Did he sell the blacks out?
Racial discrimination and the domination of the
black race in South Africa started with the arrival of Jan Van Ribbeck at the
Cape of in 1652. When Apartheid in the form that it existed between 1948 to the
early 1990s was introduced, there was already in place systemic subjugation of
the blacks by the white imperial forces for close to 3 centuries. What this
means is that by the time that Mandela was assuming the Presidency in 1994,
this system which structurally and institutionally disadvantaged black people
had been religiously enforced for over 3 centuries. It is naïve to expect these
historical injustices to have been reversed within the first 5 years of Madiba’s
presidency let alone during the negotiation period of the CODESA process. When
a task is so ridiculously monumental, one is setting himself up for failure if
he decides to do everything at once. Pragmatism dictates that one takes a step
at a time. It was President Mandela’s judgment that what South Africa needed
after centuries of the injustice of apartheid was a period of reconciliation
and a coming together. That he needed to build a nation. This is the task he
set apart for himself and one which he executed with amazing grace.
This does not mean, however, that it is illegitimate
to inquire whether or not more could have been done to end the economic
subjugation of the blacks. This question is particularly imperative when one
considers that the Freedom Charter, the ANC’s [and other liberation movements’]
statement of core principles committed the organisation to the nationalisation
of industry and the redistribution of land. While most of the charter’s demands found
their way into the new Constitution, these 2 core demands were conspicuous by their
absence. The ANC has subsequently rejected blanket nationalisation of industry
preferring instead to ‘increase state ownership but only in sectors where it
deems appropriate.’ See the Party’s 2012 Mangaung Conference resolutions.
There are several things to be said here. First
of all, it would appear to me that the Freedom Charter was a statement of
aspirations. Goals which those in the struggle movement hoped to see realized. And
while this does not in any way lessen the significance of the document, as
evidenced by how much it influenced the content of the new Constitution, I doubt
if those in the struggle movement thereby irrevocably bound themselves to live
by its contents regardless of the exigencies of the moment. It should be
obvious, one imagines, that the policy that anchors a struggle movement will
often be markedly different from that which informs the hard business of
governing a country. Secondly, the ANC took the Charter to a negotiating table
through the CODESA process. If all its demands had been forced down the throat
of the National Party [as would largely have been the case if the 2 keys demands
above had been accepted] then one wonders if the process would still have
qualified as a negotiated settlement. We can debate whether the ANC conceded
too much ground during the negotiations, considering that the other demands in
the Charter were largely basic human rights demands anyway. But what is not
debatable is that in any negotiation worth its name, compromise is inevitable. It
is worth speculating, however, what would have become of South Africa if there
had been a radical departure in economic policy in 1994. Would its people have
been better off compared to their current station if the mines and other
industries had been nationalised and if the land had been redistributed? How best
would this have been carried out? Would the government have been assured of the
availability of legitimate force to enforce some aspects of this reform
considering that the Police and military formations were still [practically]]
largely controlled by the whites? I can only speculate.
This, however, is not to suggest that Madiba’s
arm may not have been twisted during the negotiations. Capital in South Africa
was largely in the hands of white people and its naïve to think that they would
have given it up on a silver platter. They naturally pushed back against the
more radical demands encapsulated in the Freedom Charter. This they did with some
success. And let nothing detract from the fact that the social and economic condition
of the average black man [the overwhelming majority] is nothing less than a
scandal. For the majority of blacks, the train has really not left the station.
They continue to wallow in abject poverty, stricken by disease and a life of
violent crime. This is in sharp contrast to what goes on the other side of
South Africa. Where the dizzyingly wealthy, the majority of whom are white but
who since 1994 [thanks to the government’s affirmative action and pure
corruption] have been joined by a tiny group of blacks, live in opulence behind
high-electric-wire-topped- security walls. The situation was starkly captured by
South African Deputy President Kgalema Motlanthe on December 9, 2013 in his
address to the Joint session of South African Parliament commemorating Madiba
when he said: “Why then do the majority of
the world’s people, the great unwashed, live in abject poverty when a fair
distribution of the world’s resources would not even minimise the material
comfort of those who wallow in luxury at the top of social articulation?
We cannot claim to follow in the footsteps of this inspiring leader when we
have these shocking levels of poverty sitting cheek by jowl with fabulously
dazzling material riches known to human history.”
It should be fair, in the circumstances, to ask
what, if at any, was Mandela’s contribution to this shameful condition? Does he
bear any responsibility as a result of his omissions during the transition
negotiations and his term as President? All these are fair inquires. What is
not fair is to omit the context in embarking on the inquiry. When it comes to
South Africa, I do not, with respect, think that it should be permissible for
anyone to simply wave Malcom X, Sankara and or Mugabe [you can add your
favourite ‘revolutionaries to this list!] and think that they have won the argument.
