You are here: Frontpage > Issues > 2450 >
Speaking for themselves
Jillian Edelstein, Truth and Lies - Stories from the Turth and Reconciliation Commision in South Africa (Granta 2001; ISBN 1 86207 446 1; 228pp, £25)
Reviewed by: ROBERTA BACIC
This is a very special book. Its main strength lies in the fact that Jillian Edelstein - a professional, South African-born and well known photographer - was there when the Commission did its job. Not only in the geographical places in which it took place, but she also took pictures of the principal actors of this incredible and impressive experience, something which showed the world that apartheid was something that could no longer exist.
Jillian combines her powerful images and portraits with the testimonies of those who came forwardto give evidence. Both the people who wanted their stories to beheard and the ones who were hoping to have the chance of beinggranted amnesty. They are wonderful black and white photos whichshow the faces, the features, the stance, gestures, and feelings ofthe men and women who supported apartheid and the ones who suf-fered its consequences. They also show several of the settings whereevents took place and some of the landscapes and urban environ-ments where these people came from. Just looking at the picturesmakes the book indispensable: one would never get rid of it.The South African Commission started its hearings in 1996. Itschair was Archbishop Desmond Tutu and its main task was to inves-tigate over thirty years of human rights violations under apartheid. Itwas founded under the belief that truth was the only means by whichthe people of South Africa could come to a common understandingof their past, and that that understanding was an imperative if thecountry was to shape a new national identity in the future.
Jillian Edelstein's interesting foreword gives an account of whyshe created this book. It is followed by a powerful introduction byMichael Ignatieff. He says: "Jillian Edelstein's pictures take us back tothe way it really was: the municipal halls, the men and women listeningto the testimony. [...] All this detail is essential to any understanding ofwhat abstractions like truth, justice and reconciliation actually mean.Jillian has preserved the reality of the process so that we will remem-ber that truth and reconciliation were the work of individuals, whorefused to live with silence, with lies, with equivocations and excuses."Pumla Gobodo-Madikizela, a clinical psychologist, includes a chapteron "Memory and Trauma". She joined the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in 1996 as a member of the Human Rights Violations Com-mittee. She says, "Contrary to common protestations against revisitingthe past, there is an urgency to talk about the past among many ofthose who have suffered gross violations of human rights. Sometimesretelling a story over and over again provides a way of returning to theoriginal pain and hence reconnection with the lost loved one."
Last but not least, The AOP Gallery (The Association of Photog-raphers, 81 Leonard Street, London EC2A 4QS, Britain), exhibited agood number of the photographs and stories between 11 Februaryand 2 March 2002. It was sponsored by Olympus. I had seen theadverts in the Metro newspaper and, this being a topic which inter-ests me most, and takes up a great part of my life, I went there. In fact, Idid so on three occasions. I stood in front of many of the photos for along time, just connecting to the person(s) in front of me and the situ-ation(s). But also, my feelings and thoughts brought me back to mywork at the Chilean National Corporation of Reparation and Reconcilia-tion. Powerful indeed. It also brought back Jillian Slovo's bookRed Dust, which is also based on the South African truth Commission.When I got hold of Jillian Edlestein's book I found, to my surprise, thatJillian Slovo also endorses it, saying: "It catalogues not only the painbut the triumph of ordinary people over a brutal past. It is a testimonyto the necessity of looking at what happened."