Hiding Behind His Title: From Both His Name and His Conscience

Though seemingly enveloped in a shroud of unique benevolence, it is upon deeper scrutiny that another side of the Magistrate’s dual personality becomes apparent. By use of the rather harsh Colonel Joll as foil to our narrator, J.M Coetzee first casts the Magistrate in a flattering light: when Joll demands the investigation of the old man and young boy caught as prisoners, the Magistrate begins to openly question the orders, thus simultaneously protecting the two as well as instantly separating himself from the “antagonist” Joll. Not only do we as readers behold this flout of political power in the name of justice, but we remain privy to the Magistrate’s thoughts as he himself realizes “I grow conscious that I am pleading for them.”
This concept of the Magistrate’s “good” versus Joll’s “evil” occurs several times throughout the book: when Joll tortures the prisoners, the Magistrate sneaks down to aid them. When Joll starts out to find more prisoners, the Magistrate does what he can to impede the journey. When Joll sends home the captive river people, the Magistrate grows openly angry at the injustice of it all and demands bread for the people. By drenching his character in both public geniality and personal intelligence (evident in the many sections concerning the Magistrate’s inner drive for answers and history, such as his excavation of the buildings in the desert), Coetzee effectively blindfolds the reader into feeling sympathy and pride for the Magistrate. However, this assessment is incorrect. Though perhaps not able to be rightfully called “evil”, the Magistrate proves himself to be no more than a coward on several occasions. He may begin his response to Joll’s injustices with apparent humanity and compassion, however as soon as the situation begins to get difficult, the Magistrate (who has “not asked for more than a quiet life in quiet times”) switches faces. The man who once risked his own safety and position to check on the tortured prisoners, does nothing more than temporarily help the young boy before leaving for his “military stew and his comfortable bed”. The man who once seemed to embrace the morality of taking in the innocent river people, only “flees for refugee to the furthest corner of [his] apartment” when sickness and misfortune hit. Instead of living up to his title as apparent protagonist, the Magistrate prefers to hide from the problem (just as he hides from the crying and coughing baby) and bury himself within his inner thoughts and self pity, behaving as though the moral strife that comes with his position is not, in fact, his responsibility, nor his concern, rather, was thrust upon him as a cruel fate for after all, he “did not mean to get embroiled in this.” What is the purpose of creating such a flawed narrator? Is the Magistrate any better than Joll?