Oscar López Rivera is a freedom fighter for the independence of Puerto Rico. He has the unenviable distinction of being the longest-held Puerto Rican political prisoner in the United States. He was charged with seditious conspiracy, that is, to conspire to end the United States government’s control over Puerto Rico through force, via membership in the Armed Forces of National Liberation (FALN). Initially, he was sentenced to 55 years in prison in 1981; later, in 1987, 15 more years were added to his sentence due to an alleged conspiracy to escape, a charge that according to his defense attorney, Jan Susler, was fabricated by the government.[1] In total, Oscar’s prison sentence amounts to 70 years. Thus far, he has completed 32 of those years. Susler, in an interview for the online newspaper Noticel, said:

Cuando lo acusan a él y los demás [nacionalistas puertorriqueños] de conspiración básicamente es porque el gobierno no sabía quién había hecho qué, ni qué específicamente habían hecho. Conspiración no es haber hecho algo. Es una acusación de haberse puesto de acuerdo para terminar con el control colonial de los Estados Unidos en Puerto Rico. Si el gobierno estadounidense supiera que estas personas hubieran cometido algo específico, los hubiesen acusado de otros delitos, pero no fue así. Ante la falta de evidencia, sólo los acusaron de conspiración sediciosa.[2]

[When he and the others [Puerto Rican nationalists] are charged with conspiracy, it’s basically because the government didn’t know who had done what, or what exactly they had done. Conspiracy is not having done something. It is a charge of having agreed to put an end to colonial control of the United States in Puerto Rico. If the U. S. government had known that they had done something specific, they would have charged them with other crimes, but that was not the case. Given the lack of evidence, they charged them only with seditious conspiracy.[3]]

When they were arrested, López Rivera and his compatriots refused to recognize U. S. jurisdiction over them, pleading that U. S. control over Puerto Rico is illegitimate and a crime against humanity, and that they should therefore be considered prisoners of war and tried before an international court. In spite of the fact that this is a valid legal argument recognized by various international judicial bodies, the U. S. government refused to accept it and tried them as common criminals.[4]

Historical background

In order to understand López Rivera’s case, it is necessary to know a little about Puerto Rican history. The territory has a century-long political status problem that dates back to the United States’ invasion of the island in 1898, during the Spanish-American War, from which the United States emerged as a world power. Until that time, the island had been one of the last colonies (along with Cuba and the Philippines) that were still left to the Spanish Empire after the wars of independence in the rest of Latin America. Since then, the island has become an overseas possession of the United States, subject to the will of Congress, which has the final word over all matters concerning Puerto Rico. With the change of sovereignty, a military government was imposed that lasted until 1900, the year Congress passed the Foraker Act, which provided for the creation of a civilian government, and English was decreed the official language of public instruction, remaining as such until 1948.

That same year, Puerto Ricans were allowed for the first time to elect their own governor. Prior to that, the President of the United States designated the governor. The current status of Puerto Rico was established in 1952, known as the Estado Libre Asociado (ELA) in Spanish and translated into English as “Commonwealth” in official documents. In practice, the ELA didn’t bring about real change in the relationship between Puerto Rico and the United States, since the territory’s sovereignty still lies in the hands of Congress and any change in the Constitution of Puerto Rico has to be approved by it. Puerto Rico doesn’t have representation before the federal government either, save for a non-voting representative in Congress known as the Resident Commissioner, nor do Puerto Ricans have the right to vote for President. The island is also obligated by law to only use U. S. ships, which are among the most expensive in the world, when transporting goods by sea.

From the time of the invasion, many struggles were fought to free Puerto Rico from U. S. domination through various means within and outside the electoral system, including armed struggle. One of the most dramatic examples of armed struggle was the nationalist uprising in 1950. José “Che” Paraliticci, states in his book Cien años tras las rejas: Historia de los presos independentistas puertorriqueños bajo el regimen de los Estados Unidos (One Hundred Years Behind Bars: The History of Pro-Independence Prisoners under the United States Regime) that, “Since the United States invaded Puerto Rico in 1898 and took possession of the country both militarily and politically, there has not been a single decade in which a supporter of independence hasn’t gone to jail, with the exception, perhaps, of the twenties.”[5] Persecution of the independence movement increased during the forties and fifties, becoming one of the most violently repressive times in its history.

