It is
a wealth of fascinating information about the colony’s function in
the mechanism of slavery that saw folks brought from as far away as
Indonesia. But as intriguing as it was its draw paled in
comparison to the Mandela exhibit housed inside.
‘Madiba’,
as he is affectionately known, has many outstanding qualities, none
more remarkable than his quasi-divine ability to forgive. He lost
almost 27 years of his life, the best years of his life, to
incarceration at the hands of a government few could contend was
legitimate. Some might argue that his confinement was warranted
considering his actions. The fact remains that he was the leader
of Umkhonto
we Sizwe (Spear of the Nation), the armed wing of
the African
National Congress (ANC) in the early 60s. He did support a
sabotage campaign targeting military and government objectives and
further recognized the potential need for guerrilla warfare should
this plan fail to end apartheid. So what if he managed to carry out
the mission of MK (short for Umkhonto we Sizwe) without causalities.
He was an enemy of the state.
And
what a state it was. It became increasingly clear that pacifism and
peaceful protest would not usher in the demise of apartheid, at least
during that period. So, against every fiber of his being (he was a
staunch supporter of Mahatma Gandhi), he agreed to a limited (i.e. no
causalities) campaign of violence against symbols of apartheid. But
he had no illusions. Violence is still violence regardless of
causalities.
After
his arrest and subsequent trial he stood firm in defense of his
actions and went so far as to explain the tactics employed by MK in
order to show the world what the struggle had come to and why his
actions and the actions of his followers were necessary in the face
of blatant injustice (injustice the world turned a blind eye to for
years to come). He concluded his opening statement at trial with
these words:
"During
my lifetime I have dedicated myself to the struggle of the African
people. I have fought against white domination, and I have fought
against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic
and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and
with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and
to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared
to die."
You
would think that spending over 26 years in prison would do nothing to
soften one’s disposition but, remarkably, any bitterness in
Mandela’s heart was sequestered somewhere no one on the outside
could detect. Upon his release nobody was quite sure what would
ensue, least of all the apartheid government. This had been the case
since 1985 when President Botha agreed to release Mandela on the
condition that he agree to reject armed struggle as a political tool.
They were scared shitless. They had a reason to be. His response was
simple:
"What
freedom am I being offered while the organisation of the people
remains banned? Only free men can negotiate. A prisoner cannot enter
into contracts."
Not
hard to see his background in law shining through there. You can
imagine the consternation of the white South African minority upon
Mandela’s release. What would he do? Payback, as they say, is a
bitch. Picture an enormous pile of kindling wood dipped in gasoline
floating atop a lake of nitroglycerine adjacent to a dynamite factory
and you might have some idea of the potential powder keg that was
South Africa in the early 90s. Now picture Mandela as the match. One
need only look at the modern history of neighboring Zimbabwe to
appreciate the potential.
Lesser
men may have succumbed to the need for vengeance or the perceived
imperative for ‘justice’. Thankfully, Mandela is a different
breed, the rarest of rare. He was absolutely sure of one thing: the
only way for South Africa to recover and move toward prosperity was
forgiveness and reconciliation. And he knew that since the eyes of
the world were focused on him it was up to him to lead the way. And
that is exactly what he did from the moment he became a free man once
again.
I
suppose I could point to Mandela’s establishment of the Truth
and Reconciliation Commission after becoming president to
underscore his commitment to forgiveness and the subsequent progress
that he believed would inevitably result there from but I think the
following anecdote says it all. In 1995 President Mandela
turned up at 1995
Rugby World Cup Final sporting Francois Pienaar’s number
six Springbok jersey. No big deal, right? Wrong. Rugby in South
Africa had become synonymous with apartheid and the oppressive white
minority. He stunned everyone. It is almost impossible to
underestimate the significance of this gesture. Clearly, his desires
were genuine and even his detractors (there were many) had to tip
their hat on this one. And yes, this incident was at the very
heart of Clint Eastwood’s Invictus starring
Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon in case it seems familiar.
So if
given my choice of dinner guests Madiba it would be. To look into
this man’s eyes and listen as he explains the origin of his
seemingly endless well of personal amnesty and indefatigable
dedication to the principles of human equality would be an experience
akin to winning the lottery. I’m not big on the concept of personal
heroes but if I were forced to list one it would be Nelson Mandela.
Below
is a poem often recited by Mandela aloud to himself and his fellow
prisoners on Robben
Island. It gave him strength and was an indispensable source of
his own empowerment. For him it was the very essence of
self-discipline.
by
William
Ernest Henley
Out
of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In
the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond
this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It
matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
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'Love me or hate me, but spare me your indifference.' -- Libbie Fudim