Nelson Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom

Tenth May dawned bright and clear. For days Mandela had been visited by dignitaries and world leaders before the inauguration - the largest gathering of international leaders ever on South African soil. He was accompanied by his daughter Zenani to the ceremonies at the Union Buildings in Pretoria.

Tenth May dawned bright and clear. For the past few days Mandela had been pleasantly besieged by dignitaries and world leaders coming to pay their respects before the inauguration. The inauguration would be the largest gathering ever of international leaders on South African soil. The ceremonies took place in the lovely sandstone amphitheatre formed by the Union Buildings in Pretoria. For decades this had been the seat of white supremacy; now it was the site of a rainbow gathering of different colours and nations for the installation of South Africa's first democratic, non-racial government. On that lovely autumn day he was accompanied by his daughter Zenani.

On the podium, Mr de Klerk was sworn in as second deputy president and Thabo Mbeki as first deputy president. When Mandela's turn came, he pledged to obey the Constitution and devote himself to the well-being of the Republic and its people. In his address he spoke of newborn liberty, political emancipation, and a pledge to liberate all people from poverty, deprivation, and discrimination.

On the podium, Mr de Klerk was first sworn in as second deputy president. Then Thabo Mbeki was sworn in as first deputy president. When it was Mandela's turn, he pledged to obey and uphold the Constitution and to devote himself to the well-being of the Republic and its people. To the assembled guests and the watching world he said that out of an extraordinary human disaster must be born a society of which all humanity would be proud. They had at last achieved political emancipation and pledged to liberate all people from the continuing bondage of poverty, deprivation, suffering, gender and other discrimination. He declared: 'Never, never, and never again shall it be that this beautiful land will again experience the oppression of one by another.'

South African jets, helicopters, and troop carriers roared in perfect formation over the Union Buildings. It was a display of military precision and also of the military's loyalty to democracy. Moments before, the highest generals of the defence force and police had saluted Mandela and pledged loyalty - men who years earlier would have arrested him. Impala jets left a smoke trail in the colours of the new flag.

A few moments later everyone lifted their eyes in awe as a spectacular array of South African jets, helicopters and troop carriers roared in perfect formation over the Union Buildings. It was not only a display of pinpoint precision and military force, but a demonstration of the military's loyalty to democracy, to a new government that had been freely and fairly elected. Only moments before, the highest generals of the South African defence force and police, their chests bedecked with ribbons and medals, had saluted Mandela and pledged their loyalty. He was not unmindful of the fact that not so many years before they would not have saluted but arrested him. Finally a chevron of Impala jets left a smoke trail of the black, red, green, blue and gold of the new South African flag.

The day was symbolised by the playing of two national anthems - whites singing 'Nkosi Sikelel' and blacks singing 'Die Stem'. Neither group knew the lyrics of the anthem they once despised, but they would soon know them by heart. Mandela was overwhelmed with a sense of history as he remembered how white-skinned peoples had erected a system of racial domination after the Anglo-Boer war, and how that harsh system had now been overturned forever.

The day was symbolised for Mandela by the playing of the two national anthems, and the vision of whites singing 'Nkosi Sikelel –iAfrika' and blacks singing 'Die Stem', the old anthem of the Republic. Although that day neither group knew the lyrics of the anthem they once despised, they would soon know the words by heart. On the day of the inauguration he was overwhelmed with a sense of history. In the first decade of the twentieth century, after the bitter Anglo-Boer war, the white-skinned peoples of South Africa patched up their differences and erected a system of racial domination against the dark-skinned peoples of their own land - one of the harshest societies the world has ever known. Now, in the last decade of the twentieth century, that system had been overturned forever and replaced by one that recognised the rights and freedoms of all peoples, regardless of the colour of their skin.

The new day came through the unimaginable sacrifices of thousands of patriots whose suffering can never be repaid. Mandela felt he was simply the sum of all those African patriots who had gone before him. Apartheid created a deep wound, but decades of oppression also produced extraordinary heroes like Oliver Tambo and Walter Sisulu. From them Mandela learned that courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.

That day had come about through the unimaginable sacrifices of thousands of Mandela's people, people whose suffering and courage can never be counted or repaid. He felt that he was simply the sum of all those African patriots who had gone before him. The policy of apartheid created a deep and lasting wound in his country and his people; all would spend many years recovering from that profound hurt. But the decades of oppression and brutality had an unintended effect - they produced the Oliver Tambos, the Walter Sisulus, the Chief Luthulis, and others of extraordinary courage, wisdom and generosity. From these comrades Mandela learned the meaning of courage: it was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.

Mandela says no one is born hating another because of skin colour, background, or religion - people must learn to hate, and can also be taught to love. Even in prison he sometimes saw a glimmer of humanity in a guard. In life every man has twin obligations: to his family and to his people. In apartheid South Africa a man of colour could not fulfil both; attempting to serve his people meant being ripped from his family into a twilight existence of secrecy and rebellion.

No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite. Even in the grimmest times in prison, when Mandela and his comrades were pushed to their limits, he would see a glimmer of humanity in one of the guards - enough to reassure him and keep him going. In life, every man has twin obligations - to his family and to his people, his community, his country. In a civil and humane society each man can fulfil both according to his inclinations. But in South Africa it was almost impossible for a man of Mandela's birth and colour to fulfil both. A man of colour who attempted to live as a human being was punished; one who tried to fulfil his duty to his people was ripped from his family and forced to live a twilight existence of secrecy and rebellion.

Mandela was not born with a hunger to be free - as a boy he was free to run, swim, and live by tribal customs. Only when he discovered that his boyhood freedom was an illusion did he begin to hunger for it. First he wanted freedom only for himself; later he joined the African National Congress and his hunger became the hunger for his people's freedom. Freedom is indivisible - the chains on one person are chains on all.

Mandela was not born with a hunger to be free. As a boy he was free to run in the fields, swim in the stream, and live by the customs of his tribe as long as he obeyed his father. It was only when he discovered that his boyhood freedom was an illusion that he began to hunger for it. At first, as a student, he wanted transitory freedoms - to stay out at night, read what he pleased, go where he chose. Later in Johannesburg he yearned for the basic freedoms of earning his keep, marrying, and having a family. Then he saw that not only he but all who looked like him were unfree, and he joined the African National Congress. The hunger for his own freedom became the greater hunger for the freedom of his people. That desire transformed a frightened young man into a bold one, a law-abiding attorney into a criminal, a family-loving husband into a man without a home. Freedom is indivisible; the chains on anyone of his people were the chains on all of them.

Mandela concludes that the oppressor must be liberated just as surely as the oppressed. A man who takes away another man's freedom is a prisoner of hatred, locked behind bars of prejudice and narrow-mindedness. One is not truly free while taking away someone else's freedom. Both the oppressed and the oppressor are robbed of their humanity.

Mandela knew that the oppressor must be liberated just as surely as the oppressed. A man who takes away another man's freedom is a prisoner of hatred; he is locked behind the bars of prejudice and narrow-mindedness. Mandela is not truly free if he is taking away someone else's freedom, just as surely as he is not free when his freedom is taken from him. The oppressed and the oppressor alike are robbed of their humanity. True liberty, therefore, means freedom not only from political chains but from poverty, deprivation, and all forms of discrimination - a society in which all can live with dignity and self-respect.