The campaign to release Oscar López Rivera

Oscar López Rivera’s case is noteworthy for several reasons. Firstly, his sentence is disproportionately long, considering that he was not found guilty of any violent acts. Indeed, when he was sentenced in 1981, the average prison sentence for murder was 10.3 years, which makes his sentence over five times longer than the average sentence for murder.[6] Another noteworthy aspect is that in 1999 Bill Clinton, then President of the United States, offered him and other political prisoners a pardon if they would serve ten more years. López Rivera rejected the offer because two of his compatriots in prison, José Alberto Torres and Haydée Beltrán, were not included in it at that time. Torres and Beltrán have since been released, while López Rivera remains in prison.[7] Lastly, his case has received much international attention during the past year, with an ever-growing multitude of people advocating for his release. Supporters include examples as diverse as Ricky Martin, the musical group Calle 13, the South African Anglican Archbishop Desmond Tutu, the indigenous Guatemalan leader Rigoberta Menchú, Northern Irish peace activist Mairead Corrigan Maguire, Argentinian human rights activist Arturo Pérez Esquivel, and people from across the political spectrum in Puerto Rico, the United States, and the rest of the world.

The campaign to release López Rivera has gained momentum since 2012, which marked López Rivera’s thirtieth year in prison. There are currently several efforts and initiatives to create awareness of his case, both locally and internationally, and to pressure President Barack Obama to grant him a pardon. Some notable examples are the simultaneous protests held in the cities of San Juan (the capital of Puerto Rico), New York, Chicago, and Washington, D. C., on November 23, 2013, and the protest held every last Sunday of the month by the group 32 x Oscar. Additionally, every week El Nuevo Día, one of the main Puerto Rican newspapers, publishes the letters that López Rivera sends his granddaughter. It is very likely that the momentum and the certain urgency with which the campaign has been moving this past year is due to the fact that President Obama is in his second term in office. Since the Constitution forbids him to run for office again in 2016, there is a greater chance that the elections will be won by the candidate of the GOP, reducing considerably López Rivera’s chances of getting a pardon.

Oscar López Rivera and Nelson Mandela: Avatars of a same spirit

López Rivera’s case highlights the tensions between Puerto Rico and the United States as a result of their colonial relationship; it is an obvious example of how Puerto Ricans do not have the power to decide the fate of one of their own citizens, a fact that is instinctively felt and resented in the Puerto Rican psyche, regardless of what political affiliation one might have.[8] The case also reveals the contradictions inherent to colonialism. Recently, the world suffered the loss of Nelson Mandela, who was, like López Rivera, a political prisoner because of his struggle against apartheid in South Africa. Among the multiple tributes offered to the memory of Mandela, including from President Obama, it is easy to forget that Mandela was on the list of the United States’ most wanted terrorists until not very long ago and that his incarceration in South Africa was achieved thanks to the cooperation of the U. S. government. An event honoring Mandela was organized in New York in 1990, on occasion of his first visit to the United States after having been released from prison a few months earlier. At the time, David Dinkins was mayor of New York, the first black person to hold that office and whose campaign received the support of the Puerto Rican community. Among the organizers of the event were several Puerto Ricans that played a key role in the election of Dinkins. They proposed to invite as guests of honor Puerto Rican nationalists Lolita Lebrón, Rafael Cancel Miranda, and Oscar Collazo, who had also been political prisoners. When the Secret Service found out, they proceeded to warn Dinkins, who made public statements calling the Puerto Rican nationalists “murderers.” The irony of this episode is that at the time, Mandela was still on the same list of wanted terrorists as López Rivera.[9] Later, Mandela publicly stated that it would have been an honor for him to have shared the floor with the Puerto Rican nationalists, who, like him, fought for the liberation of their people.[10]

