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TIME: Almanac 1995
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1994-05-26
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<text id=94TT0201>
<title>
Feb. 21, 1994: Spoiling For A Victory
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1994
Feb. 21, 1994 The Star-Crossed Olympics
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
SOUTH AFRICA, Page 35
Spoiling For A Victory
</hdr>
<body>
<p>Mandela launches a campaign to mobilize black voters and win
not just big--but really big
</p>
<p>By Bruce W. Nelan--Reported by Peter Hawthorne/Cape Town and Scott MacLeod/Johannesburg
</p>
<p> Happiness and hatred walk side by side on South Africa's road
to democracy. Nelson Mandela wants to focus attention on the
better life to come, "the historic moment when all South Africans,
blacks and whites, will work together to build a new country."
But while joyous crowds of African National Congress supporters
chant and cheer at his every appearance, Afrikaner Resistance
Movement leader Eugene Terreblanche warns of trouble to come
if whites are not given their own state. Last week a visibly
angry Mandela repeatedly interrupted his upbeat campaign speeches
to warn that he would match violence with violence if right-wing
sabotage did not stop. In the past month, more than 40 bomb
blasts have brought down electrical pylons and damaged A.N.C.
offices and homes, as white holdouts like Terreblanche call
for "total war."
</p>
<p> The national election campaign of 1994, the first in which black
South Africans will be allowed to vote, is under way--four
years after Mandela's release from prison. Although his message
of hope has been blurred by threats of violence, the election
does not seem to be in serious jeopardy. As the 75-year-old
leader of the A.N.C. sped from stadium to stadium in his cream-colored
Mercedes, he gave clenched-fist salutes and spoke solemnly to
the faithful. His tones were alternately regal and schoolmasterish,
his jokes slow to develop, and much of his dry but earnest text
came straight out of a yellow-and-white binder labeled BRIEFING
NOTES--CONFIDENTIAL.
</p>
<p> His stiffness does not matter: the crowds shout and ululate
no matter what he utters. He is making an effortless transition
from freedom hero to South Africa's President-almost-elect.
His organization, however, must work much harder to transform
itself from a liberation movement with a history of violence
into a modern, functioning, grass-roots political party. Some
of Mandela's top lieutenants are learning to perfect their new
roles as politicians under the tutelage of Swedish Social Democrats
and such Clinton campaign stalwarts as pollster Stanley Greenberg
and media adviser Frank Greer. The foreign experts are coaching
the A.N.C. on everything from organizational structure and strategy
to the finer points of television appearances and how to handle
reporters.
</p>
<p> That may add polish, but the A.N.C. bandwagon is already a juggernaut.
There is hardly any doubt that the Congress will win a majority
in the country's first free, multiracial parliamentary and provincial
elections on April 26, 27 and 28. But the A.N.C. wants to win
really big and capture at least 67% of the 22.4 million eligible
voters in the nation of 38 million people. That way the A.N.C.
would take 328 seats, or two-thirds of the 490-seat bicameral
Parliament--enough to write and ratify the permanent constitution
all by itself.
</p>
<p> Since almost three-quarters of the potential voters are black
and a majority of them back the A.N.C., this might look easy.
It is not. Last week a boycott of the election by an odd-fellows
alliance of blacks and conservative whites looked certain when
talks with the A.N.C. and the government over ethnic autonomy
sputtered to a near halt as the deadline to get on the ballot
passed. Some die-hard whites have voted against participation.
Additional pressure came from Zulu King Goodwill Zwelithini,
who told President F.W. de Klerk that if the interim constitution
did not give more powers to regional governments, he would not
abide by the results of the coming election and would initiate
the secession of the 8 million-strong Zulu nation. Whether he
is serious or just bargaining on behalf of the Zulu-based Inkatha
Freedom Party, the A.N.C.'s main black rival, such demands could
further fuel the A.N.C.-Inkatha strife that has left thousands
dead in the past decade. With tempers flaring, a less-than-magnificent
win for the A.N.C. leader would make it more difficult to extinguish
the simmering postelection prospect of civil war.
