The first event I organized to raise awareness on campus about apartheid was a rap session with black and white South Africans, who described their experiences growing up under apartheid. This event was held on February 11, 1982, at 9:00 pm in the Carman Hall Lounge. Approximately twenty-five students attended. This initial program was well received and it encouraged me to continue.

I played varsity basketball, and my teammates would often ridicule me by calling me “a radical” when I entered the locker room with a handful of flyers announcing our next event. Initially, I was self-conscious when people would see me on campus posting flyers. I saw myself as an athlete, not an activist. Students were generally not aware of apartheid and the situation in South Africa. Many had no idea where South Africa was located. I remember one student asking me, “What is the capital of Africa?” Taking a stand against apartheid and calling for divestment was controversial. In fact, taking a stand on any issue was seen as unusual in the early 1980s. The most common locker room conversation my teammates had was about signing bonuses and investment banking jobs with Wall Street firms. “Greed is good” was the classic line from the ’80s film Wall Street. That line epitomized the times.

It was the time of Ronald Reagan. The Reagan administration took a direct right turn on President Carter’s emphasis on human rights in foreign policy matters. The Reagan administration had a policy called “constructive engagement” toward South Africa. This policy essentially decreed the U.S. would continue to do business with South Africa. In fact, the Reagan administration “accidentally” sent electronic cattle batons to the South African police to be used on its black citizens. On behalf of the Coalition, I sent a letter of protest to Congressman Mervyn Dymally. America had South Africa’s back. Apartheid was not a problem. This had to change.

I determined that the best approach would be to educate students on the facts about apartheid and how the role divestment could play to promote change. Informational flyers, prominent guest speakers, films, and leafleting were the central focus to raise awareness on apartheid and Columbia’s investments in corporations with operations in South Africa.
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The first year of activity concluded with former Brooklyn Congresswoman and 1972 U.S. presidential candidate Shirley Chisholm speaking in Ferris Booth Hall (FBH) about her experiences in South Africa as a member of a Congressional delegation. She recalled being given the title “honorary white” by the South African government in order to make the trip.

The first Coalition rally was scheduled for April 3, 1982, on College Walk. I submitted the necessary paperwork on March 15. Days before the rally, I was contacted by Phillip Benson, Vice President for Student Services, and he proposed the rally date being changed given that April 3 was Dean’s Day and alumni who would be solicited for donations would be visiting campus. I refused. According to the Spectator (April 2, 1982), “A Columbia official Wednesday asked student organizers of Saturday’s rally protesting university investments in South Africa to move the demonstration away from College Walk so alumni who are visiting the campus for the College’s Dean’s Day would not be deterred from giving donations. ‘It could have an impact,’ Phillip Benson, Vice President for Student Services, said when asked if the demonstrations might dampen the generosity of the alumni. ‘These particular alumni are not involved in demonstrations all the time and we don’t want to make it unpleasant for them,’ Benson explained.”

Ultimately, the rally was held on April 3, 1982, in Uris Plaza behind Low Library. It was a cold, rainy day. Five people attended—my cousin, who was visiting from Los Angeles, three students, and me. I gave a short speech. Despite our minuscule  numbers, it seemed like the administration feared the Coalition and our message: Columbia out of South Africa. Divest now.

She quoted Bishop Desmond Tutu, a Black leader who last summer received an honorary degree from Columbia, as saying “Foreign investors must not kid themselves. Their investments maintain the apartheid system.” We had won. The resolution passed, but what did it mean? Were the trustees required to act based on the Senate’s recommendation? We were unsure.

Ransby concluded by saying, “The Trustees have not heard the last of the divestment issue…supporters of divestment would make it an issue again in the fall by publicizing and popularizing the issue on campus.” The Spectator editorial: “The university’s Trustees made the wrong decision on divestment, and the Columbia community must not quietly accept this outrage.”

I had decided to leave school for my senior year to work on U.S. Senator Alan Cranston’s presidential campaign. After working for his campaign during the summer in Washington, D.C., I decided days before the start of the school year to return to school. Basketball was no longer a priority in my life. I decided not to play my senior year and focus on my academics, the Cranston campaign on campus, and divestment.

The University Senate resolution had been rejected, and senators argued over the appropriate response. On September 26, 1983, the Spectator reported that the “Senate rethinks pro-divest stance.” The article stated: “After an hour and a half [of] heated debate, the University Senate Friday voted to set up a ‘balanced committee’ to reexamine the divestment issue and reply to the trustees’ summer decision not to divest.” The article’s photo caption read, “Student caucus leader Barbara Ransby accuses College Senator James Weinstein of ‘childish ramblings with racist implications’ in Friday’s Senate debate on the divesture issue.” The viability of the Senate was in question as well. The Spectator article quoted professor Sherman Beychock of biological sciences as saying, “An appearance of impotence has been cast over the Senate. The Senate must take a firm stand.”

The mood was shifting on campus. The pressure had to be raised in order to move divestment forward. On October 3, 1983, the Trustees met. I was on the front page of the Spectator shouting at a trustee as he entered Low Library. We were no longer talking politely, and we were not leaving. We redoubled our efforts to mobilize and inform the campus with a teach-in on November 30, and on December 8 the Coalition sponsored a full-page ad in the Spectator, which listed the names of members of the Columbia community who supported divestment.