The similarities between Mandela and López Rivera are many. Both men share the experience of being political prisoners, both were charged with seditious conspiracy, both embraced armed struggle as a mechanism to achieve self-government, both appeared on the United States’ list of wanted terrorists, and both had the overwhelming support of their respective peoples for their release from prison. As Howard Jordan wrote in an article for the Institute of the Black World:

While Oscar López Rivera’s name does not have the international immediate name recognition of Mandela’s, the parallels are striking. Both Mandela and now Oscar López were jailed for “seditious conspiracy” for trying to overthrow a colonial government that was violating international law and committing “crimes against humanity.” Also in their respective eras Mandela and Oscar were the longest held political prisoners, receiving disproportionate sentences though having never engaged in any act of violence. Both men were also tortured, held in solitary confinement, and had barbaric acts committed against their persons in prison.

Both freedom fighters garnered calls for their release from religious leaders, Members of Congress, elected officials and celebrities. Nobel Prize Laureate and South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu stated that López’s only crime was “conspiring to free his people from the shackles of imperial injustice.”[11]

It is necessary to add that both men’s ideas about armed struggle are complex and nuanced. Both López Rivera and Mandela embraced armed struggle as a way to achieve their purposes in the belief that it is the right of all peoples to resort to it when they suffer oppression and are denied the right to self-determination. However, neither one would rejoice whenever violence was resorted to in the name of national liberation,[12] a very different attitude from that of the fanatic extremist who indiscriminately and blindly is willing to commit atrocities for the sake of an ideal, whatever it may be.

Oscar López Rivera is a political prisoner in a country that categorically denies the existence of them in its jails. But exist they do. In spite of the U. S. government’s efforts to draw attention away from that fact, and from the case of López Rivera in particular, calls for his release have been too strong to ignore. It remains to be seen whether President Obama will improve his poor record when it comes to granting pardons (the lowest of all the presidents in recent history)[13] and finally understand the enormous contradiction of being a Nobel Peace Prize winner and a warden of political prisoners at the same time.

The post Oscar López Rivera, Nelson Mandela, and U. S. Colonialism (English) appeared first on The Postcolonialist.

(Article in English)

Oscar López Rivera es un luchador por la independencia de Puerto Rico. Tiene la distinción nada envidiable de ser el prisionero político puertorriqueño en los Estados Unidos que más tiempo lleva encarcelado. El cargo que se le imputó fue conspiración sediciosa, es decir, conspirar para acabar con el dominio del gobierno estadounidense en Puerto Rico mediante la fuerza, vía membresía en las Fuerzas Armadas de Liberación Nacional (FALN). Inicialmente, fue condenado a 55 años de prisión en 1981; luego en 1987, se le añaden 15 años adicionales a su sentencia por un alegado intento de escaparse de prisión, un cargo que según su abogada, Jan Susler, fue fabricado por el gobierno estadounidense.[1] En total, la sentencia de López Rivera suma 70 años de prisión. Hasta la fecha, ha cumplido 32 de esos años. Susler, en una entrevista con el periódico digital Noticel, dijo:

Cuando lo acusan a él y los demás [nacionalistas puertorriqueños] de conspiración básicamente es porque el gobierno no sabía quién había hecho qué, ni qué específicamente habían hecho. Conspiración no es haber hecho algo. Es una acusación de haberse puesto de acuerdo para terminar con el control colonial de los Estados Unidos en Puerto Rico. Si el gobierno estadounidense supiera que estas personas hubieran cometido algo específico, los hubiesen acusado de otros delitos, pero no fue así. Ante la falta de evidencia, sólo los acusaron de conspiración sediciosa.[2]

