And he (Oliver Tambo) said, “We’ve captured a number of people who were sent from Pretoria to destroy the organization. And we don’t have any regulations about how they should be treated. The ANC is a political organization. It has an annual general meeting in terms of its statutes, and elects its leadership. You pay your subscription. You agree to the aims and objects. Political parties don’t have provisions for locking people up and putting them on trial and deciding what to do with them. Can you help us?” And possibly the most important project — legal project — of my life emerged from that. He said, “It’s very difficult, isn’t it, to know what the standards are for treatment of captives?” In a rather cocky way, I said, “Well, not so difficult. We have international instruments that say no torture, inhuman or degrading punishment or treatment.” He said, “We use torture.” I couldn’t believe it. ANC — fighting for freedom — we use torture? He said it with a bleak face, and that was why he wanted me in there because what to do about it? The security people had captured these rascals who were trying to blow up the leadership and introduce poison and do all sorts of terrible things. They were beating them up. I didn’t know at the time. I didn’t know the details. They did emerge later, but he knew the details. And so we prepared our whole document, which was nothing short of a code of criminal law and procedure for a liberation movement in exile, without courts, without police force, without prisons. But how to deal with those people. The host country said, “It’s your problem. Our courts are busy enough. You deal with it.” So we had to establish a code of legality, and a concept of fundamental human rights. Fundamental human rights. No torture, no abuse, no ill treatment, whoever they are, whatever they’re trying to do.