nelson mandela 1918-2013

Being a visitor in a country in mourning is an indescribable experience. The news of Nelson Mandala's death was released here late on Thursday evening. South Africans immediately started gathering in places of importance in his life and memorial spaces here in the city of Johannesburg and its suburbs.

His home in the suburb of Houghton is a short drive from my guest house. I went early Saturday morning to pay my respects. Flowers, tributes, and burning candles were already creating an informal memorial. 

I went back in the early afternoon. The number of visitors had substantially increased; and there was a spirit of celebration. There was chanting and dancing. At one point the crowd started singing the national anthem and there were visible signs of emotion on many faces. 

I stopped back to Nelson Mandela's home late on Sunday afternoon. By now the flowers were waist height, eight feet deep, and spanned the entire street. 

On Sunday the number of visitors outside his home was reported to be in the thousands. There is no way to describe or define the crowd, other than to say that in the spirit of Nelson Mandela all knew they would be welcomed and thus, all came. In the crowd, I heard a multitude of languages. In addition to English, I heard traditional African languages, French, Afrikaans, German, and some languages I didn't recognize. Every race and creed came to lay flowers, light candles, leave tributes, and celebrate a life.

As a visitor there is a pressure to bear witness - to transfer the experience of this world event to photographs and words for those that are not here. I am in no doubt that the hundreds of the members of the national and international press corps that are here will have better photographs and more eloquent words. But for those that asked, here are a few words and images. 

I overheard a mother respond to her child's question regarding the purpose of the flowers and candles with these words, "We want to celebrate that Madiba is at peace with the ancestors." In the end, that is perhaps the best description of the events taking place here in South Africa this week. We are celebrating the legacy of a life selflessly dedicated to the advancement of a country and its people.

There will be time next week and in the months that follow to discuss and determine how this 20-year old democracy will fare when Nelson Mandela's iconic role in the anti-apartheid struggle, powerful message of forgiveness, and charismatic personality begins to distance from the current day African National Congress. The struggle continues here and there are many days when it is not certain that the South Africans will have the will to carry on the work of Nelson Mandela and the many other freedom fighters. 

Page 1: NELSON MANDELA will state:-

The first lesson you learn while working in South Africa is "to never put off until tomorrow what you can do today." Underlying this advice is a recognition of a fragile, and often failing, infrastructure. For example, traffic lights rarely work two days in a row, city buses may or may not complete the entire scheduled route, ATMs may have cash, postal workers may deliver the mail, and so on. 

Thursday the LRC offices were without phone service; and today we worked without either phone service or internet access. Ironically, the office atmosphere was almost festive. To accomplish any work you had to walk down the hallway to an office and have an actual face-to-face conversation about a matter. As a result, there was much talking and movement that enlivened the halls. 

Instead of planned software trials, LRC's law librarian and I continued our sorting and organizing of the law library's collection. At one point, she opened her locked desk drawer and handed me this document to look at.  

It was a legal size document about 3/4 inch in depth, covered with a light blue cover and held together with three tarnishing staples. I noted the name George Bizos in the upper right corner. I thought she was showing it to me because I had enjoyed my Thursday lunch in the office "tea room" while in conversation with George Bizos about everything from US politics to growing avocados.

George Bizos

George Bizos is Nelson Mandela's attorney and an internationally renowned and respected human rights lawyer. On Monday the Marikana miners won legal funding for their case (a major legal matter in which he is involved) and on Wednesday he was named one of the 21 Icons of South Africa. Lunch conversation with a few office colleagues in the "tea room" on Thursday was just what he needed to round out his week. But I digress.

I gently opened the document. My first glance took in what looked to be the work of a manual typewriter on slightly graying bond style typewriter paper. Anyone over the age of 50 will remember that slightly slick paper on which we typed our college papers. The first words would stun me with their historical significance.

Just last night I had read these same words in Nelson Mandela's book, Long Walk to Freedom. I came to realize that I was looking at a typewritten draft of his statement to the court. He was the first defense witness at the 1964 "treason" trial. As I cautiously turned the pages, I noted Nelson Mandela's handwritten comments and marveled at his eloquence and passion. Less than two months later, at the age of 46, he would be sentenced to life in prison.

