Facebook Fatigue

Now and then we fall under the spell of Facebook Fatigue. Or call it Facebook Fall out, Facebook Fed up, Facebook Fright. Or whatever FF suits you -- except for that word of four letters.

Even during a Facebook Fatigue, I remain logged in. I have too much at stake to totally abandon Facebook. What if someone sends an email? So I stay connected, following every post and reading every comment. But I keep quiet.

Totally unseen. Like a black cat in a pitch dark room. I don't even breath, nor comment, nor like. It is Facebook Fed up.

Facebook Fatigue is the end of Facebook Fetish. It is a natural burp of an immensely bloated infatuation... Excessive, near - 24X7 online engagement is clearly destined to end up in disaster. Even if Facebook were the best lover in the world, the time of reckoning should come for this fateful love affair. Then comes Facebook Fright, and all the fancied virtual love flees. 

Trouble is that Facebook is a free lunch. Believe it or not all free lunches are tasteless. Man does not appreciate what he has not paid for. Facebook friends are collected like stamps -- and they can be willfully discharged ('unfriended' as if there were any friendship) -- with just a click. Likes, comments and posts are exchanged without the slightest of emotional investment. There is no vulnerability in saying something. Posts are not spontaneous and natural. They are polished and artificial. All this lack of personal and emotional investment causes a certain dreariness that makes you run away after some time. Facebook Plague has started. 

And shame could also play a role behind Facebook Fatigue. We know that we are speaking too much. Mostly we know we are just talking to ourselves. But an unnamed craze of bravery exhilarates us and we go on with our monologue. Then we become nervous. Are all the Black Cats listening? Oh Gosh! Let's hope no one paid attention to all of that self-congratulating drudgery of words. What had happened to us?

Facebook Fatigue just exposed the fiction of a device we hoped had filled in the void in us. That gloomy void of loneliness and more. Like all other fancy technologies, we had come up with a solution that neatly plugs the openness of our void with mathematical precision. Without making any mess or splash. In the excitement of posting and commenting, the pain numbed, and we thought we are healed. And then --- Alas! -- Suddenly comes Facebook Fatigue - proving us totally wrong!! There is no denying that this medicine was like all the others before it. It has only the appearance of a medicine -- for otherwise, it does not work.

Facebook Ends with a Fatigue, but the search continues. With the failure of FB, the future belongs to other letters. It could even be XX.

Extracts

--------------- Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha ---------------

See, I'm no learned man, I have no special skill in speaking, I also have no special skill in thinking. All I'm able to do is to listen and to be godly, I have learned nothing else. If I was able to say and teach it, I might be a wise man, but as it is I am only a ferryman, and it is my task to ferry people across the river. 

I have transported many, thousands; and to all of them, my river has been nothing but an obstacle on their travels. They travelled to seek money and business, and for weddings, and on pilgrimages, and the river was obstructing their path, and the ferryman's job was to get them quickly across that obstacle. But for some among thousands, a few, four or five, the river has stopped being an obstacle, they have heard its voice, they have listened to it, and the river has become sacred to them, as it has become sacred to me." 

---------

Once, he said to her:  "You are like me, you are different from most
people.  You are Kamala, nothing else, and inside of you, there is a
peace and refuge, to which you can go at every hour of the day and be at home at yourself, as I can also do.  Few people have this, and yet all could have it." 

 "Not all people are smart," said Kamala. 

 "No," said Siddhartha, "that's not the reason why.  ...  Most people, Kamala, are like a falling leaf, which is blown and is turning around through the air, flutters, and tumbles to the ground.  But a few others are like stars which travel on a fixed path: no wind reaches them, they have within themselves their guide and path."

---------

S: "I am without possessions," said Siddhartha, "if this is what you mean. Surely, I am without possessions. But I am so voluntarily, and therefore I am not destitute."

K: "But what are you planning to live of, being without possessions?"

S: "I haven't thought of this yet, sir. For more than three years, I have been without possessions, and have never thought about of what I should live."

K: "So you've lived of the possessions of others."

S: "Presumable this is how it is. After all, a merchant also lives of

what other people own."

K: "Well said. But he wouldn't take anything from another person for

nothing; he would give his merchandise in return."

S: "So it seems to be indeed. Everyone takes, everyone gives, such is life."

K: "But if you don't mind me asking: being without possessions, what would you like to give?"

S: "Everyone gives what he has. The warrior gives strength, the merchant gives merchandise, the teacher teachings, the farmer rice, the fisher fish."

