T was difficult to believe that we were climbing up a hill where once stood a notorious prison where unimaginable indignities and barbarities were heaped on the prisoners among whom were two of the 20th century’s greatest political figures — Mahatma Gandhi and Nelson Mandela. Known as Section 4 Prison in Johannesburg, it was home to thousands of hapless blacks who fell on the wrong side of the law or those whom the apartheid regime found inconvenient to be allowed to remain outside prison. We, a group of journalists, were there to witness Prime Minister Manmohan Singh inaugurating a portion of the jail converted into a museum on the occasion of the 137th birth anniversary of the Father of the Nation. The Constitution Hill, as the Old Fort is now known, has undergone a metamorphosis and it is today the seat of the Supreme Court of South Africa where 11 judges hold court, guided as they are solely by the Constitution of the country. They no longer have to look back over their shoulders to check whether Big Brother is watching them or to ascertain the colour of the accused before pronouncing their verdict.
The court is housed in a magnificent building, which is full of symbolism of the trials and tribulations South Africa underwent before the people could breathe the air of freedom. The modern structure has bricks from the old prison and its massive wooden gates have the articles of the Bill of Rights engraved in the 11 official languages and the sign language. It was Indian architect Charles Correa who headed the committee that selected the final design of the court complex. A weaving of the banyan tree by his wife and eminent artist Monika Correa is a permanent exhibit in the court.
All the grandeur of the location and the greatness of the imagination that went into its construction aside, the judicial chamber is unique in that the highest judicial authority in the country sits in great simplicity. A part of the prison that is still kept in its pristine form is a constant reminder to the custodians of law and order of the sufferings people like Gandhi, Mandela, Albert Luthuli and Robert Sabukwe underwent to ensure that every South African — whether white or black or Indian — became entitled to equal rights.
It was a humbling experience to enter the prison which was mainly meant for blacks and which functioned till 1983. The area where visitors used to meet the prisoners at a particular time on a particular day of the week is what has been converted into a permanent museum for “Gandhi: A Prisoner of Conscience”.
Records show that while Mandela served only a short single term in Section 4 Prison, Gandhi was incarcerated here at least four times. A small prison hall depicts photographs of some of those who were locked up in it and they include Gandhi and some of the greats of the South African freedom struggle.
An eerie feeling grips you as you reconcile yourself to the fact that Gandhi had no greater company than pickpockets, rapists, petty thieves, pimps and murderers in this jail. In an adjoining room, which is almost dark even when the sun is bright, the condition in which the prisoners lived is depicted with the use of dummies. They slept on the floor barely clad. Worse, the prisoners did not enjoy any privacy even when they defecated. The toilet is located in the middle of the prison compound and is almost open. Nothing was kept from the view of those who manned the watchtowers.
This is what Molefe Pheto, a political prisoner, had to say on the subject: “To add insult to injury, that unbelievably shameless, most degenerate species of human degradation, the white warders, would actually stand at the entrance of the toilets and watch us squatting over the floor toilet-pails trying to shit the slimes out of our bodies. I could not believe that type of indignity, it was beyond me to comprehend their nonchalance at their own debasement”. When I read Pheto’s comment written in bold letters on a plaque in front of the toilet, I did not know worse things were to follow in the course of the visit.
There was a row of small, congested cells where “dangerous” prisoners were kept. Among them was one which did not have a proper door. An iron grill served the purpose. Here the prisoner was kept naked with occasional pouring of cold water on him during the winter. Small wonder that few survived the ordeal. The prison has a torture chamber with metallic implements to torment the prisoners in every conceivable manner.
Three big aluminium drums stood outside in glass caskets. A comment by a political prisoner was prominently inscribed on a plaque in front of them:
“Certain images I would have wished to have photographed for posterity; one was the picture of the three drums of prepared food standing outside the prison kitchen, to be
wheel barrowed to the treason accused. To prevent only error, each drum was marked by a large piece of paper, which floated on the top of the food.
“The first drum was marked Congress One. It invariably contained well-cooked chunks of beef or pork destined for the white accused. The Congress Two drum was for the Blacks and Indians and it contained porridge or a mess of boiled vegetables on top of which floated pieces of fatty meat that were probably discarded cast-off from the Congress One drum….”
The museum not only showcases the Mahatma’s life in the prison in the form of the actual dress he wore in the jail, the implements with which he did hard labour but also displays replicas of the books he read like Leo Tolstoy’s Kingdom of God and the Bhagvad Gita. The wooden table that Gandhi used during his life as a barrister and leader of the Indians in South Africa for as long as two decades is an invaluable exhibit.
The pictures of Annie Besant and Jesus Christ that used to adorn his table are still in place and so is a heavy manual typewriter he used during his stay in South Africa.
But the most conspicuous exhibit is a pair of leather slippers Gandhi himself made. Not many people know that the Mahatma was an expert cobbler who learnt the trade when he was in South Africa. When he left the country for India, he sent the slippers as a parting gift to General Smuts through his lady secretary Sonja Schlesin, who considered the errand a great personal honour. It was Gandhi’s way of saying thanks to General Smuts, who signed an agreement with him in January 1914 repealing a reprehensible tax on Indians and validating all Hindu and Muslim marriages. It was to protest against these laws that Gandhi often went to the jail in Johannesburg.
Little surprise, Chief Justice Pius Langa, who welcomed Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, and the Prime Minister himself mentioned the slipper when they paid glowing tributes to Gandhi about whom the great scientist, Albert Einstein, said, “Generations to come will scarce believe that such a one as this ever in flesh and blood walked upon this earth”. It was a moving experience to find on Constitution Hill on October 2 this year leaders of two countries, separated by the Indian Ocean, jointly paying tribute to Mahatma Gandhi.
If Section 4 Prison Jail symbolised the brutalities of the apartheid regime, it also symbolised the power of resistance of people like Mahatma Gandhi and Nelson Mandela.
