The following is the full speech given by US president Barack Obama at the memorial service of Nelson Mandela.
To Graça Machel and the Mandela family; to President Zuma and
members of the government; to heads of state and government, past and present;
distinguished guests - it is a singular honor to be with you today, to
celebrate a life unlike any other. To the people of South Africa - people
of every race and walk of life - the world thanks you for sharing Nelson
Mandela with us. His struggle was your struggle. His triumph was
your triumph. Your dignity and hope found expression in his life, and
your freedom, your democracy is his cherished legacy.
It is hard to eulogize any man -
to capture in words not just the facts and the dates that make a life, but the
essential truth of a person - their private joys and sorrows; the quiet moments
and unique qualities that illuminate someone’s soul. How much harder to
do so for a giant of history, who moved a nation toward justice, and in the
process moved billions around the world.
Born during World War I, far from
the corridors of power, a boy raised herding cattle and tutored by elders of
his Thembu tribe - Madiba would emerge as the last great liberator of the 20th
century. Like Gandhi, he would lead a resistance movement - a movement
that at its start held little prospect of success. Like King, he would
give potent voice to the claims of the oppressed, and the moral necessity of
racial justice. He would endure a brutal imprisonment that began in the
time of Kennedy and Khrushchev, and reached the final days of the Cold
War. Emerging from prison, without force of arms, he would - like Lincoln
- hold his country together when it threatened to break apart. Like
America’s founding fathers, he would erect a constitutional order to preserve
freedom for future generations - a commitment to democracy and rule of law
ratified not only by his election, but by his willingness to step down from
power.
Given the sweep of his life, and
the adoration that he so rightly earned, it is tempting then to remember Nelson
Mandela as an icon, smiling and serene, detached from the tawdry affairs of
lesser men. But Madiba himself strongly resisted such a lifeless
portrait. Instead, he insisted on sharing with us his doubts and fears; his
miscalculations along with his victories. “I’m not a saint,” he said,
“unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying.”
It was precisely because he could
admit to imperfection - because he could be so full of good humor, even
mischief, despite the heavy burdens he carried - that we loved him so. He
was not a bust made of marble; he was a man of flesh and blood - a son and
husband, a father and a friend. That is why we learned so much from him;
that is why we can learn from him still. For nothing he achieved was
inevitable. In the arc of his life, we see a man who earned his place in
history through struggle and shrewdness; persistence and faith. He tells
us what’s possible not just in the pages of dusty history books, but in our own
lives as well.
Mandela showed us the power of
action; of taking risks on behalf of our ideals. Perhaps Madiba was right
that he inherited, “a proud rebelliousness, a stubborn sense of fairness” from
his father. Certainly he shared with millions of black and colored South
Africans the anger born of, “a thousand slights, a thousand indignities, a
thousand unremembered moments…a desire to fight the system that imprisoned my
people.”
But like other early giants of
the ANC - the Sisulus and Tambos - Madiba disciplined his anger; and channeled
his desire to fight into organization, and platforms, and strategies for
action, so men and women could stand-up for their dignity. Moreover, he
accepted the consequences of his actions, knowing that standing up to powerful
interests and injustice carries a price. “I have fought against white
domination and I have fought against black domination,” he said at his 1964
trial. “I’ve cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which
all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is
an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is
an ideal for which I am prepared to die.”
Mandela taught us the power of
action, but also ideas; the importance of reason and arguments; the need to
study not only those you agree with, but those who you don’t. He
understood that ideas cannot be contained by prison walls, or extinguished by a
sniper’s bullet. He turned his trial into an indictment of apartheid
because of his eloquence and passion, but also his training as an advocate. He
used decades in prison to sharpen his arguments, but also to spread his thirst
for knowledge to others in the movement. And he learned the language and
customs of his oppressor so that one day he might better convey to them how
their own freedom depended upon his.
Mandela demonstrated that action
and ideas are not enough; no matter how right, they must be chiseled into laws
and institutions. He was practical, testing his beliefs against the hard
surface of circumstance and history. On core principles he was
unyielding, which is why he could rebuff offers of conditional release,
reminding the Apartheid regime that, “prisoners cannot enter into
contracts.” But as he showed in painstaking negotiations to transfer
power and draft new laws, he was not afraid to compromise for the sake of a
larger goal. And because he was not only a leader of a movement, but a
skillful politician, the Constitution that emerged was worthy of this multiracial
democracy; true to his vision of laws that protect minority as well as majority
rights, and the precious freedoms of every South African.
