Reverend Jan Scholtz

Nelson Mandela’s visit to the South African team before the opening game of the 1995 Rugby World Cup can be viewed as politics of grace in motion. 

 His further appearance at the finals, participating in the pre-game rituals, adorned in the No.6 rugby jersey of the Springbok captain, was a stroke of genius.

Cynics observed these acts as manipulation of symbols, a crass mobilising of mass emotions for the sake of political points – and of course, there may be some of that in this move.

Three things, however, undermine the cynic’s suspicion. The first is the project to which these actions are directed – the reconstruction and reconciliation of one of the most divided, alienated and violent societies in which ethnic and cultural differences continue to threaten the fragile sense of nationhood, which is emerging.

The second is that the man himself, Mandela, has shown such a consistent integrity that few, if any, accuse him of hypocrisy.

Third is the consistency of this “politics of reconciliation” when it is politically unpopular.  The rugby incident is just one of many instances of a pattern of reconciling grace that has been salvific for the country.  

They include the invitation to the wives of the former state presidents to have tea with senior women of the ANC, and the quite remarkable visit Mandela paid to Betsy Verwoerd in the White enclave of Oranje.

Such a practice, in its very recklessness and profligate abundance, is not always received in the manner intended. Indeed, two very real dangers have emerged for the politics of reconciliation. 

The first is the problem of resentment among those who feel that such grace is underserved, unnecessarily extravagant and that it is given without the necessary “quid pro quo” being assured upfront.

Politically, those who have been victims of the systems of apartheid look with some understandable suspicion, verging on disdain at the attempts made by the president to reconcile the former oppressor.

They seem to verge on an appeasement that undermines the legitimate anger and demands for retribution felt by many victims of apartheid.  An analogy with the justified anger of the faithful brother of the Prodigal son towards his father’s excessive grace towards his profligate brother is apt.

This danger is a valid one, and it is fuelled by the second danger, which has to do with the reception of this grace; the miraculous grace that has been offered to white South Africans is too often misused in such a way that the suspicions of the elder brother in the biblical story of the Prodigal son are confirmed.

Instead of accepting the miracle of grace with humility, repentance and a desire for conversion, too often this grace is treated as a right – as a natural product of a democracy.  

One wonders whether this grace was given too easily, whether it has become “cheap grace”, demanding neither repentance nor the conversion of attitude and life it seeks perhaps.

While retribution would have been satisfying for many and would have been more just, its consequences would have been horrific – not only for whites (who would have deserved all they got) but for the prospects of salvation for the whole nation.

It is grace (reconciliation) that offers a way out of the implacable inevitability of justice, understood as an exacting of vengeance in retribution but does so by recasting justice in the form of a restitution that arises out of a response to forgiveness. 

Biblically, the paradigmatic example of this process is that of Zacchaeus; his response to Jesus is a demonstration of the true meaning of the justice of grace.  

It is apparent from the narrative that the story has two foci:  the offer of grace (forgiveness) to an oppressive member of a despised class by Jesus and Zacchaeus’s response.  

Jesus approached Zacchaeus and created much dissent among his followers, who were surely victims of Zacchaeus’s avarice and collaboration.

  But Jesus does not capitulate to the pressure of such dissent.

The story is only completed with an account of Zacchaues’s repentance and restitution.  

It is at this point that salvation comes, and Zacchaeus is reintegrated into the community: “This man too is a son of Abraham” (LK. 19:9)

This grace (forgiveness) creates the space for the conversion of the oppressor, restitution to the victims and reconciliation between the two.  

Quite clearly, the latter two are dependent on the former, but the former is only effective because of the latter.

Reconciliation is thus an essential element in the politics of grace (forgiveness).

It is the time of judgment in which “Each one may receive what is due to him or her for the things done while in the body” (2 Cor 5:10).  

It is a judgement or an accounting that will enable that which has been done in the dark to be exposed so that the truth will be revealed; such an accounting is necessary for the healing of the body politic to begin.

But this must be set within politics of grace, (forgiveness) as underserved and unwarranted as any divine offer of grace (forgiveness) might be.  

It is not truth for its own sake that is being sought.  Rather, it is the truth that is being sought within the parameters of reconciliation and forgiveness.

The attitude of leaders makes this point ethically and religiously.  

That requires a response that is accountable, repented, fortnight and, in turn, forgiving.  It requires, above all, humility that recognises it for what it is – not some hard-won political concession but a magnanimous, profligate and underserved bounty of forgiveness that can and must be grasped in gratitude.

If it succeeds, it will save not only the country, but it will offer a model of political praxis that will be paradigmatic for many other countries emerging from bitter strife and division. 

Reconciliation is perhaps a key component in making this politics ethically and politically effective while taking our nation to that level where the perfecting of the future is more important than dwelling on the past.

*Reverend Jan. A. Scholtz is the Former //Kharas Regional Chairperson and !Nami#nus Constituency Regional Councillor. He is a holder of a Diploma in Theology (B-Theo – SA), a Diploma in Youth Work and Development from the University of Zambia (UNZA) and a Diploma in Education III (KOK) BA (HED) from UNISA.