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Throngs Vie for Last Look at Mandela as He Lies in State in Pretoria Throngs Vie for a Last Look at Mandela
(35 minutes later)
PRETORIA, South Africa — With hundreds of dignitaries and thousands of ordinary South Africans filing past, the body of Nelson Mandela was lying in state in its coffin on Wednesday below the sweeping facade of the Union Buildings in Pretoria, the seat of official power where he was sworn in 19 years ago as South Africa’s first black president. PRETORIA, South Africa — Patience Mashele put on her black, gold and green shirt, hat and skirt and left her house before dawn. She didn’t want to be late. It was time to say goodbye.
With his head and shoulders visible under a glass cover, and his body dressed in a brown shirt, his face — unmistakable to many around the world since his release from prison in 1990 after 27 years of incarceration — seemed serene. A day after the world’s leaders, celebrities and royalty gathered in a stadium to pay tribute to Nelson Mandela in a pomp-filled ceremony, Wednesday was the people’s turn. They came by the thousands, black and white, frail and spry, from gated golf estates and tin-shack squatter camps, waiting to pay their final respects to the last and most beloved of a generation of leaders who liberated South Africa from apartheid.
A day after tens of thousands of South Africans joined world leaders, including President Obama, at a sometimes rambunctious national memorial ceremony for Mr. Mandela in Soweto, the mood was more muted, a moment when the reality of his death finally settled in, and celebration of his life turned to grief at the loss. The lines, which snaked through the capital for miles, were reminiscent of the endless queues that South Africans endured in 1994 to vote for Mr. Mandela’s African National Congress in the nation’s first fully democratic elections. At the time, people stood in line, some miles long, to cast their ballots at the beginning of a hopeful new era. Now, they lined up to bid farewell, not just to a man, but also to the promise he represented.
President Jacob G. Zuma was among the first mourners to view the coffin along with family members, including Mr. Mandela’s widow, Graça Machel, and his former wife, Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, who dabbed at their eyes with white handkerchiefs. President Robert G. Mugabe of Zimbabwe bowed as he passed the coffin and the white-uniformed guards, all four of them junior naval officers, at each end of it. “For our freedom he spent 27 years in prison,” Ms. Mashele said six hours into her sun-blasted wait to see the body of Mr. Mandela. “He gave me my freedom. I can wait a little longer.”
Many of those viewing the body — among them F.W. de Klerk, the country’s last white president, with whom Mr. Mandela shared the 1993 Nobel Peace Prize, and former President Thabo Mbeki — had been on the podium during Tuesday’s memorial in Soweto. Live television coverage showed celebrities like Bono filing past. As the procession unfolded, temperatures soared in the South African summer. Mr. Mandela was lying in state on Wednesday below the sweeping facade of the Union Buildings in Pretoria, the seat of official power where he was sworn in 19 years ago as South Africa’s first black president.
The sheer number of South Africans hoping to catch a glimpse of the body appeared to have overwhelmed the authorities. Thousands were lined up at screening sites around the city to board buses to the Union Buildings. At the University of Pretoria sports facilities, a single white tent the size of a cottage was intended to serve a line that wound for hundreds of yards around the campus. With his head and shoulders visible under a glass cover, and his body dressed in a brown shirt, his face — unmistakable to many around the world since his release from prison in 1990 after 27 years incarceration — seemed serene.
“You can’t have one small tent to treat all the people,” said Thabi Taukobong, 21. “Their planning was not on point at all.” The sheer number of South Africans hoping to catch a glimpse of the body appeared to have overwhelmed authorities, with thousands lined up at screening sites around the city to board buses to the Union Buildings. At the University of Pretoria sports facilities, a single white tent the size of a cottage was intended to service a line that wound for hundreds of yards around the campus.
She was part of a group that had been waiting from early in the morning and marched back and forth before being told to join the back of a line of people waiting for a bus. At another designated assembly point, in the Pretoria showground, pandemonium broke out as thousands queued up and tried to shove their way past the police. Lines had been building since the early hours in the gathering heat. Kyle Garth, 39, from Cincinnati, Oh., said he held out little hope that the people at the back of the line would get to see Mr. Mandela. He, his South African wife and their two children had already been waiting for over five hours and still hadn’t made it into the tent. But his spirits were still high.
