Dare Not Linger

by Nelson Mandela

  ‘I assured him that everybody knows that his is a Bantustan, and that would be the theme of our speeches. He then said that in that case we would be in trouble. His people would feel insulted and he could not guarantee our safety. We told him that we were confident that we would be able not only to protect ourselves, we would win the majority of the people of that area. But we could not convince him. It was a draw. On several occasions thereafter I invited him to Johannesburg and tried to persuade him without success. He is one of the most difficult and unpredictable politicians I have met.

  ‘After overcoming an intricate web of machinations from Mangope and some South African generals, we succeeded with the help of Pik Botha, Mac Maharaj, Fanie van der Merwe and Roelf Meyer in removing Mangope as President and dissolved his government. The Transitional Executive Council replaced him with [the] South African Ambassador in that Bantustan [of Bophuthatswana], Tjaart van der Walt, and Job Mokgoro as a temporary government.

  ‘I also experienced serious problems in the Transvaal Province in the Lebowa Bantustan under Nelson Ramodike, who was the Chief Minister of that Bantustan. There were two powerful claimants to the BaPedi throne, namely Rhyne Thulare and Kenneth Kgagudi Sekhukhune, both of whom were descendants of King Sekwati I.* Rhyne was the son and undisputed successor to Queen Mankopodi Thulare, who became Regent during the minority of her son. She was later deposed by the Royal Council of the tribe as they disapproved of certain aspects of her reign. The Royal Council appointed Rhyne to succeed the mother, but Rhyne declined. The Royal Council then resorted to K. K. Sekhukhune and appointed him Regent. He was ordered to marry what was termed a “candle wife” who would produce a King.* A son was later born of the marriage and named Sekwati III.

  ‘Later Rhyne changed his mind and claimed his rightful position. According to law and custom he was the undisputed heir to the throne. But K. K. Sekhukhune refused to step down on the grounds that Rhyne had renounced his claim to the Kingship, an argument which the High Court endorsed. I called several meetings of the tribe without success. I eventually made it clear that this was a dispute which should be settled by the BaPedi themselves and not by the President of the ANC or of the country. But the matter remains unresolved.

  ‘I had a similar problem with the amaVhavenda traditional leaders. I visited King Tshivhase expecting all the traditional leaders in that area to attend. Contrary to my expectations, King Mphephu refused to attend on the ground that he was senior to Tshivhase, and he insisted that, although he was keen to listen to me, I should visit him at his own residence. In spite of the fact that I was again warmly welcomed, it was clear that I had deeply hurt him in thinking that Tshivhase was senior to him. I also discovered that he was working closely with President De Klerk.

  ‘My problems were in no way less with amaZulu traditional leaders …

  ‘In due course and in spite of the problems I encountered, the overwhelming majority of traditional leaders throughout the country responded positively and rallied behind the ANC.

  ‘There is no suggestion whatsoever that only one person was responsible for this historic achievement. Leaders like Walter Sisulu, O. R. Tambo, Jacob Zuma, John Nkadimeng, Elias Motsoaledi, Ngoako Ramatlhodi and many others were in the forefront of that campaign.† It was the result of that collective effort that the ANC became all-powerful in both the urban and rural areas.’7

  The process of aligning traditional leadership with democracy was long and arduous. Whereas traditional leaders were represented in the Multiparty Negotiating Forum, which negotiated the interim constitution prior to the 1994 election, they were absent from the elected Constitutional Assembly which drew up the final constitution, and were not consulted to the same extent. Much like accommodating a troubled relative at a family celebration, the government had to devise strategies, including legislative measures, to reincorporate the Bantustans into the South African state, all the while ensuring that democratic values survived intact. The major headache for all involved was unscrambling elements of the coercive administrative structures inherent in the Bantustans, which were a legacy of the apartheid regime.

  * * *

  Part of Mandela’s quest to deepen democracy, using state power, was – like the eating of the proverbial elephant ‘one bite at a time’ – eliminating hurdles history had put in the way. Some of the legislation towards the creation of a unitary state, such as the Local Government Transition Act of 1993, paved the way for the first local government elections, which were held in most parts of the country in November 1995. This was an exercise that had a bearing on transformation, which, as observed by Allister Sparks, had led to ‘redrawing the geopolitical map of South Africa – in itself a transformation of quite remarkable scale. A country that previously consisted of four provinces and ten nominally autonomous tribal “homelands”, four of them independent, has been redrawn into one of nine completely new provinces with their own premiers, executives and legislatures, and with the so-called “homelands” eliminated as separate entities and subsumed into the provinces.’8

  The framework for the elections had been one of the most difficult negotiating issues. They were weighted in favour of white voters and, in some areas, forums for the restructuring of local government were used to resist change. These and other related dynamics led to an uncharacteristic collaboration between CONTRALESA and the IFP, and they marched to the Union Buildings to pressurise President Mandela to give them more power. In some rural areas, traditional leaders called for a boycott of the elections – which proved to be a damp squib as rural residents instead chose to use their newly won democratic right to vote. Although there was a lower voter turnout in some rural areas, this could not be attributed only to the influence of traditional leaders.9

  If CONTRALESA and the IFP had joined forces in demanding more powers in local government for traditional leaders, their views on remuneration remained divergent. CONTRALESA favoured uniformity of pay across the country while the IFP wanted pay reflecting a special status for KwaZulu-Natal and feared losing their hold on the province if their pay came from national government.