Finally, Mandela understood the
ties that bind the human spirit. There is a word in South Africa- Ubuntu
- that describes his greatest gift: his recognition that we are all bound
together in ways that can be invisible to the eye; that there is a oneness to
humanity; that we achieve ourselves by sharing ourselves with others, and
caring for those around us. We can never know how much of this was innate
in him, or how much of was shaped and burnished in a dark, solitary cell.
But we remember the gestures, large and small - introducing his jailors as
honored guests at his inauguration; taking the pitch in a Springbok uniform;
turning his family’s heartbreak into a call to confront HIV/AIDS - that
revealed the depth of his empathy and understanding. He not only embodied
Ubuntu; he taught millions to find that truth within themselves. It took
a man like Madiba to free not just the prisoner, but the jailor as well; to
show that you must trust others so that they may trust you; to teach that
reconciliation is not a matter of ignoring a cruel past, but a means of
confronting it with inclusion, generosity and truth. He changed laws, but also
hearts.
For the people of South Africa,
for those he inspired around the globe - Madiba’s passing is rightly a time of
mourning, and a time to celebrate his heroic life. But I believe it
should also prompt in each of us a time for self-reflection. With honesty,
regardless of our station or circumstance, we must ask: how well have I
applied his lessons in my own life?
It is a question I ask myself -
as a man and as a President. We know that like South Africa, the United
States had to overcome centuries of racial subjugation. As was true here,
it took the sacrifice of countless people - known and unknown - to see the dawn
of a new day. Michelle and I are the beneficiaries of that
struggle. But in America and South Africa, and countries around the
globe, we cannot allow our progress to cloud the fact that our work is not
done. The struggles that follow the victory of formal equality and
universal franchise may not be as filled with drama and moral clarity as those
that came before, but they are no less important. For around the world
today, we still see children suffering from hunger, and disease; run-down
schools, and few prospects for the future. Around the world today, men
and women are still imprisoned for their political beliefs; and are still
persecuted for what they look like, or how they worship, or who they love.
We, too, must act on behalf of
justice. We, too, must act on behalf of peace. There are too many
of us who happily embrace Madiba’s legacy of racial reconciliation, but
passionately resist even modest reforms that would challenge chronic poverty
and growing inequality. There are too many leaders who claim solidarity
with Madiba’s struggle for freedom, but do not tolerate dissent from their own
people. And there are too many of us who stand on the sidelines,
comfortable in complacency or cynicism when our voices must be heard.
The questions we face today - how
to promote equality and justice; to uphold freedom and human rights; to end
conflict and sectarian war - do not have easy answers. But there were no
easy answers in front of that child in Qunu. Nelson Mandela reminds us
that it always seems impossible until it is done. South Africa shows us
that is true. South Africa shows us we can change. We can choose to
live in a world defined not by our differences, but by our common hopes.
We can choose a world defined not by conflict, but by peace and justice and
opportunity.
We will never see the likes of
Nelson Mandela again. But let me say to the young people of Africa, and
young people around the world - you can make his life’s work your own.
Over thirty years ago, while still a student, I learned of Mandela and the
struggles in this land. It stirred something in me. It woke me up
to my responsibilities - to others, and to myself - and set me on an improbable
journey that finds me here today. And while I will always fall short of
Madiba’s example, he makes me want to be better. He speaks to what is
best inside us. After this great liberator is laid to rest; when we have
returned to our cities and villages, and rejoined our daily routines, let us
search then for his strength - for his largeness of spirit - somewhere inside
ourselves. And when the night grows dark, when injustice weighs heavy on
our hearts, or our best laid plans seem beyond our reach - think of Madiba, and
the words that brought him comfort within the four walls of a cell:
It matters not how strait the
gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
What a great soul it was.
We will miss him deeply. May God bless the memory of Nelson
Mandela. May God bless the people of South Africa.
US President Barack Obama is the author of Audacity of Hope and Dreams From My Father. Nelson Mandela, a former South African president and ANC leader, is author of Long Walk to Freedom.
