“I’d a taken a bullet for yah,” said the black bodyguard to the white stand-in double for the US President in the movie Dave.
Rory Steyn was the white bodyguard for the black President of South Africa. Nelson Mandela, a prisoner on the notorious Robben Island for 27 years, became the first democratically elected leader in the country’s history.
For three years, from 1996 to 1999, Steyn was the Chief of Staff for the VIP Protection Unit and Bomb Disposal Unit of the South African Police Service (SAPS). In that role he was also a Team Leader for the president’s Personal Protection Unit (PPU), responsible for Nelson Mandela’s security both domestically and internationally.
In his book One Step Behind Mandela, Steyn speaks of his esteem for the president he once regarded as a terrorist. He describes what it was like protecting the leader who could have sacked him for suspected subversive activity. He talks candidly of his respect for the statesman whom he at first feared would lead the nation into bloody civil war. But instead Mandela’s leadership led the racially divided nation from the brink of bloodshed to unexpected levels of peace and stability.
Steyn was drafted into VIP Protection early in his career. He specialised as an investigator, intelligence field worker and in bomb disposal. Along with the protection of the president he was responsible for the safety of many other high profile South African dignitaries, visiting heads of state and celebrities.
South Africa, from the time of Mandela’s release from prison in 1990 and especially after the first democratic elections in 1994, became the destination of choice for many of the world’s political leaders and pop-culture icons.
Protecting Prince Philip
Steyn describes the security details for the inauguration of the new president on the 10th May 1994 as a nightmare. Officers of the old white apartheid regime and former members of the ANC military wing were teamed up and tasked with the toughest of assignments.
They had 12 days to co-ordinate the security of 184 heads of state or their representatives; Fidel Castro, Hilary Clinton and Yasser Arafat, to name a few:
As is the case with all carefully laid plans, things did not go according to schedule and eventually there was a massive traffic snarl (all over Pretoria). Prince Philip simply got out of the car and walked to the venue. He would casually stop passers-by, ask for directions, and eventually surprising everyone by arriving at the VIP breakfast on foot.
Almost Ending Steve Waugh’s Career
The Australian cricket team toured South Africa early in 1994 against the backdrop of an extremely volatile South Africa. The tour ended just days before the historic elections that swept Mandela into power. Steyn was given the responsibility for the Johannesburg leg of the tour.
The Aussies lost the First Test. Steyn accompanied them to Sun City, for some game viewing, golf and relaxation. He describes what happened when he took a few of them water-sliding:
Steve (Waugh) went just before me. I waited much longer than the safety steward indicated I should, before I followed (him down). Towards the end of the ride I was really moving . . . next moment I slammed into something human with a sickening jolt, eliciting an anguished scream, before both Steve and I tumbled out into the pool. When I saw his face I was really worried. I raced off to find the Aussie physio.
In his 1994 tour diary, Waugh wrote after the first day of the Second Test in Capetown, “My lower back and buttocks are still stiff and sore from that Sun City incident.” It didn’t stop Waugh from scoring 86 in the first innings, taking a career best 5-28 in South Africa’s second innings and winning Man of the Match.
On the 1997 tour Steyn caught up with Steve and asked how his back was. “Still sore mate. It never really goes away.” Imagine if Steyn had tried to hurt him!
Breakfast With Paul Simon
Paul Simon was the first high profile entertainer to visit South Africa after sanctions were lifted. His 1992 tour saw tensions in the country running high. The ANC supported the tour but the Azanian People’s Organization (Azapo) was strongly opposed. Ellis Park security arrangements were massive.
A hand grenade was thrown into the office of the tour promoters. Rory, an explosives expert, was sent to the scene. Simon’s management wanted to cancel the tour. Rory’s advice was sought. He suggested that Azapo had little support and recommended that the tour continue.
(Simon) was reassured by my answer and asked that I be assigned to him for the rest of the tour. My work was cut out for me with demonstrations at each concert. The day they were due to leave South Africa Paul and I were having breakfast together and he asked me, “Rory, how do you see South Africa turning out?” I answered that I was optimistic, that one day it would be a great country.
An All Black For An Ugly Moment
For the 1995 Rugby World Cup, two bodyguards were appointed to travel with each team. Steyn was assigned to the All Blacks, having worked with them in 1992.
Two nights before the final, Steyn took a few All Black players to the movies. But he had to race Jeff Wilson and Richard Loe back to the hotel as they were violently ill. He describes what followed:
When I got upstairs to the doctor’s room it looked like a battle-field. Players were lying everywhere and the doctor was walking around injecting them Now, I was a police officer and I worked with facts. What my eyes saw that night was that the team had deliberately been poisoned. It was one of the toughest few days of my life. I had to endure accusations of complicity by a NZ official and I was angry that this was allowed to happen in my country to people ‘in my care’. When the All Blacks took to the field on that historic day, 24 June 1995, I wanted them to win. THAT is hard for me to say. It was only when I heard that huge crowd of mainly white South Africans chant their president’s name, “Nelson, Nelson, Nelson,” did my patriotism return.
The President’s Man
These stories are a selection of Rory Steyn’s experiences in the years leading up to his appointment as the man, who for three years, was one step behind Mandela.
Rory Steyn will be in Sydney at the end of October as a guest of Anglican Aid. He will speak at meetings around the Diocese (for details visit www.anglicanaid.org.au) of his experiences protecting the man who, in our generation, epitomised principles of forgiveness and reconciliation.
But, above all, Rory Steyn will speak of the One whose life and death has made forgiveness and reconciliation possible for all humanity. Rory will share his story of being reconciled to God and forgiven for all eternity through the death and resurrection of Jesus.
For the risen Jesus is the One whom Rory serves, not just for three years, but both now in this life and the next.
