SELLO HATANG | Rev Jesse Jackson leaves a legacy of solidarity beyond borders

I received the news of the passing of Rev Jesse Jackson with a deep sense of gratitude rather than only grief for the life I knew.

Some lives are so purposeful that even in their departure they leave instructions behind. He was one such life, a struggle veteran who reminded the world that solidarity is not optional for those who understand oppression; it is a duty.

We first met at a gala dinner held in honour of another great leader, mayor David Dinkins. Even in that formal setting, he carried a rare warmth, a presence that made you feel seen rather than observed.

But the moment forever etched in my memory came later on the Robben Island ferry. He was accompanying a large group of American visitors to the island, yet it never felt like tourism to him; it felt like a pilgrimage. His love for our country was awe-inspiring.

In that brief encounter you sensed he understood not only our history but also our pain and our promise. We met several times thereafter, and he was consistently the same: gracious, attentive, and deeply human. He listened fully.

He spoke carefully. He believed, truly believed, that people separated by oceans could still belong to one another through shared struggle and shared hope.

Rev Jackson taught us that solidarity must travel. It must cross borders, races, languages and generations. It must especially find the poor and the vulnerable, because justice that does not reach them is incomplete

Reflecting on the lessons of Rev Jackson and those who walked beside him, I am reminded of something former US ambassador to SA Patrick Gaspard once conveyed about his teaching: that tears are never a sign of weakness. They are water and salt, and when they fall in the service of justice, they nourish change.

They are not the end of courage but evidence of it, part of the long journey toward dignity. May we, therefore, do everything possible to bestow dignity on others rather than strip it away.

Dignity is the quiet acknowledgement of another person’s humanity; it is the difference between helping and humiliating, between leadership and domination. When we protect dignity, we protect hope. When we restore dignity, we restore belonging.

Rev Jackson taught us that solidarity must travel. It must cross borders, races, languages and generations. It must especially find the poor and the vulnerable, because justice that does not reach them is incomplete. Compassion is not a feeling; it is a responsibility.

If we understand suffering, we inherit the duty to lessen it. May we believe in our country the way he did, not blindly, but faithfully.

May we care about those excluded from opportunity and work deliberately to bring them into dignity. May we refuse the comfort of indifference.

He showed us that the struggle against poverty and inequality is not charity; it is solidarity in action. Hope is proven by what we do for those who cannot repay us. A nation survives not because it is perfect, but because its people keep choosing one another. Rest well, reverend.

We promise to honour you best not in memory alone, but in every act that restores dignity to another human being. You walked far so others could stand taller. Now it is our turn to keep walking.

• Hatang is the executive director at Re Hata Mmoho