K: "Yes indeed. And what is it now what you've got to give? What is it that you've learned, what you're able to do?"

S: "I can think. I can wait. I can fast."

*****************************************************************

--------------- Albert Camus, The Plague --------------- 

                                                Tarrou's Story

"My father had an important post, he was prosecuting attorney; but to look at him, you'd never have guessed it; he appeared, and was, a kindly, good-natured man. My mother was a simple, rather shy woman, and I've always loved her greatly; but I'd rather not talk about her. My father was always very kind to me, and I even think he tried to understand me.... My father and I got on together excellently... 

"When I was seventeen my father asked me to come to hear him speak in court. There was a big case on at the assizes, and probably he thought I'd see him to his best advantage. Also I suspect he hoped I'd be duly impressed by the pomp and ceremony of the law and encouraged to take up his profession... What happened in a court had always seemed to me as natural, as much in the order of things, as a military parade on the Fourteenth of July or a school speech day. My notions on the subject were purely abstract, and I'd never given it serious thought.

"The only picture I carried away with me of that day's proceedings was a picture of the criminal. I have little doubt he was guilty, of what crime is no great matter. That little man of about thirty, with sparse, sandy hair, seemed so eager to confess everything, so genuinely horrified at what he'd done and what was going to be done with him, that after a few minutes I had eyes for nothing and nobody else. He looked like a yellow owl scared blind by too much light. His tie was slightly awry, he kept biting his nails, those of one hand only, his right.... I needn't go on, need I? You've understood, he was a living human being. 

"As for me, it came on me suddenly, in a flash of understanding; until then I'd thought of him only under his commonplace official designation, as 'the defendant.' And though I can't say I quite forgot my father, something seemed to grip my vitals at that moment and riveted all my attention on the little man in the dock. I hardly heard what was being said; I only knew that they were set on killing that living man, and an uprush of some elemental instinct, like a wave, had swept me to his side. And I did not really wake up until my father rose to address the court. 

"In his red gown he was another man, no longer genial or good-natured; his mouth spewed out long, turgid phrases like an endless stream of snakes. I realized he was clamoring for the prisoner's death, telling the jury that they owed it to society to find him guilty; he went so far as to demand that the man should have his head cut off. Not exactly in those words, I admit. 'He must pay the supreme penalty,' was the formula. But the difference, really, was slight, and the result the same. He had the head he asked for. Only of course it wasn't he who did the actual job. I, who saw the whole business through to its conclusion, felt a far closer, far more terrifying intimacy with that wretched man than my father can ever have felt."

---------

At this point Tarrou's handwriting began to fall off oddly... "She reminds me of my mother; what I loved most in Mother was her self-effacement, her 'dimness,' as they say, and it's she I've always wanted to get back to. It happened eight years ago; but I can't say she died. She only effaced herself a trifle more than usual, and when I looked round she was no longer there."

---------

Tarrou: "I know the world inside out, as you may see, that each of us has the plague within him; no one, no one on earth is free from it. And I know, too, that we must keep endless watch on ourselves lest in a careless moment we breathe in somebody's face and fasten the infection on him. What's natural is the microbe. All the rest, health, integrity, purity, if you like, is a product of the human will, of a vigilance that must never falter. The good man, the man who infects hardly anyone, is the man who has the fewest lapses of attention. And it needs tremendous will-power, a never ending tension of the mind, to avoid such lapses." 

