Our happiest days are the personal milestones along the road of life - our weddings, the weddings of our children and the births of our children and our grand-children. This is at it should be.
The happiest non-family day of my life was 10 May 1994 which marked the inauguration of President Mandela and the Government of National Unity and, in effect, the birth of the new South Africa.
We started the day with a breakfast at the presidential residence, Libertas, hosted by Marike de Klerk for Hillary Clinton and Tippa Gore and the wives of officials of the State President's Office. The US Secret Service were unhappy because they had not been allowed to enter the residence. I asked one of them why they had flown in their own armored vehicles for the US VIPs when we had perfectly good armored Mercedes and BMWs that we could have provided them. His answer was simply "because we can."
It was a brilliant highveld autumn day beneath an eggshell blue sky. The ceremony took place in the amphitheatre of the Union Buildings, with its honey-coloured sandstone columns, copulas and terra cotta tiles. For eight decades this had been the inner sanctum of white minority government. In the cabinet room, overlooking the amphitheater, apartheid and separate development had been constructed and finally dismantled. This is where Hendrik Verwoerd's funeral had been held.
The guests included heads of state and top representatives of most of the countries of the world: Vice President Al Gore represented the United States; Prince Phillip was there on behalf of the UK: Fidel Castro attended together with the presidents of numerous African countries. Senior officers of the SADF rubbed shoulders with former MK enemies.
The ceremony started about an hour late. The military orchestra played the new national anthem; the new national flag flew over the centre of power. President Mandela and the two Executive Deputy Presidents, Thabo Mbeki and FW de Klerk took their oaths of office. Prayers were offered by representatives of the Moslem, Hindu and Jewish faiths and by Archbishop Tutu, on behalf of Christians. President Mandela gave his inaugural address - full of optimism and reconciliation, that ended with a resounding promise that "never, never and never again shall it be that this beautiful land will experience the oppression of one by another."
At the climax of the ceremony five Impala jets of the SAAF flew over the Union Buildings trailing the new national colours. They were followed by helicopters carrying the new flag. For many of the members of the ancient regime it was simultaneously a moment of exhilaration - and of the deepest trepidation. For me, it felt as though the burden of our deeply problematic history had, at last, been lifted from my shoulders. But what would the future hold?
Ironically, for one of the dramatis personae, FW de Klerk, the moment of his loss of power also marked the high point of his career. He had achieved most of the goals that he had proclaimed when he launched the transformation process on 2 February 1990. He had repealed all the remaining apartheid laws and had negotiated a new constitutional dispensation that he hoped would protect the fundamental rights of all South Africans and of all South Africa's communities. He believed that he had not transferred power to Nelson Mandela and the ANC - but to new non-racial constitutional system.
After the ceremony the guests dispersed to several marquees where a festive lunch was served. There was a sense of happy and relaxed disorganisation. Some guests had to wait for hours for the buses that took them to their designated destinations. Prince Phillip landed, with good nature, in wrong marquee. My wife, Lanice, and I made our way along a road lined by multiracial high school boys and girls, to the main marquee in the grounds of the old presidential residence. We shared a table with former Australian Prime Ministers Bob Hawke and Malcolm Fraser - both bitter critics of the old South Africa - and the Australian ambassador, Ross Burns. An excellent lunch, with great South African wines was served - about two hours late. The newly inaugurated president, Nelson Mandela, made an excellent off-the-cuff speech full of good will and optimism.
We got on so well with our Australian lunch mates that they insisted we should accompany them back to their embassy for a reception that ambassador Burns was hosting. At the reception, I bumped into Derek Keyes, our brilliant Finance Minister, who told me that his wife wanted him to leave politic as soon as possible. Pity, because he had played an important role in persuading the ANC to change its economic approach.
Thirty years have passed since then. Most of the principal figures at the inauguration have passed on. Few of the brave promises that were made that day have been honoured. We live with the deep disappointments of failed governance; with ingrained corruption and a legacy of state capture. The country can no longer be called a non-racial democracy. Most of our cities and towns are in disarray. Our utilities and infrastructure are in serious decline. For more than a decade the population has been growing faster than the economy and almost 40% of our people are unemployed. A majority of South Africans have benefitted only marginally from the new state that was born 30 years ago.
On the other hand, the constitution is still in place. On 29 May we will be holding our 5th national election. The political tectonic plates are, at last, beginning to shift. The government, to its credit, still obeys judgements of our courts. Our constitutional court is still independent. The middle and elite classes now include more than 27% of the population. White South Africans comprise 60% of the 5% elite class but only 20% of the 22% middle class. They have dismounted the tiger of minority rule with relatively little trauma - a process that most observers in the 70s and 80s would have thought impossible - and have rejoined the mainstream of humanity. These are not insignificant achievements.
So, on 10 May 2024 we should consider this: South Africa today could and should have been a much, much better place than it is now. But it could also have been immeasurably worse. When we cast our ballots on 29 May we should consider how best we can achieve the promises that were made 30 years ago.
