Professor Colin Bundy
Reassessing Nelson Mandela

Colin Bundy - Reassessing Nelson Mandela

- My topic this evening is “Reassessing Nelson Mandela”. Mandela had a stock of little jokes that he quite often used. When he was introduced to someone whom he had met previously, he would gravely insist, “Oh yes, I remember Professor Bundy, "but I don’t know if he remembers me.” And the punchline worked because the idea that anyone didn’t remember him was absurd. And yes, of course, he is remembered, but how? And how will he be remembered 10 or 50 years from now? How will historians come to assess his achievements and how different might their conclusions be from popular sentiment? Which Mandela will persist in the public imagination in South Africa and elsewhere, and which Mandela is remembered the actual historical Mandela, or a generalised and essentially mythical Mandela? In my talk, I want to do two main things. Firstly, I want to mention some ways in which scholarly, historical appraisals of Mandela’s life and legacy have changed and are changing. And then secondly, I want to say something about a dramatic sea change in how Mandela has been spoken about in South Africa in recent years. Strikingly a reputation which even after his death seems to be beyond critique, is now being called quite shrilly into question, in the media, on the streets and in party politics. Today, reservations or accusations once voiced only as muttered asides are more audible, especially among South Africa’s black intelligentsia.

But let me begin with Mandela as the subject of historical scholarship. Here distinguishing between Mandela the man and Mandela the myth is my essential starting point. Because if this distinction is not carefully made, the risk is that Mandela is remembered in caricature or trade in ways that are at once simplistic and overblown, so that we wind up with recollections of a giant, but one which on closer inspection turns out to be a vast cardboard cutout remembered in only two dimensions; lacking depth or complexity. And an associated danger is that the giant is invested with virtues and powers that are literally superhuman. Consider the hyperbole and rhetorical overkill of the obituaries when Mandela died. South African commentators hailed him as quote, “A twin brother of Jesus,” unquote, and referred to his works on Earth. The Irish magnet Tony O'Reilly used the same trope. “Madiba was sent by God,” he said. Secular claims and comparisons were every bit as ambitious. One commentator judged that the changes in South Africa had been orchestrated by one, orchestrated by one man. Another likened Mandela to Gandhi, Lenin, and JFK in a single sentence.

Now, President Obama wasn’t often outpaced when it came to the oratorical moment, and he declared that Mandela, and I’m quoting “by any measure, has changed "the arc of history, transforming his country, "the continent and the world,” unquote. Wow! Now quite clearly, whether Mandela is invoked as a deity or as an incomparably gifted human being, he’s not being remembered, he’s being misremembered. And ironically, in elevating Mandela to unattainable proportions, the effect is to make him less accessible, less credible, and less interesting. He’s reinvented and embraced as a kind of all-purpose kumbaya figure. Mandela, the global icon, what I call Mandela the myth is reduced to a series of abstract nouns; forgiveness, conciliation, peace, humanity, and love. Mandela the man had a complex personality and complex career. Admiring accounts that focus only on the warmth and the impact of his presence simply fail to notice other aspects of his personality; stubbornness, loneliness, anger, a peremptory, and even authoritarian edge, and an uncritical fascination with celebrities and the very rich. Importantly, the mythic or iconic Mandela; noble, forgiving, conciliatory, is constructed by omitting crucial dimensions of his career. It airbrushes out the impetuous and angry young Africanist, the left-leaning nationalist close to communist friends and socialist ideas in his ‘40s.

The revolutionary who gladly headed an underground armed wing as well as, of course, the consummate politician of later years, persuader nonpareil. Compared to the cardboard giant Mandela was a more complex historical figure, a much more versatile leader, both a negotiator and a fighter, and infinitely more interesting. So if one avoids both the exaggerated superhero and the saintly father figure, what kinds of historical assessments of Nielsen Mandela might emerge? As he recedes further into the historical past, it’s a month or two short of 10 years since he died. As more perspectives become available, how might his career be interpreted? How might his reputation be recalibrated? I’m going to be highly selective and focus on just a handful of issues. I’m going to speak about the impact of the prison years on Mandela, then what I shall call his political performativity. Thirdly, his presidential term, Mandela as president, and then Mandela and money, the tale of fundraising, favours and fortunes. But let me take the first of those: the impact of prison on Mandela. His Robben Island years, 24 years on Robben Island, and three years in other prisons, have generated sensitive and important work on Mandela’s personality and psychology and how these changed in prison. Biographers have noted that Mandela emerged from prison, I’m quoting, “an intensely private person "accustomed to concealing his emotions "behind a mask” unquote And another, “That he built high walls "around his private personality.” Another, “That he combined extreme heartiness "with impenetrable reserve.”

