Eleven Mandela Moments

December 9, 2013 jeffkellylowenstein3

It´s been several days since Nelson Mandela died, and the tributes, analyses and discussions continue. I spoke on Saturday with former Truth and Reconciliation Commissioner Pumla Gobodo-Madikizela, who said that people are mixing grief with celebration in Mandela´s homeland of South Africa.

Today, at the presentation of Chile´s annual report on human rights, Director Lorena Fries took a moment to honor Mandela and the work he did throughout his life to advance the cause.

I´ve been thinking about Mandela moments myself for a couple of a reasons.

The first is that a series of minutes show many of the man´s different sides.

The second is that, in fact, we live minute to minute, and that the accumulation of these discrete instances are indeed what makes up a life.

Here are 11 points in Mandela´s life that have stayed with me during the nearly 30 years that I have learned from him and the sources of information from where they came.

I. From Boy to Man

Mandela was circumcised at age 16, marking his transition from boyhood to becoming a man. He describes the experience in Long Walk to Freedom, talking in typical fashion about how he felt other young men responded more promptly than he did:

I looked down and saw a perfect cut, clean and round like a ring. But I felt ashamed because the other boys seemed much stronger and firmer than I had been; they had called out more promptly than I had. I was distressed that I had been disabled, however briefly, by the pain, and I did my best to hide my agony. A boy may cry; a man conceals his pain.

I had now taken the essential step in the life of every Xhosa man. Now I might marry, set up my own home and plough my own field. I could now be admitted to the councils of the community; my words would be taken seriously.

II. Young Firebrand

Mandela has a section in Long Walk to Freedom in which he talks about telling Chief Albert Luthuli, then the president of the African National Congress, that he is afraid to confront the government.

I´m afraid to confront the government, Luthuli replies to the then-leader of the ANC Youth´s wing. I resign. You are now head of the ANC.

Mandela backed down.

III. Implacable and Unbroken Apartheid Opponent

Mandela appeared in full cultural garb for his closing statement at the Rivonia trial, at the end of which he and the other defendants were sentenced to life in prison.

He ended with the following words, which he repeated after his release in 1990, 27 years later:

“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.” [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CNewYDzeDg&w=420&h=315]

IV. Responding to Surprise Attacks.

In 1991 Mandela and the ANC engaged in negotiations with F.W. deKlerk´s National Party. In a speech deKlerk attacked the ANC. Mandela strode to the front of the World Trade Center and responded in icy tones.

I said I would like to raise a matter of national importance, and I am happy you have given me the opportunity to do so. I am gravely concerned about the behaviour of Mr. de Klerk today. He has launched an attack on the African National Congress, and in doing so he has been less than frank. Even the head of an illegitimate, discredited, minority regime as his, has certain moral standards to uphold. He has no excuse, because he is a representative of a discredited regime, not to uphold moral standards.

The members of the Government persuaded us to allow them to speak last. They were very keen to say the last word here. It is now clear why they did so. And he has abused his position because he hoped that I would not reply. He was completely mistaken. I am replying now.

V. Enduring Personal Pain

In 1992, after his release from prison and before his election as South Africa’s president, Nelson Mandela announced that he and his wife Winnie Mandela were separating.

It was a remarkably public and poignant moment that concluded with Mandela’s saying, “Ladies and gentlemen – I hope you will appreciate how painful this is to me. And I would appreciate it if we could have no questions,” before walking stiffly out of the room.

VI. Pleading for Peace in the Face of Violence

Mandela took to national television in 1993 after charismatic and much-loved Communist leader Chris Hani was killed. His comments included the following:

"Tonight I am reaching out to every single South African, black and white, from the very depths of my being. A white man, full of prejudice and hate, came to our country and committed a deed so foul that our whole nation now teeters on the brink of disaster. A white woman, of Afrikaner origin, risked her life so that we may know, and bring to justice, this assassin. The cold-blooded murder of Chris Hani has sent shock waves throughout the country and the world. ... Now is the time for all South Africans to stand together against those who, from any quarter, wish to destroy what Chris Hani gave his life for – the freedom of all of us."

