Last week’s unveiling of a nine foot bronze statue of Nelson Mandela in Parliament Square was a nice way to round off the British summer (such as it was) – a happy occasion to unite black and white, left and right, in honour of the man who emerged with the utmost humility after 27 years imprisonment, to lead South Africa out of the shocking injustice that was the Apartheid era.
Fulsome tributes were paid by Lord Attenborough, Wendy Woods, and the Mayor of London. “The most inspiring and greatest leader of our generation,” said the Prime Minister, “and one of the most courageous and best-loved men of all time.” And everyone cheered and clapped their hands raw. Well, everyone except for Donal Blaney.
In a tired and predictable throwback to Conservative attitudes of the 1980s, Blaney decided that this was a fitting moment to remind us all of a darker side to Mandela. “One must not forget,” he intoned, “that he raised funds for the ANC’s armed wing, arranged paramilitary training, and led an armed struggle against Apartheid. He was no Gandhi.”
This sudden conversion to pacifism will undoubtedly come as a shock to many who are more familiar with Blaney as the last man in Britain who still thinks that the Iraq invasion was a good idea. In a reference to the practice of “necklacing”, a gruesome method of retribution which tragically spread through the townships during the late ’80s, Blaney proposed that, “instead of laying a garland at the feet of Mr Mandela’s statue or about his neck, maybe someone should be placing a rubber tire there instead.” A bit politically incorrect is young Donal – not to mention cynical, ungracious, and crass.