And these traits, I think, were the price paid for a rigorous control over his emotions. Fellow prisoner and confidant of Mandela, Mac Maharaj, observed, and I’m quoting, “By 1976, Mandela had developed an immense capacity "for self-control. "This did not come naturally to him, "his self-control was consciously cultivated "and nurtured,” self-control discipline.“ And David Schalkwyck in an essay on Mandela’s, what he calls "Mandela’s Stoicism”, concludes that while Mandela’s management of his emotions had many advantages, quote, “it also brought with it an immense loss of humanity.” Another biographer has written “that Mandela emerged from prison, "an intensely private person "accustomed to concealing his emotions behind a mask.” And indeed, when he wrote to Winnie, his wife, in 1976, he wrote, “I have been fairly successful "in putting on a mask "behind which I have pined for the family.” I think this takes us a long way to understanding Mandela’s loneliness and restlessness after his release, and his awkwardness with old friends. “He had forgotten how to communicate” said Amina Cachaliya, one of his oldest friends. Now most of us have our closest relationships with members of our family, and then we have circles of friends, and then there are acquaintances and people that we don’t know that we bump into. In Mandela’s case, he was most at ease, famously at ease, socially with strangers and acquaintances. He discouraged intimacy in his friendships and his family life was essentially a disaster area. In other words, the conventional pyramid of affinities in Mandela’s case was inverted.

And I think that’s a measure of how prison marked him. Let me just stay with the issue of mask for a moment. One of his, the man who edited and co-wrote his autobiography, “Long March to Freedom”, Richard Stengel, spent many, many, many hours over a long period of time with Mandela compiling for the book. And he knew him quite well. And this is what he’s written about Mandela’s smile and his mask. Remember the smile that 100 megawatt smile that we all knew so well that in 1994 was on almost every ANC electoral poster. Mandela’s smile was political Prozac for a nervous electorate. Stengel writes, “Mandela smiled, "he realised early on that it was part of his power. "And like a great actor, he perfected it. "It was his mask.” And a little bit later, he writes, “from his release onwards, "Mandela sought to be father of the country "intent on showing people he did not harbour grievance. "But much of this was for show. "The private Mandela was deeply pained "about what had happened to him. "He was aware that he’d spent the best years "of his life in prison, "but he knew that he could never let people see "behind the curtain, that he could never expose "his true feelings. "His smile was his mask, hiding as much as it disclosed.” So a number of biographers have noted Mandela’s loneliness and grief, and anger. But I think Jonny Steinberg’s recent book, which came out this year, remarkable book, “Winnie and Nelson: Portrait of a Marriage”, explores these themes more fully than any previous scholar. Now, I know some of you may have heard Johnny recently discussing this on Lockdown University, and forgive me if we overlap it all, but a central finding of his book is that both Nelson and Winnie were quote, “astonishingly scarred human beings.” And he writes vividly about how angry Mandela became through his prison experience, and how assiduously he shrouded, masked, and controlled his anger.

Barbara Masekela, sister of trumpeter Hugh Masekela, who’s chief of staff in Mandela’s office when he became president, and she’d been a close advisor and political confidant since 1990. And this is what she told Steinberg. I’m quoting. “He was a deeply wounded man. "He was one of the saddest human beings I’ve known. "From time to time you felt it come out of him. "It was sadness and anger mixed together, fierce anger, "it must have taken masterful discipline not to show it. "It would come without words, "most often when we were in a crowd, he would stop waving, "there was just a stillness, a grim, frightening stillness, "and an almost unbearable sadness.” And Masekela wondered, I think perceptively, whether 27 years in prison would’ve damaged a quieter, less rambunctious soul as severely as a damaged Mandela. “The thing about Madiba,” she said, “is that he loved life so much. "Nobody will ever be able to measure "the loss of that freedom, the loss of that love of laughter "and of life itself,” unquote. Let me now move to Mandela as a politician, and particularly the performative aspect of his appeal. Several commentators have noted Mandela’s acute awareness of his own presence, of the potency of the image. Stengel says that Mandela like Lincoln was very aware of the power of the photographic image, and both men were photographed as often as they could be. He said Mandela collected and curated his image throughout his life. He was also very aware of the strength of the symbolic gesture. So a little bit more about the gesture later.

