The Warders and Me — Nelson Mandela In any prisoner’s life is not the minister of justice, not the commissioner of prisons, not even the head of prison, but the warder in one’s section. If you are cold and want an extra blanket, you might petition the minister of justice, but you will get no response. If you go to the commissioner of prisons, he will say, “Sorry, it is against regulations.” The head of prison will way, “If I give you an extra blanket, I must give one to everyone.” But if you approach the warder in your corridor, and you a re on good terms with him, he will simply go to the stockroom and fetch a blanket. I always tried to be decent to the warders in my section; hostility was self-defeating. There was no point in having a permanent enemy among the warders. It was ANC policy to try to educate all people, even our enemies: we believed that all men, even prison service warders, were capable of change, and we did our utmost to try to sway them. In general we treated the warders as they treated us. If a man was considerate, we were considerate in return. Not all of our warders were ogres. We noticed right from the start that there were some among them who believed in fairness. Yet, being friendly with warders was not an easy proposition, for they generally found the idea of being courteous to a black man abhorrent. Because it was useful to have warders who were well disposed toward us, I often asked certain men to make overtures to selected warders. No one liked to take on such a job. We had one warder at the quarry who seemed particularly hostile to us. This was troublesome, for at the quarry we would hold discussions among ourselves, and a warder who did not permit us to talk was a great hindrance. I asked a certain comrade to befriend this fellow so that he would not interrupt our talks. The warder was quite crude, but he soon began to relax a bit around this one prisoner. One day, the warder asked this comrade for his jacket so that he could lay it on the grass and sit on it. Even though I knew it went against the comrade’s grain, I nodded to him to do it. A few days later, we were having our lunch under the shed when this warder wandered over. The warder had an extra sandwich, and he threw it on the grass near us and said, “Here.” That was his way of showing friendship. This presented us with a dilemma. On the one hand, he was treating us as animals to whom he could toss a bit of slop, and I felt it would undermine our dignity to take the sandwich. On the other hand, we were hungry, and to reject the gesture altogether would humiliate the warder we were trying to befriend. I could see that the comrade who had befriended the warder wanted the sandwich, and I nodded for him to take it. The strategy worked, for this warder became less wary around us. He even began to ask questions about the ANC. By definition , if a man worked for the prison service he was probably brainwashed by the government’s propaganda. He would have believed that we were terrorists and Communists who wanted to drive the white man into the sea. But as we quietly explained to him our nonracialism, our desire for equal rights, and our plans for the redistribution of wealth, he scratched his head and said, “It makes more bloody sense than the Nats.” Having sympathetic warders facilitated one of our most vital tasks on Robben Island: Communication. We regarded it as our duty to stay in touch with our men in F and G, which was where the general prisoners were kept. As politicians, we were just as intent on fortifying our organization in prison as we had been outside. Communication was essential if we were to coordinate our protests and complaints. Because of the greater numbers of prisoners coming and going in the general section, the men in F and G tended to have more recent information about not only what was happening in the movement, but about our friends and families······· 在每個囚犯的牢獄生活中，佔有一席之地的並非司法部長、監獄總長、甚至是監獄長，而是各牢房的獄吏。如果你覺得冷並想多要條毯子，可能會想到向司法部長申請，可結果會是渺無音訊。要是你去找監獄總長，他可能會說：“抱歉，這不符合規定。”監獄長會說：“我要是多給你一條，就得多給每個人一條。”可如果你去找走廊裏的獄吏，而且你跟他相處得不錯的話，他就會逕直到庫房拿一條給你。 我始終力圖對我所在的牢房的獄吏保持和氣；含有敵意是自找沒趣。在獄吏中樹敵是毫無道理的。非洲人國民大會（非國大）的政策就是去教育所有的人，甚至是我們的敵人：我們相信所有的人，即使是在監獄服役的獄吏，也是能改造的，而且我們要力爭改變他們。 總之，我們與獄吏間相互同等對待。如若有人關心我們，我們也知恩圖報。並非所有的獄吏都是妖魔鬼怪。我們從一開始就發現他們中一些人奉行公平原則。然而，與獄吏交好也非輕而易舉之事，因爲他們大都認爲對黑人表示好感是不合常理的。既然能有對我們示以好感的獄吏是件益事，因此我常想請人去和意中的獄吏溝通。可沒人願意做這件事。 在礦場有一名獄吏好好像對我們特別有敵意。這很麻煩，因爲在礦場我們要進行討論，而不准我們交談的獄吏就成了個極大的障礙。我請一位夥伴向這傢伙套近乎以便能讓他不來打斷我們的談話。這個獄吏很粗魯，不過很快他就對我的這位獄友緩和了一些。一天，這個獄吏向我這個夥伴要他身上的夾克，他要把它鋪在草地上好坐在上面。儘管我知道這不合我夥伴的脾氣，可我還是點頭讓他照辦了。 幾天後，當我們正在棚子下吃午飯時，這個獄吏也走過來。他比我們多一個三明治，他將它扔在我們附近的草地上說：“拿去。”這就是他表示友誼的方式。 這使我們感到進退兩難。一方面，他象對待畜牲那樣可以向我們潑泔水，我覺得拿那塊三明治會有損我們的尊嚴。而另一方面，我們飢腸轆轆，完全拒絕這種表示會使我們正盡力去親近的獄吏感到羞辱。我看得出那個已與獄吏親近了些的夥伴想要那個三明治，於是我向他點頭應允。 這個策略見效了，這個獄吏對我們不再提防了。他甚至開始問我們有關非國大的問題。一般來說，如果一個人在監獄工作他可能會被政府的宣傳攻勢所洗腦。他會認爲我們是些恐怖主義者以及要把白人扔進海里去的共產黨。可當我們心平氣和地對他解釋說我們是反種族主義者，我們渴望平等，懷有重分財富的想法，他撓撓頭說：“好像比南非國民黨講的有道理得多。” 取得獄吏們的同情有利於我們交流信息，這是在羅賓島上進行的多種要務之一。與我們在F區和G區的人保持聯繫是我們的責任。因爲普通犯人都關在那裏。作爲政治家，我們在獄中就如同在外邊一樣。要設法鞏固我們的組織。如果我們要協調抗議和控訴活動，交流信息是必不可少的。因爲更多的囚犯會在普通獄區進進出出，F區和G區的人們就有比較多的最新消息，不僅包括在運動中發生的事，不包括我們的朋友和家人的情況·····