   The Plague's Final Calamity --  The passing of Tarrou 

The night began with a struggle, and Rieux knew that this grim wrestling with the angel of plague was to last until dawn. In this struggle Tarrou's robust shoulders and chest were not his greatest assets; rather, the blood that had spurted under Rieux's needle and, in this blood, that something more vital than the soul, which no human skill can bring to light. The doctor's task could be only to watch his friend's struggle. As to what he was about to do, the stimulants to inject, the abscesses to stimulate? many months'
repeated failures had taught him to appreciate such expedients at their true value. Indeed, the only way in which he might help was to provide opportunities for the beneficence of chance, which too often stays dormant unless roused to action. Luck was an ally he could
not dispense with. For Rieux was confronted by an aspect of the plague that baffled him. Yet again it was doing all it could to confound the tactics used against it; it launched attacks in unexpected places and retreated from those where it seemed definitely lodged. Once more it was out to darken counsel.
----
At noon the fever reached its climax. A visceral cough racked the sick man's body and he now was spitting blood. The ganglia had ceased swelling, but they were still there, like lumps of iron embedded in the joints. Rieux decided that lancing them was impracticable. Now and then, in the intervals between bouts of fever and coughing fits,
Tarrou still gazed at his friends. But soon his eyes opened less and less often and the glow that shone out from the ravaged face in the brief moments of recognition grew steadily fainter. The storm, lashing his body into convulsive movement, lit it up with ever rarer flashes, and in the heart of the tempest he was slowly drifting, derelict. And now Rieux had before him only a masklike face, inert, from which the smile had gone forever. This human form, his friend's, lacerated by the spear-thrusts of the plague, consumed by
searing, superhuman fires, buffeted by all the raging winds of heaven, was foundering under his eyes in the dark flood of the pestilence, and he could do nothing to avert the wreck. He could only stand, unavailing, on the shore, empty-handed and sick at heart, unarmed and helpless yet again under the onset of calamity. And thus, when the end came, the tears that blinded Rieux's eyes were tears of impotence; and he did not see Tarrou roll over, face to the wall, and die with a short, hollow groan as if somewhere within him an essential chord had snapped. 

Welcome

Welcome 

To the land of serious folks

Where children are born 

Devoid of innocence

Where teenagers do business

And adults wear straight face.

Welcome

To the land of the half-dead

Where only the mad

Are free to cry out loud

Where only the pitied

Can enjoy the pleasure

Of crackling in hearty laughter.

Welcome 

To the land of the oppressed

Where business has replaced 
The aspirations of love

And cunning has taken over 

The hallowed throne of virtue.

Welcome 

To the land of the confused

Where the proverbial cart 

Has out raced the horse

Where men always hurry

To a yet-unknown place.

Welcome

To the land of lost souls

Where only money talks

While everyone else listens

Where friendship has been buried 

Deep in the belly of the heath

Never to be recovered

Until the world passes.

Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged and Objectivism: A Critical Review

It took me a record number of weeks to finish this monumental piece of work, which is a dense tome of 1070 pages. In the middle of the book I faced a 67-pages long diatribe of a speech by the lead character, which challenged my patience and made me pause for several weeks. When I eventually finished it, I was at loss of words how to describe it. Is it one of the best or the worst books I ever read? Is there a way it could be both? I knew that if I totally dismiss it, it would be at my own cost since the book clearly comes from an inspired writer who knows what she is talking about. But if I accept the book, I would not remain myself any longer since some of its core principles are the total opposites of my (or any human’s) values. There is no doubt Atlas Shrugged is a divisive text. In this review I will try to see the source of these contradictions.

Atlas Shrugged is too big to summarize, so I will touch upon its themes rather than reviewing its plot. In this book, Ayn Rand sets out to defend capitalism, which perhaps makes her one of the most vocal guardians of the system. It tells a story of an America that is slowly degenerating, bedeviled by the plague of communism. The government, full of corrupt ‘looters’, draws the blood out of the economy through its intricate web of regulations and nepotism. Exasperated, rational and freedom-loving industrialists under the leadership of John Galt go to exile to form their own free system, thus letting the national economy fall into pieces. By way of a fictitious story, the book delivers strong arguments about the merits of free-markets, the inefficiency of government, the ideals of reasoning individuals, and the rewards of work. It essentially lays out Ayn Rand’s Objectivist thinking, a full-fledged philosophy of how a man and the world should be.

Perhaps one of the best qualities of the author is her fierceness and the precision of her language. Of course her fiery spirit makes her extremely radical and divisive, but it gives her language a power you do not see elsewhere. She attacks Communism and Religion, which she calls ‘the two mystics - the mystics of spirit, and the mystics of muscle’- with a consistent and dramatized tenacity. Ayn Rand’s unmistakably polemical writing style is both her biggest and worst quality[1].

If Atlas Shrugged were a mere work of fiction, I would pass it by having learned many things, but ignoring the rest as harmless fantasy. However, Objectivism is presented as a serious thought system, forcing me to articulate where my views differ. The biggest problem of the book is that it is a caricature of a human story. The protagonists (who are Objectivist heroes) are ridiculously ‘good,’ and the antagonists, especially the communists but also the broad masses, are depicted as sniveling and impotent savages. Objectivism by definition allows no degree of freedom for individual opinions, making it very suffocating and dogmatic[2].

Objectivism and Its Competitors  

Objectivism offers an alternative view of a just system that competes with established views such as Religion (Christianity), Communism, and Utilitarianism. In a layman’s words, the difference between Objectivism and these three can be described as follows.