Elleke Boehmer has written a little introduction to Mandela’s life, and she describes his quote, “His chameleon-like talent for donning different disguises, "his theatrical flair for costume and gesture, "his shrewd awareness of the power "of his own image,” unquote. She writes that quote, “Mandela’s breathtaking abilities "as performer and manipulator of images were qualities "that are central to understanding "his historical achievement,” unquote. And Tom Lodge, who’s written a fine biography of Mandela, he emphasises Mandela’s quote, “political actions as performance "self-consciously planned, scripted "to meet public expectations "or calculated to shift popular sentiment. "For Mandela politics has always been primarily "about enacting stories, about making narratives, "and only secondarily about ideological vision,” unquote. And I believe that these insights are crucial to a close reading of Mandela as a politician at every stage of his active career before, during, and after prison. They alert us, these insights alert us, to the skills and single-mindedness involved in Mandela’s well-rehearsed spontaneity. Stengel, whom I’ve mentioned, provides vivid sense of Mandela as performer.

And I’m quoting. “Many times I sat next to him in the back of his car "as he waited for the precise moment "to emerge at an event. "Whether he was exiting an aeroplane "or entering a room, he was aware of the figure "that he cut under the exact moment "that would earn him maximum attention,” unquote. Barbara Masekela tells a similar story, quote, “Madiba was an actor, he was completely honest about it. "We would catch him primping just before some delegation "or person came to talk to him. "You could actually see him becoming this Mandela, "Mandela the great forgiver, "or that Mandela, the Tembu princeling. "We would catch him doing it and he would laugh,” unquote. And yet the fact remains, as both Tom Lodge and Elleke Boehmer insist that his ethical consistency and moral standing meant that Mandela could charge every calculated act of political persuasion with sincerity. From the time of his release until the election in 1994, in those lurching years of transition and uncertainty and anxiety, Mandela’s presence was reassuring, and his evident commitment to a better future was inspiring. As an icon and as a political actor, he played a role at a particular moment, in a particular place for which he was singularly equipped. More than any other politician, he represented the aspirations of the disenfranchised majority, and at the same time, more than any other politician he could reassure white South Africans that they could be part of the new order. His personal appeal, his exemplary behaviour, and his genius for political symbolism were key to the makeshift structures of trust that were built over the deep divides of South African society.

The Rainbow Nation prospect was fragile and short-lived, but while it lasted, it created a political and emotional space that made reconciliation imaginable. Let me turn to Mandela’s presidency. He spent five years as president, the first head of state of Democratic South Africa, and he pursued his politics of reconciliation and nation building, not just by advocating it, but by performing it. Symbolic moments, the gestures, these included the lunch that he threw for the widows of black and white opponents. He invited black women who had been killed by white police or white military have lunch with the wives of those men. There was his visit to have tea with Verwoerd widow, she was too frail to attend that lunch, so he travelled 200 miles to visit her at her home. And, of course, talking about his flair for gesture, of course, there was his appearance in a Springbok rugby shirt when South Africans of all races wept with joy and disbelief. As President, Mandela was not a hands-on politician, his deputy Thabo Mbeki chaired most cabinet meetings and oversaw the administration of government. Mandela’s crowning achievement was neither legislative nor executive. Rather, it was a creative project of improvising a nation, of imagining and living out and inviting others to join a single new nation. If a nation is, to use a famous phrase, an imagined community, then Mandela’s extraordinary feat was to make a new South African nation not only imaginable but feasible. Other than that central achievement, his record as a president was patchy.

