Bhengu - Government and Politics
Profile by Dr CUTHBERT CHIDOORI
My First General Conference of the Assemblies of God
The Congress on Mission and Evangelism held in Durban
W F P Burton and some Congo Missionaries
Nicholas
Bekinkosi Hepworth Bhengu
– His Youthful Dreams
– His Preaching
- Bhengu and Education
- Bhengu and Money
- Miraculous Experiences
- Spiritual Happenings
- The Sanctifying Spirit of God
– His Departure
Bhengu’s “Isinthunzi”
- Government and Politics
– Some Faults, Virtues and the Burden
of His Heart
President Lucas Mangope of Bophuthatswana
William
Frederick Mullan
The Fairview Assembly
Fred Mullan and the Gifts of the Spirit
A Miracle and a Vision
The Revival in Norwood
James E Mullan
Paul O Lange
William Branham in Durban
Oral Roberts in South Africa
Billy
Graham in Salisbury and Durban
The American Missionaries from Springfield, Missouri
C. Austin Chawner and the Portuguese Work
August Kast and the Mount Tabor Mission Station
Colin
La Foy and the Coloured Leadership
The Work in Zimbabwe
Mauritius and Reunion Island
Special
Answers to Prayer – 1
Special
Answers to Prayer – 2
A Beautiful Square with Good Vibes
Prayer and the Hippie Revival
The Young Turks
Tensions within the Group
The Split
of 1981 – Part One
The Split
of 1981 – Part Two
The Beginnings of the Faith Movement in South Africa
The Statement of September 1989
The Charismatic Renewal
The Start of the Pentecostal Revival World Wide and The Swedish Pentecostal Assemblies
Epilogue
APPENDIX 1 : How to be Filled with the Holy Spirit
APPENDIX 2 : The National Church by Nicholas Bhengu
APPENDIX 3 : Article from the Argus 5/02/1981
APPENDIX 4 : Pointers to the future of the Assemblies of God in the New South Africa (10/06/94)
In Nicholas Bhengu one found a man overmastered by a single vision, the conversion of Africa. He was an Africanist at heart. In his many social and spiritual contacts, he was charming and tactful even to the point of sometimes seeming equivocal. But at bottom, he was an African called to save Africa, undeviating and even ruthless in his consecration to that purpose. All else was secondary, even his ministry to the white church.
Both Nicholas Bhengu
and Alfred Gumede told me on separate occasions of a time of prayer several
of them experienced in an African hut somewhere in the country districts
of Kwazulu Natal. I don’t remember whether that was the occasion
when Gumede was baptised in the Holy Ghost and was so overcome he had
to stuff a handkerchief into his mouth to stifle his noisy ejaculations.
Perhaps that happened on a different occasion.
On this occasion the Holy Spirit came upon them all. There were praises
and prophecies. A prophecy went forth upon Nicholas Bhengu to the effect
that he was called to bear the Gospel to his own people in Africa, travelling
far and wide. Gumede told me that in the glory of those utterances, he
felt left out so that he prayed aloud, “And me, Lord! What about
me?” Like a flash, the word came from one or another of the company,
terse and imperious, “Teach! You teach!” And that indeed was
Gumede’s calling. He was not an administrator and not a great evangelist
as was Bhengu. But he could teach the Word, and he loved to do it.
Nicholas Bhengu told me that his strategy motivating his establishing assemblies
throughout the country was to plant Christians wherever he could in places
of influence where they would be effective when their day came. When African
independence came, as he said it surely would, and the laws of South Africa
came to be rewritten, as he said they surely would, he wanted so to preach
that in that day Christian Africans would be on hand to take part in the
process of law-making.
In about 1982 I drove Nicholas Bhengu to Ulundi, the Kwazulu capital, to
pay respects to Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi (Gatsha Buthelezi as he then
was pleased to be called) and to pray with him. In fact we did meet him
and were even ushered by him into the cabinet room where about half the
cabinet were in session. Bhengu was invited to address them which he did
with great heartiness and humour. They chortled gleefully with something
approaching child-like pleasure like family members before their father.
