Embracing the radical? Learning (or not) from Nelson Mandela

I confess that I have spent the past couple of weeks dithering, in the knowledge that really it would be a little strange if a blog aimed at promoting public leadership development ignored the death of the pre-eminent public leader of our times.

What can we learn from the life and struggles of Mandela? How can Mandela, even after death, inform our leadership practices?

The answer is that, honestly, I am uncertain. I feel conflicted about the global response to Mandela's passing. I feel that his life and death - and the public response to both - do offer us some important lessons in leadership. But they are uncomfortable lessons.

On the one hand of course Mandela was the most impressive leader of his times. Not simply in terms of his personal attributes, although of course he was charismatic, funny, gritty, determined. He was also a master at assembling coalitions, working behind the scenes to keep group process alive in the most trying of circumstances. The emerging media consensus on his life seems to be that keeping people together, absorbing contrary positions while not compromising on the core principles of his cause, was the defining feature of his leadership. Of course to a large extent that is a fair assessment. Nevertheless, I wonder if it is also an overly technical postscript.

Of course at momentous times like these the media largely sees its role as a unifying one, finding a common basis upon which viewers and readers can relate and cohere. So sure, Mandela (along with others) was wonderful at bringing and keeping people together. His conscience and capacity for forgiveness has also rightly been described as the glue which enabled his coalitions to remain durable.

And so there we have it. It is tempting to write up the rest of the post on how important coalitions of leadership are and that leadership development theory and practice under-represent the centrality of coalition building in general. This is largely due to our preference for single-leader explanations of success, of course. But that is for another day, I think.

Because something has been gnawing away at me about the fall-out from the death of Mandela. Namely, that the man’s radical edge has been lost somewhere along the way. I am bothered by the parade of cautious, conservative politicians and public figures in turn proclaiming Mandela as a great. In truth, I have long been concerned at the number of candidates for political office who reference Mandela as their political inspiration. Not to mention the business executives. I have almost certainly been guilty of co-opting Mandela at points in my life and career – and vow forthwith to stop. This post is as much a reflexive self-indictment as anything else.

I am bothered because so many of these leaders, in truth, are united in their mediocrity and lack of radicalism. By mediocrity I am not suggesting that these are poor leaders. It’s just that when historians reflect back in a few generations, they are not leaders who will leave much of a legacy. Fair enough?

In some ways, I suppose, the co-opting of Mandela as an inspiration for all manner of the bland is perhaps partly down to Mandela himself. He became a figure who used his authority to challenge the mainstream from within. Out of necessity – pushing the image of South Africa as a successful, modern capitalist state. But even in power he remained a radical figure – challenging dominant power blocs over HIV medication, poverty and war. And he did so with enormous dignity. I believe in the concept of ‘dirty hands’ – that you don’t get anything done by staying somehow always above the fray. Such a realm is best left to the quixotic figures of this world (and alternate dimensions of time and space). They rarely attain positions of power and when they do never seem to be able to hold people together for long enough to achieve much of note. Mandela’s genius was that he retained his radical spirit in power.

Let’s remember that Mandela became a hero because of his radicalism. His willingness to risk his life and sacrifice the majority of his lifetime for a cause he believed in. And that cause was turning over entrenched power. Let’s here recall the final words of his speech, delivered from the dock at his 1964 trial:

During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to this struggle of the African people. I have fought against white domination, and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities.

It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.

These were not words spoken in the abstract. His comrades were routinely executed for their actions. He delivered his speech in the full knowledge that a similar fate could await him.

Here we have flashes of the spirit of Antigone, the exposure of great injustice and violence through a noble, ethical act. And this was not a one-off act but a sustained one of sacrifice in the fight against brutishness.

The radical-ethical spirit of Antigone

Now let’s reconsider whether it is appropriate for Mandela to be referenced so often as a figure of inspiration, or a role model, in the development of leadership. How much of my life is really conducted in the spirit of Mandela? Very little, in truth. On one level the co-option of the radical Mandela should irritate, even anger us. When there are so many enormous issues facing the world, why is the dominant response of major leaders often so timid? Why is our response often so timid, conservative or reactionary?

On the other hand, perhaps our organisations don’t need to be filled with Mandelas. Perhaps plodding, mediocre leaders have their place. Without them, after all, much of our infrastructure and daily life would come to a thudding halt. What’s wrong with keeping things ticking over?

Being a great radical is not for everyone. It would be refreshing if the majority of us publicly came clean and embraced modest incrementalists when discussing our leadership role models. “Well thanks for asking. My leadership role model is John Major.”

In fact the next time I read or hear someone claim Mandela as their inspiration I am going to ask that person to justify the statement. I am going to ask what it is about their leadership that offers a radical edge. I would urge you all to do the same – at work, socially, politically. Doing so would open up a valuable conversation.

Do we want a radical, challenging discourse of leadership or something more modest? Surely this is a question that should drive any leadership development initiative. My personal answer is that I believe in the former but in truth wish I did much more in its name.

If this is the kind of conversation you believe in and want at the heart of your leadership development, why not bring in the figure of Nelson Mandela? I doubt anyone could think of someone more impressive. If not, best to leave Mandela out of it.

- Owain