I’m a Methodist, I’ve always been a Methodist

In March 1982, after 18 years on Robben Island, Nelson Mandela was transferred to Pollsmoor Prison in Cape Town. He was accompanied by fellow Rivonia prisoners Walter Sisulu, Raymond Mhlaba and Andrew Mlangeni. Ahmed Kathrada would join the group in October.

Having lived on Robben Island for so long, Mandela found it difficult to leave the prison. He had forged a life for himself there, even if it was devoid of the experiences that people in regular society take for granted. Prison life had given Mandela a sense of structure and stability, and it was hard for him to let go of that in the face of a new, unknown situation.

As he set foot on the ferry that would take him back to Cape Town, he felt overwhelmed by the knowledge that he was leaving the prison that had become his home: “I looked back at the island as the light was fading, not knowing whether I would ever see it again. A man can get used to anything, and I had grown used to Robben Island.”

But now Mandela, nearly 64 years old, would have to acclimatise to much-improved conditions at Polls-moor Prison. From 1984 onwards, unlike on Robben Island, he was allowed more frequent visits from his family.

On the religious side though, matters deteriorated somewhat. On Robben Island, Mandela had been able to meet and converse with a variety of religious leaders from all kinds of faiths. At Pollsmoor prisoners could only have contact with ministers from their own religion or church.

Mandela described this as “a source of great disappointment” to him. He was no longer able to witness firsthand the way people of other faiths carried out their worship, which had always been an enriching learning experience for him.

One of the Christian ministers who served Mandela at Pollsmoor was Harry Wiggett, an Anglican priest. Wiggett had first met Mandela in 1968 when he was a young deacon employed to accompany the ageing Father Alan Hughes to Robben Island. Wiggett did this job for a few months and had the opportunity to observe how skilfully Hughes dealt with the prisoners under his care, and the effort he put into motivating them to continue looking towards the future.

When Wiggett found out that a few of those prisoners were now in a prison situated in his parish of Bergvliet, he felt a responsibility to take up Father Hughes’s former position as spiritual counsellor to these men. His knowledge of who they were and how much they had already contributed to the struggle against apartheid further heightened his sense of duty.

So when, in 1982, Wiggett received a phone call from Pollsmoor’s commanding officer, Brigadier Fred Munro, asking him to minister to the prison’s political inmates, he jumped at the opportunity.

On his first morning on the job, Wiggett met with Mandela, Sisulu, Mhlaba, Kathrada and Mlangeni. Mandela, who had not seen Wiggett for almost 20 years, surprised him by asking after his wife, Jean, and their children, Michael and David.

The prisoners attended Wiggett’s services where he administered Holy Communion as often as they could. A prison warder, usually Christo Brand – who had worked on Robben Island when the Rivonia triallists were imprisoned there – sat in on the services to make sure Wiggett, considered subversive because he was part of the Engelse kerk, stuck to religious subject matter during his sermons.

Brand also had to ensure the prisoners did not misbehave, either by asking ministers to carry messages for them or by discussing anything besides religion with the ministers.

Wiggett’s instruction book from Pollsmoor stated that he was not allowed to bring any alcohol into the prison, but his superior in the Anglican Church, Archbishop Philip Russell, insisted that Wiggett take wine in order to properly administer the sacrament of Holy Communion.

This caused him some anxiety during his first service when Brand, at Mandela’s insistence, participated. Wiggett remembers the occasion: “ said to Brand who was sitting right next to me... ‘Are you a Christian?’”

When Brand replied that he was, Mandela countered, “Now look, Brand, if you’re a Christian, you must take off your cap and you must join us. This is a Christian service.”

Brand “had no option”, in Wiggett’s words, but to listen to the prisoner he had been tasked with watching over. To Wiggett, this occasion was proof of Mandela’s profound spirituality – of his capacity to see beyond the surface appearance or behaviour of any person and to recognise within them an individual who possessed beliefs and ideas just as he did.

Wiggett states that even though he was a religious servant, he had not taken this into consideration when he had met the warder: “I had branded Brand. He was NGK, he was Dutch Reformed, he was a nationalist, he was right-wing, he was irrelevant. But not to Nelson. , he was a person as much in need of the grace and love of God as anyone else, and especially when we were celebrating Jesus and the death of Jesus... I think it was one of the most important life-changing spiritual experiences that I’ve undergone. Here the priest had already judged the other man, excluded him, which our churches do. We are very exclusive, and the prisoner, who is a danger to everyone, is a liberator, and this is in 1982.”

But now Wiggett had to worry about what would happen when Brand discovered that real wine was being served during the sacrament. However, when Brand’s turn came to drink from the chalice holding the wine, nothing happened; the service continued as usual.

Mandela had pointed out to Brand that he was just like the other prisoners attending the service – a Christian – and so he behaved as such, showing the necessary respect for the sacraments in which he was participating.