He intervened with uneven success in aspects of foreign policy. He delighted in personal diplomacy, he was confident that calls to heads of state would be answered regardless of time zones. He enjoyed making appointments to ambassadorial posts, old loyalties sometimes trumping good judgement . He shuffled his cabinet reluctantly, tolerating poor performers, although he was swift to punish those, like Pallo Jordan and Bantu Holomisa, whose loyalty he felt fell short. His colleagues in government were amused or shocked according to temperament by the attention he lavished on celebrities, especially women like; Princess Diana, Naomi Campbell, the Spice Girls and Whoopi Goldberg. Pop stars, actors, models, beauty queens and sportsmen beyond count all had their photo up with Madiba. And it was often difficult to determine who was more starstruck. Let me turn to the topic of Mandela and money. Biographers have noted that Mandela enjoyed the glamour of wealth as much as he revelled in the glitz of show business. His first and greatest biographer, Anthony Sampson comments, “He was not always fastidious in friendships "in this respect.” After his separation from Winnie, he surprised friends by moving into the showy mansion of Douw Steyn.

When he moved from there to his home in Houghton, it was bought for him by a benefactor. “He was,” says Sampson, “showered with a small financial fortune "by friendly tycoons.” At the divorce hearings in 1996, Winnie claimed $5 million as a half share of his then assets. Mandela accepted favours and largesse in a regal way, in a chiefly way, in a way that in African society chiefs do accept tributes as part of what relates them to their followers. Mandela accepted, oh, he accepted favours in a regal way; a home built for him here; a daughter’s eye-wateringly lavish wedding paid for there, and holidays at various elite resorts around the world paid for. Mandela also behaved somewhat like a chief, a chief accepting tribute when it came to fundraising, especially for his personal project, to build 100 schools and 50 clinics. Mandela would read the financial pages of the South African newspapers, and he would select a successful corporation and have Zelda La Grange, his personal assistant, hunt down the CEO. He would then invite them to breakfast or lunch, and after a while, businessmen used to joke that if you’re invited to breakfast with Mandela, it’ll be the most expensive breakfast you ever had. He would then fly the corporate boss over the selected rural site, say, “That’s where we’re going to build this school, or, "that’s where the clinic will go.” Now, these sites had usually been selected by traditional leaders, by chiefs, and this was Mandela’s response to them. He would then specify the sum of money needed.

I spoke to John Battersby, who was close to him in these years, who said that as far as he knew, only one person had ever refused this invitation to give money. This odd blend of fundraising, philanthropy, and aristocratic fiat had its drawbacks. By 1999, it transpired that many of these structures, the schools and clinics, were left abandoned. They lack the necessary infrastructure, personnel, supplies, and know-how. There is, I think, a striking discrepancy between Mandela’s own conspicuous probity, I mean he enormously proper when it came to, you know, matters of self-interest. The the gap between his probity, his personal probity, and his willingness to call in favours arguably set a poor example to others in his party. And it was during his presidency that the first signs of cronyism and corruption began. Indeed in one of the annual conferences of the ANC, he was the first leader of the ANC to warn against corruption that was affecting the party. His loyalty to his comrades, it was during his presidency, I say that the first signs of cronyism and corruption began, and his loyalty to his comrades and the poor judgement that this often represented allowed corruption to sink its roots during his term of office. It was on his watch that the notorious Arms Deal was launched, later to poison the well of governance. And in particular, Mandela permitted Joe Modise to remain as defence minister, long after rumours and allegations about kickbacks and conflicts of interests swirled. Fundraising. Mandela was a staggeringly, staggeringly successful fundraiser. In the 1990s, most of his efforts were on behalf of the ANC. And in late 1990, he’d been out of prison for about 10 months, it was reported, and I’m quoting, “Mandela picked up 6.5 million from India,” these are dollars, all U.S. dollars, “10 million from Indonesia, 15 million from Australia. "The U.S. had given 51 million and Britain 35 million. "And after he left office, Mandela sought to convert his own "global standing into cash, conducting a ferocious "and consuming regimen of fundraising on behalf "of his own two charitable foundations "and that of Graca Machel, his third wife. "Mandela, approached the rich. "He was willing to lean on those whom he approached, "using the full weight of his fame. "And he was adept at using the generosity of other donors "to leave new gifts.”

