EVERY word that President Jacob Zuma has uttered in praise of Nelson Mandela in recent days is rendered hollow and meaningless by his treatment of Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu.
Whatever the twisted decision-making whereby Tutu was sidelined from the two major events in memory of Mandela, the service at the FNB Stadium and the funeral in Qunu, the fact is the buck stops with Zuma. Had he wished to intervene and place Tutu centre stage, where he belonged, he could have done so. Yet he chose not to. And in that hand-washing, Pontius Pilate abnegation of responsibility he has revealed himself to be exactly what so many suspected: a vindictive little man in presidential furs, a petty-minded usurper who has no right to call himself Mandela’s heir or a worthy leader of Mandela’s people.
For Zuma to call on South Africans to cherish and preserve the spirit of Mandela while treating Tutu, who incarnates Mandela’s spirit as no one else does, with nasty, shabby contempt is vile hypocrisy.
I once asked Tutu to define Mandela in a word. After barely a second, with that laser clarity of mind, he shot back: "Magnanimity!" Tutu nailed it. Mandela was big-hearted. Mandela was forgiving. Loyal. He had a big, big soul. Tutu is the only South African now alive who is in Mandela’s class. But he committed the sin in Zuma’s eyes of exercising his democratic right — the right Mandela fought for — to be critical of the African National Congress (ANC) powers that be, and for that he had to be punished. No big-heartedness from Zuma. No forgiveness, no loyalty. Just smallness of soul. And monstrou s ingratitude.
In depth: Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela 1918-2013
News and views on the death, and life, of former president Nelson Mandela, with tributes and photographsTutu, as Zuma seems to have forgotten, was more outspoken than anyone in his condemnation of apartheid in the dangerous 1980s, and for that was awarded the Nobel peace prize. Tutu’s home was where Mandela spent his first night of freedom after 27 years in jail.
Tutu would venture courageously into the Johannesburg townships in the early 1990s to try to restrain the violence unleashed by the enemies of the ANC. Tutu was the friend in whom Mandela confided his pain over the break-up with his wife.
Tutu it was who, joyously introduced Mandela to the crowds at Cape Town’s Grand Parade after the opening of South Africa’s first democratic Parliament: "Welcome our brand-new state president, out of the box, Nelson Mandela!"
Yet it was Tutu also who criticised the ANC within months of Mandela coming to power with that famous line: "They have stopped the gravy train only long enough to get on." He little knew how astute his premonition would turn out to be, but Mandela was angry at the time, attacking him in public. But a day later, the two laughed off their differences.
Had it been Zuma in power then, we can be confident he would have sought retribution, most likely blocking Tutu from chairing the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Mandela not only did not block Tutu, he intervened on his side when sectors of the ANC tried to stop publication of parts of the commission report that dealt with ANC abuses.
Out of gratitude, friendship and loyalty to an old comrade, Mandela the man would have loved to have had Tutu deliver a national address in his memory. Mandela the politician would have wanted Tutu to play a major part in the funeral proceedings. Mandela was a showman. He had a talent for working a crowd, he understood the power of symbolism to win over the masses. He knew how to market South Africa. Had Tutu spoken at the FNB last Tuesday he’d have blown Barack Obama’s speech out of the water, and instead of the nearly 100 heads of state or government leaving with the sense they had witnessed a fiasco, a flat and inept failure to represent South Africa at its best, which is humanity at its best, they’d have gone home wowed by one of the most brilliant, lucid, funny and powerfully moving orators on the planet. But no. To have put Tutu on stage would have put the interests of South Africa first. That is not Zuma’s way. His self-serving calculations operate on a meaner plane.
The best thing about the 10 days between Mandela’s death and burial was seeing South Africans of all races, religions and political beliefs coming together in celebration of his life. The second best thing was the thunder of disdain that greeted Zuma at the FNB Stadium, the chorus of boos from the people for whom Mandela had been a living god. The corruption, cronyism, the sloppy incompetence in Zuma’s management of affairs of state are bad enough. His treatment of Tutu is the last straw, laying bare the tawdriness of his spirit. Let the booing continue, let it rise to a crescendo of national indignation, until he is driven out of office, all the way home to Nkandla.
• Carlin is a special Business Day correspondent and the author of Playing the Enemy: Nelson Mandela and the Game that Made a Nation.