I had read these words the night before and been touched. Yet the ability to touch and marvel at this historical document made it so much more real.This draft of the statement is 60 pages long and includes original signatures. The statement concludes with this iconic passage. George Bizos is credited with adding the phrase "if need be." As noted in the 21 Icons of South Africa  photo caption, many believe it is these three words that resulted in the imposition of life sentences rather than the death penalty.

During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to this struggle of the African people. I have fought against white domination, and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die. 

This document and many other of LRC's historical documents have been digitized and preserved in the archives at the University of Witwatersrand (WITS) in Johannesburg, Gauteng, South Africa. 

Photographs in an Antique Store

I've been tasked with reorganizing and modernizing the LRC library. Before I can do such work, I have to find the library under all the random (one indoor tennis table) and other miscellaneous materials that have come to rest in the library. In addition, hundreds of case files from the closure of one LRC office, the relocation of the LRC National Office last year, and the normal offloading whenever an attorney leaves the practice group have ended up in the library. I don't ask "why." I simply suggest that this material is too important to be haphazardly shelved on any available empty library shelf and attack the problem. Since we can't reorganize the library without getting the case files boxed and sent to storage, I spent the last few days organizing case files.

Although a quick read is all that is necessary to dispose of duplicate materials and confirm the file contents are where they should be, it is impossible to remain unaffected. These case files are unlike any that I ever encountered in my law practice. Reading the case files gave me a glimpse into the lives of just a few of the victims of apartheid and its residual effects.

In the last few days, I have read the stories of farm workers who have worked the land and grazed cattle for decades only to be evicted at the whim of the current or new owner; the stories of those who have suffered from acts of violence simply because of their race; and the stories of those who waited years for a Truth and Reconciliation Commission amnesty hearing to learn the fate of a loved one.

Personal affidavits of illegally displaced and evicted farm workers are powerful stories that detail their historical and generational ties to the land in order to establish a right to continue to stay on the land.Truth and Reconciliation Commission files include transcripts of the painful and horrific confessions of the aggressors and the relieved, pragmatic, and often soulful forgiving statements of the aggrieved. Some files reflect the frustration of the LRC attorney who is unable to obtain justice for his or her client. In the end, all the files contain ghosts of one kind or another.

Finally, the stories are encapsulated into organized files that are closed, stacked and waiting to be bundled into boxes.

Organized, closed, awaiting bundling.

Last they are bundled into boxes, labeled, and moved to a storage room filed with hundreds of identical boxes.

 

In one of these boxes is the story of a young black university lecturer who was brutally shot and killed by the police in 1995. The LRC represented his family in its quest to discover what really happened. In 2001, the family was finally informed that the Magistrate had ruled that the police were not liable and that there was no wrong doing. In the same file you will find an expression of frustration by the LRC attorney to the family for his inability to obtain justice for them.

There is a danger when stories move into folders and into boxes in a storage room. In boxes, the stories lose the ability to evoke emotions and inspire others to continue the fight for justice. They become those bins of black and white photographs in antique stores that we fingertip through but walk away from easily. Unfortunately, South Africa is in deep need of the inspiration and motivation of these stories. The Constitution of South Africa is less than 20 years old and everyone here admits there is still a very long way to go. Unfortunately, the current leadership seems more interested in building palatial mansions and engaging in other scandals, than in moving the country forward.

Many South Africans appear to have forgotten Nelson Mandela's words:

I have walked that long road to freedom. I have tried 
not to falter; I have made missteps along the way.
But I have discovered the secret that 

after climbing a great hill, one only finds 
that there are many more hills to climb.
I have taken a moment here to rest, to steal a view

of the glorious vista that surrounds me, 
to look back on the distance that I have come. 
But I can rest only for a moment, 
for with freedom come responsibilities, 
and I dare not linger, for my long walk is not yet ended.