Thus, for example, he wrote to Denzel Washington, and it’s a longish quote. “You will recall when I visited you, "you said you did not want a lecture, "but merely to know how much you should donate "to my foundation? "I refused to do so, and I left the matter "to your good judgement and your well-known generosity. "All I wish to add is that the following individuals "responded to me most generously; "Bill and Melinda Gates gave $10 million to my foundation "and 5 million to Graca’s. "Craig McCall of Tele Disc donated 7.5 million "to each of my and Graca’s foundations. "Oprah Winfrey donated $10 million. "President Clinton 5 million.” And the list continued. Mandela graciously gave up the political kingdom, but I do wonder sometimes what was the cost to his dignity of this relentless pursuit of funds for good causes? And I wonder what selfish psychological needs drove his strenuous selflessness. So far, I’ve spoken about how historians and biographers have assessed Mandela, but let me now turn to that dramatic change that took place in the public sphere. How Mandela’s role and reputation were called into question amongst significant parts of the population. While he was alive, and even shortly after his death, public critiques were infrequent and they were invariably met by media and political disapproval. Yet there were straws in the wind amongst many reverential obituaries that marked his death, an exception was that by the novelist Zakes Mda.

And he noted presciently that, and I’m quoting, “There’s an increasingly vocal segment "of black South Africans who feel that Mandela sold out "the liberation struggle to white interests,” unquote. “The blame-Mandela movement was not yet a groundswell, he wrote, "but it is loud enough in its vehements "to warrant attention.” He quoted a young activists posting on social media earlier that year at one of Mandela’s last visits to hospital. She wrote, “Mandela must not die yet. "No, no, no, that would be unfair. "People don’t get away with crime, neither must he.” And one of her close associates, later an EFF member of Parliament argued during the student debate at Wits University in July, 2013, quote, “Mandela cuts deals "with white people at the expense of black people. "That is his unique contribution. That’s his legacy.” Now, at that moment, his was the minority voice, but essentially the same critique was already being made in more measured register by others. Siki Mgabadeli is an influential voice in the new South Africa. She’s a leading financial journalist and a television presenter. And in June, 2013, she told an American academic quote, “In 1994, we were marketed as the rainbow nation, "like a fancy commodity in an ad. "But in truth, Mandela was too preoccupied with white fears "and not enough with black grievances "and expectations of a better life. "I know it isn’t easy to right the wrongs of three centuries "of colonialism in 19 years, "but from the onset Mandela was too timorous,” unquote. Now, unquote. Initially, such sentiments flowed below the surface as a kind of dissident undercurrent, but in 2015, that undercurrent became a surge. In 2015, a reputation that had appeared inviolable was called harshly into question in South Africa; in the media, on the airwaves, on the streets, but especially on campuses across the country.

Members of a non-black, sorry, a non ANC, black intelligentsia and swathes of disaffected Born Frees, Born Frees were young South Africans born after apartheid, generated a counter narrative, a counter narrative hostile to the 1994 negotiated settlement, and which accused Mandela of authoring a historic betrayal. A university student at Cape Town, an insider in the Rhodes Must Fall movement, and the Rhodes, and the FeesMustFall movement that followed it writes that the fall movement stemmed in large degree from a visceral debate In February, 2015 on the topic of whether Mandela quote, “had sold South Africa out,” unquote, during negotiations. And black student protestors across the country in 2015 and 2016 were sharply critical of the negotiated settlement and the extent to which it had preserved white privileges and black poverty. And this was summed up quite neatly in a placard carried during the march on the Union Buildings by students in October, 2015. The placard read, “Our parents were sold dreams in 1994, "we are just here for a refund.” And these protestors tended to centre their disaffection with the deals of 1994 to centre those upon Mandela. I chaired a panel at the University of Cape Town a few years ago, which assessed Mandela’s legacy. And to the consternation of a largely white audience, the musician Neo Muyanga argued persuasively, and I think accurately, that criticisms of Mandela are a kind of code for black anger at white South Africans. “If Mandela was so uncritically admired by the white public, "was he not necessarily suspect,” said Muyanga. And like so much else in public discourse today in South Africa, Mandela’s legacy is increasingly polarised on racial axis. Let me be clear. The critique that Mandela sold us out is entirely deficient as historical explanation. It is the mirror image of claims that Mandela single-handedly achieved democracy. Equally deficient as explanation.