On March 23, 1984, the Senate’s Ad Hoc Committee on Investments met. Speakers advocated for divestment. I spoke and asked, “Where is the commitment? Where is the courage?” I concluded my remarks by announcing that I and others would fast for a week “to dramatize our solidarity with the oppressed of South Africa.” The Spectator (March 26, 1983) quoted Dean Robert Pollack as he speculated that the fast would be “a successful attempt to make people uncomfortable with their conscience.”
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I had never fasted before. I had my last meal on Sunday, March 25. I had miso broth on Monday and only water after that. I recall getting very tired and having to rest during the day, as I tried to keep up my normal schedule of attending classes, organizing, and studying. In addition to the fast, students held a vigil on the steps of Low Library with a banner demanding Columbiaout of South Africa. On Tuesday March 25, 1984, campus Catholic chaplain Father Paul Dinter met with members of the Coalition.

Forty members of the Coalition for a Free South Africa, all wearing black armbands, most of them fasting, gathered last night in Wallach Hall’s Malcolm X Lounge to hear campus Catholic Chaplain Fr. Paul Dinter encourage their gesture of solidarity with South Africa blacks suffering under the legal system of racial discrimination, apartheid. Leader Danny Armstrong said the fasts were “A symbolic sacrifice for others who are suffering. We hope that our University will have the courage and integrity to follow suit.’” “Fasting,” noted Dinter, “has a power in and of itself in a selfish and apathetic society.”

The fast attracted the quiet support of students who were apathetic toward the issue of divestment. In Broadway magazine, student Julius Genachowski wrote, “The fasting for divestment last week was so important—it made us feel guilty….The vigil for divestment was not intended to end our selfishness, and I’m sure it alone won’t. But it probably lifted a few of us out of the apathy trap. And that’s a start.”

During the week of the fast on March 28, there was a U.S. presidential debate between candidates for the Democratic nomination. Walter Mondale, the former vice president to Jimmy Carter, was the frontrunner and eventual nominee, but civil rights leader Reverend Jesse Jackson captivated Democrats and black Americans with his trailblazing run at the nomination. Former U.S. Senator f rom Colorado Gary Hart was the third debate participant. The candidates and the media converged on Low Library for the debate. Coalition members stood on the steps of Low singing anti-apartheid songs and chanting divestment slogans. Reverend Jackson called on American companies to leave South Africa during the televised debate. Coalition members, watching on television, cheered.

As the Trustees dug in, the Coalition and its supporters became more aggressive in our demands that the university divest. On April 2, 1984, a rally was held outside the trustees’ meeting. The Spectator quoted Barbara Ransby as telling the crowd: “These people [the trustees] apparently think their supreme wisdom is greater than the wisdom of the majority of the people on this campus.” Rally attendees no longer stood back a respectfuldistance from the entrance of Low Library, chanting. At this rally, we converged on the glass doors, angrily shouting and pounding on them. At one point, a crack appeared on one of the glass doors. We were no longer talking nice and leaving.

On April 26, 1984, the Spectator announced that the University Senate Ad Hoc Committee on Investments would not deliver a final report with its recommendation to the Board of Trustees. College Dean Robert Pollack who headed the Committee, sought unanimity from the Ad Hoc Committee members. Senator Barbara Ransby stood firm on the demand that the trustees commit to divestment. Dean Pollack and other committee members were prepared to present to the trustees a recommendation to freeze investments, which Pollack suggested would eventually lead to total divestment. There was a great deal of back and forth between senators and Pollack. I met with Dean Pollack and Senator Stuart Garcia, as well as with Barbara and Coalition members.

This issue of a freeze versus demanding divestment was the first and only disagreement I can recall having with Barbara. I advocated for a freeze. A key concern in my mind was if we held out for divestment, who would carry on the work next year? Barbara was graduating and going on to the University of Michigan. I was graduating and eventually going to Zimbabwe for a year. I knew what it took to build the support we had on campus. Organizing,meeting, and preparing every day; I had done it for three years. We built support by having events nearly every two or three weeks. We had a small nucleus of committed members. We could pull numbers of supporters for a rally or a speaker, but the work of the Coalition was done by a small group—posting flyers, standing at tables, and using their personal money, when necessary, to cover expenses. I could always count on Greg Smith and Greg Butler (“the Gregs”) and a few others. Others drifted in and out. I had learned early that supporters/helpers were in a revolving door. Who would do the day-to-day work next year? This concern was a major reason I felt a freeze would be advantageous. We got something.

Barbara’s position, according to the Spectator (April 30, 1984) was stated by her as follows: “It is wrong for us not to deal with the crux of the controversy. The only recommendation is one which points us in the direction of divestment. To call for a freeze does not mean divestment, it does not lead to divestment, and it is not sufficient…it is a contradiction to say that it’s unethical to purchase more stock in these companies, but that it’s okay to keep what you have. Basically, I don’t think a freeze is enough. It isn’t a step toward divestment.” I failed to grasp the depth and breadth of student support for divestment. In one Coalition meeting, as we debated to agree to a freeze or stand firm for total divestment, I recall a new student supporter, whom I did not recognize, gleefully express his excitement for the issue of divestment and saying how committed he was to go all out next year organizing. I could only think, “I have heard that before….and what happens when midterms hit or a paper is due?” The revolving door was in my mind. To continue to demand divestment would require a committed group who were willing to sacrifice. I did not see it.

I misjudged. Barbara was correct in holding out for divestment. Students were committed and willing to sacrifice and organize. Holding out for divestment was the principled stance. Sometimes you just have to have faith; Barbara had it. In response to lacking unanimity, Dean Pollack delivered an “interim report” to President Sovern. In delivering the interim report, Dean Pollack asked President Sovern “to ask the trustees to impose a freeze in investments in companies operating in South Africa as a sign of good faith to my committee as we continue next year” (Spectator April 30, 1984). On April 27, 1984, President Sovern agreed to recommend that the Trustees freeze investments.

An article by Daniel’s brother, Don, reflecting on his experience at a Coalition for a Free South Africa rally outside Low Library, Columbia University’s administration center, while Democratic presidential candidates debated live on national television.