Our leader of delegation, the distinguished Professor Ms Joyce Befu, MG 66, Most Excellent Grand Achiever (Mega-1) and reputedly Malawi’s most travelled woman, has been following the testimonies, questions and pleas emerging from the inquiry into the Chikangawa plane crash that claimed the life of our beloved Vice-President in 2024.
She has reserved her comment on the proceedings but observes that when findings appear to be moving in an unexpected direction, it is natural for the chairperson of an inquiry to show visible frustration. That observation is not a comment, for comments are value-laden statements. She will certainly comment at a later stage.
Today, however, we reflect on Nelson Mandela’s remarkable transition from commander of the armed struggle under Umkhonto we Sizwe to peacemaker and commander-in-chief of South Africa’s defence forces.
When South Africa’s first black president died in December 2013, the world united in celebrating the life of a man who dedicated himself to building a multicultural, multiracial and multi-ethnic nation. Mandela remains one of the most quoted political figures of the 20th century.
How did a man once labelled a terrorist by the United States and the United Kingdom become so influential that Arabs, Jews, Chinese, Cubans, Europeans, Russians, Americans, Brazilians and Africans spoke with one voice in mourning his death? Mandela reminded the world of a principle it already knew but often neglected: reconciliation.
Some believe Mandela entered prison as an angry and radical middle-aged man but emerged after 27 years transformed by reflection and experience.
In prison, Mandela learnt that the jailer and the prisoner were not entirely different. In a sense, both were imprisoned. He learnt that whether tall or short, black or white, prisoners shared the same limitations on freedom imposed by incarceration.
He learnt that men and women differed less than society often imagined and that divisions based on ethnicity and race were equally artificial. The Zulu, the Xhosa, the English and the Afrikaners were all victims of mutual hatred and suspicion.
Most importantly, Mandela came to understand that South Africa’s greatest problems were the apartheid political system and the unfair distribution of resources rather than race itself.
Therefore, when he became president in 1994, Mandela preached peace and reconciliation. In his inaugural address, he echoed the ideals he had expressed almost three decades earlier, declaring that he remained prepared to die for a South Africa where people of all races could live, work, eat and advance humanity together in peace.
Had Mandela allowed hatred of his jailers to guide him, or sought revenge against black leaders such as General Bantu Holomisa and the late Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi, who had opposed the African National Congress under the apartheid order, the South Africa that emerged would have been far more divided than it is today.
Before and during the early years of Mandela’s presidency, the ANC and Buthelezi’s Inkatha Freedom Party fought a bitter struggle for political dominance. To outsiders, it appeared to be another African ethnic conflict, with Xhosa and Zulu communities confronting one another.
Had Mandela refused to work with Buthelezi during that fragile period of nation building, South Africa’s democratic transition might not have succeeded. Equally, had he failed to reassure white South Africans that they belonged in the new nation, the country’s history could have taken a very different path.
Mandela’s greatness lay in his commitment to forgiveness and reconciliation. Nations and kingdoms throughout history have depended on reconciliation to move forward. Reconciliation builds peace, peace creates stability and stability makes prosperity possible.
Mandela understood a simple truth: vengeance breeds hatred, and hatred destroys peace and progress.
Reconciling with ourselves is equally important, for no matter how important we become in society, none of us will bury ourselves. We depend on one another.
That is why it is disturbing that the nation for which Mandela suffered, and for which many African countries sacrificed and campaigned, should now witness acts of xenophobia. Claims about immigration papers are often little more than a smokescreen.
If Africans had always been xenophobic, Oliver Tambo would never have received refuge, protection and a Malawian identity during his years in exile.
Before acting out of prejudice or hostility toward foreigners, South Africans and Africans alike should remember the values Mandela stood for.
Xenophobia is not merely an attack on migrants. It is a betrayal of Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela’s dream of a world founded on reconciliation.