In the midafternoon, the authorities announced that they could not transport any more mourners to view the body that day and said people arriving at the assembly points would be turned away until Thursday. Those who did reach the Union Buildings filed past the body at a brisk pace. “The wait is definitely worth it to me,” Mr. Garth said. Without Mr. Mandela and the end of apartheid restrictions, he said, his wife never could have left South Africa and they never would have met. While the day’s transportation might be disorganized, he added, inching forward as the line shuffled on a bit, “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
Mr. Mandela’s body is to lie in state for three days before his funeral on Sunday, the latest solemn moment in the nation’s mourning for its former president and towering moral authority. Mr. Mandela’s body is to lie in state for three days before his funeral on Sunday, the latest solemn moment in the nation’s mourning for its former president and towering moral authority. Compared with the sometimes rambunctious national memorial ceremony for Mr. Mandela in Soweto on Tuesday, the mood was more muted — a moment when the reality of his death finally settled in, when celebration of his life turned to grief at the loss.
Mr. Mandela died on Thursday at age 95. At the ceremony on Tuesday, he was celebrated by Mr. Obama as the last great liberator of the 20th century. President Jacob G. Zuma was among the first mourners to view the coffin along with family members, including Mr. Mandela’s widow, Graça Machel, and his former wife, Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, who dabbed at their eyes with white handkerchiefs.
On the esplanade of the pale stone Union Buildings, a military honor guard formed up as the coffin arrived under bright skies — a marked contrast with the rain that drenched Tuesday’s ceremony in Soweto. Mandla Mandela, Mr. Mandela’s eldest grandson, led family mourners as a military band played the national anthem, Nkosi Sikelele Afrika, or God Bless Africa. On the esplanade of the pale stone Union Buildings, a military honor guard formed up as the coffin arrived under bright skies — a marked contrast with the rain that drenched Tuesday’s ceremony in Soweto. Mandla Mandela, Mr. Mandela’s grandson, led family mourners as a military band played the national anthem, Nkosi Sikelele Afrika, or God Bless Africa.
The coffin is to be transported for three successive mornings from a military mortuary to the Union Buildings, before the body is flown to the Eastern Cape for the state funeral in Mr. Mandela’s childhood home of Qunu.The coffin is to be transported for three successive mornings from a military mortuary to the Union Buildings, before the body is flown to the Eastern Cape for the state funeral in Mr. Mandela’s childhood home of Qunu.
On its way to the Union Buildings, the hearse carrying the coffin, escorted by a phalanx of police motorcycle outriders, went past knots of well-wishers on the streets of Pretoria. The authorities had urged South Africans to form a “people’s” honor guard along the route of the cortege. On its way to the Union Buildings, the hearse carrying the coffin, escorted by a phalanx of police motorcycles, went past knots of well-wishers on the streets of Pretoria. Some people bowed their heads. Others raised their fists in the militant salute Mr. Mandela favored. Women gathered to sing his praises.
Many streets in the capital were closed to normal traffic as the cortege passed by. Some people bowed their heads. Others raised their fists in the militant salute Mr. Mandela favored. Women gathered to sing his praises. As has often been the case in the days since Mr. Mandela died, the crowd was festive and joyous, singing and waving small South African flags. Then the hearse — a black Mercedes van with glass side panels — drove by, the coffin clearly visible. It was as though the procession often drew the air along with it, leaving behind silence and a sense of finality.
As has often been the case in the days since Mr. Mandela died, the crowd was festive and joyous, singing and waving small South African flags.
Then the hearse — a black Mercedes van with glass side panels — drove by, the coffin clearly visible. It was as though the procession drew the air along with it, leaving behind silence and a sense of finality.
“I think it sunk in that he was really gone when you saw the casket inside,” said Patricia Ramahanelo, 29, who works in a government records office here. “You think he’s there but immediately when you see the coffin it’s done. He’s gone. He’s no more.”“I think it sunk in that he was really gone when you saw the casket inside,” said Patricia Ramahanelo, 29, who works in a government records office here. “You think he’s there but immediately when you see the coffin it’s done. He’s gone. He’s no more.”
Ms. Ramahanelo said she was not sure she could bring herself to view the body. “I never saw him alive. I’m not sure I can see him for the first time...” her words trailing off.Ms. Ramahanelo said she was not sure she could bring herself to view the body. “I never saw him alive. I’m not sure I can see him for the first time...” her words trailing off.
“I hope we live the legacy that he left for us,” said Zelda Woodgate, 43, who works for the Labor Department. “It’s sad but he’s gone to rest.” For the public, the lying-in-state was tightly controlled, with mourners shuttled in aboard hot and packed buses.
