IN APRIL 1994, Nelson Mandela was elected as the first Black president of South Africa in the country’s first multiracial election. Before becoming president, Mandela was imprisoned for 27 years for his role in the African National Congress’ fight against apartheid. Mandela’s life was reminiscent of the biblical story of Joseph; it was a story of someone ascending from the prison to the palace, or in Mandela’s case, from Robben Island to Pretoria.
I often reflect on how Mandela cultivated such a resilient interior life, one capable of sustaining engagement with those who had caused him and his fellow South Africans harm. It would be understandable if Mandela were bitter. But he once said, “Bitterness comes very easily when one is idle and has nothing to do. If you are busy with something positive, constructive, and worthy, you are likely to forget experiences which have been counterproductive.”
Mandela’s interior formation is notable, especially because many people who have spent time incarcerated explain how profoundly prison does stoke bitterness and resentment. It impacts their sense of self. My colleague Jamel once shared with me the impact of being assigned a DIN (Department Identification Number). Rather than being called by name, he was repeatedly referred to by that number. Many, like Jamel, are left learning again who they are after their release, even while continuing to work within systems that perpetuate harm.
But bitterness and resentment can impact anyone. Lately, I’ve noticed how my own imagination reaches for scenarios of retribution in response to what I witness in our current political moment. Many continue to extend trust to a president who has appealed to the worst in our humanity by keeping ledgers of enemies and pursuing retribution through tariffs, intimidation, or agencies like Immigration and Customs Enforcement. But when I sit with that impulse long enough, I realize it’s less about justice and more about wanting relief from anger. Slowing down to process my rage doesn’t erase the harm, but it does keep me from letting resentment decide who I become.
Psychology recognizes how emotions like bitterness, and its complex cousin, resentment, require introspection in order to be healed. However, introspection isn’t enough. Purposeful action in the direction of wholeness and justice is required. The word “emotion” comes from a Latin word that means “to move” (note Mandela’s reflection about constructive activity). Ironically, resentment is also known as the “emotion of justice,” a signal that something in us still longs for repair. Some feelings just don’t dissipate. Seeking healing is a venture of self-liberation that can lead to public good.
The arc of Mandela’s life shows us that healing was already at work before his first step out of Robben Island prison. His freedom matured into liberation through interior honesty and healing actions. Continuing his fight for democracy and human dignity requires protecting our souls from corrosive resentment.
May our actions, even toward our enemies, be the fruit of our liberative healing.
José Humphreys III is an ordained minister, author of Seeing Jesus in East Harlem: What Happens When Churches Show Up and Stay Put, and co-author of Ecosystems of Jubilee: Economic Ethics for the Neighborhood (Zondervan, 2023).
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