Ernest Cole’s photographs of 1960s South Africa during apartheid

Ernest Cole was born in 1940, in Eersterust, a township near Pretoria, and went on to become South Africa’s first black freelance photographer and one of the great chroniclers of the black experience during apartheid. Cole risked his life to document subjects and injustices that he knew would never be published while apartheid still raged.

In 1966, fearing arrest, he went into exile, smuggling out precious negatives and prints. Cole would never return to South Africa, living in Sweden and the US. His seminal work, House of Bondage, was published in 1967.

The book, as well as Cole’s writings from the time and never-before-seen images that were thought to have been lost, form the basis of an exhibition at Foam, Amsterdam. The text which accompanies these images was written by Cole and is excerpted from a new edition of House of Bondage published by Aperture.

The mines

The work of mining the gold — and three tonnes of​ ​earth from shafts two miles deep must be sifted to​ ​yield one ounce — falls entirely to Africans. Twenty-four​ ​hours a day, six days a week, half a million​ ​Africans are at work in the earth. Pensive tribesmen, newly recruited to mine labour, awaiting processing and assignment.

Police and passes

Every African must show his pass before being allowed to go about his business. Police check passes for employer’s signature, proof that taxes are paid, and legality of presence in white areas. Sometimes a check broadens into search of a man’s person and belongings.

African middle class

Lillian Ngoyi, member of the since-banned African National Conference, at a meeting of white liberals. As far as they are able, middle-class African families will try to behave like Englishmen, copying their dress, their conversational quirks, their mannerisms and the way they raise their children. The resemblance often is close, except that no amount of posturing can obscure the fact that they are black. The middle class sees itself as a bridge between races.

Nightmare rides

With no room inside the train, some ride between cars. Which black train to take is a matter of guesswork. They have no destination signs and no announcement of arrivals is made. Head car may be numbered to show its route, but the number is often wrong. In confusion, passengers sometimes jump across tracks and some are killed by express trains. Whistle has sounded, train is moving, but people are still trying to get on.

Education for servitude

Small scholars have come early to school and must wait in the yard until the 11am session. Because of the shortage of school buildings, African children attend classes in any available structure — a tin shack or a church. For a new school to be built, township residents must first raise half the cost.

The cheap servant

It is against the law for black servants to live under the same roof as their employers. In a private home, servants would have a separate little room in the backyard. She lives on the edge of opulence, while her own world is bare. Newspapers are her carpet, fruit crates her chairs and table.

Black ingenuity

Note: This image is from a tentative selection Cole made for House of Bondage, looking at the possibilities for black culture under apartheid. It is unknown why he abandoned plans to include the chapter. No text or drafts of captions were in Cole’s material that was repatriated from Stockholm in 2017.

For whites only

The infectious spread of apartheid into the smallest detail of daily living has made South Africa a land of signs. They are everywhere, written in English or Afrikaans or in a local native dialect as the situation may require. But always their purpose is the same: to spell out the almost total separation of facilities on the basis of race.

“Ernest Cole, House of Bondage” is at Foam, Amsterdam until June 14; foam.org. A new edition of the photobook is published by Aperture; aperture.org

Follow @FTMag on Twitter to find out about our latest stories first