For the public, the lying-in-state was tightly controlled, with mourners shuttled in aboard hot, packed buses. At the University of Pretoria, Kyle Garth, 39, from Cincinnati, Ohio., said he held out little hope that the people at the back of the line would get to see Mr. Mandela on Wednesday. He, his South African wife and their two children had already been waiting for over five hours and still had not made it into the tent. As Ms. Mashele, 41, waited to board one of those buses, she recounted the three times she had seen Mr. Mandela while he lived. The first was in 1990, after his release from prison. She had not yet been born when he was convicted of treason by the apartheid regime for his part in the armed struggle to liberate South Africa. Possessing his picture was illegal when she was growing up. No one knew what he would look like when he emerged, she said. Yet he was a touchstone in her life.
But his spirits were still high. “I ran away from my parents house and went to Soweto to see him,” she said with a giggle at her youthful enthusiasm. “I knew I had to see him in flesh.”
“The wait is definitely worth it to me,” Mr. Garth said. Without Mr. Mandela and the end of apartheid restrictions, he said, his wife never could have left South Africa and they never would have met. While the organization might not be very good, he added, inching forward as the line shuffled on a bit, “this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” The next time was in 1994, when she joined the throng of thousands to watch him be sworn in at the Union Buildings.
Ayanda Malinga credited Mr. Mandela with the changes in South Africa that enabled her to secure a job at a pharmaceutical company and the freedom to choose where she lives — a right denied under apartheid. “I would be restricted where I wanted to go,” said Ms. Malinga, 28. “I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t sacrificed for us.” “It was everything we had dreamed of, all those years,” she said. “Our president, Nelson Mandela, at the Union Buildings. It was history.”
Along the route of the cortege, some conversations reflected uncertainty about the future, particularly after the booing of President Zuma at Tuesday’s memorial service. Several said the memorial was not the place for such a display but none disputed the sentiment. The last time she saw him alive was at the funeral of his son, Makgatho, who died of AIDS in 2005. She traveled to Mr. Mandela’s hometown, Qunu, to pay her respects.
In death, Mr. Mandela seems to loom ever larger, his flaws sanded away in the many tributes, his image burnished for posterity, his successors smaller in comparison. “It was a sorrowful day,” Ms. Mashele said. “I wanted to be there to mourn with him.”
A tall young woman, buoyant before the cortege passed, turned suddenly somber. “How can I say? It’s a most painful thing,” she said, shaking her head. “I know he was old, but this country without him? We may be lost.” Finally, on Wednesday, her bus slowly rumbled toward the Union Buildings, with their sweeping, winged facade dominating the leafy bowl of the capital below. It has been the seat of power since it was built, an emblem of white authority until the country’s first democratic elections brought Mr. Mandela to power. The building has also been the target of protests, most notably in 1956 when thousands of women converged on it in a demonstration against the pass laws — a cornerstone of apartheid.
The Union Buildings lie on the highest point of the hills above Pretoria. The edifice, completed in 1913, was the central administrative headquarters of the Union of South Africa, the forerunner of the Republic of South Africa created in 1961. Ms. Mashele said as a child she feared the place. But now, it is a symbol of South Africa’s democracy.
The building, with its sweeping, winged facade dominating the leafy bowl of the capital below, has been the seat of power since it was built, an emblem of white authority until the country’s first democratic elections brought Mr. Mandela to power. The building has also been the target of protests, most notably in 1956 when thousands of women converged on it in a demonstration against the pass laws — a cornerstone of apartheid. As she approached the coffin, Ms. Mashele tensed.
The day was one of many reminiscences freighted with sadness. Speaking on the BBC from the Union Buildings, George Bizos, a close friend and lawyer, recalled with a choking voice that Mr. Mandela’s last words to him as the former president weakened this year had been to tell Mr. Bizos not to forget his jacket after a lunch visit. “I don’t know if I am ready,” she whispered.
“You can do it, my sister,” a police officer said, gently urging her on.
She filed past the coffin, which was surrounded by lilies, orchids and a rare aloe from Mr. Mandela’s native Eastern Cape.
“Hamba Kahle,” Ms. Mashele said, wiping tears from her cheeks. The Zulu phrase, endlessly repeated in the last few days, means “go well.”

Lydia Polgreen and Nicholas Kulish reported from Pretoria, South Africa, and Alan Cowell from London.

Lydia Polgreen and Nicholas Kulish reported from Pretoria, South Africa, and Alan Cowell from London.