VII. On the Verge of Victory

Mandela entered FNB Stadium in Johannesburg shortly before the elections in April 1994 that would see him complete the journey from prisoner to president. The following song greeted him. The words mean, "Nelson Mandela, he brings us peace." For those who want to see more, go to Lee Hirsch´s impressive film, Amandla: A Revolution in Four-Part Harmony.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9g-VmqgRsaY&w=560&h=315]

VIII. Articulating the Hopes of a Nation

Mandela delivered his inaugural address in a blue three-piece suit shortly after winning the presidency and danced his trademark dance afterward.

He concluded his address with the following words:

We are both humbled and elevated by the honour and privilege that you, the people of South Africa, have bestowed on us, as the first President of a united, democratic, non-racial and non-sexist South Africa, to lead our country out of the valley of darkness.

We understand it still that there is no easy road to freedom.

We know it well that none of us acting alone can achieve success.

We must therefore act together as a united people, for national reconciliation, for nation building, for the birth of a new world.

Let there be justice for all.

Let there be peace for all.

Let there be work, bread, water and salt for all.

Let each know that for each the body, the mind and the soul have been freed to fulfill themselves.

Never, never and never again shall it be that this beautiful land will again experience the oppression of one by another and suffer the indignity of being the skunk of the world.

Let freedom reign.

The sun shall never set on so glorious a human achievement!

God bless Africa!

Thank you.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LnVffzyaf-Y&w=560&h=315]

IX. Embracing the Symbol of the Former Enemy

As part of its reintegration into the world´s sporting scene, South Africa hosted the 1995 World Cup. The home team won a dramatic 15-12 overtime victory against the vaunted All Blacks of New Zealand. Mandela donned the green Sprinbok jersey that previously had been the symbol for black South Africans of the oppressive apartheid regime.

His handshake with Springbok captain Francois Pienaar, the sicon of French Hugenots, is an iconic image to this day.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SL8WX7a-H2k&w=420&h=315]

X. Disarming Sense of Humor

This is an excerpt from a 1999 New York Times article that noted that Mandela called some of the opposition ¨Mickey Mouse parties":

`After the ''Mickey Mouse'' crack, one opposition leader, Tony Leon, shot back that Mr. Mandela was ''running a Goofy Government'' that had failed to deliver services.

A few weeks later, Mr. Mandela was visiting a friend in the hospital when he heard that Mr. Leon was also there, recovering from heart bypass surgery.

He approached Mr. Leon's bed from behind the curtains. ''Mickey Mouse,'' he called out in a deep voice, ''this is Goofy come to see you.''`

XI. Final Major Public Appearance

A beaming Mandela, then in his early 90s, made a dramatic appearance at the 2010 World Cup that South Africa also hosted. It was his last major public appearance.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXq7-hRbv9k&w=420&h=315]

Previous Posts about Nelson Mandela

December 6, 2013 jeffkellylowenstein3

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3HSahOZqYpQ&w=420&h=315] In the day since Nelson Mandela died, I looked into my archives of the blog and realized that I had written about the man known the world over as Madiba before.

A lot.

Here are links to some of my earlier posts about the late, great South African leader:

*On Nelson Mandela's Hospitalization and the State of South African society. Dec 5, 2012

*Happy 93rd Birthday, Nelson Mandela. July 18, 2011

*Nelson Mandela's Conversations with Himself. October 14, 2010

*Invictus and the Love of Country. May 23, 2010

*Fatima Meer on Nelson Mandela. March 12, 2010

*John Carlin's Playing the Enemy the Basis for Invictus Dec. 6, 2009 Includes an excellent comment by friend Dany Fleming.

*Nelson Mandela turns 91 Years Old July 20, 2009

RIP, Nelson Mandela

December 5, 2013 jeffkellylowenstein3

I have had the honor to learn from Nelson Mandela in innumerable ways during the past 28 years. In the mid-80s, I learned about the personal sacrifices he made to fight for the liberation of his people and the country. During this time I first became involved in taking the often awkward steps from considering injustice to doing something about it after being exposed to the brutality of apartheid during the state of emergency. Grappling with guilt at my various levels of privilege in American society, I somehow felt soothed by what I saw as the unalloyed moral clarity of black South Africans fighting against the evil white oppressive government. I hungered to go there and know that land.

