Trc faith Communities Hearings Report

5. Reflections on the process and recommendations for the future

5.1 Reflections on the process

Our account of what the faith communities thought of the process opens up space for critique and evaluation of the process of getting the faith communities together.

5.1.1 Omissions

A number of questions remain--gaps in the story which need to be filled in. A short resume would include religious broadcasting and media and its role in state-propaganda; theological training institutions and their role in helping produce an intelligentsia (many of whom are now serving in government), or alternately in training ministers that would become agents or legitimators of apartheid at a congregational level.

The role of theology and its relation to ideology was given some space at the hearings, with the ICT invited to speak on the theology of liberation. TEASA spoke briefly of the way evangelical theology left itself open to legitimating state ideology. The DRC, CESA and IFCC spoke briefly of how liberation theology was understood in their churches. Much more analytical work, though, remains to be done.

The most serious omission, and we have referred to it previously, is that of what may be called “right wing groups” and their operations. There was at least one reference at the hearings (by Des Hoffmeister) to churches being used as fronts for such groups, but nothing was received from any such groups. Nor was anything received from the churches--such as the Congregational Church of South Africa--that actively supported right wing groups.

Two groups in particular, the Gospel Defence League and Frontline Fellowship,³⁰⁴ were instrumental in seeking to undermine the credibility of churches, organisations and individuals who were well-known or leading opponents of apartheid. These are widely believed to have received funding from the apartheid government’s covert operations budget. Not only did they seek to discredit churches and their leadership in various ways, not least through the damaging of personal reputations, but their actions also led to state action against people and institutions. There was a widespread programme and concerted attempt by such groups to undermine the role of anti-apartheid churches in South Africa. It was indeed sadly ironic that this group was not addressed by the TRC, while those churches and individuals which were their victims (including persons such as Dr Beyers Naudé) confessed their failures.

Not only were right wing groups active within the borders of South Africa; they were also active in the Frontline states--sometimes acting with overseas conservative Christian partners.³⁰⁵ Similar groups were also active in other faiths, including Islam.³⁰⁶ The picture of the role of faith communities in South Africa’s past is simply not complete without an accounting of (and from) such groups.

The omission of other religious groups from the process is also serious. This may be partly due to the nature of some faith communities, such as Brethren churches, lacking centralised structures and being more local in character. Though we recognise that the Commission made some effort to get them on board, the fact that Lutherans were not represented at the hearings is a serious problem given the history of Lutheranism in South Africa.³⁰⁷ Also missing were other Pentecostal groups besides the AFM, such as the Assemblies of God. The way the Muslim community was dealt with will be noted in the next section.

5.1.2 Christian domination

The symbols of the TRC in general are often alienating to those who do not share Christian convictions, and sometimes strongly so. The fact that these particular hearings were held in a church with Christian symbols prominently displayed marginalised representatives of other faiths--as Faried Esack pointed out. Not only was the panel dominated by Christians,³⁰⁸ it was dominated by a particular brand of Christianity. The hearings had an “in-house” feel to them, with the Chairperson being addressed by ecumenical leaders as a colleague and a friend. Indeed, Archbishop Ntongana said in his presentation that when he saw the panel, he thought he was in Khotso House (the headquarters of the SACC). Prof. Meiring was the only member on the dias that was not an SACC associate or former staff. This inevitably meant that the questions reflected a certain understanding of the role of religion (Christianity) in society. But the powerful presence of Archbishop Tutu, as Esack pointed out, also meant that the understanding of reconciliation the hearings worked with was coloured by his own personality. The prioritising of reconciliation over truth and justice was evident in the panel’s weak response to the Dutch Reformed Church representation, where it seemed as if the DRC’s attendance at the hearings was sufficient to confirm them on the path to reconciliation.

As stated in the Introduction above, the Commission originally envisioned a “churches” conference and only later moved to a “faith communities” hearing idea. And it seemed that the inclusion of groups outside the Christian faith was an afterthought. The selection of representatives, particularly from the Muslim community, displayed a lack of insight about the diversity within faith communities outside of Christianity.³⁰⁹ No one person or organisation can represent “the Muslim community” because (like “the Christian community”) such an entity exists only as an abstraction and is easily open to manipulation by people who identify the “true” community with their particular expression of it (see section 5.2.1). “Muslims”, like Christians, hold a variety of opinions which reflect economic, ethnic, class and other dynamics in their particular communities.

