The death of Nelson Mandela and the global outpouring of
condolences to his widow evoke reminiscences of Portugal ’s
influence on the couple’s lives and on the history of South Africa as
a whole.
Portuguese explorers in the 15th century were the first Europeans to set foot
in southern Africa . The Portuguese established
initial trade links but went on to colonise neighbouring Mozambique and Angola to the east and northwest, leaving the central and southernmost territory to the Dutch and the British.
After Mandela’s imprisonment in 1964 on charges of
inciting armed revolution, fiercely racist white politicians and security
forces remained dominant in South
Africa despite international condemnation of
apartheid. With one of the fastest
growing economies in the world, commercial relationships thrived with the United States , Britain ,
France
and other leading western countries.
The Portuguese troop withdrawals and subsequent granting
of independence to Mozambique
and Angola hugely encouraged
the determination of South Africa ’s
blacks and increasing numbers of like-minded whites.
Among the much more racially tolerant Portuguese there had
never been segregation in Mozambique or Angola , but after independence
many emigrants moved across the border to South Africa . They enriched the
multi-cultural though increasingly tense situation there.
Overwhelming international pressure in the late 1980s led
to the collapse of the laws separating whites and blacks in South Africa .
In 1994, Mandela, who had served 27 years in jail, was elected the
country’s first black president. There then developed a much more personal connection
between Portugal ’s
sphere of influence and President Mandela.
With Mozambique in the throes of a
post-independence civil war between the army of the ruling Frelimo government
and South African-backed Renamo rebels in 1980s, the president of Mozambique
Samora Machel, a fierce opponent of the neignbouring apartheid regime, had been killed in a still mysterious plane
crash near the border of the two
countries.
Machel’s widow, Graça, had been born into a peasant family
in rural Mozambique .
She won a scholarship to high school in Mozambique ’s
capital, Maputo ,
but she was the only black in a class of white students.
“Why is it that I’m made to feel strange in my own
country? They’re the foreigners, not me. Something is wrong here,” she remarked much later.
Another scholarship brought her to the University of Lisbon
as a language student who became deeply involved in political and humanitarian
issues.
On returning to Mozambique she joined Frelimo, trained as a guerrilla fighter and became a
schoolteacher, a contrasting but, as it turned out, sound preparation for her deployment as Mozambique’s first post-independence minister of education, a job she
relished until well after her husband’s death.
Graça Machel first met Mandela, 27 years her senior, soon after his release from Robben Island
in 1990. In 1998, two years after Mandela’s highly publicised divorce from his
second wife Winnie, Nelson and Graça married on his 80th birthday.
How ironic that two passionate rebels of different nationalities and almost different generations, both branded ‘guerrillas’ - or in modern parlance ‘terrorists’ -
ended up contributing so much to peace
and reconciliation, not only in southern Africa, but across the world.
On reflection perhaps it is not so strange. As Mandela
told the court before being sentenced to life imprisonment with hard labour: “I
have fought against white domination, and I have fought against black
domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in
which all persons live together in harmony with equal opportunities. It is an
ideal which I hope to live for, and to see realised. But, my Lord, if needs be,
it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.”
Oh that today’s political leaders had half that sort of
moral commitment.