“Death is something inevitable. When a man has done what he considers to be his duty to his people and his country, he can rest in peace. I believe I have made that effort and that is, therefore, why I will sleep for the eternity.” — Mandela, 1994 (The Authorised Book of Quotations)
by Herman Manson (@marklives) There are few occasions when the media — cynical, analytical, often aloof and, for the sake of the sanity of journalists, often removed from the raw emotion of the moment — suspends all that which separates it from us. But it does happen. It’s supposed to be happening now, at this moment. Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela has left.
As the news arrived, so did a deluge of stories, special broadcasts and dedicated microsites. But they rang false. I know those words, “He is dead,” had been written months ago, while he lay in hospital. The websites had been coded, the productions wrapped, ready to come alive, ironically, on the news of his death.
On the morning after his death, I had to turn away from the media onslaught. I did not want to read the beautiful words of literary geniuses or the Twitter tributes of celebrities. The endless looping of archived video and preprepared ‘tribute’ shows didn’t appeal.
I had been on leave in the Eastern Cape. I walked away and onto a deserted beach. The grey of the sky and the ocean set a sombre tone, and an honesty I missed in the initial flurry of media activity. Later I would see the front page of Die Burger headlined with the simple words “Hy is weg” (He is gone) — the first time any media production would touch an emotional nerve.
The point I’m making is that the media can’t afford to live in the same bubble our elected representatives seem to have wrapped themselves. While slick production has its pros, it can’t be bested by authenticity. I think the man we prepare to honour proved that better than most.
Mandela was a remarkable leader, a representative and living embodiment of our shared hopes; but the struggle for equality and the protection of basic human rights were fought by many fathers, mothers and children, and is far from ended.
In “Conversations with Myself,” a memoir based on a collection of Mandela’s journals and letters, he is quoted as writing, “One issue that deeply worried me in prison was the false image I unwittingly projected to the outside world; of being regarded as a saint. I never was one, even on the basis of the earthly definition of a saint as a sinner who keeps trying.”
His words serve as a reminder of the complexities of the man and how he viewed his own place in the world. We would do well to honour its wisdom as we pause to consider his life and legacy, and the state of our people and country.
Nelson Mandela. Free at last.
Hermaneutics is a column by MarkLives.com editor Herman Manson (@marklives). It indicates opinion as much as reporting.