I myself was requested to pray for them and for the Chief. Both Bhengu
and I were presented with carved wild olive wood walking sticks by Buthelezi.
Bhengu brandished his in a mock fighting attitude and everybody laughed.
Afterwards we had lunch privately with Buthelezi whom I judged to be a
sincere Christian. We left for the drive home at four o’clock in
the afternoon after a full day with the Zulu prince.
That day, when we arrived at the parliamentary buildings in Ulundi, person
after person approached Bhengu to greet him respectfully; clerks, typists
and others. In an aside he murmured to me, “These are all our people;
we have them everywhere!”
The theme song of the Back to God Crusade (Bhengu’s evangelistic
organisation) is no shallow ditty. It is loaded with earnest meaning:
“
Africa back to God, Africa back to God.
We are singing, we are bringing,
Africa back to God.”
Now that Nicholas Bhengu is gone, we badly need a renewal of that broader
vision which embraces more than evangelism.
I think it was this earnest sense of calling and this dedication to the
clear-cut purpose to affect the history of Africa socially and politically,
as well as spiritually, that made it hard for many missionaries and indeed
many white South African Assemblies of God members to accommodate to Bhengu
when it came to church administration and policy.
Nicholas Bhengu always avoided political involvement. He warned his people
to steer clear of it. He told them, “If they force you by intimidation
to join their marches, then march because you have to, but don’t
get involved”. Yet his Africanist burden caused his critics to label
him anti-white and political. But he was never “anti-white”.
He was “pro-black”. As a Christian he eschewed the hatreds
and antagonisms of politics. He sought to respect people as people. But
his burden was always for Africa. His deepest love was for his own black
race.
Not many white Christians are able to grasp with complete understanding
the complexity of cross-cultural fellowship. I include myself among the
uncomprehending.
I must confess that after more than fifty years ministry in the Assemblies
of God, I can’t recall many missionaries (if any) who truly understood
the blacks in this deeper philosophical sense. It is a fact of missionary
history that some thought they did, and were thus vulnerable to manipulation
by the blacks they thought they understood so well. One assertive little
man said to me, “Brother, I have worked as a missionary to the blacks
for thirty years. I know the blacks.” But he of all people probably
did more harm to relationships in the Assemblies of God than any other
single person I can think of. Without his strident complaints which he
carried to the Assemblies of God home office in Springfield, the split
of 1964 when the American missionaries broke away from us, might never
have happened.
Missionaries have done a wonderful work in bringing the Gospel to Africa.
They educated Africa. Many a leader on the continent of Africa gained his
education through institutions founded by missionaries. There have been
revivals in Africa brought about by missionary endeavour. Missionaries
lit a light in Africa that will never be put out. But missionaries have
not been able to do all that Africa needs. Bhengu saw the need for an African
elite, enlightened and inspired by what the missionaries planted in bringing
the Gospel to Africa.
Missionaries have not been perfect. They have made mistakes. There have
been paternalism, cultural arrogance, ignorance and missionary colonialism.
I would say that the Assemblies of God have suffered in a real way through
missionary colonialism, especially through the missionaries from Springfield
in America. They sought to clone in Africa replicas of their own churches.
I have seen Nicholas Bhengu, in our conferences, striving against attempts
from Springfield to impose their ideas of church structure upon his work.
I still recall the sense of massive strength, like a bull elephant pushing
down a large tree with his forehead, as Bhengu spoke against American demands
that we in South Africa resisted.
The classical Pentecostal thrust in Africa has been to preach the Gospel
and little more. We have failed to develop besides the spirit, the hands,
the head and the moral fibre of our converts.
Bhengu’s resistance was not to preserve a kingdom for himself. It
emanated from his vision of the need of Africa and of his dedication to
bring Africa back to God in such a way as to affect its history. He strove
to build up thriving churches with a strong grass-roots membership. At
the same time, he never forgot his long-term objective of raising up an
African elite with Christian values and a spirit of service.