Al ser arrestados, López Rivera y sus compatriotas se negaron a reconocer la jurisdicción de los Estados Unidos, amparándose en que el control de Estados Unidos sobre Puerto Rico es ilegítimo y un crimen contra la humanidad, y que por lo tanto, son prisioneros de guerra y sus respectivos casos deben ventilarse ante un tribunal internacional. A pesar de ser esta una posición reconocida por diversos organismos de derecho internacional, el gobierno estadounidense se negó a reconocerla y los juzgó como criminales comunes.[3]

Antecedentes históricos

Para entender el caso de López Rivera, es necesario saber un poco acerca de la historia de Puerto Rico. El país sufre un problema centenario de estatus político desde que fue invadido por los Estados Unidos en 1898, a raíz de la Guerra Hispano-Estadounidense (conocida también como la Guerra Hispanoamericana), de donde Estados Unidos emergió como una potencia mundial. Hasta ese momento, la isla había sido una de las últimas colonias (junto con Cuba y las Filipinas) que le quedaban al Imperio Español luego de las guerras de independencia del resto de Latinoamérica. Desde entonces, la isla se convirtió en posesión de ultramar de los Estados Unidos, sujeta a la voluntad del Congreso estadounidense, el cual tiene la última palabra sobre los asuntos concernientes a Puerto Rico. Con el cambio de soberanía, se impuso un gobierno militar que duró hasta 1900, año en que el Congreso aprobó la Ley Foraker, que proveyó para la creación de un gobierno civil, y se decretó el inglés como idioma oficial de enseñanza pública, el cual se mantuvo hasta 1948.

En este mismo año se le permitió a los puertorriqueños elegir mediante el voto a su propio gobernador. Hasta la fecha, el gobernador era designado por el Presidente de los Estados Unidos. En 1952 se estableció el estatus actual de Puerto Rico, conocido como el Estado Libre Asociado (ELA), traducido al inglés en documentos oficiales como Commonwealth. En la práctica, el ELA no trajo un cambio real en las relaciones entre Puerto Rico y Estados Unidos, ya que la soberanía del país sigue en manos del Congreso y cualquier cambio a la Constitución de Puerto Rico tiene que contar con su visto bueno. Puerto Rico tampoco cuenta con representación ante el gobierno federal, salvo por un Comisionado Residente que no tiene derecho al voto en el Congreso. Los habitantes de Puerto Rico tampoco tienen derecho al voto presidencial. La isla está obligada por ley, además, a utilizar exclusivamente la marina mercante estadounidense, la cual se encuentra entre las más caras del mundo.

Desde el momento de la invasión, se luchó para librar a Puerto Rico del dominio estadounidense por distintos medios dentro y fuera del sistema electoral, incluyendo la lucha armada. Uno de los ejemplos más dramáticos de lucha armada fue la insurrección nacionalista ocurrida en 1950. José “Che” Paraliticci, en su libro Cien años tras las rejas: Historia de los presos independentistas puertorriqueños bajo el régimen de los Estados Unidos, escribió: “Desde que Estados Unidos invadió a Puerto Rico en 1898 y comenzó a regir política y militarmente sobre el país, no ha habido una sola década en que algún independentista no haya ido a la cárcel, tal vez con la excepción de la década del veinte.”[4] La persecución del independentismo se agudizó durante las décadas del cuarenta y cincuenta, convirtiéndose en uno de los momentos en que más violentamente se reprimió.

