Nelson Mandela gives World Cup a dream finale with a wave and a smile

Former president caps nation-building tournament spirit with appearance at Johannesburg's Soccer City stadium
Nelson Mandela and his wife Graca Machel wave to fans at Soccer City stadium
Nelson Mandela and his wife Graca Machel wave to fans during the closing ceremony of the 2010 World Cup at Soccer City stadium in Johannesburg. Photograph: Michael Kooren/Reuters

And so the circle was complete. Nelson Mandela, who presided over the birth of a democratic South Africa, took centre stage again last night at the country's coming of age.

Wrapped against the winter cold, Mandela beamed and waved to nearly 85,000 spectators before they together witnessed Spain claim its first World Cup with victory over the Netherlands.

The fans at Soccer City stadium in Johannesburg rose to their feet to give a thunderous welcome to their living legend, with roars, applause and blasts on their vuvuzelas. It was the dream symbolic finale for the biggest sporting event Africa has ever seen, a momentous chapter in the history of both country and continent. It was also a memorable prelude to a somewhat forgettable final.

Mandela, who turns 92 next Sunday, had pulled out of the opening ceremony after the death of his great-granddaughter in a car accident hours before. There had been uncertainty about his appearance last night, with his grandson accusing Fifa of putting "extreme pressure" on the anti-apartheid hero.

But the backstage row melted away with the first glimpse of the man who has become something of a secular saint to millions. Mandela in black coat and generous fur hat made stately progress in a golf cart across a white carpet laid on the pitch for the tournament's closing ceremony.

South Africa's first black president grinned from ear to ear and waved his gloved hands, though his arms needed support from his wife, Graça Machel, who also smiled enthusiastically.

Mandela had passed a late fitness test to make the final, observed one joker on Twitter. He was the undoubted star of a vibrant show which also saw Colombian singer Shakira deliver her World Cup anthem, Waka Waka, after hundreds of performers formed a human vuvuzela. Dancers wearing colours of the 32 competing nations performed before a backdrop of pictures of stars and fans beamed onto the pitch.

Others, dressed in white elephant costumes, trooped on to the field towards the image of a watering hole, accompanied by the harmonies of South African group Ladysmith Black Mambazo.

Gumboot dancers and performers leapt on animated musical instruments including the marimba. Fans were also treated to a light show and fireworks. The words, For Africa, and, in multiple languages, Thank you, were projected onto the pitch.

Guests included Archbishop Desmond Tutu, former UN secretary general Kofi Annan, Spain's Wimbledon tennis champion Rafael Nadal, supermodel Naomi Campbell, South African-born actress Charlize Theron and American actor Morgan Freeman, who played Mandela in the recent film Invictus. Sixteen heads of state were reportedly present, Zimbabwe's Robert Mugabe among them.

They witnessed a final far from a classic, won for Spain in extra-time by a goal from Andrés Iniesta, to the despair of the Dutch. Fifa had hoped the frail Mandela would present the trophy, but the honour fell instead to its president, Sepp Blatter, accompanied by South Africa's leader, Jacob Zuma.

That brought down the curtain on a World Cup that, hiccups apart, was a success which surpassed not only the expectations of the Afro-pessimists. More than 3 million people filled world class stadiums with a rare generosity of spirit. Perceptions and prejudices about Africa were upended around the world.

Zuma said: "This has been a truly inspiring, moving and uplifting month. Well done South Africa." Machel, promoting the 1Goal education for all campaign, captured the mood: "Well done, South Africa! Did you realise how enthusiastic we can be? Did you realise how our security and safety improved this month? Road accidents, criminals, everything dropped. We even had those courts able to solve issues in record time. We can make it. Yes, we can!"

The Sunday Independent declared it was Africa's greatest moment, adding: "Cost of tournament: R40bn. Hosting the best one: Priceless." An advert for bank FNB said simply: "Today this is the greatest country in the world."

But what of tomorrow? What comes after the greatest show on earth? The World Cup was six years in planning and came to define the national agenda and daily conversations from townships to vineyards. Over the month it has put South Africa at the centre of global attention.

"I think there'll be huge post-World Cup blues on Monday," said Danny Jordaan, the tournament's chief organiser, reaching the end of a personal odyssey of 16 years. "There'll be a great sense of loss. It's like you've had a huge party, and then there's the morning after."

But there is a legacy. "Just 20 years ago we were a society entrenched on a racial basis by law," said Jordaan. "Black and white could never sit together in stadiums, go to the same school, or play in the same football team. Within 20 years, we saw white supporters having their faces painted in the Ghana colours, supporting young Africans.

"That's something this World Cup has brought: nation building and social cohesion. People walked tall. They were very proud of this country. They were told over many years, you are inferior, you cannot do these things because of our history. So that was a psychological barrier the nation crossed: the world is saying this may be the best ever World Cup and this was an African World Cup."

Jordaan, president Jacob Zuma and Archbishop Desmond Tutu have been reaching for superlatives to describe this transformative moment. They have made comparisons with the release of Nelson Mandela from prison 20 years ago and the country's first democratic election in 1994.

But they may not want to push the analogy too far. The euphoric optimism of the early Nineties was so unrealistically high that the only way was down. Many South Africans have since become disillusioned about political corruption and cronyism, a chronically slow response to the HIV/Aids epidemic and the failure to lift millions out of poverty.

There is now anxiety among South Africans about a similar jolt from what has been a delirious dream. How can the feelgood momentum be sustained? Jordaan said: "I was talking to people on the fan walk in Cape Town and that was the question they asked. They said, 'Can't you bring another World Cup? How do we capture the World Cup atmosphere and make that the life of South Africans on a permanent basis?'

"There is a sense of pride and achievement. We'll have to see how we will ensure that pride is not the pride of 90 minutes in a World Cup but a permanent feature. Some people say find it in the hosting of the Olympics, find it another big event. I think we must find it in addressing some of the issues - housing, health, education, economic growth. We have to come together to deal with some of these issues."

Not everyone shared in the World Cup honeymoon. Some missed the games because they had neither TVs nor electricity. People still died from Aids, or in poverty, or at the hands of criminals. The voices of dissent, marginalised during the month-long jamboree, are returning to the fore: if we can spend billions on football grounds, why can we not build houses for the homeless or hospitals for the sick? They wonder why it took Fifa, an immovable deadline and a worldwide audience to concentrate minds.

Patrick Bond, director of the Centre for Civil Society, which ran a World Cup Watch project, said: "The elite have pulled off bread and circuses for the masses. We live in one of the most unequal societies in the world, and we've just seen an amplification of that inequality. The costs will become increasingly clear."

There are fears that an ugly side of patriotism is about to reveal itself with rumours of a fresh wave of xenophobic attacks on foreign nationals. Mindful of the violence that left 62 people dead two years ago, some are already fleeing back to their home countries or South Africa's rural areas. The army is on the streets and last week Reason Wandi, a Zimbabwean, told how he was thrown from a moving train.

South Africans are accustomed to riding incredible highs and apocalyptic lows. They will go to work tomorrow knowing their moment in the sun has passed, and wondering with some anxiety what awaits in the shade. But there will also be some lingering epiphanies and quiet satisfaction at what they achieved.

Dennis Davis, a leading judge, said: "I think it would be insane for South Africans not to feel proud, particularly because of so much Afro-pessimism and so much negativity, that we've been able to pull this off in extraordinary way. It has been an unbelievable month.

"For me, what comes out of this, is how do we - without an event, without an imposition of a deadline - capture the joy and spirit and community? How do we actually translate that into something beyond a month? Why should it not be possible to do it on a more permanent basis?"