The Power of True Fprgoveness
Travel can give gifts of many kinds but once in awhile you receive life inspiration. That happened to me yesterday when Chuck and I visited Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela and other political prisoners were imprisoned for more than 20 years on this bleak island near Capetown, South Africa.
I was wrong in thinking I was prepared for this visit. I had visited Alcatraz Prison years ago, another island maximum security prison in California. Like Alcatraz, there were bleak concrete buildings topped with barbed wire, harsh solitary cells with only straw mats for beds and a small pot for toileting. But the prisoners, the guards, and the government were of a different breed.
Our black guide, Patrick, was a prisoner at Robben Island for l8 years. A colleague of Mandela's, he described the daily emotional abuse meeted out by the oppressive White Afrikaner prison staff to these Back and Asian political prisoners. Most of them had simply acted or spoken against the White government's harsh separatist policies, and were subsequently treated as subhumans on the island. Many were forced to work 8 hours per day in 90 degree temperatures, breaking stones in the lime quarry with no toilets or water. Other remained in isolation for day. Food consisted of gruel and rotten vegetables. Sentences lasted from 2 years to life.
But what surprised me was the overwhelming attitude of forgiveness expressed by all staff members. Our guard spoke of the sense of community among the prisoners, the common purpose of equality, and the forgiveness needed to build a "new South Africa." He now works alongside his former wardens at the prison.
Our bus driver assurerd us that all questions would be answered according to our "universal democratic rights." Our taxi driver, another survivor of apartheid, showed us photos of his home destroyed by the Afrikaaner government. "But," he said, "we must now forgive and move on to build a better South Africa." That same sentiment once again.
I wondered how these innocent survisors could all forgive their captors after years of such unwarranted abuse. Perhaps it was that shared purpose of equality. As the prisoners petitioned for their rights, conditions were improved one at a time, providing momentum for their cause. Perhaps it was their passion for a better life for their children. But South Africa really seems to be changing for the better. Their children now have equal opportunity to education.
Whatever the reason, I felt the power of true forgiveness from each of them. I thought about the people in my life who have wronged me and my own struggles to forgive them. My small hurts were nothing compared to the years of suffering for these innnocent men, working for simple dignity, a vote, and equal opportunities for their children.
Why didn't these ex-prisoner hate their captors, seeking revenge? Somehow they chose the "higher road" of reason and forgiveness instead of anger and lashing out, which is the first human response. Perhaps it was the role model of a humble, charismatic leader like Mandela working alongside them each day. Perhaps it was the unity and community created by their common cause in their common "home." Perhaps there is a power in the daily actions of forgiveness.
If these South Africans could all "turn the other cheek" as commanded by Jesus Christ, then there must be power there which liberates one from these human emotions. I am convinced now that we can all surely learn this lesson in our own lives, from their example. I hope I too can use this power of true forgiveness in my life for building a better country as well.
I was wrong in thinking I was prepared for this visit. I had visited Alcatraz Prison years ago, another island maximum security prison in California. Like Alcatraz, there were bleak concrete buildings topped with barbed wire, harsh solitary cells with only straw mats for beds and a small pot for toileting. But the prisoners, the guards, and the government were of a different breed.
Our black guide, Patrick, was a prisoner at Robben Island for l8 years. A colleague of Mandela's, he described the daily emotional abuse meeted out by the oppressive White Afrikaner prison staff to these Back and Asian political prisoners. Most of them had simply acted or spoken against the White government's harsh separatist policies, and were subsequently treated as subhumans on the island. Many were forced to work 8 hours per day in 90 degree temperatures, breaking stones in the lime quarry with no toilets or water. Other remained in isolation for day. Food consisted of gruel and rotten vegetables. Sentences lasted from 2 years to life.
But what surprised me was the overwhelming attitude of forgiveness expressed by all staff members. Our guard spoke of the sense of community among the prisoners, the common purpose of equality, and the forgiveness needed to build a "new South Africa." He now works alongside his former wardens at the prison.
Our bus driver assurerd us that all questions would be answered according to our "universal democratic rights." Our taxi driver, another survivor of apartheid, showed us photos of his home destroyed by the Afrikaaner government. "But," he said, "we must now forgive and move on to build a better South Africa." That same sentiment once again.
I wondered how these innocent survisors could all forgive their captors after years of such unwarranted abuse. Perhaps it was that shared purpose of equality. As the prisoners petitioned for their rights, conditions were improved one at a time, providing momentum for their cause. Perhaps it was their passion for a better life for their children. But South Africa really seems to be changing for the better. Their children now have equal opportunity to education.
Whatever the reason, I felt the power of true forgiveness from each of them. I thought about the people in my life who have wronged me and my own struggles to forgive them. My small hurts were nothing compared to the years of suffering for these innnocent men, working for simple dignity, a vote, and equal opportunities for their children.
Why didn't these ex-prisoner hate their captors, seeking revenge? Somehow they chose the "higher road" of reason and forgiveness instead of anger and lashing out, which is the first human response. Perhaps it was the role model of a humble, charismatic leader like Mandela working alongside them each day. Perhaps it was the unity and community created by their common cause in their common "home." Perhaps there is a power in the daily actions of forgiveness.
If these South Africans could all "turn the other cheek" as commanded by Jesus Christ, then there must be power there which liberates one from these human emotions. I am convinced now that we can all surely learn this lesson in our own lives, from their example. I hope I too can use this power of true forgiveness in my life for building a better country as well.
posted by Chuck and Gay Mitchell | 1:12 AM
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