Objectivism: A just system is based on the truth. For example, it is not just for the government to impose income tax to subsidize the poor since in truth all income belongs to the person who earned it.

Religion: A just system is based on the good. For example, individuals are urged to give alms to the poor because being good is a virtue rewarded by God.

Utilitarianism: A just system is that which maximizes the total utility (happiness) of the relevant group of people. Justice is thus evaluated by its consequences, not by its truthfulness or goodness. For example, it is just to impose income tax and subsidize the poor if doing so increases aggregate welfare (security, happiness).

Communism: A just system is that which gives everyone equal opportunities i.e. “satisfying work, and fair share of the product.”  All resources that determine production (land, labor, capital) should thus be commonly owned.

Objectivism contrasts with Christianity, Utilitarianism and Communism due to its staunch emphasis on individual freedom[3]. Since reality is objectively experienced by the individual, it has no aggregate equivalent at societal level. Thus Objectivism sees no place for a government with authority to enact and enforce a law on behalf of the community. Utilitarianism, in contrast, assumes that individual utilities can be summed up at societal level so that a government working for society also maximizes individual utilities. Communism is similar to utilitarianism except for its emphasis on communal ownership of resources.

Modern Western practice of politics and political economy is based on the Utilitarian theory that seeks to maximize welfare of the population of the country. Politically, utilitarianism is the underpinning of democracy, “a government of the people by the people for the people.” Economically, it calls for consumption maximizing policies at country level (and hence the GDP fetish).

The Good vs. the True

If you look closer, the abovementioned definitions of justice are partly based on what constitutes reality (i.e. is it God-given, or self-experienced? Is it individual or communal?) Equally importantly, however, they are also based on certain underlying assumptions of human behavior.

In broad terms, Christianity is based on the assumption that humans are essentially spiritual beings whose purpose is to be divine like their creator. Since the creator is said to be benevolent, a very important goal of human existence is to develop the virtue of being good. Objectivism, on the other hand, states that man is a being “with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.” Objectivism thus contends that maximizing happiness is a man’s purpose. In this aspect, Objectivism is similar to Communism and Utilitarianism.

What is a noble man? In Christianity he is the good man, the saint. In Objectivism, he is the most productive citizen[4]. In a way, it does not appear that the two are mutually exclusive. Why can it not be that a noble man is both good and productive? It can even be said that these two are indivisible elements of a human being, which are often described as feminine and masculine (or yin and yang) aspects of man. A human being has the motherly nature of being caring and gentle, and the fatherly nature of being purposeful and productive. The motherly side sees man’s potential to achieve before it is actualized, and nurtures him towards it; the fatherly aspect oversees the realization of the potential, rewarding its achievement and penalizing its failure. These two can be seen as two halves of the circle that make a human being.

In valuing only achievement, Ayn Rand takes only half of what makes a human being, and stretches it painfully to make an unseeming full circle. As much as her theory beautifully elucidates one half of human nature, our ability to achieve, it not only ignores our softer side, but also misinterprets, and caricatures it. As a result, the book reads as a work of a genius, but one whose mind is somehow awkwardly skewed.

The Opposite of Communism

It is unmistakable that Ayn Rand envisioned her theory of Objectivism as the antithesis of Communism, from which she suffered firsthand growing up in Russia. The two social theories advocate opposite views of social organization; Communism is based on collectivization whereas Objectivism strongly rejects the notion of a collective will[5].

In calling for collective ownership of production factors, Marx was envisioning to eliminate class division which he considered to be unnatural and alienating. He argued that humans are more collaborators than competitors, so that collective production is both natural and more efficient. Communism was supposed to eliminate classes thus totally undoing the source of class struggle and exploitation. The underlying principle was “to each according to his needs, from each according to his ability.” In contrast, Objectivism saw individual achievements as the final expression of freedom of action and thought. The most just system is one totally based on market-based relationship – i.e. laissez faire capitalism with virtually no government role[6].

In truth, both Communism and Objectivism are based on behavioral assumptions about certain groups of people. Communism seeks to empower the proletariat because it considers the bourgeoisie exploitative.  Behind the elaborate façade that tries to give a different impression, Objectivism basically makes the opposite assumption. Capitalists are pictured as principled and knowledgeable of the value of their life, whereas the masses are parasitic, irresponsible and irrational[7]. Similarly politicians are depicted as opportunistic, so that any organized government would be rotten from top to bottom. The only acceptable form organization is through trade in the market, as exemplified by her idealized state of Atlantis.

