Joan Burton (Dublin West, Labour) | Oireachtas source

On behalf of the Labour Party, I wish to express my deep sadness on the death of Nelson Mandela, Madiba, a man who it can truly be said changed the world for the better. If I speak with great sadness, I also speak with the great conviction that the example Mandela set in fighting injustice, poverty and inequality will not be forgotten.

In his long life, Nelson Mandela was many things - the young boy born of the soil of the Eastern Cape, the educated, trailblazing young lawyer in Johannesburg, the political activist who educated his comrades and so many of his people, the prisoner whose personal fortitude gave strength to millions, the President who sought to bring about the unity of the South African people and create the rainbow nation, and the man who became an inspiration to the world.

He once stated: "It always seems impossible until it is done". I think it is fair to say that few of us genuinely thought that the hated apartheid system would ever end in our lifetimes. Nelson Mandela thought differently, and through his courage and conviction, the tyrannical system was brought crashing down.

As someone who was both a long-standing member and honorary secretary of the Irish Anti-Apartheid Movement and who lived in Africa for a number of years, I saw up close both the struggle to free South Africa and the solidarity shown by campaigners across the world. I lived in Tanzania in the early to mid-1980s. It was then the home from home for many African National Congress, ANC, exiles and I was privileged to get to know some of them, including the late Marius Schoon, who was working in the ANC Solomon Mahlangu Freedom College, SOMAFCO, in Mazimbu, central Tanzania. It was a time of some considerable apprehension among those exiles because the apartheid regime's military might was strengthening, a development that superficially at least appeared to guarantee its indefinite continuance.

Despite this military might, however, the apartheid system's fundamental weaknesses were being exposed to the world. The continued imprisonment on Robben Island of Mandela, Walter Sisulu and others was provoking intense international anger. It was the time when the call to boycott apartheid was being heard all over the world. Companies had to choose between active disinvestment or a consumer boycott, while even the US Congress was moving towards a comprehensive sanctions policy. Films such as "Cry Freedom" and "A World Apart" were filling cinemas and telling the world the stories of Donald Woods, Joe Slovo and Ruth First. Eventually, even the regime's military superiority came under threat, as it was unable to overcome or contain the freedom struggles in neighbouring countries like Namibia that threatened to surround South Africa with ANC-friendly states.

All of these separate components came together in one massive campaign to secure the release of Nelson Mandela and the political recognition of the ANC within South Africa. It was a powerful demonstration of how a mass movement could overcome the entrenched power of a dictatorial system. Numerous of my friends, colleagues, campaigners and I watched Mandela's historic release from prison in 1990 in the home of Kader Asmal and his wife Louise, the founders of the Irish Anti-Apartheid Movement. Our initial fear that something would happen to derail the release turned to overwhelming joy that he was finally free.

On that note, like the Taoiseach I want to salute all those Irish friends of South Africa, ranging from the many missionaries and organisations such as Trócaire to the Dunnes Stores workers, the wider trade union movement and people of all political convictions and none, who took Mandela's side and waged the fight to end apartheid.

While his release was a defining moment for campaigners, Mandela himself knew it was only a further step along the very long road. Years of patient negotiation for a new constitutional settlement, securing the agreement to free elections and the hard slog of office still lay ahead. Our own Kader Asmal was heavily involved in the constitutional talks and I recall vividly his description of the many obstacles that he had to overcome.

Nelson Mandela's approach to these obstacles was built on two foundations, one political and one personal. His political approach was based on the principles of the Freedom Charter, which was to him and the ANC the equivalent of the US Declaration of Independence. The charter, adopted in 1955 at Kliptown, set out in bold, unequivocal terms what he and his colleagues wanted to achieve. The first clause of the charter is stark and simple:

WE, THE PEOPLE OF SOUTH AFRICA, declare for all our country and the world to know:

that South Africa belongs to all who live in it, black and white,

and that no government can justly claim authority unless it is based on the will of all the people.

Principles are one thing, and the personal negotiating skills involved in delivering them are quite another. This was Nelson Mandela’s second pillar of strength. He displayed consummate negotiating skills, combining patience and a shrewd eye for political advantage. In his memoir, Kader Asmal mentioned that Mandela had been a renowned boxer in his youth. He said: “In his political sparring, thrusting and counter-thrusting, feinting and then going for the hammer blow, he reminded me of what the young Mandela must have been like in the ring: a wily and dangerous adversary.”

Mandela was at his best in those months after he became president and had to build a government of national unity, reconstruction and development. This is not to say his time in office was entirely smooth sailing, because it was not. He inherited massive expectations that democracy would bring instant results. That, of course, was impossible in a short time, but there were, and are, substantial achievements in areas such as education and housing. He passionately believed that “education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world”.

Of course, he also believed in forgiveness. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission was a landmark achievement of Mandela’s term in office and was in keeping with his historic address to the Dáil in 1990. On that occasion, as the Taoiseach said, he quoted William Butler Yeats, “too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart”. However, Mandela told the Dáil that vengeance – resolving to meet brutality with brutality - was the wrong approach. He said: “We understood that to emulate the barbarity of the tyrant would also transform us into savages. We had to refuse that our long sacrifice should make a stone of our hearts.” This they did.

He might have sought to remain president for life as others had done. Instead, he chose to relinquish office after one term, and in so doing demonstrated that South Africa was truly democratic. He remained in the public eye as an immense moral force both within his own country and on the international stage. As Cyril Ramaphosa put it, Mandela’s job “was to set the course, not to steer the ship.” His memory will remain alive in Africa and all over the world as long as there are people who have a thirst for justice and freedom. At the turn of the millennium, he said in a magazine interview that he dreamed of an Africa at peace with itself. As someone who lived in Africa and holds it dear in my heart, I hope his dream is one day realised.

In Tanzania, the national anthem is “Mungu ibariki Afrika”, Swahili for “God bless Africa”. I was thrilled to hear the same line in Xhosa, “Nkosi sikelel' iAfrika”, also meaning "God bless Africa", in the national anthem of the new South Africa, the rainbow nation. Peace would be Africa’s best blessing, and Nelson Mandela did more than anyone to set the course. I and everyone in the Labour Party extend our deepest sympathies to his family and to the people of South Africa. Ní beidh a leithéid ann arís.

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