In a very true sense, Bhengu would not allow himself to become captive
to any political faction. Thus he kept in a position where he could minister
to everybody. Perhaps it was due to his wisdom. Perhaps it was due to the
sovereign working of God. Bhengu seemed to find favour with all political
leaders in apartheid South Africa, both black and white. He even found
a high degree of tolerance from the South African government, although
it fell short of outright favour.
There was a time towards the beginning of his ministry when the Department
of Native Affairs placed some strictures on him, accusing him of being
a Communist. On the advice of Jim Mullan, Bhengu wasted no time but sought
an audience with the Secretary for Native Affairs. At that time, it was
a certain Dr Louis Eiselen. Bhengu completely won the day. With a gentlemanly
grace that none of his successors ever sought to emulate, Dr Eiselen personally
apologised to Bhengu, first verbally and then followed up with an official
written apology. A decade later such courtesy would have been unthinkable
from any native administrator. By then the Department had become a virtual
kingdom within a kingdom. Many of the officials were dictatorial, masterful
and arrogant.
In the 1960s some black radicals regarded Bhengu as a “sell-out”.
He received threatening letters in the post. “Bhengu, look what you’re
doing to us!” “When we get you, we will boil you in oil”.
Yet in the same period, radical activists sent Nicholas Bhengu messengers
to promise that in the troubles, none of his churches would be burnt down.
Later from Robben Island, verbal messages were conveyed. “Greet our
father for us”. “Tell him I was the one who came to him in
East London about not burning churches”.
A few years ago at a diplomatic function which I attended, I made myself
known to the head of the Foreign Affairs Department, an ANC government
official. He said, “Oh, the Assemblies of God! I know you! You’re
for us! Well, to some extent at any rate!” The statement was equivocal
but friendly. When the African church dedicated the conference centre which
it had purchased for some four million rands at Henley-on-Klip, President
Mandela consented to be the guest of honour. I had the privilege with others
of sharing the platform with him and with Mrs Mary Metcalfe, the MEC for
education who spoke glowingly of the Assemblies of God efforts at educating
black children and women.
Yet in the apartheid era, homeland leaders courted Bhengu’s friendship.
George Mtanzima, then President of the Transkei visited the Back to God
East London Convention and spoke there. Bhengu had no choice but to open
the platform to him. His speech somewhat embarrassed Bhengu with its racialism.
Mtanzima expatiated on heaven. He said, “If I get to heaven and there’s
a white man there, I’ll walk out!” Bhengu had to wait until
the following day in Mtanzima’s absence to repudiate the statement.
He did so with characteristic wit, “If you get to heaven,” he
asked, “And there’s a white man there and you walk out, where
will you walk to? There are plenty of white men in the other place”.
In 1985 I visited Malawi with Nicholas Bhengu. He was deadly sick then
and in fact a dying man. He nevertheless insisted that he would attend
the General Conference to be held in September at Thaba Nchu.
From the conference he flew to East London. At the airport was none other
than President Sebe of the Ciskei to meet him in person. Sebe insisted
on seeing him into hospital. Here was an act of solicitude from one who
courted Bhengu’s friendship, - a gesture of genuine friendship transcending
tribal barriers, from a Xhosa chief to a Zulu church leader.
Once he was in hospital, Dr Piet Koornhoof, the Nationalist cabinet minister
took over. He flew Bhengu to Groote Schuur Hospital in Cape Town. His instructions
were, “Give him any treatment he needs. If he has to go to America
for a liver transplant, send him there.” Nicholas Bhengu died of
liver cancer.
When Geoffrey my son visited him in Groote Schuur, the ward sister expostulated, “Who
is this man? Everybody is making such a fuss over him! What is he?”
When Bhengu died, Dr Koornhoof phoned me to make sure of arrangements for
the funeral. I visited him at his office in the Tuynhuis in Cape Town and
prayed with him there. He called me John. It was a bitter disappointment
to read of Dr. Koornhoof’s extraordinary behaviour in divorcing his
wife and of his subsequent remarriage.
So Bhengu was a man with friendship for all but committed above all to
the cause of Christ and the conversion of Africa. His friendships transcended
tribalism, race and politics.