In 1990, shortly after his release from Victor Verster prison, I took part of the afternoon off from selling Green Monster and Bleacher Creature t-shirts at Fenway Park to head down to the Esplanade with my best friend Vinnie D’Angelo. Hearing the unbowed Mandela thank, in his firm formal and heavily accented tones, “the peo-ple of Mass-a-shoe-setts” for their role in the anti-apartheid movement helped me understand humanity’s interconnectedness and the ceaseless struggle for justice that he continued to wage until his final breath.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2n3PTV7nElE&w=420&h=315]

In 1991, I learned about his fierce determination as he strode up to the front of the hall where negotiations were being held between Mandela’s African National Congress and F.W. deKlerk’s ruling National Party and answered the leader’s attack against the ANC.

“Even the head of an illegitimate, discredited, minority regime as his, has certain moral standards to uphold,” Mandela said in icy tones. “He has no excuse, because he is a representative of a discredited regime, not to uphold moral standards.

“And he has abused his position because he hoped that I would not reply. He was completely mistaken. I am replying now,” Mandela continued.

In 1994, I wept as I watched 89-year-old women being carried into voting booths they had waited a lifetime to enter. Dressed in a blue three-piece suit, Mandela demonstrated the importance of a leder’s words in articulating the hopes and standards of a wounded country emerging from its darkest time when he delivered his often-quoted, if not fully realized, injunction that, "Never, never and never again shall it be that this beautiful land will again experience the oppression of one by another."

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LnVffzyaf-Y&w=560&h=315]

In 1995, I realized a decade-long dream by living in Alan Paton’s Beloved Country. I taught and coached at the Uthongathi School, one of the nation’s first private multi-racial educational institutions.

It was one of the most important years of my life, and learning from Madiba was at the core.

My Fulbright exchange partner Vukani Cele got to meet then-President Bill Clinton.

I didn’t have the equivalent experience, but my education from Mandela continued nevertheless.

I had the privilege to witness the nation opening its wounds and delve into seemingly unspeakable public pain during the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that was a central element of Mandela’s effort to help move the nation forward, and, later, a model for the world.

This would not have been possible had Mandela not been able to master himself and his anger, to study the language of the Afrikaaners who imprisoned him for close to 30 years so that he could understand them, and to reach out not just to their leaders, but to their heart in his embrace of the Springboks, the rugby team who won an improbable victory over New Zealand’s mighty All Blacks just months before I arrived in August 1995.

I saw Mandela in person at a soccer tournament, and could scarcely believe the childlike joy he elicited in the tens of thousands of people who practically burst with joy at the sight of their leader driving around and waving to them.

I watched him dazzle English royalty during a fundraising trip with his dancing while wearing one of his many famous multi-colored shirts, his fists moving from side to side as he swayed to the music.

I also learned about his sense of humor, not the least of which was his ability to laugh at himself.

That quality was on full display in 1998, when he traveled to Harvard to become the first African to receive an honorary degree from the country’s oldest, most prestigious university.

He concluded his remarks by telling the audience who had gathered in the Yard about a cheeky 5-year-old girl who had called him a stupid old man.

If you agree with her, I would ask you to be a bit more diplomatic than this young lady, he said with a smile.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Zh8otC-c3s&w=420&h=315]

Mandela continued to teach in how he retired from politics, leaving the presidency after one term when he could have easily won a second term because he wanted to strengthen the nation’s fledgling democracy.

He showed and lived the importance of speaking about even most taboo topics, talking about AIDS after he buried his son Makgatho, who had died of the disease.

He published a book of watercolors, supported dozens of charities and served on the global Council of Elders.

He even taught in his death.

Last December, Dunreith and I were with dear friend Ntuthuko Bhengu, whom I met during the year Vukani was working in Newton, when Madiba was going through yet another death scare.

Each time prepares us for the inevitable, Ntuthuko told me.

Today, mercifully, it came.

And, with it, the beginning of the sleep in the permanent peace he has so richly earned.

Of course, Mandela was not perfect.

No one is.

But, perhaps more than anyone during my close to half-century of life, he lived a near-perfect blend of service, integrity, leadership and humanity.

The world, and we, are better because of him.

Siyabonga kakulu, Madiba.