Wiggett and Mandela became good friends at Pollsmoor and Wiggett was able to learn about and contribute to the other man’s spiritual growth. The strength of Mandela’s spiritual beliefs made such an impression on Wiggett that, in 1985, when this aspect of the future president’s character was put under fire in the media, Wiggett rose to Mandela’s defence.

The year 1985 was a turbulent one. South Africa was shaken by numerous anti-government demonstrations, loud calls to free Mandela and pressures from outside the country for the government to effect political change. In January, the government had offered to release Mandela from prison on condition that he publicly denounce the use of violence in the struggle. But Mandela naturally rejected what was clearly an attempt by the state to make him its puppet.

In July, President PW Botha declared a state of emergency that allowed for the arbitrary detention without trial of thousands of people and increased police brutality.

And yet, even in the face of all of this opposition, the apartheid government continued to claim that Mandela was a man of violence, a communist and a non-believer.

Although determined to stay true to the ANC and his own principles, it was difficult for Mandela to express to the public what he truly believed while he was locked up in Pollsmoor. And as he was restricted from giving interviews to the media, he had become easy prey for people seeking to promote their own political agendas, and who were happy to take advantage of the fact that he could not defend himself in public.

This was nowhere better illustrated than in August 1985, when President Botha gave special permission to two American journalists from the Washington Times, John Lofton and Cal Thomas, to interview Mandela.

Fred Munro, who was present at the interview, recalls Mandela telling the Americans that there was “no alternative to taking up arms” in the struggle against apartheid.

He remembers that they also interrogated Mandela about his religious beliefs, and accused him of being a communist. Eventually, Munro says, Mandela announced to the journalists, “I am a Methodist. I’ve always been a Methodist.”

The statement came as a surprise to his prison warders, who had not known what Mandela’s religious beliefs were before that moment.

While on Robben Island, Christo Brand had been aware of Mandela’s insistence that other inmates interact with ministers as much as possible, but he had not realised that this was because of any spiritual belief on Mandela’s part.

Nevertheless, when Mandela’s interview was published overseas in the Washington Times, it was riddled with distortions about his religious and political beliefs, and he had no recourse to set the record straight as very few people in South Africa could publicly speak up for him.

Although Munro was present during the interview, prison regulations forbade him from speaking to the media about his charges behind bars.

Wiggett was first alerted to the accusations being thrown at Mandela by the Washington Times when Archbishop Russell told him to read the article in the local Sunday Times on August 25 1985.

As Wiggett read the article, he found himself becoming more and more outraged at the claims being made about the man he had been ministering to for three years.

He questioned the integrity of the journalists, especially after he recognised one of them, Cal Thomas, as a member of Reverend Jerry Falwell’s Moral Majority organisation.

Falwell was an American Southern Baptist who held very conservative views on a number of subjects, including homosexuality, and who had also opposed sanctions against apartheid South Africa.

“I read this,” Wiggett says of the article, “and I think: ‘Good Lord, this is first of all peculiar that one of Jerry Falwell’s men should get in and interview Nelson Mandela.’ I thought that sounds phony to start with.”

Wiggett called Archbishop Russell, who ordered him to immediately report to his official residence in Bishopscourt. When the archbishop asked Wiggett for his impressions of the article, Wiggett responded, “It’s not right. This is not the Nelson I’m meeting with. It might have been before he went to prison. But we all grow, we all develop. We all change our viewpoints.”

For three years, Wiggett had studied scripture with Mandela and ministered to him, and had come to know Mandela as a gentle and contemplative man – an aspect of the politician’s character that many people, even some who had known him for most of his life, did not know existed.

Archbishop Russell asked Wiggett if he would write a response to the article for the Sunday Times, refuting the American journalists’ allegations.

Wiggett was at first hesitant because Pollsmoor expressly forbade priests who ministered at the prison from speaking about their religious charges to the media. He quickly changed his mind, however, when he realised that by keeping quiet about what he knew of Mandela he would be allowing untruths to proliferate.

His reply to Thomas and Lofton’s article appeared a week later, on September 1, in the Sunday Times. In his response, Wiggett explained what it was like to minister to the political prisoner: “It has been my privilege to do so, and during that time Mr Mandela has welcomed me as a Christian priest with obvious joy and sincerity and has received Holy Communion regularly.”

Given what he knew of Mandela, he wrote that he found it hard to believe he was a communist.

It was not too long before Wiggett received a phone call demanding that he report to Pollsmoor. When Wiggett arrived, he was subjected to a verbal attack by the enraged chaplain general of the South African Prison Services, Major General AC Sephton, who berated him for disobeying prison regulations before suspending him.

The Spiritual Mandela (Zebra Press: 2016) is available at bookstores nationwide. A second extract will run in the Dispatch on Tuesday

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