La campaña para excarcelar a Oscar López Rivera

El caso de López Rivera llama la atención por distintas razones. Primeramente, su sentencia es desproporcionalmente excesiva, considerando que no se le halló culpable de ningún acto violento. De hecho, cuando fue sentenciado en 1981, el promedio de años impuesto como sentencia por asesinato era de 10.3, lo que hace su sentencia sobre cinco veces más larga que el promedio por asesinato.[5] Otro aspecto que llama la atención es que en 1999 el entonces Presidente de los Estados Unidos, Bill Clinton, le ofreció a él y a otros prisioneros políticos un indulto si cumplían diez años más. López Rivera lo rechazó porque no se le extendió a dos de sus compatriotas en prisión, José Alberto Torres y Haydée Beltrán. Actualmente, Torres y Beltrán ya han sido excarcelados, mientras López Rivera sigue en prisión.[6] Por último, se destaca la atención internacional que su caso ha recibido en el último año, con un coro de voces abogando por su excarcelación entre las cuales se pueden contar ejemplos tan diversos como el cantante Ricky Martin, el grupo musical Calle 13, el arzobispo anglicano sudafricano Desmond Tutu, la líder indígena guatemalteca Rigoberta Menchú, la activista por la paz norirlandesa Mairead Corrigan Maguire, el activista argentino por los derechos humanos Arturo Pérez Esquivel y personas de todos los sectores políticos en Puerto Rico, en Estados Unidos y el resto del mundo.

La campaña para excarcelar a López Rivera ha cobrado ímpetu desde el 2012, al cumplirse 30 años de su encarcelación. Actualmente existen varios esfuerzos e iniciativas para crear conciencia del caso, tanto a nivel local como internacional, y para presionar al Presidente Barack Obama a que le conceda un indulto. Algunos ejemplos notables son las marchas simultáneas celebradas en las ciudades de San Juan, Nueva York, Chicago y Washington, D. C. el 23 de noviembre de 2013 y la manifestación realizada el último domingo de cada mes por el grupo 32 x Oscar. Adicionalmente, cada semana el periódico El Nuevo Día publica las cartas que López Rivera le envía a su nieta. Es muy probable que el ímpetu y la cierta urgencia con que se ha llevado a cabo la campaña en el último año para la excarcelación de López Rivera tenga que ver con el hecho de que el Presidente Obama esté en su segundo término. Al no poder postularse nuevamente en las elecciones de 2016 por disposición constitucional, es más probable que salga electo un candidato del GOP, aminorando considerablemente las probabilidades de conseguir un indulto para López Rivera.

Oscar López Rivera y Nelson Mandela: Avatares del mismo espíritu

El caso de López Rivera expone las tensiones entre Puerto Rico y los Estados Unidos, producto de su relación colonial al ser un ejemplo obvio de cómo los puertorriqueños no tienen poder para decidir el destino de uno de sus ciudadanos, algo que instintivamente se (re)siente en la psiquis puertorriqueña, independientemente de las afiliaciones o simpatías políticas de cada cual.[7] El caso también revela las contradicciones inherentes al coloniaje. Recientemente, el mundo sufrió la pérdida de Nelson Mandela, quien fue, al igual que López Rivera, prisionero político por su lucha contra el apartheid en Sudáfrica. En medio de los múltiples honores ofrecidos a la memoria de Mandela, incluyendo de parte del Presidente Obama, es fácil olvidar que Mandela figuró en la lista de los terroristas más buscados de los Estados Unidos hasta hace poco y que su encarcelación en Sudáfrica se dio gracias a la cooperación del gobierno estadounidense. En 1990 se le organizó un homenaje a Mandela en la ciudad de Nueva York, en ocasión de su visita a los Estados Unidos a los pocos meses de haber sido excarcelado. Para aquel entonces, el alcalde era David Dinkins, el primer alcalde negro que había tenido Nueva York y cuya campaña recibió el apoyo de la comunidad puertorriqueña. Entre los organizadores del homenaje había varios puertorriqueños que jugaron un papel clave en la elección de Dinkins. Estos propusieron que se invitaran a compartir tarima con Mandela a los nacionalistas puertorriqueños Lolita Lebrón, Rafael Cancel Miranda y Oscar Collazo, quienes también habían sido prisioneros políticos. Al enterarse el Servicio Secreto de la intención de los organizadores, se comunicaron con Dinkins, quien hizo declaraciones públicas tildando a los nacionalistas puertorriqueños de “asesinos”. Lo irónico de este episodio es que para ese entonces Mandela todavía aparecía en la misma lista de terroristas que López Rivera.[8] Más adelante, Mandela declaró públicamente que hubiera sido un honor para él compartir tarima con los nacionalistas puertorriqueños, que al igual que él, luchaban por la liberación de su pueblo.[9]

