“Stories of hard-right elements in the Federation of Conservative Students producing ‘Hang Nelson Mandela’ badges were a particularly visceral example of how he was viewed by many in the Tories’ ranks, but complicity with apartheid went right to the top.”
In our Red Weekly Column, Ben Hayes looks at the lasting impact of Nelson Mandela’s legacy, 35 years on from his release from prison.
Two anniversaries relating to significant figures in political history are being marked this month: 50 years since the election of Margaret Thatcher as Leader of the Conservative Party, and 35 since Nelson Mandela’s release after more than a quarter of a century of imprisonment by South Africa’s apartheid government.
The official position of every subsequent British Prime Minister would likely be that they view the legacies of both these figures with some degree of positivity. Thatcher remains a Tory icon: indeed, on the party’s website you can buy a special range of 50th anniversary merchandise: with themed posters, notepads, aprons, tea towels, mugs, glassware, laptop stickers, bottles, tote bags, and wallets all available (alas, for any readers looking for a late Valentine’s gift, the Toby Jugs are currently out of stock). Whilst perhaps feeling the need to be somewhat less enthusiastic in tone, numerous Labour leaders have paid tribute to her tenure: Tony Blair explained that he “always thought my job was to build on some of the things she had done, rather than reverse them”, and Keir Starmer has praised her for having “set loose our natural entrepreneurialism”. Mandela, meanwhile, is heralded as one of the great humanitarian icons of his age, with a statue of him having stood in Parliament Square since 2007.
Whilst both of them are spoken of highly by the majority of those who have occupied Parliament’s frontbenches over the past three decades, the years where Thatcher was in office and Mandela was locked up did not exactly spawn a firm alliance. Stories of hard-right elements in the Federation of Conservative Students producing ‘Hang Nelson Mandela’ badges were a particularly visceral example of how he was viewed by many in the Tories’ ranks, but complicity with apartheid went right to the top. The British government, whilst formally claiming to raise the case of Mandela with South African representatives and viewing its apartheid system as unhelpful for the image of their foreign policy, strongly resisted calls for sanctions. In 1984, Thatcher invited P. W. Botha for the first state visit to Britain by a South African leader for 23 years, and in a 1987 letter she infamously attacked the ANC as “a typical terrorist organisation”.
It is important to remember, however, that this stance was not simply a reflection of a widespread social attitude which the country has now moved on from – huge numbers of people in Britain lent their support to the international solidarity movement against apartheid. For many, this took the form of everyday acts: like boycotting South African goods, refusing to bank with Barclays until it cut ties, and getting ‘Free Nelson Mandela’ into the top 10 of the British charts (he even had the tower block which was home to the Trotter family in Only Fools and Horses named after him). These initiatives were the products of a mass organised movement which built up strong networks throughout civil society – bringing together campaigners, faith communities, and trade unions.
In the same spirit as the remarkable three-year strike sparked by Mary Manning at Dunnes Stores in Dublin, journalists at the International Publishing Corporation successfully called on their management to refuse South African government adverts, NHS staff in Portsmouth refused to handle medical equipment, and workers at Rolls Royce blocked the importation of pick-up trucks. As documented in the London Recruits book and now portrayed in film, a small but committed group even travelled to provide practical assistance to the anti-apartheid struggle.
In terms of elected representatives, there was a notable crossover between many of those who were most active in challenging the British government’s position and the strongest opponents of its domestic agenda – with the late Tony Benn being the first Member of Parliament to table a motion condemning apartheid. The Greater London Council, then under the leadership of Ken Livingstone, issued a declaration against all links between the capital and South Africa in 1983 and invited exiled ANC President Oliver Tambo to give the closing speech at its London Against Racism rally the following year (Livingstone also played a key role in pushing for Mandela’s statue in Parliament Square during his tenure as Mayor decades later). And the photograph of Islington North MP Jeremy Corbyn being arrested on an anti-apartheid picket of South Africa House reflected a long history in the borough – with the ANC’s London offices (which were bombed by South African secret police in 1982) being hosted in Angel, the 1986 Music For Mandela fundraiser taking place in Islington Town Hall, and a concert celebrating democratic elections in 1994 put on in Highbury Fields.
No analysis of this dynamic is complete without understanding the politics of Mandela himself. Coming from a revolutionary background, he not only acknowledged and appreciated the support he had received from throughout the world- but saw the fight against apartheid as part of a global struggle for peace, justice and liberation. His words on the 1997 International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People that “we know too well that our freedom is incomplete without the freedom of the Palestinians“ not only continue to be quoted on demonstrations for Palestine across the globe today, but reflect his deep commitment to internationalism.
At a time when Cuba was particularly isolated, he refused to downplay its historic role in the defeat of apartheid through the Battle of Cuito Cuanavale – visiting the country in 1991 and speaking of a shared fight “for the oppressed masses to ensure that those who make the wealth enjoy its fruits.”
The fact that Gerry Adams was invited to be part of an international guard of honour at his funeral service spoke to the longstanding ties between the anti-apartheid movement and Irish republicanism (with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission being a notable influence on the peace process), and in his later years he strongly denounced the war in Iraq – stating that Tony Blair was “no longer Prime Minister of Britain (…) but Foreign Minister of the United States”.
Much contemporary mainstream discourse on Mandela undoubtedly has a tendency to focus on his remarkable resilience and spirit, whilst often quietly separating him from many of the principles he fought for. The latter stages of the last Parliament saw “enemy within”-style rhetoric about Palestine solidarity demonstrations and proposals for legislation to outlaw boycott campaigns discussed in the building located less than a minute away from his statue. This, and the economic limitations of what could be achieved in government in an era where ‘the end of history’ had been declared, have led elements on the left to adopt a somewhat pessimistic assessment of his legacy today (other articles are better placed to cover debates in relation to the contemporary internal politics of South Africa).
However, the fact that he is so widely regarded as one of the great historical figures of his era should be cause for celebration and seen as an opportunity to discuss the vision which drove his life’s work. Indeed, at a time when there is a debate throughout many parts of the left about questions relating to oppression and populism, there is a lot that can be learned from his approach upon taking office.
Mandela’s model for a new republic, as well as addressing the key question of freedom and democratic rights for black citizens, also recognised the need to tackle specific issues faced by a range of groups in South African society: bringing forward legislation on domestic violence and discussing the importance of combating chauvinistic attitudes towards women, ensuring the new constitution was the world’s first to specifically outlaw discrimination based on sexual orientation, and launching a series of initiatives on disability rights (emphasising the need not to “forget or to relegate to secondary importance the vast discrimination against disabled persons”). This was done within the unifying ‘rainbow nation’ framework first coined by Archbishop Desmond Tutu- illustrating that progress on equality and a majoritarian perspective can be successfully combined, and demonstrating the combination of principle and strategic thinking which made Mandela such a respected leader.
There are numerous organisations which do important work in preserving the legacy of Nelson Mandela. Perhaps the most powerful tribute of all is the fact that, 35 years on from his release, he continues to inspire people across our planet who believe that humanity can achieve a better future.
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