Usi Letela Uxolo.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9g-VmqgRsaY&w=560&h=315]

Chilean Chronicles, Part 93: On Albie Sachs and Giving Thanks

November 27, 2013 jeffkellylowenstein3

I’ve learned a lot from Albie Sachs over the years.

The South African freedom fighter and classical music lover whose taking the other as a Supreme Court Justice elicited a tear from then-President Nelson Mandela endured solitary confinement and a car bomb in Mozambique that cost him much of his right arm and part of his vision.

I first saw him at a conference in New Haven, Connecticut that Marc Skvirsky and I attended with Harvard Law School Dean Martha Minow. Among many important things he said that day was that although Mandela had near-perfect pitch with the people he led, one should not mistake the leader for the source of the victory he and so many others had dedicated their lives to winning.

Speaking in his mellifluous baritone voice, his left arm moving animatedly, Sachs also cautioned against moral relativism.

Apartheid was evil, he said. We were better. And we won.

A few years later, he spoke at a community event for Facing History and Ourselves around his book, The Free Diary of Albie Sachs, a work that chronicled his six-week journey with then-partner, now wife, Vanessa September, to London and other European capitals.

In his opening comments Sachs talked about the dreams that he had had as a younger man of living as a free man in a country that was being transformed from a site of intense evil to a thoroughgoing democracy with many official languages, one of the world’s most far-reaching and inclusive constitutions and open debate of the questions of the day.

He also talked about living with a woman with whom he wanted to spend his life.

These dreams, he explained, had all come true.

Although I understood the meaning of Sachs’ words, I didn’t feel them the way he seemed to.

Now, I do.

There are moments, and I’ve been blessed to have a number of them recently, where I literally cannot believe the abundance of gifts and love I’m privileged to experience.

Where I wake up wondering not so much what I’m going to do, but which delicious set of options we’re going to explore together.

The past few weeks, which have seen Jon come here for a couple of weeks so that we can work on a project about Chile’s past, present and future.

A week later, Dad and Lee, whom we had seen in Argentina and Uruguay, were in for a week after their glorious two weeks plus tour that took through Argentina and down to the southernmost part of the continent before heading to the spectacular views of Torres del Paine, up into Chiloe and meeting us again in Santiago.

There are the gains that the students in my Data Journalism class have made, the pair of conversations in the next couple of weeks sponsored by the Fulbright Commission in which I’ll share preliminary results about my research into the nation’s 2009 Transparency Law, the news we’ve heard about the memorial event in Essen led by the indefatigable Gabriele Thimm that she told us was the best ever and the plans we’re formulating to advance the project, the events that we are planning in Wellesley and Cambridge and Arica or Punta Arenas.

All that is beautiful, and one of the most meaningful parts for me and for us is that Aidan got here on Sunday for what will be a month together in Santiago, in Northern and Southern Chile and in Peru’s fabled Incan ruins of Machu Picchu.

He’s just returned from a semester in which he traveled to New Zealand, Australia, Indonesia and the United States before he set foot here. It’s a treat to spend any time with him, let alone such a concentrated dose, and, in parts at least, Internet-free zone.

Underneath all of these experiences is a sense of possibility and flow, of the great fortune of being in a space it feels deeply possible to successfully integrate family and friends and language and investigation and teaching and writing and networking and traveling and food and drink and discussion and applying for new opportunities and converting those that arise and working more and more to do what we all need to do in life, which is to steer the ship of our lives.

This is not to say that we live in a perfect world.

Far from it.

Indeed, some initial discussions with Aidan have only reminded us how deeply flawed the world is that we will leave to his generation.

Nor is it to say that I’ve always felt this way.

That, too, has not been the case.

Indeed, my appreciation of this moment is deepened not only because I am more aware than before of life’s finitude, but because this more profound sense of possibility and authority comes after years of having a different gut-level conviction.

So, as Hannukah begins, after we’ve had one Thanksgiving meal and before we’ve had another, with a series of Chilean adventures behind us and more ahead, with family having departed and our son here, the sun shining in a cloudless sky, the breeze rustling the curtains of the room where Dunreith and I are next to each other, I am immensely grateful for my life’s abundant gifts.

