THE ILLOGICALITY OF POWER By Ambassador Ademola Adeoye

The Illogicality of Power by Ambassador Ademola Adeoye

To start with, it is not contentious and debatable to say that Nelson Mandela was a servant leader par excellence. For most of his life, he quietly but firmly opposed the racist policies of apartheid in South Africa. In 1964, the White minority government condemned him to life in prison. As an effect of that judgment, he ended up spending 27 years in prison for the “crime” of speaking out against racism and oppression. Then in 1990, as South Africa came under an increasing pressure and difficulty from the international community, Mandela was released. In 1994, apartheid was formally abolished, South Africa held its first free elections, and Nelson Mandela was elected president!

In four years, he went from being a prisoner of his country to the leader of his country. Many people in his position would have seized the opportunity to turn the table on those who had stolen almost three decades of their lives, but Mandela chose to flex the power of love and moral authority rather than the power of the state. He demonstrated to the world that he was a new kind of leader, following a very old leadership model—the model of the greatest leader who ever lived, Jesus. The 21st century non-compliant leadership model of love.

A little over a year after Mandela came to power, South Africa agreed to host the Rugby World Cup Tournament in Johannesburg, the capital of this overwhelmingly black African nation. But the tournament inflamed a major national debate. Many black South Africans objected to the tournament, calling rugby a white man’s game. They demanded the removal of the South African team emblem, the springbok. The springbok, said the blacks, was a reminder of South Africa’s oppressive apartheid history.

White Afrikaners, however, demanded that the tradition of the springbok remain intact. The springbok had been the emblem of every rugby team South Africa had ever fielded. Tensions escalated. It was that time that Nelson Mandela needed to step in. He paid a visit to the South African rugby team and called a press conference. As the media cameras clicked away, he answered questions—and he was dressed in a springbok rugby jersey and a springbok cap. “Before democratic rule came to South Africa,” he said, “we were a divided country then, and the springboks represented oppression. But that is in the past. We are a united country now. Regardless of the past, the springboks are our team now. They may all be white, but they are our boys. The people of South Africa will get behind them and support them in this tournament.” Mandela understood the purpose of power and he used it to bring South Africans together. What a rare and unique servant-leader he was!

The following day, the white coach of the springboks gathered his players together and said, “There is no practice today. I want everyone to assemble in street clothes—suits and ties.” “Why?” the players asked. “Where are we going?” “You will see,” said the coach.

The coach put the team on a boat and took them out to Robben Island, to the prison where Nelson Mandela had spent so much of his life. The coach led his players into one of the cells and said: “This is the cell where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned. He was kept here for 27 years by the racist policies of our government. We white Afrikaners tolerated Mandela’s imprisonment for all those years—yet he came out yesterday and publicly supported all of us. We cannot let him down.”

The springboks were considered underdogs in the tournament, but they went out and played like champions, stunning the world by winning their match. They continued on through the tournament until they faced New Zealand—the perennial powerhouse in the world of international rugby. It was a rough game, and by the end of regulation time, the score was tied.

In the stands was Nelson Mandela, clad in a springbok’s jersey. Also in the stands was a choir of black South African children. During the time-out before overtime, the children began singing an old miners’ song, much like the Negro spirituals sung by slaves in the old American South. Mandela began singing with them. Soon, thousands of people in the stands joined in, and that song of hope swelled throughout the stadium.

As the song ended, the springboks took the field, and they seemed supernaturally energized and empowered. The New Zealanders could not stop them. At the end of the overtime period, the World Rugby Championship belonged to the springboks of South Africa. The Championship did not belong only to the whites on the team, but to all of South Africa, white and black alike. That night, whites and blacks celebrated and danced together in the streets of a united South African nation.

Nelson Mandela understood the ultimate illogicality of leadership: A leader is not truly a leader unless he is a servant leader, serving all the people as a force for change, a force for unity, a force for prosperity, a force for progress and a force for love.

In our days in Nigeria and on the continent of Africa as a whole, we are in a serious need of servant-leaders—who understand the purpose of power. There are too far many people in the corridors of power, in our promising country and across the continent of Africa, who do not understand a hoot the true purpose of power. They do not know that power is for selfless-service and not for personal aggrandizement. They do not know that power is supposed to be used to enrich the citizenry and not to enrich self. At the moment in Nigeria, power is being used to oppress the poor and voiceless and not to set the poor and voiceless free from the shackles of poverty and diseases. From Ghana to Gabon, from Niger to Nigeria, from Cameroon to Cape Verde, from Egypt to Equatorial Guinea, the problem is the same. The whole continent of Africa is in a dire need of leaders, servant leaders, who are capable of birthing love, unity, prosperity and progress amongst the people.

See you where great leaders are found!