A FILM crew who followed Nelson Mandela to Oslo last year were amazed to find him, on the morning he was to receive the Nobel Peace Prize, making his own hotel room bed. It was one of the habits he picked up during his prison years which now stand as a symbol of a man who has kept a certain simplicity and down-to-earth style, learnt in the lime quarries of Robben Island.

It was that same man who promised, during his pre-election television debate with FW de Klerk, to call a halt to the government gravy train. And who, as recently as a fortnight ago, said we would have to tighten our belts.

But South Africans are not going to do so when they see that their leaders, Mandela included, have a loose notch or two on their own belts. Why should trade union members respond to call for wage restraint when parliamentarians show so little of it themselves? What credility is there in the drive to cut back on the obesity of the civil service when the people promising to do so could do with a bit of dieting themselves?

The issue is not just one of how much politicians earn. It has coalesced around the number of houses available to the presidency and vice-presidencies, the cost of renovation and foolish and uncontrolled expenditure on non-essentials like replacement silverware. These have suddenly presented themselves as symbols of a new elite hitching a ride on the gravy train.
This is a political problem, not an accounting problem -- the solution is a political one, not a bureaucrat's one.

What is required is a set of meaningful counter-symbols. Mandela needs to show, through a bold gesture or two, that he and his vice-presidents are prepared to sacrifice some of their luxuries in order to set an example for the country.

Nobody is asking them to live in hardship. Mandela has had more than his fair share of that. What is needed is a powerful and meaningful display of sensible belt- tightening, a move to divert some of the wasteful expenditure to more important causes.

You made the bed, Mr Mandela. Now sleep in it.