I imagine that wherever he is, Albie Sachs is giving thanks, too.

Chilean Chronicles, Part 77: Viva La Mundial

October 16, 2013 jeffkellylowenstein3

In the three months that we’ve been in Chile, we’ve seen events drenched in emotion. We’ve seen the agonizing pain of surviving loved ones holding up large black and white photos of their sons, husbands, uncles, daughters, and nieces who were disappeared during the Pinochet dictatorship in the 70s and have never returned.

We’ve seen the exuberance of Chileans drinking terremotos and eating anticuchos for days as they celebrated El Dieciocho on September 18, the national Day of Independence.

But perhaps the greatest show of feeling came last night, when the country’s national soccer team punched its ticket to go to Brazil next year for the World Cup, the planet’s largest sporting event.

The unifying power of sport has been commented on before.

In Invictus, the film based on John Carlin’s book, Clint Eastwood shows how Nelson Mandela donned the once-hated green jersey of the Springboks rugby team to bring the nation together in its quest to win the Rugby World Cup the year after the first free and democratic elections. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZY8c_a_dlQ&w=560&h=315]

In 1967, the great Pele literally caused a 48-hour ceasefire in secessionist Biafra so that both sides could watch him play.

Here in Chile, the country remains deeply divided about the legacy of the Pinochet era, but there there was no apparent division within the nation last night.

The cancellation by non-profit Inria-Chile of their previously planned Data Tuesday was the first sign of the game’s significance.

The second came in Papi Pollo, a rotisserie chicken joint near our apartment that I go to regularly. Amidst the heat and grease of the french fries, sopaipillas and whole chickens that a man in white shirts and pants cut with impressive dexterity, the other worker, a stocky man with black hair and a round, open face, told me that he was giving all his attention to the evening’s game.

He was concentrating so hard that he gave me an extra 1,000 pesos for the half chicken I was taking back to our apartment.

You can give me this if you want, I said, but the charge is 3,500 pesos, not 2,500.

It’s important to focus on the game, but you have to focus on money, too. We laughed and shook hands after I gave him all the money.

First stop

I left our building and went out in the warm, clear evening air shortly before the game started.

I walked up Providencia Avenue, stopping at the newspaper stand that also sells candy and portraits of iconic music stars like Elvis that are hung on a fence on the other side of the sidewalk. About a dozen people had formed a half circle around the color television that had been carefully placed atop a stand so that all could see.

Most were sitting, and a few were standing.

I bought a coke to help establish my legitimacy and started snapping pictures.

The first 25 minutes of the game were generally in favor of Chile, whose players were wearing red shirts and who were playing in front of 67,000 fans at Estadio Nacional, the national stadium. They were issuing full-throated roars from the moment the referee blew the whistle to start the match, which Chile only needed to tie to advance to La Mundial.

Things were quieter at the kiosk, where the group watched intently, grimacing when Ecuador threatened and holding their hands up when Chile threatened, but did not score.

But they didn’t stay that way after a header by Alexis Sanchez zipped past the Ecuadorean goalkeeper and into the back of the net for a 1-0 lead. Sanchez ripped off his shirt in ecstasy.

The crowd gathered around the television didn’t do that, but erupted in joy, yelling, screaming, jumping up and down and punching their fists in the air.

I continued to take pictures until one of the celebrants came over and told me in English with the utmost seriousness: Enough.

Enough with the pictures, he said. You can stay here and watch the game with us, but stop taking pictures.

So I left.

Paseo Orrego Luca

I walked further up the street, crossing over to the other side and stopping at Paseo Orrego Luca.

It’s an outdoor drinking establishment enclosed on three sides by buildings and filled with tables that sat comfortably under large, tan umbrellas and beneath the light provided by yellow, red, green and orange lanterns.

Adapting a page from South Africa’s hosting of the World Cup in 2010, the owner of the place, which was doing a very brisk business in french fries and beer delivered by bustling waiters, set up at least a dozen televisions of varying sizes so that everyone could easily see the action.

The crowd, many of whom were wearing red shirts and a number of whom sported jester hats with the national colors, also exploded in jubilation just as I was pulling up, when Gary Medel deposited the ball from a Sanchez header into the net for a 2-0 lead.