackness of the night crouched over the orchard and the leaves rustled with a harsh whispering that was inconsistent with the pleasant scent of the lemons. The chill in the air had increased, and far-off the creek-creek-creek of the crickets blended into solid strips of high-pitched sound. Then the moon came from behind the banks of cloud and its white light touched the leaves with wet silver, and the perfume of lemons seemed to grow stronger, as if the juice was being crushed from them.
