Unexpected but entirely fitting: It was during a visit in 1997 to the Philippines—a country known for its people’s sense of fatalism and obsessed with radio dramas and telenovelas, with their larger-than-life version of romance—that the liberator of South Africa showed the world he was once again in love.
Nelson Mandela, the first black president of a united South Africa, had arrived with a new companion: Graça Machel, the widow of Mozambique’s first president. Asked by journalist Ellen Tordesillas whether wedding bells were again in his future, Mandela elegantly parried the question. Editor Juliet Javellana recalls his answer: “Well, my cultural background does not permit me to answer this question with people young enough to be my children or grandchildren.”
But he introduced Machel to President Fidel Ramos and other government officials as his companion, and the two were even photographed holding hands. The public loved it. (Divorced from his second wife in 1996, Mandela married Machel in 1998, over a year after the Manila visit.)
This seems like a trivial note to remember a genuine hero by, whose death on Dec. 5 at the age of 95 the entire world is mourning. But in fact this story vividly illustrates Mandela’s hold on the global imagination. He was a revolutionary leader and a long-time prisoner of conscience; unseen in public for close to three decades, he emerged in 1990, upon his release, a youthful-looking 71-year-old, radiating power and confidence. His years in prison had not broken him; indeed, they had made him stronger, not only in the political but also in the physical sense.
It soon became clear where the source of that strength lay: In his decision, his conscious and deliberate effort, not to bear rancor or resentment against his jailers and the brutal apartheid government they worked for. “As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom,” he famously recalled, “I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison.”
He truly did not bear ill will against his jailers or the white supremacists who used to rule his country. At his presidential inauguration in 1994, for instance, his jail warden was one of the honored guests. With unusual humility, he continued his program of reconciliation during his presidency, in support of a truly inclusive nation.
That is why, when the world first glimpsed Mandela holding hands with a new lady love, it approved. Falling in love again seemed all of a piece with, seemed just the right thing for, an inspirational icon of reconciliation.
Serving the reader
The Inquirer marks its 28th anniversary today. In historical perspective, a span of 28 years is a mere moment, but in the life of newspapers, it is considerable. (In the life of individuals too: Nelson Mandela, who died on Dec. 5 at the age of 95, spent almost as much time, 27 years, in prison.)
The last year has been more eventful than most. In May, the mid-term elections brought a new generation of politicians (albeit mostly from tested political families) to prominence. The devastation wrought by Supertyphoon “Yolanda,” and before that the massive earthquake in
Bohol, focused national and international attention on Central Visayas in unprecedented ways. Both the Nur Misuari-instigated siege of Zamboanga City and China’s continuing provocations in the West Philippine Sea have raised fundamental questions. Not least, the exposure of the so-called pork barrel scam is altering the political landscape; the Supreme Court’s recent unanimous ruling on the unconstitutionality of the Priority Development Assistance Fund is not only historic but also potentially game-changing.
Throughout these and other developments, the Inquirer has kept pace. (Indeed, it is a point of pride for us that we ran the exposé on the pork barrel scam.) But keeping pace with the stories the public needs also means keeping up to date with platforms of delivery: the means by which those stories reach the public. So this year also meant improving the Inquirer.net website, ramping up services on Inquirer’s text alerts, offering bonus content through INQSnap, promoting the digital edition, publishing more books and magazines, making content available on buses and, not least, promoting the flagship print edition heavily.
The response from readers old and new has been gratifying. It inspires us to do even better in the years ahead.