The critique blames Mandela as though he single-handedly directed the ANC’s policy in the 1990s, which, of course, he did not. It personalises a much more complex and plural accommodation by the ANC with the interests of big business. But the critique and the anger behind it are not going to go away. Something like a consensus has emerged within black opinion-formers that Mandela’s ANC successfully managed the political turnover, but that he and his comrades badly botched the economic transition. So I’d like to go beyond the crude version: he sold us out, or he tried to hard to please whites, or he betrayed the ANC, and ask specifically what Mandela’s own role was in the accommodation by the ANC of the interest of big business? Well, the negotiations process as a whole, Tom Lodge is surely correct that Mandela’s moral endorsement of political compromise was indispensable to the pacted political dispensation. But did his active political role in the ANC go beyond championing the deal and supporting his negotiating team? Clearly, Mandela did not author the ANC’s rethink on economic policy, but his role was crucial in effecting it in two main respects. Firstly, he appears to have been especially open to the blandishments and persuasion of business interests at a personal level. His regular lunches and dinners with Harry Oppenheimer, head of Anglo American, opened the door for ANC seniors to meet corporate barons at Little Brenthurst, the Oppenheimer Estate. The personal warmth of Mandela’s relations with business leaders was genuine. He asked Helen Suzman to arrange a lunch with tycoons where she told his biographer, Anthony Sampson, “he charmed the bloody lot of them.”

And this set the tone for the accelerating convergence between the liberation movement and the boardroom. Secondly, for the first two years after his release, Mandela continued to defend nationalisation as an ANC economic policy. But in February, 1992, Mandela attended the World Economic Forum at Davos in Switzerland, and here he was persuaded by delegates in private meetings, the Dutch finance minister, and diplomats from Vietnam and China that nationalisation no longer made sense in the age of globalisation. “They changed my views altogether,” Mandela told Anthony Sampson. “I came home to say, chaps, we have to choose, "we either keep nationalisation and get no investment, "or we modify our own attitude and get investment,” unquote. His change of heart was sincere enough, but it then translated into an insistence that the rest of the ANC should share his views. Some in his party were uneasy about how conservative the new policies were, but wrote one of them, Ronnie Kasrils quote, “attempts within the ANC to voice such views "were imperiously put down by Mandela, "who firmly believed the opposite "and by then was used to getting his own way,” unquote. Let me sum up my own possession on the ANC’s move from centre left to centre right on economic issues. I am not persuaded by those authors who accuse the heads of the ANC’s Department of Economic policy, men like Trevor Manuel, Tito Mboweni, and Alec Irwin, those who accuse them of intentional betrayal or sellout, and by extension, nor did Mandela intentionally betray his party or sell out his principles. Rather, once he accepted the business-friendly, investment-seeking line after Davos, he then used his virtually impregnable standing within the party to defend the new position. The main role played by Mandela and his adversary come partner de Klerk during negotiations was to market the grand historical compromise.

They embodied and they translated that process into a credible vision and a morally legible narrative. Now, some of my comments this evening may have been more critical of Madiba than you’re expecting, I’d be interested to know. But I didn’t want to come here and just deliver a praise poem or recite a eulogy. That is all too easy to do when it comes to Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela. Instead, I’ve spoken as an historian asking the kind of critical questions that my discipline does. Even so, 10 years after his death, I remain utterly convinced of his centrality to the transition from apartheid to democracy and of the importance of his impact upon events and on other people over many years. And to conclude, I want to make two basic points about Mandela. And these are points that that Born Free narrative overlooks or dismisses. And the points that are also lost sight of in those who canonise the man in the cult of Mandela, in which he is loaded with a symbolic burden so limitless as to deny the actual historic actor any credible meaning. The first of my two points is the briefest reminder of why Mandela is an important historic figure. And then secondly, I want to say something about his agency, about why and how he became so. As a political leader Mandela’s historical stature is assured beyond question or caval. As a nationalist leader his role in South African history is comparable to those of Atatürk, Nasser, Nehru, Nkrumah, Senghor or Ho Chi Minh as a single figure most closely associated with independence from colonial rule. In the South African case with the end of white minority rule. His African nationalism, especially as honed during the prison years, demanded full and equal citizenship for all and an end to any form of racial discrimination. He embraced non-racialism, the rule of law and constitutionalism.

