The Book of Joy

were. Today when people go and they see his cell, there’s a bed. They
didn’t have a bed. They were sleeping on the floor, no mattress, just a
thin little thing.” The Archbishop was pinching his thumb and forefinger
to emphasize the discomfort, the pain, and the suffering that he endured,
even in sleep.
“These were sophisticated, educated people. What do they do? What
are they made to do? They are made to go and dig in a quarry. And they
are wearing very inadequate clothing. Nelson Mandela and all of them
wore shorts, even in winter. They were made to do almost senseless work,
breaking rocks and sewing post office bags. He was a highly qualified
lawyer. There he’s sitting and sewing.”
During a visit to Robben Island with Ahmed Kathrada, one of
Mandela’s colleagues and fellow prisoners, he showed us in the cafeteria
the different rations that were given to the prisoners—based on their race
—a daily reminder of the obsessive racial fascism that they were
fighting: “Six ounces of meat for coloreds/Asiatics and five ounces for
Bantus (blacks); one ounce of jam or syrup for coloreds/Asiatics and
none for Bantus.”
“I mean, it must have frustrated him to no end, made him very, very
angry. God was good and said, You’re going to stay here twenty-seven
years. And after those twenty-seven years he emerges on the other side as
someone of immense magnanimity, because in an extraordinary way his
suffering helped to grow him. Where they thought it was going to break
him, it helped him. It helped him to see the point of view of the other.
Twenty-seven years later, he comes out kind, caring, ready to trust his
erstwhile enemy.”
“So how did he do it?” I asked. “I mean, why do you think he was able
to see his suffering as ennobling rather than embittering?”
“He didn’t see it. It happened.”
“So why did it happen for him? Because for others it has not.”
“Yes, of course, some people it would embitter.” The Archbishop had
once explained to me that suffering can either embitter us or ennoble us
and that the difference lies in whether we are able to find meaning in our
suffering. Without meaning, when suffering seems senseless, we can