The result of all this was that, added to the overwhelmingly Christian ethos of the hearings, few Muslims will be able to “own” the process.

5.2 Reflections on the submissions

5.2.1 Contested identities

The Truth and Reconciliation Commission has as its goal the reconstruction of “what happened”, an account of the past through the hearing of stories and confessions. This is a great challenge, given the different symbolic universes that South Africans live in, with their different legitimating structures. The upholding of these symbolic universes is largely the province of faith and faith communities.

Faith communities, as exhibited in the submissions and presentations, are (and always have been) agents in the ongoing contestation of social and cultural life. But these communities, their histories and their identities are themselves contested--particularly in a time of transition. The Jamiatul Ulama Transvaal claimed to have upheld the values of Islam against apartheid, while the Muslim Youth Movement in a separate submission protested against the JUT’s speaking for Muslims. Faried Esack’s submission claimed that not only the Ulamas, but the Muslim leadership in general failed to adequately oppose apartheid. Another Ulama, the Majlisul, claimed that Esack was “a non-Muslim” and had no right to speak for the Muslim community.³¹⁰ Amongst Christians, and even within the same Christian tradition, communities struggled to come to a common understanding of the past. Denominations that split over apartheid issues, such as the Baptist Convention and Union, are unable to agree on “what happened” and (at least the BCSA says this) cannot come near reunification (which both want). The same is true especially of the DRC family. We have already spoken of the DRC’s inability to incorporate the pain of its former “daughter” (now “sister”) churches into its narrative. Until it can do this, institutional reunification is impossible--as was evident from both the URCSA and BK submissions.

5.2.2 Shifting languages

In section 3.2 we noted briefly the ambiguity of language, especially around terms such as “oppressor”, “victim”, and “engagement”. These can mean different things to different groups. But the very fact that different faith communities, representing a spectrum from conservative to radical, Christian to Muslim, could share a common language is notable. The terms of understanding the past were in the bipolar “struggle” discourse of oppressed/oppressor, victim/perpetrator, guilt/innocence. Even groups which, during the apartheid years, would not have used this language had appropriated it.³¹¹ There seemed to be a common roll of heroes, with references at the hearings, both celebratory and apologetic, to the Chairperson. It seems that the ethos of the Commission (or is it that of the “New South Africa”?) has had a profound effect upon at least the language within which faith communities understand themselves.

The exception to this rule was the ZCC and (to a lesser extent) the amaNazaretha. Here a different discourse, a different language, a different rhetoric was in place. This was the rhetoric of identity, of communal narrative, which was placed alongside the story of South Africa during the apartheid years.³¹² And yet it would not be right to call it “disengaged”. Indeed it is arguable that the appearance of Bishop Legkanyane was aimed at changing or subverting the terms of engagement--at least for that part of the hearings.³¹³

Could it be that faith communities are implicitly on their way to forging a new common history?³¹⁴ Such a common history would be good and yet problematic. It would be good in that a shared understanding of the past is an important prerequisite to reconciliation, and a shared language about the past is an important step along those lines. Indeed this is goal of the Commission, though in tension perhaps with its giving space for particular voices to speak.

But such language needs also to be transcended by a new language of memory, both shared and individual. Shared memory is necessary because nation-building requires it. But shared memory in the service of nation-building can also do violence to the particular memories of suffering contained within communities and persons. A “grand narrative” of struggle (which can easily erase or overlook ambiguities) in which the terms are easily and unambiguously defined (what were you--a victim or a perpetrator?) needs to be relativised by particular memories (which are not reducible simply to either term), lest it become a new hegemony. This is as true of faith communities as it is of the larger society. Indeed one of the contributions faith communities can make is as sites where particular memories can be shared and stored (see our recommendations below).

Another problem contained within oppositional language is an either-or relation to the state: either a community was/is in a relation of “legitimisation” to the state, or it was/is in a relation of “opposition” to the state. While arguably the struggle is not over, and this language of either-or will continue to be appropriate as long as there are poor in the land, it needs to be supplemented by a new language appropriate to the new terms of engagement between faith communities and the state. Perhaps the term “critical solidarity”, used by the SACC, is helpful. But the meaning (or meanings) of that term need to be more fully spelt out.