Las similitudes entre Mandela y López Rivera son varias. Ambos hombres comparten la experiencia de ser prisioneros políticos, ambos fueron acusados de conspiración sediciosa, ambos abrazaron la lucha armada como mecanismo para alcanzar el autogobierno, ambos figuraron en la lista de terroristas de los Estados Unidos y ambos contaron con el apoyo abrumador de sus respectivos pueblos para su excarcelación. Como escribió Howard Jordan en un artículo para el Institute of the Black World:

While Oscar López Rivera’s name does not have the international immediate name recognition of Mandela’s, the parallels are striking. Both Mandela and now Oscar López were jailed for “seditious conspiracy” for trying to overthrow a colonial government that was violating international law and committing “crimes against humanity.” Also in their respective eras Mandela and Oscar were the longest held political prisoners, receiving disproportionate sentences though having never engaged in any act of violence. Both men were also tortured, held in solitary confinement, and had barbaric acts committed against their persons in prison.

Both freedom fighters garnered calls for their release from religious leaders, Members of Congress, elected officials and celebrities. Nobel Prize Laureate and South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu stated that López’s only crime was “conspiring to free his people from the shackles of imperial injustice.”[10]

Sobre la lucha armada es necesario añadir que las visiones de ambos hombres sobre la violencia son complejas. Tanto López Rivera como Mandela abogaron por la lucha armada para lograr sus objetivos en el sentido de que es el derecho de todo pueblo recurrir a ella cuando se le oprime y se le niega su derecho a la autodeterminación. Sin embargo, ninguno se regocijaba cuando se recurría a la violencia en nombre de la liberación nacional,[11] una actitud muy diferente del extremista fanático que indiscriminada y ciegamente está dispuesto a cometer atrocidades en nombre de su ideal, sea el que sea.

Oscar López Rivera es un prisionero político en un país que niega categóricamente la existencia de ellos en sus cárceles. Sin embargo, efectivamente los tiene. A pesar del esfuerzo llevado a cabo por el gobierno estadounidense para invisibilizar esta realidad, y en particular el caso de Oscar, el reclamo para su excarcelación ha sido demasiado fuerte como para ignorarse. Queda por ver si el Presidente Obama mejorará su pobre récord de conceder indultos (el más bajo de todos los presidentes en historia reciente)[12] y entenderá la profunda contradicción de ser ganador de un Premio Nobel de la Paz, y a la vez, carcelero de prisioneros políticos.

The post Oscar López Rivera, Nelson Mandela y el colonialismo de los Estados Unidos (Español) appeared first on The Postcolonialist.

Our nation’s mourning after his passing impacted the South African psyche in strange and unexpected ways. On the one hand the nation knew that Mandela’s death was imminent; on the other, when word was received of his passing, there was a tangible sense of loss. We as a people found a gap of unimaginable size in our consciousness, one that would probably never again be filled in our lifetime. Particularly for South Africans, Nelson Mandela represented the fiction that comprised the core foundation of our modern nation state. Who are we without our symbol of justice, dignity, equality, freedom, humanity?

Mourning Mandela has again united South Africans as they pay tribute to the father of our modern nation. However, unlike gatherings of a similar magnitude that occurred during the earlier years of democracy, Mandela’s passing coincides with the country ushering in almost 20 years of democratic rule. Gatherings during the Mandela era heralded signs of hope and a vision of creating a society built on the foundation of dignity. Yet, democracy has not brought with it the accompanying elements of justice and equality, as South Africa has quickly become the most unequal country in the world. We have become accustomed to the regular spurts of protest action, which appear to have increased with escalating violence over recent years. While these past days have been largely celebratory, there also seems to be a looming feeling in the air that this may well be the last occasion that South Africans unite in common humanity.

