Story audio is generated using AI
The murder of SA Communist Party and ANC leader Chris Hani by those intent on halting the country’s historic transition from apartheid stands, more than any other incident of its time, as the one event that nearly pushed SA over the abyss.
The killing of Hani, one of the liberation movement’s most popular leaders, unleashed deep shock and outrage among most South Africans and his followers. The consensus is that at that crucial juncture of SA’s history, it was the voice of Nelson Mandela that served to calm tensions, redirecting the anger away from a catastrophic outbreak of civil conflict. The situation was made more combustible by the fact that Hani had been shot by a white person.
Yet Mandela, instead of doing the populist thing by fanning the flames, called for restraint. No one, he warned, should respond to the murder in a “rash and irresponsible” manner. Without yet being the president of the country at the time, his presidential intervention was born of concern not only for a section of a racially divided population, but for the long-term welfare of the country and all its citizens.
Calling Hani’s killing “a crime against a dearly beloved son of our land… loved by millions”, Mandela pointed out that it was Hani’s white neighbour who had given police crucial information that led to the white perpetrator’s arrest.
In large part it was his style of leadership — combining unbending commitment to principle with deep compassion for others — which fed into his status as a national and global icon, resulting in a temptation to view him as a kind of political superman, which he wasn’t.
He was more a product of his time and the broad tapestry of beliefs that made up the SA liberation movement, ranging from the Congress to the Black Consciousness and Pan-Africanist traditions. All of which had one common aim — to end the oppression of a black majority by a white minority, and to make SA a home for all its people, where all would be treated equally and fairly — irrespective of their race or gender.
It may be that with the passage of time, our memories of where we come from and the pledge we made at the establishment of the new republic in 1994 have faded
As we commemorate Mandela Day on his birthday this weekend, it would be apt to ask: what is his meaning for South Africa today? And what is the relevance of the values he stood for, from which we have begun to drift over the past three decades of democracy?
While Mandela sought to build one unitary SA, with one flag and national anthem, we have increasingly seen the re-emergence of racial and ethnic mobilisation, the culmination of which would be the manifestation, ironically, of the Verwoerdian and colonial dream of so-called separate development — which the victims always knew was nothing of the sort — and the carving up of the country into racial and tribal enclaves.
And, equally importantly, where the nation’s founding president spoke out against the poverty that ravaged the lives of the majority of citizens, SA today remains a most unequal society. Destitution and its main driver, unemployment, have been all but normalised while we turn a blind eye to the reality that nearly half of our youth remain jobless, despite the obvious socio-political consequences.
It would be apposite to reflect on the quality of leadership Mandela provided, not only at Hani’s death but more broadly as a leader of our country. Today, when so many political leaders are prone to choose the easy way out by pandering to their followers’ sectarian and exclusive interests, thereby exacerbating divisions, who speaks with Mandela’s authority and inclusivity? Also, we must ask why leaders in various walks of life, who wield significant influence in the religious, business and cultural spheres among others, have mysteriously abdicated their national leadership responsibility to care about the collective well-being of South Africans and to address the problems facing the country today.
In his inauguration speech 32 years ago, Mandela committed us to work for national reconciliation and unity, and also to “tackle the challenges of building peace, prosperity, non-sexism, non-racialism and democracy”. Fellow citizens, he said, must be freed from “the bondage of poverty, deprivation, suffering, gender and other discrimination”.
Indeed, we observe Mandela Day in an attempt to commemorate the man. And it’s all well and good to stop and do acts of charity, such as handing out food and blankets to the needy. But to properly and meaningfully honour Mandela’s legacy, we must promote the fundamental values he stood for, not only once a year on July 18 but throughout the year — in every field of endeavour.
Stopping for one day to help someone less fortunate may very well imbue us with the feel-good factor. But that would be more symbolic than transformative — akin to embracing the disadvantaged for 67 minutes out of 365 days, then keeping them at arm’s length for the rest of the time. For one thing, it will not resolve their state of poverty. For another, it won’t banish their ever-present hunger.
It may be that with the passage of time, our memories of where we come from and the pledge we made at the establishment of the new republic in 1994 have faded. Which makes it imperative that we take care not to jettison our founding values and principles, as espoused by Mandela and embedded in the constitution, but to address with greater intent the national task of ending inequality and privation in our society. To end, too, the blight of gender-based violence and make ours a more just society.











Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.