</p>
<p> Amid the competition for black votes, says campaign coordinator
Ketso Gordhan, "for the A.N.C. this election is not about how
sophisticated your message is but about mobilization." Mandela
is the first to warn his voters against complacency. The "greatest
danger," he tells the crowds, comes from "members of the A.N.C.
themselves." Surveying the bewildered faces before him, he continues,
"If we believe we have already won the election, a large number
of people who support us may prefer to remain in their homes."
Deputy campaign chief Patrick Lekota puts the warning in everyday
terms. "People support us," he says, "but if we don't urge them,
they will wake up and think, `Well, I must go look after my
goats.' When they come home, the polls will be closed."
</p>
<p> Part of the A.N.C. challenge is even more basic than getting
people to the ballot box. They must know what to do when they
get there--and many have no idea. Not only are South Africa's
16.2 million eligible black voters casting ballots for the first
time, but more than half are illiterate, and about 7 million
of them live in rural areas far from the reach of campaign rallies
and party workers. The tactics of the A.N.C. over the past 10
years led its followers to scorn the local pseudoelections of
the apartheid era rather than take part in them. "We come from
a tradition of boycott politics," says national campaign chief
Popo Molefe, who was convicted of treason in 1988 as a leader
of the antigovernment United Democratic Front. "The vast majority
of our people are not oriented toward participation. Now we
have to teach them."
</p>
<p> Classes are in session from the northern Transvaal to Cape Province.
Khayelitsha, a sandy, windswept tract along the South Atlantic
coast, is the largest black township in the Cape Town area.
Its small A.N.C. campaign office--one of 94 around the country--is a whitewashed single-story building in a neighborhood
where thieves and vandals have driven out most residents and
shopkeepers. Behind barred windows, regional secretary Richard
Dyantyi, 24, a slim former marketing student, directs the A.N.C.'s
organizational work. Though he has only one telephone, one fax
and two reluctant copying machines, he has lots of helpers.
Their job, he says, is "to make sure the people know how to
register their support when the time comes."
</p>
<p> Each morning he and half a dozen volunteers set out in a minibus
loaded with A.N.C. pamphlets, calendars and stacks of sample
ballots. Learning about the vote comes with vaccinations, dental
care and family counseling in Khayelitsha, as the minibus visits
community centers and clinics around the township. At one clinic,
Dyantyi's aides display a sample ballot, explaining the list
of the 10 political parties up for election with their colors
or symbol and a photograph of their leader. One of the workers,
Boiswa Fusile, shows the folk how to mark the ballot and warns
that doing it wrong could be "a vote for the opposition," that
is, for incumbent President F.W. de Klerk. The new voters hiss.
</p>
<p> Relatively few blacks will be voting for De Klerk's white-dominated
National Party, and few of the 3.6 million eligible whites will
cast their ballots for the A.N.C. But there is a bloc of about
2 million colored, or mixed-race, voters and 650,000 Indians
the A.N.C. wants to win over. That will be where the party does
need to convey a sophisticated message, since the colored and
Indian communities are not convinced that they will fare better
under a black-majority government. "The coloreds have always
been marginalized by the A.N.C.," says Lawrence Solomon, 26.
As an antiapartheid activist in the townships around Cape Town,
he dodged police bullets and tear gas. Now he is an organizer
for the National Party. "We're not the `so-called coloreds,'
you know," says Solomon. "We want to keep our identity, just
like everyone else."
</p>
<p> With only the margin of his victory in doubt, Mandela is cautioning
his voters not to expect too much too soon. The A.N.C.'s election
platform promises to provide jobs, education and housing. But
impoverished black citizens will not become employed homeowners
"driving a Mercedes" the day after the election, Mandela tells
them. What they can expect after April 29, he vows, is a government
that will address their needs, ignored for so long.
</p>
</body>
</article>
</text>