Nelson Mandela does the ‘Madiba Shuffle’ at a party to celebrate the ANC victory after the 1994 elections, march 27, 1994

1 of 15, Archival Ink Pigments on Cotton Rag 16.5 x 23 inches 

The Madiba Moment by Paul Weinberg:

Like millions throughout South Africa and the world when the President FW de Klerk announced the release of Nelson Mandela, the unbanning of political organisations, it took me completely by surprise. At the time I was part of Afrapix, a photographic collective (which I was a co-founder member of.) Together with my colleagues, we had been covering the events high and low key which we had been feeding to the alternative and main stream media for a decade. In true collective style, a meeting was held and a decision (by consensus) was made that I should fly from Cape Town to Johannesburg to cover this historic moment.

I was picked up at the airport by friend and colleague Paul Grendon in his beat up old volksie. We made it slowly but surely to the gates of Victor Verster prison.  There were tiers of photographers and cameramen in position and waiting. Not surprisingly and our reception was met with somewhat hostility by the world media who had descended on this location for one of the major stories of the 20^th century. Grendon I suppose didn’t help our cause. A serious documentary photographer, he came equipped with a Leica, no long lenses, flap jacket or the paraphernalia that at least on the surface could have given the appearance of a photojournalist. I sheepishly tried to find a spot and a relatively good vista.  My initial position was behind a Time magazine correspondent  and his partner. As the wind blew her long flowing hair kept obscuring my vision. “Do you mind moving slightly to the left” I asked her at one point. “No!” she said, “I’ve been waiting here for eight hours.” My response was immediate and I am not entirely sure where it came from but it sounded well rehearsed. “Well I and millions of others have been waiting all my lives.” I then settled on a place which was more like a worm’s eye view. At least I had a clear path of the gates.

And much anticipation and more waiting, he and Winnie walked through the gates towards the media. I focused and pressed the shutter. As I did, a group of comrades who were to my right, surged. My cameras, camera bag and I went flying. My Madiba moment consists of blue sky and telephone lines! To add further ignomony, I lost a lens in the fracas. Grendon and I then headed to the Grand Parade where I hoped to redeem myself. It was packed jammed tight and I began a long and difficult push towards the balcony of the City Hall where Madiba would later speak from.

It was as we know from all the accounts, another long wait. The driver got famously lost and the light began to fade. By the time Madiba appeared the sun was beginning to set and all I could do was point my long lens in the direction of the balcony knowing it would be a failure, blurred and another missed historic moment. To rub more salt into the wounds that day, I was pickpocketed R300 and my lightmeter was slicked out of my bag. In short my attempts to interact with history were a dismal and spectacular failure.

The next day at Archbishop Tutu’s residence, Nelson Mandela appeared for his first press conference and portrait session. This time I was way ahead of time and to my surprise there was a very manageable small group of photographers. I took what became his very first portrait post his imprisonment. Thankfully these images worked well and were used extensively by the media.

Caught up in the events that followed I joined the Mandela train to some extent as he connected to the South African public. On one occasion I was commissioned to do ‘a day in the life’ of Nelson Mandela. I shared the moment with a film crew who were exceptionally restricting and prevented me from using flash in low light situations.  At one point as we walked along the corridor, Madiba remembering my name, he turned to me and asked, “Are you related to my good friend Eli Weinberg?” A question I have been asked a thousand times in my life. I replied with the same answer, ”Not directly but our forebears came from the same city, Riga in Latvia.” “I see “ he said generously. But I knew my answer was not going to get me much closer to the great man. On another occasion when working for Der Speigel, Paul Schumaker, the correspondent and I had an opportunity to spend two hours interviewing him over lunch. He was waiting for a lift that somehow was delayed and we had a privileged session talking in depth about issues of the day and beyond. It was more like a conversation than and interview. He was relaxed and in top form. One got then a very clear impression that Madiba knew when he was talking to you or allowing his photograph to be taken, he was connecting with the world. You were as important to him as he was to us. The media were his direct artery to the world which he so brilliantly has managed throughout his life.

My next significant media moment was during the 1994 elections. I was the official photographer for the IEC and had special access to voting stations. Like his release, this ‘moment’ was what the world had been waiting for, Mandela voting for freedom. He had chosen Ohlange School, Inanda Durban, the site of John Dube ‘s grave. This time I was in position, way ahead of time. I was nervous and took constant lightmetre readings to check that everything was in place. But as with every moment there is often an unexpected drama. As he walked into the booth, an IEC commissioner from the US was walking next to him and had latched onto his elbow. Her eyes lighted up as she saw me. “I want a photograph of Mandela and I” she kept badgering me. I had a just a second or two to capture this moment. On either side of Mandela was Bantu Holomisa and Jacob Zuma. He dropped his voting paper in the box.  This time there were no raucous comrades that pushed me over, I got the moment. Nelson Mandela voting for the very first time in his life! I didn’t get the commissioner next to him. The only part of her body is her hand on the right hand corner. For months afterwards people would stop me in the street and say. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Yes this was my five minutes of fame with an icon of the world that was broadcast to hundreds of millions of viewers. To be more accurate actually, it was mainly my butt as I crouched down lower to frame the image and Madiba’s moment in history – a very uneven contest!