Madiba inauguration: Joyful days of 1994 must serve as a reminder of who we are

Photo credit: Archives de la Ville de Montréal via Flickr

Today, 29 years ago, Nelson Mandela was inaugurated as the President of South Africa. I was privileged to be part of this incredibly joyful day – a day we thought would never come. 

As newly sworn in MPs, we were flown from Cape Town to Johannesburg in special flights. Even though it was extremely early, the plane was buzzing with excitement. After our transfer from OR Tambo to Pretoria, we all took our seats in the amphitheatre of the Union Building.

I remember reflecting on the fact that so many of apartheid’s evils originated in the buildings behind me. I also tried to imagine the 20 000 women who marched to Pretoria in 1956 to protest against the passbook laws. I thought how, when the big clock chimed at noon, the crowd stood in complete silence – it is said that not even a baby whimpered. Then, as the clock stopped, they chanted: “Whathint’ abafazi, whatint’ imbokodo”. (Strike a woman, strike a rock!). How powerful that must have been! No wonder that JG Strijdom, who was prime minister at the time, got such a fright that he ran from the building. 

Now 38 years later, we were there to inaugurate and honor our new president, our Madiba. 

It was extraordinary to watch all the dignitaries from over 140 countries arrive. Some, like Fidel Castro, caused a bigger stir than others with the ANC loudly chanting his name. 

A few hours later, Mandela arrived, beaming with joy and waving at the thousands of people who had gathered on the lawn below the Union Building.  After his swearing in and speech, came one of the most emotional moments of the day. Over the koppies in the distance, black spots appeared. We all held our breath as we watched. The fighter jets approached fast, but as they grew closer, they visibly slowed down. They descended sharply and, with a tremendous roar, flew very slowly over the amphitheatre. They were so low you could clearly see the young, white pilots inside. As they flew over Mandela’s head, they all looked down and raised their hands to salute him. I could hear the sharp intake of breath all around me from the ANC cadres, many of whom had for years fought in MK. To see these airmen – who had, for decades, been trained to eradicate the ANC and its followers – salute Mandela as their new president and commander-in-chief was almost beyond belief.

Around me there was not a dry eye in sight.

After the formal proceedings, the festivities started. Of course, for President Mandela, there was no rest possible and in typical Madiba style he sought out moments to demonstrate reconciliation and his enormous capacity for compassion. One of the most moving stories of that day was told by one of Madiba’s bodyguards, Rory Steyn to the Sunday Times years later. 

He recalled that Madiba had to attend a football match between South Africa and Zambia at Ellis Park after his inauguration. He was a little late after the festivities at the Union Buildings and rushing to Pretoria to host a lunch for more than one hundred and fifty heads of state.

After greeting the teams on the field at halftime, he got into his armoured car for the trip back to the waiting helicopter. Rory said that just as they were about to drive away, Madiba got out of the armoured car again without any explanation to the protection team. He then walked across the floor from where the car was parked towards a police colonel on the other side of the hall.

Rory said: “The colonel who was in full uniform, was a real old ‘polisie-kolonel’ as we knew them in 1994. He was Afrikaans, in his mid-fifties, white, lots of ‘miles on the dial’ and had a lined face that had certainly been there and seen it all.” With Madiba approaching, it was clear that the colonel was as confused as the VIP protectors and his eyes grew larger and larger as Madiba walked directly towards him. 

Surrounded by about ten VIP protectors, Madiba put out his hand and said to the colonel: ‘Colonel, I just want you to know that today, you have become our police. I am now the president of South Africa, but I just want you to know that there is no more ‘you’ and ‘us’ and, from today, you are our police.’

The hardened veteran started quietly crying and the tears ran down his lined face and dripped onto the polished parquet floor. Madiba just patted his shoulder and said: “It’s okay, Colonel, I just wanted to tell you that,” and then walked back to his car.”

Of course, a lot has happened since that joyful day 29 years ago.

Much of it has not been good, and I often think how heartbroken Madiba would have been about the state of the country if he was still alive today. 

Still, the joyful days in 1994 must serve as a reminder of who we truly are as South Africans and what we are capable of. Those days filled with hope and dreams were not an accident or a just a short moment in time in our history, as many would like us to believe. It was and is fundamentally part of our societal fabric. 

Madiba’s inauguration was made possible by those women who bravely stood in the amphitheatre in 1956. It was made a reality by hundreds of thousands of people who resisted apartheid - many who lost their lives in the battle. They were joined by churches, some brave politicians and even business. 

Nowhere else in the world was this ever done. 

And so, as we remember the day when good triumphed over evil, when despair was replaced with hope, may we commit to rebuilding this country. Let’s not allow the evil and greed of some triumph over the huge amount of good and let us not allow despair to kill off the hope for a glorious future.