  Those who worked with Mandela during the constitutional negotiations were aware of his own background in the Thembu royal family. His attitude, however, was uncompromisingly informed by political imperatives.

  Valli Moosa remembers that Mandela acknowledged that

  the traditional leaders had a degree of influence in their own areas, so it was important to engage with them. During the negotiations he felt it was important to keep them on side, so that they supported the transition and did not oppose it. Nor did he want the regime to mobilise the traditional leaders against change, and so he engaged with them and kept close to them. He respected traditional leaders from the point of view that they held the respect and following of their communities … although he was of the view that many were illegitimate; he said that over and over. But he didn’t want them to have any role whatsoever in government; they were not elected.10

  Given the intricacies of the area, Mandela also believed in taking counsel with his advisers. He writes about how Sydney Mufamadi, the minister of provincial affairs and local government, ‘briefed me on the position of traditional leaders, especially after I had stepped down as President of the country in June 1999. He reminded me that when we came into power in 1994, we needed to find a place for traditional leaders in our new system of government. To that end, we created six Provincial Houses of Traditional Leaders, as well as the National House of Traditional Leaders, so that they could play a meaningful role on matters under their jurisdiction.

  ‘The creation of these Houses was in accordance with the policy of the ANC which had at its inception, as we have already said, an upper House for traditional leaders. This measure was taken not only to acknowledge the role which traditional leaders had played in the wars of resistance, but also because it was an important step in our campaign to bury the curse of tribalism. An Inter-Departmental Task Team was set up to recommend to the Governm
ent the role which traditional leaders should play in Local, Provincial and National government. But we must strongly resist any concession to them where they will stand outside the democratic process by investing them with authoritative powers. What is very disturbing is their inability to understand the social forces at work inside and outside South Africa.

  ‘South Africans have fully accepted democratic government in which the people’s representatives in the central, provincial and local government level are democratically elected and are accountable to their respective constituencies. Besides, the country’s youth who now occupy key positions, in society and in all levels of government, in the South African Congress of Trade Unions (COSATU) and in the South African Communist party (SACP), are urbanised and fairly educated. They cannot be expected to compromise the democratic principles by surrendering any aspect of government to those who occupy positions of authority in society not because of merit but purely because of heredity.

  ‘Many of our traditional leaders are also not aware of the lessons of history. They do not seem to know that there were once absolute monarchs in the world who did not share power with their subjects … It is Monarchs who … themselves or their predecessors, decided to allow elected representatives of the people to govern, and who became constitutional monarchs who survived like Queen Elizabeth II of Britain, King Juan Carlos of Spain, King Albert of Belgium, Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands, Queen Margrethe II of Denmark, King Harald of Norway and King Carl XVI Gustaf. Had these monarchs clung stubbornly to their absolute powers they would long have disappeared from the scene.

  ‘But we must never forget that the institution of traditional leaders is sanctified by African law and custom, by our culture and tradition. No attempt must be made to abolish it. We must find an amicable solution based on democratic principles, and which allows traditional leaders to play a meaningful role in all levels of government.

  ‘I am not clear to what extent a significant initiative of the apartheid government … was available in other Bantustans. But in the Transkei there was a school for the sons of traditional leaders, which gave them basic skills in the administration of areas under their jurisdiction. I would not urge that we should have such schools. But depending on the resources that the government has, it would be advisable to encourage sons of traditional leaders to get the best education.

  ‘Although my own resources are very limited, I have sent a number of sons and daughters of traditional leaders to Universities in South Africa, and to the United Kingdom and the United States of America. A literate corps of educated traditional leaders would in all probability accept the democratic process. The inferiority complex, which makes many of them cling desperately to feudal forms of administration, would, in due course, disappear.

  ‘Some leaders of the ANC have established education trusts to help, particularly previously disadvantaged children, to enter high schools, technicons and universities.* But I would urge that they should consciously try to make scholarships available to children of traditional leaders as well.

  ‘The colonial powers in their efforts to subjugate the people of the African Continent, deliberately refused to acknowledge that we had Kings and traditional leaders. They referred to them as chiefs and paramount chiefs. Only the colonial countries themselves had the monopoly of having kings and princes. The era of colonialism and contempt for the people of Africa has gone, never to return. We must recognise our kings and princes.’11

  * * *

  The final step during Mandela’s presidency towards reconciling traditional leadership with democratic local government was the Municipal Structures Act of 1998. It laid the ground for the first fully democratic local government elections, to be held in 2000, consolidating the countrywide system of elected local authorities. Traditional leaders would be ex officio and non-voting members of councils in areas where communities recognised them. Yet again, some were disappointed and critical, still mounting pressure for more extensive recognition.

