Read Conversations with Myself Online
Authors: Nelson Mandela
13. CONVERSATION WITH RICHARD STENGEL
STENGEL: Do you think that people of your generation though, still have a kind of deference towards the white man that will not exist in the younger generation? Even yourself, for example, is there some residual…
MANDELA: Inferiority to the white man?
STENGEL: Ja.
MANDELA: No, I don’t think so…because especially when you have been in the liberation movement for so long and you have been in and out of jail…One of the purposes of the Defiance Campaign of 1952 was…to instill this spirit of resistance to oppression; not to fear the white man, the policeman, his jail, his courts…and at that time 8,500 people went to jail deliberately because they broke laws which were intended to humiliate us and to keep us apart, to reserve certain privileges for whites. We broke those laws and courted jail, and as a result of campaigns of that nature, you got our people now not to fear repression, to be prepared to challenge it. And if a man can challenge a law and go to jail and come out, that man is not likely to be intimidated, you see, by jail life, generally speaking. And, therefore, even in our older generation, there is no inferiority except that it may be said that we are more mature in handling problems. We know that contact is the best way of convincing somebody. Because most of these chaps, you see, haven’t got the enlightenment, they haven’t got the
depth
to be able to appreciate problems. And when you confront them with an argument very quietly, without raising your voice, [you do] not…seem to question [their] dignity and integrity. Let him relax and be able to understand your argument. Invariably, even the most hardened warders inside jail, when you sit down and talk to them, they crumble very badly, they crumble…
There was a chap, Sergeant Boonzaier, a very interesting chap…One day we had an argument and I said a few unpleasant things to him in the presence of other prisoners. But later, man, I thought I was too hard on him, because he’s comparatively a young chap. He was in his twenties, but a very tough, aloof and cold chap, and he had made a mistake, obviously. But I thought my remarks were too severe, so the following day I went back to the office and I said to him, ‘Look, I’m very sorry for what I said. It was not the proper thing to do. Even though you are wrong, but I’m sorry for what I said.’ He says, ‘You come back; you talk to me like that when you see your friends. You talk to me like that and then now you come privately crawling [
laughs
]…and ask for an excuse. You call those chaps that you swore at me in their presence.’ And I had to call them and to say, ‘No, he has got a good point because I pulled him up in your presence. And then I went to apologise to him privately and he wouldn’t accept it, you see.’ So he says, ‘Well, then I accept it.’ But even then, you see…there was no feeling of gratitude, of thanks to me, you know?…But he was still stuck-up [
laughs
]…
One of the things the warders fear is when…an officer of a higher rank comes to our section. They want to be there…to receive the officer…I see an officer coming from a distance. So I thought I should tip him and I said, ‘Mr Boonzaier, Boonzaier, the colonel is coming.’ He says, ‘So? So what? He knows this place. He can come and walk alone. I’m not going to join him.’ [
laughs
]…
Very
independent. He was an orphan. He told me his story and that is why I got so
ashamed
of what I had said…He was brought up in an orphanage and…one of the stories that he told me was that when they eat breakfast, or any other meal, they won’t talk to each other because they
hate
their status. The fact that they had no parents, no parental love, and his bitterness, to me was due to that. And I respected the chap very much because he was a self-made chap, yes. And he was independent and he was studying. He was absolutely fearless…I think he left, he left prison, yes. That’s why I talk so openly. Otherwise I wouldn’t because it would affect him.
14. FROM A LETTER TO WINNIE MANDELA, DATED 1 OCTOBER 1976, AT THE WOMEN’S JAIL, WRITTEN ORIGINALLY IN ISIXHOSA AND TRANSLATED CLUMSILY INTO ENGLISH BY A PRISON OFFICIAL
There are times of happiness when I laugh alone by thinking of the opportunities I had as well as times of pleasure. But there is much time for meditation than [of] being busy with important matters. There are many things that attract attention – to chat with friends, to read different books, things that refresh the mind, writing letters to families and friends and revising those from outside. Thoughts come only when relaxing and surround one person, my permanent friends I know very well. The conscience is torn, respect and love multiply. That is the only wealth I possess.
.....................................................................................
From a letter to Winnie Mandela, dated 1 October 1976
. It was originally handwritten in isiXhosa but translated into English and typed up by a prison official.
15. FROM A LETTER TO ADVOCATE FELICITY KENTRIDGE, DATED 9 MAY 1976
I’ve been out of action for 16 yrs [years] now and my views may be outdated. But I’ve never regarded women as in any way less competent than men…
16. FROM A LETTER TO WINNIE MANDELA, DATED 2 SEPTEMBER 1979
You will be quite right to regard ’79 as women’s year. They seem to be demanding that society lives up to its sermons on sex equality. The French lady Simone Veil has lived through frightful experiences to become President of the European Parliament, while Maria Pintasilgo cracks the whip in Portugal. From reports it is not clear who leads the Carter family. There are times when Carter’s Rosalynn seems to be wearing the trousers.
5
I need hardly mention the name of Margaret Thatcher. Despite the collapse of her world-wide empire and her emergence from the Second World War as a 3rd-rate power, Britain is in many respects still the centre of the world. What happens there attracts attention from far and wide.
Indira [Gandhi] will rightly remind us that in this respect Europe is merely following the example of Asia which in the last 2 decades has produced no less than 2 lady premiers. Indeed…past centuries have seen many female rulers. Isabella of Spain, Elizabeth I of England, Catherine the Great of Russia (how great she really was, I don’t know), the Batlokwa queen, Mantatisi, and many more.