Atlas Shrugged lacks the nuanced reasoning you expect from a philosophic text. It also fails to capture the complexity of the human spirit, and the subjectivity of human experience, something you would expect from a work of fiction. As a result, it reads more like a religious document than a work of philosophy or fiction[8].

The Romantic Realist

Ayn Rand describes herself as a romantic realist, and in fact her book has many romantic elements. It is fitting to conclude by citing one of the most beautiful parts of the book, a recital about love by Dagny Taggart, Vice-President of the Taggart Intercontinental Railways.

---

You, whom I have always loved and never found

You, whom I expected to see

At the end of the rails beyond the horizon

You, whose presence I had always felt

In the streets of the city

And whose world I had wanted to build

It is my love for you that had kept me moving

My love and my hope to reach you

And my wish to be worthy of you

On the day when I would stand before you

Face to face

But, what is left of my life will still be yours

And, I will go on in your name

Even though it is a name I'm never to pronounce

I will go on serving you

Even though I am never to win

I will go on, to be worthy of you

On the day when I would have met you,

Even though I won't

I will fight for it, even if I have to fight against you

Even if you damn me as a traitor

Even if I am never to see you again.

~ Atlas Shrugged (style is edited)

---

[1] Note the following polarized remark by the main protagonist, John Galt: "There are two sides to every issue: one side is right and the other is wrong, but the middle is always evil. The man who is wrong still retains some respect for truth, if only by accepting the responsibility of choice. But the man in the middle is the knave who blanks out the truth in order to pretend that no choice or values exist... In any compromise between food and poison, it is only death that can win. In any compromise between good and evil, it is only evil that can profit.”

[2] This makes Objectivism a very static philosophy. Philosopher Leonard Peikoff, himself a pioneer of Objectivism, has described objectivism as a "closed system" that is not subject to change (see Peikoff, Leonard. "Fact and Value").

[3] In addition, Objectivism contrasts with Christianity due to its assertion that reality is objectively experienced, and is not God-given (an underlying basis of the US constitution).

[4] Francisco d’Anconia, one of the Objectivist heroes in Atlas Shrugged, speaks thus: “There's nothing of any importance in life - except how well you do your work. Nothing. Only that. Whatever else you are, will come from that. It's the only measure of human value. All the codes of ethics they'll try to ram down your throat are just so much paper money put out by swindlers to fleece people of their virtues. The code of competence is the only system of morality that's on a gold standard.”

[5] The most sacred oath of Objectivists in Atlas Shrugged is “I swear, by my life and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine.”

[6] The outcome would be an extremely class-based society which Marx set out to eliminate. Even in the book’s fictional world, super-genius oligarchies dominate all aspects of life. This rightfully gives the impression that Rand is an elitist. Perhaps to compensate for this, the book starts with the story of Eddie Willers who is more of a normal person although he is soon overshadowed by the super-heroine Dagny Tagaart.

[7] In a sense, it is based on the real failed experience of Communism in Eastern Europe. The negative portrayal of the masses, for example, is to underscore why revolution-based Marxism would be irrational. But as a consequence, Ayn Rand also appears to view democracy, a government by the people, unacceptable because ‘the people’ in her view can be ignorant. At some point in her text, for example, she describes the masses as half-savage: "We [i.e. Galt and other heroes of the book] are the men who reach that day [i.e. that level of understanding]; you [the audience, or the masses] are the men who choose to reach it partly; a savage is a man who never does.” In his speech Galt also ridicules the masses for assuming the role of a king maker: "you [the masses] are incompetent to run your own life, … but able to judge politicians and to vote them into jobs of total power over arts you have never seen, over sciences you have never studied, over achievements of which you have no knowledge….”  

[8] The storyline of Atlas Shrugged has a parallel with a religion, complete with its God (capitalism), Devil (Communism), caring angels (Dagne), Fighting Angels (Ragnar Danneskjöld), Heaven (Atlantis), Hell (Earth). Dagne’s crash landing in Atlantis is very similar with the life after death religions preach. She of course confronts death and prevails over it, reminding us of Jesus.  