5.2.3 Assessing the submissions

As already stated, some of the submissions give great detail about the particular faith community’s involvement in past oppression. Interestingly, the groups with the largest black constituency and leadership, the AICs, took the opportunity of addressing the commission as an opportunity to present their distinctive faith, rather than account for their involvement in past abuses or opposition. The communities which went into the most detail about the past were the ecumenical Protestant churches, as well as the Catholic church. In the case of the former it is not surprising, as Protestantism was the faith of most of the powerful in the shaping of South Africa.³¹⁵ But within Protestantism there are strong traditions of prophetic dissent, as well as state support. It is not surprising that Protestant Christianity understood itself as most active in opposing apartheid, as well as in giving tacit support to the state.

Protestant churches went into great detail about their written and spoken protests but (evidenced in the way that our discussion “thinned out” considerably as it moved from protest to declarations of solidarity with liberation movements) they struggled with translating protest into action. The particular style of protest amongst Protestant churches reflects their ambiguous status within South Africa. A characterisation written in 1988 is broadly applicable:

Some individuals within the churches saw a vision beyond captivity, and Christian groups outside of the ecclesial structures rebelled against an ever-encroaching state tyranny. The institutional churches were left to protest without resistance.³¹⁶

Nevertheless, it must be stated that Protestant and Catholic Christianity at the hearings displayed self-criticism in confessing their complicity with the former regime, as well as admitting that their voice of protest was not loud or demanding enough.³¹⁷ While they did not go as far as to say that their manner of protest may have given a semblance of legitimacy to a regime widely regarded in the rest of the world as “intolerant”,³¹⁸ they were generally forthright in owning up to the more obvious kinds of complicity, such as participation in state structures. This was especially significant in the case of churches such as the UCCSA, whose overwhelmingly black membership meant that they were a church of victims, yet who readily admitted their failures and compromises.

An exception to the “protest” involvement of Protestant churches is the Dutch Reformed Church which, as was noted above, saw prophetic activity as only within the context of its privileged relation with the state.³¹⁹ To its credit, though, it was at least able to admit to that relation, although it is difficult to characterise as “prophetic” a community that was one of the very pillars of apartheid (along with the National Party and the Afrikaner Broederbond). Indeed, in its Journey document it acknowledged that it had become part of the government’s propaganda machine. The role of the DRC was more in keeping the wheels on the apartheid machine rather than in derailing it. Its steadfast refusal to condemn apartheid outright--standing alone within its ecumenical Reformed tradition and virtually alone amongst other Christian faith communities--makes many doubt whether it really has allowed itself to be confronted by the truth of its past. Certainly in its own eyes it is penitent, and its identity as a new Dutch Reformed Church is in line with the “new South Africa” identity of institutions like the NP and the new Broederbond. But a community’s self understanding must allow itself to be confronted with the pain of those communities it oppressed--and this is the challenge of the TRC, not only for the DRC but for all faith communities. Is the DRC is willing to integrate the pain of the former “daughter churches” into its own narrative, its own “journey”? At the hearings the DRC’s insistence on being ready to “move ahead into the future” contrasted sharply with the Uniting Reformed Church’s claims that the DRC continued to block efforts at reunification of the churches separated by apartheid. Indeed, the URCSA’s critique of the DRC points out a danger that all churches need to take account of: an enthusiastic embracing of a “new” ecclesial identity, with a new language and a new legitimacy, may function as a shield against real transformation--in this case against removing those barriers erected by “church apartheid”. At any rate, the acid test for the DRC will be the reunification and integration into a United Reformed Church.

We have already observed the interesting change of language on the part of the churches which formerly considered themselves “apolitical”. The very recognition that “the authority of the Bible” idea that they held so dearly was subject to ideological manipulation--as expressed in the CESA submission--is (hopefully) a sign of future vigilance and self-criticism. Also positive was the recognition that being “apolitical” was impossible, and was in effect a vote for the status quo, which was to (wittingly or not) side with the “oppressor” against the “oppressed”. They recognised that they supported the former regime, even while at the time professing neutrality. And they recognised that, though chastened, they have a role to play in reconstruction. The question (especially for the more theologically conservative communities) is whether they understand the theological implications of the admissions and confessions they have made, whether they will be able to find a language for integrating these newly articulated convictions into their other identities and agendas. Their old theological wineskins may prove unable to hold the new wine of reconciliation and transformation. Here the help of other churches, especially the ecumenical churches, will be invaluable.

