Thank you, Mr Speaker. Deputy President Kgalema Motlanthe, the historian Arthur Schlesinger once remarked that the concept of leadership implies, by its very nature, that individuals make a difference in history. He disapprovingly wrote:
From classical times to the present, eminent thinkers have regarded individuals as no more than pawns of larger forces, whether the gods and goddesses of Mount Olympus or latter-day divinities of Race, Class, Nation, Progress, the Dialectic, the General Will, the Spirit of the Age, History itself.
He goes on to make the important point that:
Determinism may or may not be true, but it unquestionably violates our deepest human instincts. It abolishes the idea of human freedom by discrediting the presumption of choice that underlies every word we speak and every decision we make. It abolishes the idea of human responsibility by depriving the individual of accountability for his (or her) acts.
I share this with you, Mr Speaker and colleagues, because we are here in this very Parliament in the compelling belief that individuals and leaders do make a difference. I share this with you also because it is true that leaders may alter history for better or for worse.
There is no question that the person we honour today, Deputy President Kgalema Motlanthe, has altered history for the better, for reasons to do with his strong inner belief in justice, his devotion to public service rooted in the Episcopalian tradition of the Anglican church - you will know that he was once an altar boy and wanted to be a priest - and a civility in his conduct based on the notion of reciprocal honour and respect that we could all do well to emulate in this world dominated by so much noise, incivility and the crass exercise of power.
The hon Motlanthe was no armchair revolutionary. He put his life under apartheid on the line. He was recruited to uMkhonto weSizwe in the early 1970s, languished for 11 months in the feared John Vorster Square prison in central Johannesburg, was convicted of terrorism and spent 10 years on Robben Island, from 1977 to 1987, became key to the formation of the National Union of Mineworkers and, with Cyril Ramaphosa and Marcel Golding, in doing the impossible by unionising the mines' unstable, oscillating migrant labour force. It was when I was doing some work on the mines and a study of the labour system, together with Marcel Golding, that I first learnt of his remarkable skills.
The Deputy President made a huge difference in Parliament. With regard to HIV/Aids, he appointed the supremely competent Barbara Hogan as Minister of Health. She was vital in turning back the HIV/Aids pandemic so criminally mismanaged by the late Manto Tshabalala-Msimang, who denounced ARV drugs as poison. He was a lonely, sane and sober voice on Zimbabwe, critical of both Robert Mugabe's and Morgan Tsvangirai's roles in the deterioration there and South Africa's role in that process.
He recognised that the first round of black economic empowerment benefited a handful of black millionaires with little advantage for small businessmen and women, and no opportunities for the masses.
He took Parliament very seriously, as you will remember. He attended sessions with great diligence and answered oral questions with great care and a softly stated humour. Some amongst us will miss that in this House.
It is unclear and a bit of a puzzle why he recommended to Parliament that the former head of the NPA, Vusi Pikoli, be fired, when the Ginwala Commission advised otherwise.
I personally regret that I did not have the opportunity to interact with the Deputy President in an organised way in Parliament. He exemplifies the qualities of personality that are rare in the world of politics, such as honour - to be held in public esteem, showing an unusual and merited respect for others, one whose work invites respect - and deference to the highest moral virtues of which human beings are capable.
He has a quality of integrity, which I understand to mean a keen sense of ethical conduct, to keep one's word, honour a promise, a quality of completeness or wholeness, adhering to a code of moral and aesthetic values, a quality of respect, whether for his colleagues or members of the opposition. He was absolutely even-handed in an attitude that showed consideration for others and their ideas and views, regardless of their background or political affiliation.
Perhaps most of all, the hon Motlanthe is one of the few remaining politicians who, in his conduct and personal example, reminds us of the centrality of public purpose in what moves our politics, a defining theme set by the Mandela presidency, which seems almost exotic and quaint in the self-serving and self-justifying crass materialism that we have today.
I wish to say that the populists, the nationalists, the sectarians and the opportunists amongst us in this House hate being reminded of the nobler and more demanding days of Mandela's time, as they hate being reminded that their commitment to the dispossessed and the humiliated have become little more than mere rhetoric. The hon Motlanthe is a walking reminder of the central theme of the Mandela presidency that politics are for the public purpose of serving our fellow citizens in our great land. We thank you, sir, for it. We will miss you. We wish you and your family very well indeed. [Applause.]