The Legacy of Nelson Mandela

On the 15^th of December, 2013, Nelson Mandela’s body was laid to rest in his home village of Qunu. The massive, spontaneous outpouring of condolences and sympathy that his death triggered was a clear manifestation of the respect Nelson Mandela commanded around the world. The passing of a “giant,” as one magazine called it, such as Mandela’s leaves behind in its wake the daunting task of evaluating his legacies. In this article, I briefly reflect upon Mandela’s legacy. For all the respect he commands, Mandela also has his detractors who question the soundness of his legacy on two grounds. First, they question if Mandela greatness has not been expounded beyond proportions by the lopsided reportage of the media. Second, they ask if Mandela had done enough to protect the interests of blacks in view of the huge economic inequalities seen in today’s South Africa. Before facing these questions headlong, let’s step back, and begin by looking into the character of the man in question – Nelson Mandela.

Born Free

The most important feature of Mandela’s character was perhaps his being a free spirit. In his autobiography, The Long Journey to Freedom[1], he writes:

“I was not born with a hunger to be free. I was born free – free in every way that I could know. Free to run in the fields near my mother's hut, free to swim in the clear stream that ran through my village, free to roast mealies under the stars and ride the broad backs of slow-moving bulls. As long as I obeyed my father and abided by the customs of my tribe, I was not troubled by the laws of man or God.”

When it downed on him that his freedom was curtailed by the apartheid regime, he stood fearlessly to fight it. He neglected his career and his family, endangered his life, and spent much of his youth and adulthood fighting the seemingly insurmountable force of apartheid.

As much as he was free and fearless, Mandela’s also possessed considerable level-headedness. This character can be seen in his pragmatic approach to politics, in his humane response to the grievances of apartheid, and the level of self-assuredness he exhibited in all of those arduous years. No doubt his personality evolved over time, and perhaps he owes his sagacity much to the 27-year long incarceration he went through. In his autobiography, he describes how he decided to maintain an unblemished spirit in the face of venomous adversity:

“I realized that they could take everything from me except my mind and my heart. They could not take those things. Those things I still had control over. And I decided not to give them away.”

Thus Mandela managed to avoid becoming the monster he was fighting against, a trap all too many freedom fighters fall into[2].

When he spoke against apartheid, for example in the courtroom of his trial, he spoke in a firm but measured tone. His arguments were never polarized – never to the extent that would be expected from a person so unjustly accused, and was faced with a potential death penalty. He was charismatic, but never descended to the folly of impressionistic or populist arguments. His logic was consistent, and, perhaps by design, easily accessible to his opponents. As a politician this made him a trustworthy negotiator who could do business with integrity. His ability to exude trust and integrity was indispensable in assuaging the fears of the governing National Party which enabled it to arrive at a negotiated solution with the African National Congress (ANC).

All said, Mandela was a truly great persona that understood and fully believed in his greatness, and was not afraid to show it to the world. He was the right man at the right time. He was the grand spirit that applied itself to a great purpose, with grit and consistency, until it was eventually met. Thus he saw through the liberation of his people from an atrocious minority regime, and became the first black president of his country. By no means does this mean that he was perfect, and to that we will come in a short while.

The Unsung Heroes

A poster from the "Free Mandela" Movement showing the ANC helping Mandela's release.

Although Mandela is (perhaps rightly) presented as the face of the freedom struggle that brought down apartheid, there are two other factors that played at least equally important roles. The first is the leadership of the African Congress Party, which was able to mobilize the masses and keep the spirit of the struggle undimmed in a remarkably harsh environment. The second factor, contradictory as it may seem, is the openness of the system of governance of the apartheid regime. The predictable and law-based nature of the South Africa’s administration was a crucial factor that contributed to a successful negotiated solution towards democracy. In the years leading up to the 1994 election, there were several violent incidents involving the semi-autonomous tribal states and extremist Afrikaner nationalist forces, both of which wanted to either maintain the status quo or secede from the union and establish a separate country. The active and constructive involvement of the Afrikaner National Party avoided the risk of a violent civil war that could have dealt a catastrophic blow to the process of change. It is in recognition of this contribution that the Nobel Peace Prize of 1993 was given not only to Mandela but also to de Klerk who, although no other than an apartheid president, had the cunning to see the “hand-writing on the wall” and acted in favor of change before it was too late.

Mandela the Saint?

Mandela, however, is no Gandhi or Martin Luther King since he spearheaded sabotage and military action against apartheid. Although the ANC initially adopted non-violent struggle, it was forced to change its methods following the brutal retaliation of the government that culminated in the Sharpeville massacre of 1960. A year later, Mandela co-founded and became the head of the underground military wing of the ANC.