“Madiba magic” has allowed South Africans the privilege to overlook our inadequacies. Each faction of society can genuinely identify with some aspect of the man Mandela was. The visionary leadership and wisdom of the African National Congress (ANC) liberation movement, which cautiously strategised South Africa’s revolution, housed a leadership that listened to the heartbeat of the country’s oppressed people and was able to unite them in spite of the barriers that apartheid attempted to impose on them. This leadership responded quickly and effectively to the needs of its people. It pushed ideological boundaries and resorted to force where necessary, yet remained firm in its ideals. Most importantly, the ANC instilled in its members and followers the identity of global citizenship and an understanding that the struggle against apartheid was in solidarity with all of the world’s oppressed people. Through literature, music and art, dignity was reclaimed despite the apartheid regime’s every attempt to rip it away. The message transcended the distance that eventually separated the movement from its leadership.

Nelson Mandela was indeed a complex man. He was a patriarchal Xhosa chief, yet an ardent advocate for gender equality; a traditional family man who supported gay rights; and a commander in chief that understood the need for armed resistance in the quest for peace and justice. He was a rare example of the essence of human rights activism, a man who had the ability to separate the personal from the political in the fight for a unified and democratic South Africa.

However, as a young South African who grew up amid the country’s liberation movement, I am both saddened and angered that the complexities of Mandela as a fellow human being who was diverse in his identity, have been largely overlooked in order to appease a political agenda. The image of the awe-inspiring, all forgiving grandfather has also absolved those who previously benefitted from apartheid and continue to do so, as well as the elite few who gained substantially from the transition to democracy and who have avoided interrogating the depths of their privilege. The promise of wealth redistribution articulated in the Freedom Charter for which millions of South Africans sacrificed their lives has thus been halted in preference of maintaining power by all means possible. Part of Mandela’s purpose in forgiving his oppressors was to free them from the burden of guilt imposed by a system that effectively denied white people their dignity too. And yet, many have interpreted this act to mean that apartheid no longer bears any relevance to the development of modern day South Africa.

History has a tendency of being whitewashed as holders of authority pursue the maintenance of power. As the face of the ANC, both locally and abroad, the image of Nelson Mandela was always carefully crafted by the party leadership in order to achieve the specific objectives of the time. His identity became inseparable from that of the movement and from his vision for South Africa and the world – a remarkably selfless act that has escalated a mortal human being to super human status. It is the nature of this sacrifice that resonates deeply with me as an individual who is now able to forge my destiny on my own terms. Thanks to the sacrifices of others, I am completely in control of and responsible for the choices I make as I embark on my own journey towards my life’s purpose.

South Africa now moves into the post-Mandela phase. It presents an opportunity for the country to set its own path inspired by the teachings of Mandela, but without the accompanying pressure of having to live up to the world’s expectations. The structural fissures that have emerged and somewhat deepened as a legacy of apartheid now need to be unapologetically addressed. Mandela’s message of forgiveness cannot be mistaken as forgetting all of the horrors of the country’s past. Ironically, the pride that comes with being a product of the Mandela generation has also resulted in many South Africans assuming a position of arrogance, as Mandela’s legacy is manipulated to maintain the status quo. A rising prevalence of South African exceptionalism with regards to the rest of the African continent, in addition to entrenching the positions of an elite minority at the expense of the country’s millions who remain oppressed in poverty, are cause for concern.

There needs to be acknowledgment that without economic liberation and the attainment of basic rights for all, we cannot develop a society based on the foundation of human dignity. If the socio-economic barriers that currently prevent the majority of South Africans from living a dignified life are not adequately and effectively addressed, Mandela’s image, as well as his teachings, will sadly become irrelevant and ultimately forgotten.  At a recent interfaith memorial service hosted by the Nelson Mandela Foundation, ANC veteran Tokyo Sexwale stated:

“Now that the prophet’s lips are sealed and his body is about to enter the ground, which of his disciples will step forward and speak out for human rights, freedom, equality and social justice?”

South Africa, stand up.

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