How today’s politics can learn from Mandela’s approach

I wrote this many years ago for the Sydney Morning Herald on hearing of Nelson Mandela’s death. Perhaps it has more currency these days.

Millions of words have been written about Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela. But it's worth reflecting on his extraordinary inclusive style, which offers a model for contemporary politics often beset by bitter partisanship.

Mandela was a negotiator like no other. He mastered the art of occasion and symbolism. He was an orator who found connections across the political divide.

Mandela's capacity to connect his vulnerability with others and weave a grand narrative of liberation made him one of democracy's greatest champions. Many declare him a saint. Saints make sacrifices, as he surely did. But saints sit above us.

They don't get down in the trenches, ground themselves in the lived reality of others and search for inclusion and compromise.

Mandela did not just talk about reconciliation; he embodied it, not just to win over his political foes to reach a settlement, but to pull in sections of his African National Congress when party members pressed for a full-blown civil war.

Arriving to address a meeting east of Johannesburg, an epicentre of ''black on black'' violence, Mandela found a message awaiting him on the speakers' table: ''No peace, do not talk to us about peace. We've had enough. Please, Mr Mandela, no peace. Give us weapons.''

Departing from his prepared text, he said:

''There are times when our people participate in the killing of innocent people. It is difficult for us to say that when people are angry, they must be non-violent. But the solution is peace, it is reconciliation, it is political tolerance. We must accept that blacks are fighting each other in the townships … we must accept that responsibility for ending the violence is not just the government's, the police's, the army's. It is also our responsibility. We must put our house in order. If you have no discipline, you are not a freedom fighter. If you are going to kill innocent people, you don't belong to the ANC. Your task is reconciliation. Listen to me. Listen to me. I am your leader. I am going to give leadership. Do you want me to remain your leader? Yes? Well, as long as I am your leader, I will tell you, always, when you are wrong."

He humanised his political enemies, offering glimpses into the souls of his opponents in ways that broke down barriers, brick by brick. After another mass shooting of ANC protesters by police, President and National Party leader F. W. de Klerk and Mandela spoke by telephone. Mandela told reporters that de Klerk ''was a very brave chap, you know, and very bright, and it was worrying to hear him sounding so down''.

Mandela's rapport with the leader of the separatist organisation, the Afrikaner Volksfront, proved decisive in the hardline group's 11th-hour adoption of the political peace deal and South Africa's transitional constitutional arrangement (critics will say Mandela went too far to acknowledge and reassure white South Africans).

Even when, in the thick of multi-party negotiations, the immensely popular Chris Hani was killed by an assassin commissioned by the right-wing Conservative Party, Mandela, rather than de Klerk, appealed for calm with his trademark tone aimed at restoring hope and bringing people together. It was a white man who killed Hani, he noted, ''But a white woman, of Afrikaner origin, risked her life so that we may know and bring justice to the assassin.''

While many more black children are getting at least some kind of formal instruction, it is actually more expensive today to get an education in South Africa than it was during apartheid. Those who do complete their schooling struggle to find work, joining 70 per cent of young people who will not have any secure form of employment. Stubborn high rates of poverty and mass unemployment are deeply troubling. But Mandela would have been profoundly disappointed by the self-serving leaders all the way to the top of his ruling party; individuals too tolerant of corrosive corruption. The ANC he knew has morphed into a kind of mafia where members look after one another. Only a small black elite has benefited from black empowerment measures. Power has not shifted.

Current President, Cyril Ramaphosa, has brought the ANC back from immoderate policies (and a period under Jacob Zuma dogged by corruption), bringing a considered and humble approach, much needed after years of excessive tribalism. Ramaphosa, a former top adviser to Mandela, kept cool during Trump's choreographed onslaught in the White House in 2025.

At Mandela’s presidential inauguration, which I was fortunate to attend 20 years ago as a reporter with Reuters, Mandela spoke of entering into a covenant, where all colours walk tall, “without fear in their hearts, assured of their inalienable right to human dignity, a rainbow nation at peace with itself and the world''. He and that other beloved elder statesman, Desmond Tutu, symbolised a rainbow nation.

They promoted liberal, inclusive and ecclesiastical discourses of forgiveness. Their philosophy made possible the negotiations to end apartheid. A key expression was the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. While the ideas were imposed from above, the rainbow nation has had deep and popular appeal. It was a tool for nation-building, to unite a historically divided people. Contemporary leaders do not espouse, from the inside out, the rainbow nation ideal. South Africa needs new anti-poverty champions of inclusion and equality.

We hold our breath with each election, anticipating more reform, not just to redeem the ANC from a party of patronage into a democratic and accountable movement, but a government that Mandela would commend for transforming power to raise the living standards and human rights of all.

Perhaps the best way South Africans can honour Mandela's memory is to vote for a different party.

Updated. First published here: https://www.smh.com.au/opinion/the-real-mandela-challenge-living-up-to-his-ideals-20131209-2z1xd.html. Image by Peter Andrews.