I believe that in each of us there is a Nelson Mandela waiting to be unleashed, writes Fikile-Ntsikelelo Moya.
Durban - Humans tend to fall into two broad categories. We are either self-deprecating or we have an exaggerated sense of self.
Many of those arguing that former president Nelson Mandela was a sell-out because he did not oversee a political settlement they would have been happy with, tend to fall in the latter category. Many of them would not last 27 months in prison, let alone 27 years.
Unlike Mandela, they would not step up if asked who would volunteer to lead a campaign to defy unjust laws knowing what the consequences would be.
They would be the last ones to give up their comfortable lives and young families for their beliefs, even if they knew that their choices could end up in death.
So whatever your views about Mandela and the settlement that gave us the post-1994 South Africa might be, calling Mandela a sell-out or a terrorist is a reflection of that opinion holder’s ignorance rather than an objective fact.
This is not to say that Mandela ushered in a perfect dispensation, especially not for those on whose behalf he took up the cudgels.
Of all the things that can be correctly contested about his legacy, his ability to place his head on the chopping block is beyond any doubt.
But this piece is not intended to discuss Mandela’s legacy. It is about challenging the Mandela in you. I believe that in each of us there is a Nelson Mandela waiting to be unleashed.
Going back to a point I made earlier, people tend to be either self-deprecating or to exaggerate what they can realistically achieve.
The problem, as British philosopher Bertrand Russell told us, is that fools are always certain of themselves and the wiser so full of doubt. The wise are too self-deprecating.
They have allowed for humility to go their heads.
All of us live in a world that can do with some kind of activism for positive change. It can be as close as being in your own family or in a faraway country few of us have even heard of.
We can all stand for something if we choose to.
It does not need to be anything dramatic. It does not need to be an ideal for which you are prepared to die, if needs be.
It could be something as simple as refusing to be part of conversations that celebrate racism, sexism, homophobia or any form of bigotry. It could be in defence of the defenceless, such as children or the environment.
Like Mandela, you should be able to live with consequences of your choices. I am certain Mandela knew too well that it was never going to be easy. I would not be surprised if he was met with stern resistance even among his closest relatives and friends.
One of the most underplayed elements of Mandela’s life was the ability to change when the facts changed.
I find that many of us are beholden to the ideas we once expressed in public. We tend to think that if we changed our ideas we would then prove ourselves to be inconsistent.
We stubbornly hold on to views we now no longer have belief in or that have been overtaken by new facts, for no other reason than that we think we are preserving our reputation as men and women of firm resolve.
Mandela enlisted his services as Umkhonto we Sizwe’s first commander in chief because he believed in the violent overthrow of a recalcitrant and racist regime, but was the first to be available for a peaceful settlement when an opportunity arose.
It is easier to believe Mandela was changed by prison than to say he allowed for his mind and senses to take him where they would.
The greatest form of cowardice must be to fear thinking out of your comfort zone because you do not trust what your new thoughts might demand of you.
Again, Madiba knew he would not please everyone with his choices but made them nonetheless.
Madiba was also a flawed man. He made errors of judgement in his personal and political life.
As Constitutional Court Judge Edwin Cameron reminded us, Madiba did not use his time in office to lend his considerable weight to the fight against Aids and its attached stigma.
It was only after he left office that he went against his successor, former president Thabo Mbeki, and spoke freely and authoritatively about Aids and its stigma.
His reputation as a ladies’ man in his heyday leaves many of us not knowing what to make of reports that come from time to time of someone claiming to be Madiba’s offspring.
We hardly talk about these things, because we have sanctified Madiba. It is precisely this sanctification that prevents us from recognising the Madiba in us.
If, like Mandela, we could see beyond our human frailties, but concentrated on the positive legacies we are capable of, who knows what we could achieve?
* Moya is the editor of The Mercury. Follow him on Twitter @fikelelom.or email him at [email protected]
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