In a recorded speech, Mandela made the case for military action against the apartheid regime:

 “There are thousands of people who feel that it is useless and futile for us to continue talking peace and non-violence — against a government whose only reply is savage attacks on an unarmed and defenseless people. And I think the time has come for us to consider, in the light of our experiences at this day at home, whether the methods which we have applied so far are adequate.”

Mandela argued that “The oppressor defines the nature of the struggle.” It is largely for his involvement in bombings by this armed wing of the ANC, which led to several deaths, that he was arrested in 1962 and sentenced to life in prison.

When, in 1985, the then president P.W. Botha offered to release him if he rejected violence, Mandela spurned the offer, stating that "Only free men can negotiate. A prisoner cannot enter into contracts." Still, Mandela remained a champion of a negotiated solution during the long decades of his incarceration. The final agreement that led up to a general election was essentially engineered by Mandela in spite of initial opposition from his own party.

A picture of Mandela visiting his prison cell in Robben Island where he spent 18 years, taken in 1994.

Plastic Halo?

This brings us to question of the extent to which Mandela’s crown of ‘halo’ is a fabricated matter. If Mandela was not the only actor in the fight against apartheid, and if he were not really the forgiving saint that some portray him to be, then where does his current saintly picture come from? Although the issue is unavoidably subjective, I would like to point out a couple of biases and inconsistencies related to media coverage that contributed to this misrepresentation.

First of all, the media tends to settle for presenting a rather stripped down, even superficial version of reality that is targeted for the average audience. It is due to this common denominator effect that much of the news coverage regarding Mandela fails to fully present the complexity of the freedom struggle in South Africa. The case for such shallow reporting is especially stronger when the setting is a faraway country such as South Africa, so that nobody cares about the smaller details.

Secondly, there is the media’s tendency to repeat and magnify the sensual aspect of a story. Heaping praise and glory on famous individuals is both cheaper and more sensual than discovering new heroes, or going to the bottom of the story with all of its complexities. The extraordinary life of Mandela makes him a natural target for a cult personality. He is often presented as a statesman, a forgiving figurehead and a unifying force of South Africa, while in fact in his earlier years he was a rather militant freedom fighter. This narrative is also likely to gain currency since it makes Mandela palatable to the tastes of the international audience who would otherwise find it hard to identify with a freedom fighter of a faraway country. What transpired from his funeral, however, is that Mandela is loved and respected among his own people largely for defying the brutal, minority regime of apartheid, and for sacrificing his life for fighting against it.

Mandela is more fittingly described as a practical and humane politician with an indomitable spirit to win rather than as a saintly figure. Regardless of what the media says, Mandela remains a great hero of his country and the world at large. Perhaps the most important proof for this is the extent to which he was dearly missed upon his death by his own people who knew him closely for decades[3].

Mandela was sworn in as the first democratically elected president of South Africa in 1994. 

Liberty without Prosperity

Political and economic freedom go hand in hand. It is fair to expect that South Africans fought against apartheid not merely to be able to elect their own leaders, but also to have full access to economic opportunities. Under Mandela’s presidency, the government significantly expanded its welfare scheme by launching several safety net programs that protected the economically underprivileged, and introduced affirmative action to encourage the participation of blacks in the labor market. It also introduced a land reform to rebalance the extremely skewed distribution of land[4]. Although the economy benefited from these policies and rebounded rapidly, the majority of blacks in South Africa still remain impoverished.

Critics point out that the government could have taken more radical measures such as nationalizing the mines and other sectors of the economy. Given the fall of the Berlin Wall and the strong negotiation position of the National Party, these radical moves were ruled out from the beginning. In any case, it is difficult to argue that a mere redistribution of wealth could have redressed the intractable economic challenges of South Africa. In fact, the ANC should be praised for refraining from economic populism since poverty could be reduced only by means of long term growth.

The greatest strength of South Africa is not its wealth of gold and diamonds, nor its relatively high level of income. What sets apart South Africa from other African countries is that it was fortunate enough to inherit a set of political and economic institutions that were designed to work for the settlers[5]. The achievements of these institutions are already there to see in the country’s relatively high quality of life, and in the successful power transfer from the minority regime to an elected government in 1994. This makes South Africa part of a select group of young countries such as USA, Canada, Australia, Singapore and New Zealand that are unique for successfully transplanting the market friendly and democratic institutions of Old Europe (Or to be more specific, those of Britain). Because their inclusive nature, these institutions have the potential to unleash economic prosperity by encouraging wealth creation via education and entrepreneurship. The future of South Africa depends to a great extent on its ability to maintain and upgrade these institutions so that they serve all citizens. 

