The Apartheid Museum at Johannesburg is an uplifting example of a nation coming to terms with the truth of its own past. There are not many countries – including the one of my birth – which possesses the maturity or courage to build a reminder as stark as this of all that was ugly in the very recent past.
As visitors silently file past photographs and memorabilia and films and explanatory sign posts, there is no rancor, just the hush of awe and reverence. School children and grown ups look similarly affected.
Nelson Mandela is everywhere, of course. The greatest man alive (in my book), he was at the heart of the movement that restored dignity to all, irrespective of the colour of the skin. He is a miracle. What else explains the complete absence of bitterness after 30 years of incarceration? Who would expect that a man cheated out of much of his life would aggressively push for reconciliation among all?
Watching his triumphant return on film is a moving experience. The glory and the adulation of the stupendous welcome he received in 1990, his inauguration as the President, his appearance at the Rugby World Cup wearing South African captain’s jersey (South Africa snatched victory from the fancied New Zealand team in the dying moments) and his meetings with leaders and celebrities are just – if small – rewards for this colossus.
South Africa is far from ‘cured’. But it is hard to imagine that this nation freed itself from such a burden only 15 years ago. I am certain that the idea that apartheid has gone forever has taken root – but I am not sure if everyone is orientated to the new reality. Human mind, after all, takes time to reconcile. Walking through the Apartheid Museum is one exercise that can help.
No comments:
Post a Comment