The TRC and accountability for apartheid atrocities
Lastly, we look at the criticism that Madiba failed to punish the
perpetrators of apartheid era atrocities. The argument here is that the TRC
with its emphasis on restorative justice failed to accommodate the retributive
elements of the penal system. That folks who were responsible for horrible
crimes during apartheid should have been hauled before the Courts, tried for
their evil deeds and accordingly punished. This argument deserves some sympathy,
one must say, seeing as it is that retribution and vengeance remain the
legitimate aims of any criminal justice system. Rather simplistically, let me
rehash how the TRC worked. Perpetrators of human rights violations were
encouraged to come forward and essentially render a full account of their evil
deeds. A full and frank account rendered one eligible for a pardon of sorts and
immunity from criminal prosecution. The victims would fully participate during the
process and were at liberty to either support or oppose the application for
amnesty. It’s quite accurate, therefore, that healing and restoration was at
the centre of this process as opposed to retribution and vengeance.
Again context matters here. Apartheid was a system that had survived for
over 4 decades. It was fully entrenched in the country and literally pervaded
every aspect of life. And what more; it had the backing of the law in South
Africa. Accordingly some if not a lot of what happened under the system,
especially on the government’s side, had the colour of law. Perhaps there would
have been a danger of retrospective criminalisation if acts which were lawful
at the time were punished at a later date. Secondly, rules of criminal
responsibility are such that the criminal justice net would have hauled quite a
ludicrously huge number of people into its process. This is so because
accomplices [aiders, enablers, procurers, abettors, counsellors] would all have
been fixed with criminal responsibility. Considering how pervasive apartheid
was one would surmise that there would have been droves and droves of white
people being hauled before the courts to answer criminal justice. These were
going to be criminal trials on an industrial scale. [Though the struggle
movement was also responsible for some atrocities, this pales in comparison to
the scale of the government inflicted atrocities on the African people.] Inevitably,
this was going to take a racial tinge [of victors’ justice] which was going to
affect social cohesion in the long run. But above all, what must be emphasised
is that the TRC system was a form of
justice. The fact that it sought to restore and heal as opposed to exact
vengeance does not make it any lesser form of justice. At the end of the day,
retribution and forgiveness are all moral choices and they can be no rational
basis for saying that one is superior to the other. Sight must not be lost of
the fact that there was full victim participation in the process and that some
of the perpetrators were in fact denied amnesty and were eventually prosecuted.
In some cases, however, the victims themselves supported the amnesty
application. I personally would have loved to see more prosecutions of the perpetrators
of the especially heinous crimes. And the fact of the matter is that this is
what the majority of the black people would have wanted. Given such kind of
pressures, it is amazing that a decision to go against the populist tide can be
seen as a sign of weakness in a leader. I should think it takes a particular
kind of moral courage for a politician to stand for a position which is
unpopular.
The fallible giant…
Let me finish by quoting from Barack Obama’s eulogy delivered on December
10, 2013 at Madiba’s memorial service:-
“Given the
sweep of his life, and the adoration that he so rightly earned, it is tempting
then to remember Nelson Mandela as an icon, smiling and serene, detached from
the tawdry affairs of lesser men. But Madiba himself strongly resisted
such a lifeless portrait. Instead, he insisted on sharing with us his doubts
and fears; his miscalculations along with his victories. "I'm not a
saint," he said, "unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps
on trying."
It was
precisely because he could admit to imperfection – because he could be so full
of good humor, even mischief, despite the heavy burdens he carried - that we
loved him so. He was not a bust made of marble; he was a man of flesh and
blood – a son and husband, a father and a friend. That is why we learned
so much from him; that is why we can learn from him still. For nothing he
achieved was inevitable. In the arc of his life, we see a man who earned
his place in history through struggle and shrewdness; persistence and
faith. He tells us what’s possible not just in the pages of dusty history
books, but in our own lives as well.”
Madiba was a fallible human being. Human greatness is never measured by
how infallible one is. If that was the case, it would no longer be human greatness but something else. It is
the human triumph over monumental adversity that defines human greatness. That unwavering
commitment to principle. That simplicity, purity and rawness of righteous desire.
To simply be a man. With equal opportunities. Where one’s skin colour is of no
more significance in the quest for realisation of one’s potential than one’s
sex, tribe, gender or sexual orientation. And the colossal personal sacrifice
made to live that principle. 27 years away from what most of us take for
granted. “A son denied the opportunity to bury his mother and a grieving father
a chance to bury his son.” Shattered family lives… So let there be no mistake.
Madiba, the fallible giant, lived his life with remarkable nobility. He did his
duty. The world was a better place because of the sacrifices he made in it. And
the son of Qunu has rightly earned his place in the ‘pantheons of history.’