6
But all these became first ladies in spite of themselves – through heredity. Today the spotlight falls on these women who have pulled themselves up by their own bootstraps.
17. FROM A LETTER TO AMINA CACHALIA, DATED 27 APRIL 1980
How dare you torture me by reminding me of that pigeon meal! That is rubbing salt into a fresh wound. After 28 yrs [years] I still think nostalgically of that memorable day. Yes, you are quite right! It’s time for another meal. Where and when? It no longer matters. That you still think about it, and that you ask such relevant questions is terrific enough. I am tempted to say: boil the damn pigeons and fly them over. If some men in JHB [Johannesburg] frequently order a meal from a Paris restaurant, why can’t you manage it over a thousand miles? Of course, this is wishful thinking; You and I know very well that the meal would never reach the Atlantic. Last Dec[ember], our friend, Ayesha, from CT [Cape Town] sent me a Xmas meal fit for a monarch, unaware of the fact that there is no provision in this dpt [department] for such gestures.
7
What a treat it would have been to taste fresh and real curry prepared at home! Not only was the parcel returned to her, but some of the containers were smashed. What started off with a lot of goodwill and affection ended up in frustration and, it may well be, even in bitterness. I wrote her a comforting letter and can only hope that she felt a little better after getting it. But even as I scribble these hurried lines, the heart and the head, the blood and the brain are fighting each other, the one pining idealistically for all the good things we miss in life, the head resisting and guided by the concrete realities in which we live out our lives.
18. CONVERSATION WITH RICHARD STENGEL
MANDELA: I had a number of works by [C J] Langenhoven…
Christus Van Nasareth
,
Christ of Nazareth
[
Shadows of Nazareth
]. And the other one is
Loeloeraai
…That was a very clever book…written in the twenties…where a man from earth flew to the moon…And he then compares the conditions [on] the moon and the conditions on earth. Actually, it was a man from the moon who flew to the earth, and he describes the contrast between life on earth and life in [on] the moon, and how the streets there are paved with gold and so on, and how he flew back to his country…
STENGEL: Aha, and the reason you liked Langenhoven? Why did you like him?
MANDELA: Well, firstly he wrote very simply. And secondly, he was a very humorous writer, and of course part of his writing was to
free
the Afrikaner from the desire to imitate the English. His idea was to instil
national
pride amongst the [Afrikaners] and so I liked him very much. Yes…And then from the point of view of poetry, [D J] Opperman…His poetry was not really geared towards any particular idea of a political nature; it was just a question of literature, pure literature, which was rather
very
good.
19. FROM A LETTER TO WINNIE MANDELA, CARE OF BRIGADIER AUCAMP, PRETORIA PRISON, DATED 1 JANUARY 1970
A novel by [C J] Langenhoven, ‘Skaduwees van Nasaret’ [
Shadows of Nazareth
] depicts the trial of Christ by Pontius Pilate when Israel was a Roman dependency and when Pilate was its military governor. I read the novel in 1964 and now speak purely from memory. Yet though the incident described in the book occurred about 2000 years ago, the story contains a moral whose truth is universal and which is as fresh and meaningful today as it was at the height of the Roman Empire. After the trial, Pilate writes to a friend in Rome to whom he makes remarkable confessions. Briefly this is the story as told by him and, for convenience, I have put it in the first person:
.....................................................................................
From a letter to Winnie Mandela, dated 1 January 1970
.
As governor of a Roman province I have tried many cases involving all types of rebels. But this trial [of] Christ I shall never forget! One day a huge crowd of Jewish priests and followers, literally shivering with rage and excitement, assembled just outside my palace and demanded that I crucify Christ for claiming to be king of the Jews, at the same time pointing to a man whose arms and feet were heavily chained. I looked at the prisoner and our eyes met. In the midst of all the excitement and noise, he remained perfectly calm, quiet and confident as if he had millions of people on his side. I told the priests that the prisoner had broken Jewish, and not Roman law and that they were the rightful people to try him. But in spite of my explanation they stubbornly persisted in demanding his crucifixion [
sic
], immediately realised their dilemma. Christ had become a mighty force in the land and the mass[es] of the people were fully behind him. In this situation the priests felt powerless and did not want to take responsibility of sentencing and condemning him. Their only solution was to induce imperial Rome to do what they were unable to do.
At festival time it has always been the practice to release some prisoners and as the festival was then due, I suggested that this prisoner be set free. But instead, the priests asked that Barabas, a notorious prisoner, be released and that Christ be executed. At this stage I went into Court and ordered the prisoner to be brought in. My wife and those of other Roman officials occupied seats in the bay reserved for distinguished guests. As the prisoner walked in my wife and her companions instinctively got up as a mark of respect for Christ, but soon realised that this man was a Jew and a prisoner, and whereupon they resumed their seats. For the first time in my experience, I faced a man whose eyes appeared to see right through me, whereas I was unable to fathom him. Written across his face was a gleam of love and hope; but at the same time he bore the expression of one who was deeply pained by the folly and suffering of mankind as a whole. He gazed upwards and his eyes seemed to pierce through the roof and to see right beyond the stars. It became clear that in that courtroom authority was not in me as a judge, but was down below in the dock where the prisoner was.