President Nelson Man dela's 80th birthday - he was born in a village in the Transkei as the first World War drew to an end - is an appropriate time to take stock of post-apartheid South Africa, particularly as a general election will take place within a year.
Once polling is completed next May, Mr Mandela will formally hand over to his successor, almost certain to be Deputy President Thabo Mbeki, who was elected national leader of the ruling African National Congress last December, a position which conferred the status of president-designate on him.
Mr Mbeki faces a more difficult task than that which confronted Mr Mandela when he was inaugurated as South Africa's first democratically-elected president after the ANC emerged as the decisive winner of the April 1994 general election.
The euphoria generated by the "miraculous" transition from minority rule to non-racial democracy is largely dissipated. Hope may not have been totally displaced by disillusionment but it is undoubtedly diminished by it.
These figures tell their own tale: when Mr Mandela was inaugurated at a moving ceremony in Pretoria, the rand-dollar exchange rate was R3.64 to the dollar; today it is R6 to the dollar. The fall has been particularly steep in recent weeks, falling by 16 per cent since May 22nd. The full impact of the decline, and the attempts by the reserve bank to defend the rand by raising interest rates, have yet to impact on the economy.
The hoped for GDP growth rate of 3.8 per cent - as projected in GEAR, the macroeconomic policy adopted by the ANC-led government in mid-1996 - is no longer a viable proposition. Instead, South Africa will have to settle for a sharply diminished growth rate of 1 per cent, provided there are no further mishaps; an increase in the inflation rate (now running at 5.2 per cent); and, critically, a sharp rise in unemployment.
Many political observers believe unemployment is South Africa's most urgent problem. Economist Mr Tony Twine calculates that about 30 per cent of South Africa's adult population of roughly 20 million people is totally unemployed. These people are not among those who work in the formal sector (7 million) or those, including subsistence farmers, who eke out a living in the informal sector (7.5 million).
Unemployment - and under-employment - is recognised by the ANC-led government as a major challenge, particularly because it is a potentially explosive factor in South Africa's political economy. It is one of the reasons why the government abandoned its socialist inclinations and adopted GEAR, with its emphasis on fiscal discipline, attracting investment, privatisation of state-owned corporations and, crucially, job creation.
But instead of witnessing a reduction in unemployment, South Africa has experienced jobless growth. Where GEAR was meant to generate 252,000 new jobs last year, 130,000 formal sector jobs were shed, according to the giant Congress of South African Trade Unions (Cosatu).
Succeeding President Mandela is a difficult enough task given his immense charisma and international status. The crisis of confidence in the rand, and growing opposition to GEAR from the ANC's allies, Cosatu and the South African Communist Party (SACP), make it a particularly onerous task for Mr Mbeki.
The deputy president is recognised as an intelligent man and an astute, tough-minded politician. However, he does not generate the same enthusiasm as Mr Mandela. Nor does he have the same capacity to attract support from South Africa's disparate racial and cultural communities, and hence advance the progress of nation building.
One of the major challenges confronting him is South Africa's high rate of crime. Its murder rate is one of the highest in the world, although official statistics, put out by the South African Police Service (SAPS), point to a steady decrease since 1994, the year when the ANC took power.
These figures contradict the image of South Africa as a society where crime has increased sharply since the ANC won in 1994. They explain why Mr Mandela criticised the media at the ANC's December conference for failing to reflect the official data in their coverage of crime, implying that some journalists may be pursuing an undeclared agenda to denigrate his government and undermine its credibility at home and abroad.
But an important rider needs to be added: the problem is that the accuracy of the official statistics is questioned in a high proportion of South African homes, particularly those in the white community.
As crime spreads from the old black townships to the previously white suburbs, many whites have a direct experience of brutal crime for the first time. If they are lucky enough to escape that, they usually have a friend or relative who has been a victim. It creates an opaque shield against the optimism implicit in official tables showing that most serious crime, including murder, rape and robbery with aggravating circumstances, is either decreasing or stabilising.
Even if the findings of statisticians in the Ministry of Safety and Security are not disputed, the situation is still serious. As the latest SAPS report shows, South Africa's crime ratios give it unfavourable rankings on a list drawn up by Interpol. Its rankings are: rape - 1st; sex offences generally - 2nd; robbery and violent theft - 2nd; and murder - 3rd.
Mr Mbeki starts with one central advantage over Mr Mandela: the high levels of political violence which threatened to wreck the pre-1994 settlement talks and the 1994 election have been drastically reduced.
There is, however, one major exception to that: the hamlet of Richmond in KwaZulu-Natal, where 25 people have been murdered by faceless assassins in the past fortnight.
Richmond is the home of former ANC warlord Mr Sifiso Nkabinde, who was expelled from the ANC in April 1997 as an alleged police agent and who was last month elected provincial leader of the United Democratic Movement. This is an opposition party founded by former Transkei military ruler Mr Bantu Holomisa (who was himself expelled from the ANC in September 1996), and former National Party secretary general Mr Roelf Meyer.
There is the risk of the violence in Richmond spilling over and rekindling the conflict between the ANC and the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) which claimed thousands of lives in KwaZulu-Natal between 1985 and 1995. The murder of two ANC men by gunmen in the province hundreds of kilometres from Richmond serves as a sombre warning.
Mr Mbeki has sought to build links with the IFP. But to avoid violence, he may have to negotiate a settlement with the Mr Nkabinde and the UDM. The ANC has so far refused to do so, charging that Mr Nkabinde is a "criminal" masquerading as a politician.
Another major challenge awaiting Mr Mbeki is to curb the "culture of entitlement" which has taken root in sectors of the black community.
Those infected by it believe they are entitled to what they demand and go on a rampage when it is denied to them.
To cite a recent example, even as Mr Mandela was preparing to celebrate his 80th birthday, striking workers set fire to a conference room at the headquarters of the Electricity Supply Commission. The fact that the utility is a state-owned corporation and that it is headed by a black man made no difference.
In may ways, the road ahead is as long and hard for Mr Mbeki as it was for Mr Mandela when he joined the struggle in the 1940s against white rule.
