No Future Without Forgiveness

A series of institutional hearings, “where representatives of the major social institutions came to describe how they perceived their relationship to apartheid” (218), helped Tutu understand the reasons that so many white South Africans ignored the system’s injustice. Racism was prevalent throughout all the major institutions of that society, including news organizations, faith communities, the legal system, and business sectors.

In newspapers, journalists described events from a white perspective, using terms that the government favored, such as “terrorists” rather than “freedom fighters” (218). When the government shut down newspapers that championed the anti-apartheid cause, other newspapers engaged in self-censorship to avoid that fate. The electronic media was worse, as the South African Broadcasting Corporation was “under the thumb” of the Brotherhood, which promoted Afrikaner interests. That corporation prohibited Black employees from looking at white women and threatened to sack or whip any who violated this rule.

Apartheid segregated faith communities, and the health sector also “organized itself along racial lines” (224), grossly discriminating against Black medical students and doctors. Some white doctors even worked with the police, advising them on torture methods. In law, the bar council did not allow Black people to become members until 1990. Virtually all judges during the period under scrutiny were white males who could not relate to the world in which Black people lived. Judges almost always took the police’s word over that of Black detainees as truth. Businesses took part in racial capitalism, using Black people confined to certain areas as a cheap source of labor. Consequently, “South Africa has the most glaring gap between rich and poor in the entire African continent” (228-29). All these sectors worked to reinforce a herd mentality among whites and rewarded conformity with the system.

Tutu next assesses the TRC’s work, judging it like “the curate’s egg—good in parts” (231). Acknowledging its weaknesses, Tutu laments its failure to attract the bulk of the white community’s participation, its inability to gain the Inkatha Freedom Party’s participation until late in the process, and the pitfalls of the reparation and rehabilitation process. Specifically, that process did not provide victims with long-term counseling, and the funds were too slow in coming. One major strength of the process was that many police officers came forward in the amnesty process and disclosed the truth. Unfortunately, the military—then the South African Defence Force (SADF)—did not cooperate with the commission.

As Tutu explains, SADF was a part of the “total strategy” (236) that former President P. W. Botha used to annihilate communism. The government propaganda machine tried to convince South Africans that others were out to destroy their way of life, highlighting disasters that had occurred in countries to its north. SADF involved itself in civil wars against liberation movements and engaged in a “policy of hot pursuit” (238), raiding bases and camps it deemed terrorist in other states. The government forced these states to refuse refuge to South African exiles working for liberation from apartheid. According to a report, SADF actions from 1980 through 1988 resulted in the deaths of 1.5 million people and 4 million refugees. Moreover, the strategy led to the militarization of policing in South Africa. An army aims to kill and destroy its enemies. This language made its way into policing, with orders from the top to assassinate all opponents: “The state entered the realm of criminality” (243). It equated resistance to apartheid with communism.

When evidence emerged that President Botha had given the orders in a bombing, TRC deputy chair Boraine suggested that Tutu visit the former president, now retired. In his few previous meetings with Botha, Tutu had never won concessions from the staunch apartheid supporter. This time, the meeting was friendly, and Botha agreed to provide written answers to the TRC’s questions. After 10 months, he completed the questions, but more evidence had emerged by then. The TRC wanted to meet with him, but he refused. When the TRC issued a subpoena, he still did not come, so he was arraigned. At the court hearing, Tutu appealed to him, asking him to simply say that he was sorry for pain that the policies of his government had caused. He refused. A “pathetic figure” (250), Botha wanted no part of the reconciliation process. While his successor, de Klerk, helped pave the way for the transfer of power, he missed an opportunity to become a great leader by trying to undermine Mandela and by qualifying his apologies for apartheid.

Tutu closes the chapter by emphasizing the powerful forces, the pervasiveness of racism, that exerted an influence on people. It was more a wonder that some white people challenged it than that most accepted it. Acknowledging the power of conditioning, Tutu humbly writes, “There but for the grace of God go I” (253).

After receiving much attention in the international press for the reconciliation process, Tutu traveled to several other countries that had histories of hostility. In Rwanda, where Tutsis had been the victims of genocide at the hands of Hutus, Tutu called for restorative justice. A cycle of “reprisal and counterreprisal that had characterized their national history had to be broken” (260). He encouraged those working for peace in Northern Ireland to continue their efforts despite setbacks.

Given his Christian faith, Tutu believes that “cosmic movement toward unity, toward reconciliation” (263), is God’s intention. Despite the alienation and disharmony in the world, this movement toward unity will eventually prevail. Forgiveness is a necessary part of achieving such unity. An arduous process that exposes all the pain, it requires the wrongdoer’s humility and the victim’s courage. It does not ask people to forget the evil but to empathize with the perpetrator. In Tutu’s view, forgiveness liberates the victim and allows for future relationships.

When Tutu visited Israel in 1989, before the TRC’s work, his message of forgiveness after visiting a Holocaust museum was not well received. Ten years later, after his TRC work, he received a warm welcome. However, philosophical disagreements persisted about forgiving Nazi crimes and the current Palestinian situation. Tutu argues that it is up to the living to forgive crimes against those in the past; only the current generation can do that. Otherwise, who could grant forgiveness for the sins of South Africa’s racist past, which predated 1948 by hundreds of years? Peace would be possible everywhere if “today’s adversaries were to imagine themselves becoming friends” (281).

Tutu notes that South Africa, where a government brutally oppressed Black people, is the most unlikely place for reconciliation to have worked—but it did. That should give hope to oppressed people everywhere. He is careful to stipulate, though, that the continued success of reconciliation will require material changes in the lives of people whom the apartheid government kept in poverty. No real reconciliation occurs if someone steals a pen, Tutu explains, and then apologizes but keeps the pen.

Tutu notes the incredible psychological toll on the TRC’s members. A mental health worker recommended at the outset that they take breaks, spend time with family, exercise, and have a spiritual routine. Despite doing these things, they were “shattered at what we heard and we did frequently break down or were on the verge of it” (286). Helping heal the nation was a great but costly privilege. Tutu learned of a prostate cancer diagnosis during TRC meetings as well. He describes the commissioners as “wounded healers” (287).