19 February 2010 Let's have the magic By BARNEY MTHOMBOTHI It is often said that a prophet is rarely appreciated in his own country, especially during his lifetime. Anybody in parliament last week could not have been left in any doubt about the love and affection that Nelson Mandela enjoys among his countrymen.

His entrance in parliament brought the house down. The adoration for the man knows no bounds. It cuts across all political or ideological affiliations. Why then, amid all this adulation, do his principles - which incidentally made him the man we admire so much - seem like an afterthought ? Why are we trampling his legacy? Mandela was big on symbolic gesture. The sunset clause allowed him to form a government of national unity which included FW de Klerk's defeated National Party and Mangosuthu Buthelezi. He tried and failed to get Tony Leon on board. He went out on a limb to merge the two anthems into one, which still grates on some to this day. The fact that the national rugby team are still called the Springboks and wear the Springbok emblem is thanks to him. His role in the 1995 Springbok World Cup victory is well documented. And he made the journey to Orania for that famous encounter with Betsie Verwoerd. Mandela understood the importance of symbols. One cannot, for instance, imagine him approving of the rash name-changing of places and things. 'Mandela's policy of reconciliation eschewed rancour, bitterness or revenge and sought to bring people of different races together' His policy of reconciliation eschewed rancour, bitterness or revenge and instead sought to bring people, especially the different races, together. He also stood for honesty in public life and civility in public discourse. Insults had no place in national dialogue. To him, political foes were never beyond the pale. They were not enemies. They were people to reach out to, to understand their motives in order to reach an accommodation. Thabo Mbeki chucked all that out when he succeeded him. The two could not have been more different. When asked about his chances of adequately filling Mandela's gargantuan shoes, Mbeki famously retorted: "I don't want Mandela's shoes. Mandela's shoes are ugly." It was more than Mandela's shoes that had no appeal for him. Whereas Mandela sought to bridge the racial gap and mollify the African's historic grievance against colonialism, Mbeki saw these things as fertile ground to exploit for political gain. His philosophy was encapsulated in what he called the "African renaissance". In a nutshell, it was to encourage or fight for the primacy of all people of African descent in every sphere, at home or abroad. That informed every policy he pursued, be it his approach to empowerment, HIV/Aids, or his unflinching defence of Robert Mugabe; and he used his position as leader of the biggest economy in Africa to place the concerns of poor countries on the international agenda. Ironically, it was his constant absence from home that was to prove his undoing. President Jacob Zuma seems to have no organising idea. He readily admits his views are immaterial; he implements ANC policies. Which perhaps explains why things seem to be falling apart. A glance at the past will alert him to the huge impact leaders have had on the makeup of the party. Mandela re invigorated the ANC's nonracial ethos; Mbeki turned it into an angry Africanist juggernaut. So what will Zuma's imprimatur be? In his address last week, he quoted liberally from the great man's speeches as if to bask in his afterglow. There's no doubt he'd love to exploit the obvious hunger for Mandela's message. But he lacks the intellectual or persuasive powers of his predecessors. But we also tend to underestimate Mbeki's success in drilling his message into the public consciousness. That makes a difficult hurdle to jump for those yearning for a return to the halcyon days of Madiba magic.