There is, however, a need for a self-critique of the theology of churches which described themselves as “baffled, stunned and confused” at the revelations of the Commission about human rights abuses, some of which involved their members.³²⁰ It is strange that persons in such communities were surprised at what is being exposed by the TRC, especially in the case of the AFM (one of whose prominent leaders, Frank Chikane, was a victim). Members of churches and other faith communities which were either involved in the anti-apartheid movement or were subject to state repression were not surprised at all. The question must be asked, why? What was it that did not permit members of more conservative communities, which preached “the dangers of ideology” and of “reading scriptures politically”, to see what to others was so plain? It is not enough to simply say “we were duped” by propaganda, as certain conditions must exist before even the most subtle propaganda is believed. Again, the theological emphases of such communities need careful reconsideration, if the past is not to be repeated.

5.2.4 Reservations

When we speak of “the churches” or particular “faith communities” being ready or not ready to confront the past, we again encounter the problem of precisely who is doing the speaking and for whom; and whose past is being confronted. When the leadership of denominations states a willingness to own the past and their role in it, this may or may not embrace all the clergy (or local leadership), let alone individual members. This was borne out in Nico Smith’s letter of confession--a letter some might judge relatively mild in tone--in which Pastors were given the opportunity of confessing complicity in lending succour to the agents of apartheid in congregations, and in failing to raise the awareness of their other members. However we judge the value of such a thing in scientifically appraising the mood of people, the fact that Smith sent out 12,000 copies and published it in newspapers across the country and, after six months, only 396 signatures were returned may indicate that confession and owning the past is not a priority at local levels. If we add the possibility that churches and communities at denominational levels may make confession for any number of reasons (not only out of a sense of guilt or remorse), we have little conclusive proof that the faith communities--and especially the churches--are serious in their commitments to owning the past and moving ahead into the future. The only way we will know how “sincere” the confessions were is to observe the actions of communities in the years to come. After all, if there is one lesson from observing faith communities in South African history (as many of them admitted) it is that words are easy and accomplish little when not backed up with action.

It would be a mistake, however, to simply adopt a “wait and see” attitude on the sincerity of the faith communities. The TRC process needs to be taken down to denominational structures on a national, regional and local level as a matter of extreme urgency and importance.

Faith communities made a number of commitments both to embodying reconciliation and involvement in the wider public. The problem is that it is easy to make promises in a public forum such as the TRC--where no-one wants to be left out. It is much more difficult to follow them through. (See also our comments above about representation). And even more so is it difficult to hold communities accountable. Precisely who will hold them accountable? The fact that they do not speak for all their members (or even perhaps all their leaders) means not only that there will be stumbling blocks, but that their own constituents will not be able to hold them accountable.

5.2.5 A note on gender oppression

It was unfortunate that a separate submission had to take place from a group representing women in religion--especially in light of the role of women in struggle demonstrated by the early testimonies to the Commission. Women and women’s groups played a key role in supporting opponents of human rights abuses, including in churches and Mosques. Yet they were overwhelmingly relegated to secondary status in those communities.³²¹ Women bore the brunt of migrant labour systems and forced removals. Indeed, as committee member Seroke observed on the second day of the hearings, most of the victims who have come forth to testify before the Commission are women, and most of those testify not of their own suffering, but of the suffering of male relatives.

The speakers at the faith community hearings were mostly male.³²² There was little mention of women as victims of oppression and abuse in the submissions of the faith communities, and as little of their agency in opposing apartheid.³²³ While this may have been a result of not defining the parameters of “human rights abuses” to include gender oppression, it nonetheless stands as an indictment of the faith communities that for the most part they continue to see racial, economic and gender oppression as separate categories.

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So what are we left with? Are the faith communities “leavened through” with repentance, as their submissions and presentations would indicate? Or are their spokespersons (overwhelmingly spokesmen) merely voicing once again the mood of the powerful in society (the comparison between the faith communities’ understanding of reconciliation and that reflected in the public debate invites itself)? We may say that only time will tell. But the needs of the present (and the short-term life of the TRC) demand more immediate actions.