And for a decade after his release, Mandela was negotiator, he was symbol of transition, and he became head of state. And it is his role in the mid-1990s that will secure his historical reputation. He came to personify the dynamics at play in securing a negotiated outcome to an extraordinary degree. Although his relationship with de Klerk was fractious and edgy, he remained willing to share the limelight with the other man. For instance, when they shared the Nobel Peace Prize in 1993. It was Mandela who swallowed his indignation with the role Chief Buthelezi had played, persuaded him to take part in the election and rewarded him with a cabinet position in the government of national unity. It was Mandela who engaged with the Africana Right much to the consternation of his own party’s executive, and who established a personal rapport with General Constand Viljoen. Viljoen’s decision six weeks before the election to take part in the ballot undoubtedly decreased the danger of a Latin American-style military coup. Some have argued that Mandela’s most important act as president was to step down after a single term, decisively breaking an African nationalist mould of presidency for life and single-party rule. But beyond that, Madiba’s own beliefs, and his own political style stimulated civic participation and democratic deliberation. Tom Lodge says that it was through his evident delight in everyday contact with ordinary people that Mandela encouraged his compatriots to behave as assertive citizens. He was far more open to criticism and debate than his successor presidents Mbeki and Zuma were.

He not only referred constantly to collective decision-making, he was willing to be outvoted. And his loyally respect for the negotiated constitution was unfeigned. Mandela, in other words, was a Democrat both in principle and in practise. My old boss, Jakes Gerwel, was perhaps closer to Mandela during his years in office and retirement than anyone else. He was head of his office and he then headed his foundation. And he explained Mandela’s democracy, thus. I’m quoting, “He had this genuine belief "that human beings were essentially good doing beings, "that is beings who do good,” unquote. And because there is good in others, it was, Mandela believed, incumbent on the individual to recognise this and to reciprocate and to do good to others. A simple but effective moral compass. Politicians don’t usually enjoy a standing as ethical exemplars or moral titans, but Nelson Mandela did. He was an acute strategist, and as I’ve suggested, a consummate political performer, a master of the political gesture, able to persuade, disarm and charm: a role for which he had developed the perfect personality. And he was able, like all brilliant nationalist politicians, to speak to very different audiences effectively at once. And yet beyond this political repertoire, it was the extent to which his personal private attributes suffused his public or political life that made him such a compelling figure. He was, John Carlin has written, “He was in the habit "of being generous, respectful, "courteous and kind,” unquote. And he consciously projected such behaviour and his decency, his integrity, and his respect for others, underpinned his political and moral authority. Mandela’s personality was both powerful and elusive. He was hard to know, but easy to love, and he commanded extraordinary levels of admiration and affection. And scholars ultimately must understand and explain this rare combination. Joel Netshitenzhe was Mandela’s head of communications and his principal’s speech writer. And in his obituary of Madiba, there’s a striking phrase, “He is the archetypal symbol of unfinished business.” And scholarly work on Mandela, remembering Mandela, reassessing Mandela, remains active, ongoing, and very far from finished. Thank you.

Q&A and Comments:

Let me visit the Q&A’s.

Myrna Ross: “Richard Stengel is now a frequent "political commentator on U.S. television.” Oh, I didn’t know that.

Mike: “Ironically the ANC efforts, which created "and promoted the Mandela superhero image "simultaneously were responsible for building "his unassailable political capital, "which allowed him ultimately to float "some political aspirations.” I think that’s probably accurate. Mandela had a very interesting relationship with the ANC over 50 years, whereas he was ostentatiously loyal and faithful to the ANC and claimed that he was, you know, a servant of the movement. And yet on a number of absolutely key moments, he took individual decisions and made individual actions at odds with current ANC policies.

Q: “How do I think,” asks Elaine Schneider, “how do I think he would’ve thought about the letter "from the Hamas leadership thanking the ANC "and the South African people for their ongoing support "and the way that they’re following "in the steps of Nelson Mandela?”

A: I think he would’ve been appalled at such opportunism, and I think it’s worth remembering that the ANC, as an armed movement, that the MK was one of the first guerrilla movements to sign the Geneva Conventions on warfare. Very different.