  The relationship between traditional leadership and violence was a nagging issue for Mandela. This was especially true of the recalcitrance that could be found in Natal, which was unfortunately linked to violence. This concern had motivated him to use one of the first days of his freedom – 25 February 1990 – to visit Durban and address a rally.

  After greeting the people of Natal, he said: ‘The past is a rich resource on which we can draw in order to make decisions for the future, but it does not dictate our choices. We should look back at the past and select what is good, and leave behind what is bad. The issue of chiefship is one such question. Not only in Natal, but all through the country, there have been chiefs who have been good and honest leaders who have piloted their people through the dark days of oppression with skill. These are the chiefs who have looked after the interests of their people and who enjoy the support of their people. We salute these traditional leaders. But there have been many bad chiefs who have profited from apartheid and who have increased the burden on their people. We denounce this misuse of office in the strongest terms. There are also chiefs who have collaborated with the system, but who have since seen the error of their ways. We commend their change of heart. Chiefly office is not something that history has given to certain individuals to use or abuse as they see fit. Like all forms of leadership, it places specific responsibilities on its holders. As Luthuli, himself a chief, put it: “A chief is primarily a servant of the people. He is the voice of his people.”

  ‘The Zulu royal house continues today to enjoy the respect of its subjects. It has a glorious history. We are confident that its members will act in ways that will promote the well-being of all South Africans.

  ‘The ANC offers a home to all who subscribe to the principles of a free, democratic, non-racial and united South Africa. We are committed to building a single nation in our country. Our new nation will include blacks and whites, Zulus and Afrikaners, and speakers of every other language. ANC President General Chief Luthuli said: “I personally believe that here in South Africa, with all of our diversities of colour and race, we will show the world a new pattern for democracy. I think that there is a challenge to us in South Africa to set a new example for the world.” This is the challenge we face today.’

  The biggest hurdle that had to be overcome was that not much had changed since his release. ‘Yet even now as we stand together on the threshold of a new South Africa, Natal is in flames,’ he said. ‘Brother is fighting brother in wars of vengeance and retaliation. Every family has lost dear ones in this strife.’12

  It is one of history’s enduring paradoxes that the Natal of the 1990s became the main obstacle to the transition to democracy. The province’s wars against colonial intrusion are legendary, not to mention the fact that it was the birthplace of John Langalibalele Dube and Pixley ka Isaka Seme, the founders of the ANC in 1912. Chief Albert Luthuli, the first African recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1960 and the president general of the ANC from December 1952 to July 1967, was also from Natal.

  In almost all his speeches addressing the tragedy of division that wracked the province, Mandela never forgot to invoke the glorious past of the amaZulu by referencing their involvement in anti-colonial resistance. The re-emergence of militant trade unionism in the 1970s and 1980s owed much to the workers of Natal. But from the mid-eighties, Natal was locked into a violent and deadly conflict that is estimated to have taken twenty thousand lives over the next decade, most of these in the aftermath of the unbanning of liberation movements in 1990.13

  Apartheid security forces – police and military intelligence – fomented and perpetrated violence and, according to evidence by various operatives, gave material and operational support to Inkatha as the party in control of the KwaZulu Bantustan.14 However deceitfully the apartheid government tried to limit democratic change in the KwaZulu Bantustan, it found itself outflanked by the ANC, which succeeded in getting virtually all the other Bantustans into its camp.15

  With active support from
within the security forces, Inkatha mounted pressure to secure its constitutional objectives – unconstitutionally, as it were – wreaking havoc across the Reef (now part of Greater Johannesburg), especially the East Rand and parts of present-day Mpumalanga. About a thousand people were killed in the three months before the 1994 elections. Mangosuthu Buthelezi’s capitulation at the last hour to participate in the elections was therefore critical in staunching the violence and paving the road to the transition and an unchallenged election.

  Despite this, the peace was sporadic with continued outbreaks of violence. Normalising the situation in KwaZulu-Natal was one of the main preoccupations of Mandela’s presidency. While not wholly eradicating political violence, he was engaged with the multipronged strategies that, by and large, narrowed its operational space, cutting the umbilical cord that had nurtured covert capacity. Greater security and freer political activity helped normalise the province and integrate it into the emergent South African nation.

  * * *

  Throughout his time in office, Mandela’s attitude towards the traditional leaders of KwaZulu-Natal was ambivalent:

  ‘At the outset one must concede that this section of our people are intensely nationalistic, proud and brave. They are immensely inspired by the spectacular achievements of uNodumehlezi, or the black Napoleon as the colonial historians sometimes refer to King Shaka.

  ‘In my long association with amaZulu, I found that the majority are men and women I deeply admire.