South Africa at 10: Unfinished Business

by Michael Lapsley

When South Africa became a democracy ten years ago, there were two giant challenges which faced us. How do we create a different kind of society? Specifically, how do we meet the basic needs of all South Africans – for water, electricity, jobs, shelter, education and health care? The second, equally important challenge is: How do we deal with the past? How do we deal with what we have done to one another? These two challenges are intertwined. The first relates to the economic, political and social. The second is, of course, related to the judicial, but of great importance, to the psychological, emotional and spiritual. How has the nation's story and journey affected us as individuals, not just at a “head” level but also at a “heart” level?

Ten years on, how much unfinished business do we still have? Knowing the problems which we still face as South Africans, can we also be a “light to the nations.” What can we learn and receive from other nations who have also known war, pain and oppression?

Anger, hatred,shame, guilt, and the journey to forgiveness: these were the themes explored at the unique “Journey to Healing and Wholeness” conference, an international gathering which took place on Robben Island   from April 14 to 17, 2004.

People from very different situations were given the opportunity to listen and reflect and to be deeply confronted by one another's stories. We discovered that despite the differences in context and history, the human family is one in its capacity for evil and its capacity for good.

The conference began with voices of those who have lived on death row. Elias Wanyama spoke of his years on death row in Uganda. As part of the security establishment, he had been involved in the repression of people, but tables were turned and he ended up facing execution. The victimizer became the victim.

“Death row is like living in a graveyard. You are already dead. You are just waiting for someone to push you into the grave. 99% of the time I was prepared to die. It was my expectation and in some ways we died many times on death row.”

“My entire time on the row of death was a struggle for hope, for when the electricity of hope is turned off, the bulb of life dies,” Duma Kumalo, a South African told us. “Death row is like living in a graveyard. You are already dead. You are just waiting for someone to push you into the grave. 99% of the time I was prepared to die. It was my expectation and in some ways we died many times on death row.”

Duma also shared wth us his own wisdom: “As we struggled, we realised that it was those in power who would one day be condemned and this is how we survived. We reversed the power. We knew they expected us to hate, so when we learned to laugh about the painful things that had happened to us, it took away their influence over us.”

An AIDS activist responded, “Not long ago, I was on my own version of death row with AIDS and so I felt connected to the stories. They made me think of the shame that many people in this country are living with because of HIV/AIDS.”

One Rwandese told us, “As the ex-prisoners spoke this morning, I began to realise that I was very grateful that I could listen to their voices. I began to realise that I have never tried to think about the perspective of those who committed the crimes in Rwanda. In listening today, through overcoming some of my own prejudices, I have begun to feel more hopeful about my own country.” He had begun to humanize the “other.” We were all confronted by our collective guilt and shame as part of the international community which failed to stop the genocide in Rwanda.

Christo Thesnaar from South Africa spoke about dealing with shame and guilt and coming to terms with what was done by previous generations: “I can deal with guilt and shame in different ways. I can try to position myself to blame others, other Afrikaaners. . . I benefited from the Apartheid system in terms of my education, health and wealth. I realised that I had to take responsibility for my place in this society. Shame is a continuous process. Whenever I hear another person's story of how their lives were affected by Apartheid, I feel this shame. I think that shame is a continual process of saying sorry, of acknowledgment.”

Karin Penno-Burmeister from Germany told us that the German experience shows that shame can be very dangerous and destructive. “I think National Socialism came about because of the shame that existed in Germany after the First World War.   On the other hand, the chance of shame is that we do don't want to ever feel it again and therefore it leads us to change our actions. . . We must accept this sort of shame which can help us rather than fear that it will destroy us.”

Repairing the Harm – When the Enemy Becomes a Friend

Bounthanh Phommasathit from Laos shared the story of how her community was bombed during the Vietnam war. Eventually she met with a Vietnam veteran who was responsible for bombing her community. He continues to be involved in acts of reparation and restorative justice. As we listened to her, it became clear that at a personal level, she was his liberator.

Pat Magee, an IRA (Irish Republican Army) combatant, told us of the journey of reconciliation which he is travelling with Jo Berry, the daughter of someone killed in a bomb which he detonated.

Marlene Jackamarra, an indigenous woman from Australia, spoke of the effect on her of being part of the “stolen generation” and the long road of recovering from abuse and patterns of self destruction.

Andrew Rice told us of his journey to coming to terms with the death of his brothers in New York on September 11, 2001. He is part of an organisation of 9/11 Families for Peaceful Tomorrows who are seeking to make lifegiving responses and to respond to the root causes of violence and terrorism and connect to communities on the other side of conflicts with the U.S.

Imam Rashied challenged us all to move from xenophobia to love of the outsider.

Saying Sorry

Loudeen Parsons, a Samoan New Zealander   spoke of the history of New Zealand colonialism and the significance of an historic apology by New Zealand Prime Minister Helen Clark (one of the patrons of the Institute for the Healing of Memories), to the people of Samoa. In response, an Australian confessed his sense of shame that his prime minister refuses to apologise to indigenous Australians for past wrongs. A South African of Indian descent spoke of his own shame about how many Indian South Africans have treated African people.

A youth delegation which took part in the final day of the conference came with words of hope:

“My name is Florence and I am an African, originally from Angola. I am proud and privileged to be an African. I have been through many different experiences but this Conference has helped me to know how to overcome. Although it's difficult, and it wasn't easy for me, it has definitely been worthwhile. Today   I am standing here telling you that if I can overcome, then you can overcome anything. Thank you.”

At the leper cemetery participants washed the gravestones – in particular where the names were written – asserting the dignity and seeking to rehumanize all those buried there. Earlier, Rwandese had spoken of the struggle to humanize the individuals behind the statistics of hundreds of thousands hacked to death.

During a closing pilgrimage around the island the conference began at the limestone quarry on Robben Island [the site where Nelson Mandela and other political prisoners under apartheid were forced to work] and visited other historic sites. At the leper cemetery participants washed the gravestones – in particular where the names were written – asserting the dignity and seeking to rehumanize all those buried there. Earlier, Rwandese had spoken of the struggle to humanize the individuals behind the statistics of hundreds of thousands hacked to death.

We have traveled a long way on the journey to healing these ten years but the road is still long. Whenever people are willing to create safe spaces to share what is in their hearts, they can inspire and give each other courage to continue on the road to healing and wholeness.

At the opening ceremony Archbishop Desmond Tutu asserted that the South African story tells us that it is possible to make a new beginning. It is possible for an enemy to become a friend. It is possible to believe in the future. And because of this, South Africa has become a beacon of hope in other parts of the world: “If they can do it in South Africa it can be done anywhere and everywhere.”

The Rev. Michael Lapsley, S.S.M. is director of The Institute for the Healing of Memories in Cape Town, South Africa. He is a regular contributor to “A Globe of Witnesses,” and may be reached by email at info@healingofmemories.co.za .