Q: Barry Epstein, “What went wrong? "Is there any hope, in your opinion, "for the future of South Africa? "Will there ever be a government "that helps the poor?”

A: Barry, we’d need a long afternoon for me to answer any of those properly. Let me just take, “Is there any hope for the future?” There is hope, but the hope is that change will come. The hope is that politics will be changed from below. I do not think that the ANC in its current guise or the current opposition parties have the capacity to place South Africa on a different footing.“ I am encouraged, it might seem an odd thing to say, I’m encouraged by the fact that South Africa has very, very large numbers of young people because there is a literature that knows that countries with large cohorts of young people tend to be more dynamic and more open to change.

Q: Jill Murray asks: "Was there a moral tipping point?”

A: Is this in terms of the what went wrong? I think probably for a majority of South Africans that tipping point must have been reached sometime in the last 15 years, before COVID.

Yehuda said: “I mentioned foreign policy,” much as Yehuda admires Mandela, he gathers that in the late '90S he initiated moves to share nuclear technology with Iran, presumably as part of repaying the non-aligned nations. I was appalled, and this is topical. I really don’t know any details about that. I think it’s very important to remember that South Africa was one of the first countries to disarm and destroy its own nuclear armaments. It’s one of the first things that the ANC did when it came to power.

Reeva Forman, thank you very much for your appreciation. Rita and Bridget too.

Q: Where did all this money go, was it ever helped to use the poor?

A: There’s two lots of money that I spoke about, fundraising for the ANC, probably not in any very direct sense was used to help the poor. His foundations and Graca’s foundation, which he raised those funds for after being president do, I suppose, fairly conventional philanthropy; scholarships, grants and assistance to the poor.

“Many years,” says Arlene Goldberg, “many years ago I saw Mandela on the Opera Winfrey show. My first impression of him was the phoney self-promoting opportunist you describe. My opinion was never mentioned until now because he was superhuman to everyone else. Well, yeah, I think if one places the super humanity aside what I call the mythic Mandela, I’m not sure I would call him phoney and self-promoting. I’ve talked about his mask and his performativity, but those are something slightly different from phoniness.

And maybe let me just read something that I wrote and didn’t have time to say. "At every stage of his life, he decided who he wanted to be "and he created the appearance "and then the reality of that person. "He became who we wanted to be.” That’s the performativity that I was talking about. I’m interested that you had that impression. I believe he’s very tired when he appeared on the Winfrey Show.

And somebody has forwarded a transcript, “Mandela: The Lost Tapes”, his conversations with Richard Stengel. Rita, thank you for that.

“I haven’t mentioned Rhodesia/Zimbabwe, "especially as an example "of a new country’s passage from white-dominated economy "to a fully black majority dominated economy. "Surely Mandela was fully aware of the outcome "and was anxious to find another path "and a more successful outcome.” I don’t think that Mandela engaged very much with Rhodesia/Zimbabwe. Thabo Mbeki, his deputy and his successor certainly did and saw Zimbabwe partly as a warning, as a warning and partly as an ally and went out his way to defend Zimbabwe. But some of the exile leadership who had lived in; Zambia, Tanzania and New Zimbabwe actually learned some lessons from those and were anxious not to make similar mistakes.

Dawn, thank you. Howard, thank you very much.

Q: And Barbara. Barbara Abrams asked, “Do you think Mandela adequately provided "for his succession?”

A: That’s a complicated one. He originally intended to be succeeded by a young trade unionist and brilliant negotiator called Cyril Ramaphosa. He then fell out with the UDF leadership, including Ramaphosa, basically over their critique of Winnie, and Thabo Mbeki became a successor almost by default.

Sylvia says, “Mandela is like Moses, "it would take 40 years to create a nation. "Maybe he’s been proved correct. His record as a family man, I can’t spend any time, but it’s fairly dismal, I’m afraid. And part of that is because he was taken away from his family for 27 years, but even before that, his record was a complicated one. I think read Jonny Steinberg’s book on that. And he was never a very effective father, especially in later years, and his children have written about that.

Could I thank everybody for their questions and comments and the kindness of some of your comments and say how much I’ve enjoyed doing these presentations with you. Thank you very much.