What price is Madiba’s legacy?

Former president  Nelson  Mandela’s heroic contribution to the liberation of SA and his tireless fight for global justice risk being sacrificed at the altar of commercial interests

What becomes of the legacy of an icon when the iconic figure is no more? At times like these, when the inevitable mortality of our founding father has forced itself on to our collective consideration, it seems appropriate to pose this question.

Admittedly, it may seem out of place. After all, we continue to recall Nelson Mandela with fondness. Mention of his name or flashes of his imagery evoke instant warmth. Mandela represents the best of humanity.

It is unimaginable, therefore, that Mandela’s name could ever be associated with anything other than the magnanimity of the human spirit. We wouldn’t be the first to shrug off any thoughts of the imagery of our iconic figure, long after he haspassed on, being sullied into something unlike what we remember of him.

African-Americans, too, once thought that none could ever do anything of the sort to their fond memory of Martin Luther King Jr. The civil rights leader occupies a similar place in American hearts as Mandela does in ours.

A descendant of African slaves and an unrelenting champion of equality, King was Mandela’s kindred spirit. King derived inspiration from our Struggle, just as much as we did from theirs.

In his acceptance speech of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964, King noted: “I am aware that this prize is much more than an honour to me personally. Every time I take a flight, I am always mindful of the many people who make a successful journey possible – the known pilots and the unknown ground crew.

So you honour the dedicated pilots of our struggle who have sat at the controls as the freedom movement soared into orbit. You honour, once again, Chief Luthuli of South Africa, whose struggles with and for his people, are still met with the most brutal expression of man’s inhumanity to man.”

Twenty-six years after King’s death, as Mandela became the first black president of South Africa, he invoked King’s memory: “Never, never and never again shall it be that this beautiful land will again experience the oppression of one by another… Let freedom reign.”

Commercial exploitation of the imagery of the iconic figure of George Washington, however, hinted at worrying signs that King’s imagery may not be immune from such crass manipulation. It was a depressing sign that in a world where “money is God”, nothing is sacred anymore.

Fearing what seemed inevitable, the Journal of Blacks in Higher Education, in a 2002 article, “Cashing In on the Legacy of Martin Luther King Jr”, posed the question: “Could it be that one day Dr King will be pitching mattress or sleeping pills with the tag line ‘I have a dream’?”

It turned out the question stemmed more out of disbelief than a yearning for an answer. For the article promptly answered its own question: “Recent events suggest that the day may not be far off.” King’s own children had become the merchants that traded on their father’s name.

That they were King’s offspring seemed to have entitled them to discard his iconic representation, and turn him into a profitable industry. So strong has the lure of profit been that they have found it quite easy to trample the very values that their father epitomised.

The collective history of the civil rights movements has become the intellectual property of King’s children.  One such historical bit is King’s “I have a dream” speech, made at a historic gathering of more than 250 000 people at the US seat of government, Washington, in 1963.

After forming themselves into a private firm, King Inc, the children, with the agreement of a court, acquired ownership of the speech and have refused to grant permission for public use without payment. In instances where a newspaper or a broadcaster used the speech without payment, King Inc has successfully sued.

What exactly entitles them to the speech is not readily clear. Because it was inspired by a collective mass struggle for human dignity, the speech must surely be considered a public good. It is beyond reason that anyone can claim a collective history of a people as their own to profit from.

Perhaps because the children consider King’s memory an industry, moral distinction is no longer necessary. Consider that in 2008, for instance, they offered to auction part of King’s collection, including speeches and letters.  But rather than risk the nation losing such historical treasure to some unknown buyer, the City of Atlanta interceded and bought the collection for $32 million for safekeeping at Morehouse College, King’s alma mater.

As if to suggest that profits made from the auction were not enough, King Inc also made a financial gain from King’s monument, unveiled in 2011.

Located in Washington DC, in the same vicinity as Franklin D Roosevelt and Thomas Jefferson’s, King’s monument is an impressive structure towering over others. Considering also that he is now the only American leader who has a national day in his honour, the monument was a telling public tribute to King’s memory.

“One would think any family would be thrilled to have their forefather celebrated and memorialised in DC,” observed King’s award-winning biographer, David Garrow. Not King’s children.

They insisted on getting $800 000 for use of his words and image, prompting Garrow to add that King would have been “absolutely scandalised by the profiteering behaviour of his children”. Black leaders have also “criticised the King family for its crass commercialism”.

Because they care less for the memory of their parents (Coretta King died in 2006), but are driven by greed, King’s children have, as a result, repeatedly turned on one another. They’re trying to con each other out of the profits.

In 2008 they squared up in court over a book deal on their mother. Dexter, chairman of King Inc, sought a court order to force his siblings, Bernice and Martin Luther King III, to provide their mother’s biographer access to her personal material.

As part of the deal, Dexter had secured a $300 000 advance, out of a total $1.4m, for agreeing to collaborate. The siblings objected, arguing that their mother died having changed her mind about Barbara Reynolds doing her biography.

Dexter insisted their mother’s material fell under King Inc, of which he was chairman, which meant he had the authority to decide over them. Bernice and King III then launched a counter-action to have Dexter kicked out as chairman of the private firm, which controlled more than $32m, citing incompetence.

The spectacle did little to improve their standing in the eyes of their father’s biographer. Garrow, once again, remarked: “It’s sad and pathetic to see the three of them behaving in this self-destructive way… Unfortunately, all of the children seem to regard their father’s legacy as first and foremost an income-maximisation opportunity for themselves”.

Mandela’s children are at loggerhead, squabbling over his estate, and pitted against their father’s confidante. Is Mandela’s legacy also destined to be turned into an industry by those who bear his name?

Ndletyana is head of political economy at the Mapungubwe Institute for Strategic Reflection. This article first appeared in the Sunday Independent.