5.3 Recommendations

The legacy of a complicit past is still with the faith communities, and dealing with their own stories of compromise is crucial to them becoming the agents of social change they expressed desire to be. This report wishes to speak to this need, outlining actions and commitments which are necessary to the healing process. We however leave it up to local communities to concretise these actions around their own specific needs. As the lion’s share of responsibility amongst faith communities for the past lies with Christian churches, we shall have them specifically in mind, although some of the recommendations are more broadly applicable.

(1) We recommend, in accordance with the submissions of ICT and MJC, that faith communities initiate their own processes of healing.³²⁴ This can be done at local church, parish, Mosque, synagogue, temple or kraal levels. It can be done at interfaith levels, with different communities in the same area participating. It can be done at institutional or denominational levels. It can be done employing the language and symbols of particular traditions (c.f. the Salvation Army’s submission which spoke of the “testimony meeting”). We furthermore urge that this be initiated before the year 2000. Not only does this year have a tremendous symbolic importance as the dawn of a new millennium (and the possibility of a fresh start), some groups have declared it an international Jubilee year. In the Jewish and Christian traditions, the year of Jubilee is a year where debts are cancelled, land is returned and equalisation of resources takes place. What better way to celebrate it in the churches than with the initiation of a process of healing.³²⁵

(2) We recommend, also, that this process of healing go beyond a handshake and a hug (c.f. the AFM presentation at the hearings) to address the deep pain that the wounds of the past have caused--not only at the level of race relations, but in the economy, within families, within institutions, and especially in issues relating to gender. Apartheid was “a total strategy” that cut into all areas of life. In their legitimisation of it, faith communities infected all areas of the lives of their members. Any process of cleansing and healing must also have the character of a total strategy.

(3) The inter-institutional dimension of healing is very important. Healing institutional and denominational splits is more than simply an expression of doctrinal unity; it is the acid test for commitment to socio-economic transformation. We urge that such unity talks as are going on now be brought to a positive conclusion, and that especially the Christian church no longer be a reflection of society’s economic divisions, but rather a model of a new society. We wish particularly to support the processes of unity involving the DRC and the URCSA, the PCSA and the RPC, and the BUSA and the BCSA.

(4) The question of reparations is a difficult one, especially with limited state resources. As noted several times, many faith communities suffered the loss of buildings and resources under apartheid while many others, directly or indirectly, were beneficiaries. One way that the faith communities themselves could demonstrate their commitment to healing in a concrete way, and to create a model for other institutions to follow, would be to for the more well-off to set up a fund to help redress the debts incurred by their sister churches, temples and mosques that suffered from having to relocate. We recommend that faith communities, in considering what they can do to facilitate healing, consider this step and have as a goal the eradication of this debt by the year 2000--the year of Jubilee.

(5) We recommend that faith communities allow space for the expression, the articulation of pain and lament.³²⁶ Lamentation is a process that finds resonance in many faith traditions. It is not something that is easily done in political forums. It needs smaller, safer spaces, spaces of trust. Faith communities can be such spaces. Lament can be made for very specific losses (a son, a place like District Six, personal failure). It can be personal or communal. It is capable of being ritualised and therefore integrated into the discourse of faith communities.

One way that lamentation could be ritualised is in the construction and use of permanent monuments. Vaults could be provided therein for people who see themselves as victims, as perpetrators, or as guilty bystanders to tell their stories, to contribute mementoes as well as being memorials to those who perished as a result of the policies of the past. The Holocaust Memorials in Jerusalem and Washington DC is an example of such a place. Another way that individuals could participate would be to sign the Register of Reconciliation in regional TRC offices--something that faith communities could sponsor or facilitate, perhaps in the form of a Book of Lament in which the necessary narratives of members could be recorded for the future.

(6) How can faith communities, with their different kinds and sources of authority, be held accountable for what they have committed themselves to? We recommend that forums or structures be created for the specific purpose of tracking healing processes in faith communities. One structure that could be created would be an annual or biannual event, like the Kirchentag in Germany, where all faith communities could be invited. Here comparative notes could be shared on the processes of healing in the communities. It would also be an opportunity for cross-fertilisation and debate. But even more, it would be a chance for a celebration of the hope of healing.

(7) Finally, recognising both President Mandela’s and deputy President Mbeki’s call to religious leaders to take the lead in the construction of new values for society as a whole, we also urge the state for its part to protect the particular laws and values of different communities, especially those previously disadvantaged by Christian nationalist ideology, to encourage a healthy pluralism that supports the common good.