Of course it will take many years before the broader public of South Africa could be lifted up from poverty. The economic integration of the once-excluded blacks in the US, for example, is far from complete five decades after the end of segregation, highlighting the sluggishness of similar undertakings. It is perhaps fitting to conclude by citing yet another remarkable statement of Mandela about the need for patience:

“The truth is that we are not yet free; we have merely achieved the freedom to be free, the right not to be oppressed. We have not taken the final step of our journey, but the first step on a longer and even more difficult road. For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others. The true test of our devotion to freedom is just beginning.”

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[1] Here and elsewhere I am referring to his official autobiography “A Long Walk to Freedom” that was published in 1995 by Little Brown & Co.

[2] The Irish poet W. B. Yeats wrote that “Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart,” which nonetheless is an assertion that does not apply for Mandela. In an inspired article that intimates his relationship with Mandela, Bob Geldof elucidates this point poetically: “The true miracle of Nelson Mandela is that it did not [make his heart a stone]: 27 years of incarceration, he did not break, and, most remarkably of all, his soul did not harden.”

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/nelson-mandela/10499624/Nelson-Mandela-Bob-Geldof-pays-tribute.html

[3] There is an important side note here. The Western media has a significant clout that enables it to decide what event is newsworthy, to frame it in its own terms, and even report it in a lopsided manner. It is, for example, very likely that an event in South Africa gets more media coverage than a comparable event in another country due to South Africa’s tight relationship with England. Here is an informative example of how the western media adjudges what is newsworthy. Everyone knows Colonel Idi Amin Dada, the brutal dictator of Uganda in the years 1971 - 1979. In those years, the western media was awash with news reports from that impoverished country, although, the content of the coverage grew dimmer through time and eventually turned against the dictator. The interest in this dictator was so significant that the famous film about him that was released after his death, “Last King of Scotland,” was a box office success. In these same years, close by Ethiopia was ruled by another dictator, Colonel Mengistu Hailemariam, who oversaw a disastrous reign of terror and civil war in the country. Under both dictators, it is estimated that hundreds of thousands people perished. Nonetheless, there was a much less news coverage from Ethiopia than Uganda. Even today, googling the names of the two dictators reveals that Idi Amin Dada gets almost 100,000 more search hits than Mengistu Haile Mariam, although the later was a dictator for twice as many years and over a much larger country. How do we explain this significant difference of interest between the two dictators? The answer lies in the strong relationship of Uganda with Britain, which was its past colonial master, as a result of which Uganda is a member of the Commonwealth of Nations. The British also had a vested interest in maintaining peace in Uganda because of the presence of a large Indian settler community which was one of the legacies of their colonial rule of the country. When their relationship with Idi Amin Dada finally collapsed, he displaced thousands of Indians who eventually came to England and had to be provided for. The point here is that, not surprisingly, the Western media sees things through a western angle, leading to a differential treatment of affairs that are otherwise similar.

[4] The 1913 land reform had shrunken the proportion of land owned by black South Africans to a mere 7%, although whites constitute only 9% of the population in present day South Africa.

[5] In most other African countries, colonizers built exploitative institutions that facilitated the extraction of natural resources rather than boosting economic growth. These institutions were then passed onto the newly independent African nations at the end of colonialization. For institutional difference between settler and non-settler coloines, see: Daron Acemoglu, Simon Johnson and James A. Robinson, 2001. "The Colonial Origins of Comparative Development: An Empirical Investigation," American Economic Review, vol. 91(5), pages 1369-1401.

Titbits

You have both the paint and the brush
To paint my life in any color you wish.

**********

You ask

Why I am always insecure 

It is because
I know I am always naked 

Inside my clothes.

**********

Father, take this life of fresh clay
And mold it into a beautiful art of joy.

**********

The roads to heaven are as many as the travellers.

**********

Not far can a dog run
When it chases its own tail.

Not much can a lion grow

When it gnaws its own paw.

**********

In three small moments
I can dismantle my future
And repackage it again
Altering the course of my fate
As my will would dictate.

**********

Just as the utterance of love

Is different across languages

So is the joy of life 

Expressed in a million ways.

**********

My love for each one of you

Is like a fresh red petal

And my Love for the Universe

The entre rose blossom.

**********

AAL