I was present on the Main Green in May when thousands of people gave Nelson Mandela a rapturous standing ovation in absentia. Alongside Morgan Freeman and Pulitzer Prize-winning writer David Rohde, the former president of South Africa was receiving an honorary degree from Brown. The award recognized Mandela's efforts in "leading South Africa toward truth, reconciliation, justice and multiracial democracy."
Similarly, those who have showered Mandela with more than 250 major awards in addition to his 1994 Nobel Peace Prize have harped on the same string of his supposed super-human work in establishing the "rainbow nation" that is South Africa today.
My personal favorite, though, is the United Nations' decision to take Mandela worship to an unprecedented level — by declaring a global "Mandela Day" every year on his birthday (July 18), calling him "a living embodiment of the highest values of the United Nations."
After a very successful World Cup tournament this summer, the spotlight returned again to the 92 year-old "Madiba": last Tuesday, Mandela's foundation released "Conversations with Myself," a memoir made from excerpts of letters he wrote during his 27 years in prison. In advance of that release, the web went abuzz; all the commentary eulogizing Mandela perfectly resembled pages taken out of some religious holy book.
But one needs no expertise on contemporary African history to know that the deity of Mandela is merely a construct of the media without any root in actual accomplishment. I feel it would do no harm to probe the realities behind the cult of South Africa's deified statesman, Nelson Mandela.
To be fair to Mandela, playing chess over morning coffee with Robben Island prison guards for 27 years is a tremendous loss. Separation from his wife and family was not a joke either — especially when, like the notorious Robert Mugabe, Mandela was forbidden to leave his colonial jail cell and bury his dead son.
This, I'm pretty sure, makes Mandela's the longest and most painful term in the history of jail terms.
Or if this isn't true — if, in fact, others like Walter Sisulu had the exact same jail experience as he — then post-jail Mandela should easily justify why the likes of U2's Bono and former President Bill Clinton piously recite the name "Mandela" three times before they go to bed each night.
The truth, of course, is that Mandela is hilariously overrated. Mandela did not better the economic welfare of the African peasants he supposedly embodies. Income disparity remains staggeringly high 16 years after independence — embittering blacks who also have to grapple with the biggest AIDS infection load in the world. Mandela's ex-wife, Winnie, recently caused a huge stir after quotes, attributed to her, blasted Mandela for "letting down black South Africans."
In comparison, a very small black elite continues to acquire massive personal wealth — harnessed by controversial economic laws from way back, during Mandela's presidency. Today, corruption and nasty bickering punctuate the battle for influence within the ruling African National Congress. Meanwhile, what little contributions he made to end colonial rule in South Africa from his jail mat are easily matched, in fact dwarfed, by the work of his contemporaries elsewhere on the continent. Tanzania's Julius Nyerere and Kwame Nkrumah in Ghana easily come to mind.
Mandela did contribute to reconciliation and racial integration in South Africa, yet today, big uncertainties loom ahead of the "rainbow nation." Sharp economic inequalities exacerbate racial tension, while inflammatory rhetoric from political leaders like Julius Malema adds to the uninspiring reality of a president like Mr. Jacob Zuma. Opponents of the ruling ANC party have been equally irresponsible — worsening fears that the racial tension and suspicion that pervade South African politics today could be a harbinger of future disintegration into "another Zimbabwe."
Speaking of Zimbabwe, the grave situation of South Africa's northern neighbors underlines Mandela's glaring double standards more than anything else. I grew up in Harare, and watched first hand as Mr. Mugabe presided over the demise of my country, known as "the jewel of Africa." Yet as thousands of innocent men and women perished amid economic collapse in Zimbabwe, Mandela famously said no single word to acknowledge or condemn the ten-year inferno behind his own backyard.
The myth of Mandela is best explained by the "looking-better-by-comparison" effect. He fought against an evil political system, and in comparison, he looks like a saint. Without the apartheid system to stand out against, zero political accomplishments while in office and a lackluster defense of human rights would be the more realistic making of Mandela. When the Western liberal media pounced and made Mandela a Hollywood brand, politically correct white groups in South Africa resonated, as did the oft-disappointed blacks yearning for a colossal hero of their own. But facts still say Mr. Mandela's only accomplishments are a 27-year excursion from the heat of nationalist political struggle, and a 1995 clownish display in a borrowed rugby jersey in front of a worldwide television audience. These two, in all fairness, fall short of the man's messianic status and make his cult a sheer accident of world history.
Dominic Mhiripiri '12 is retiring his pen, but will miss the hullabaloo that was his mailbox every other week. He can be reached at dominic_mhiripiri@brown.edu.
