Bloomberg Businessweek - USA (2020-08-03)

37

prisonin1990—pursuingreconciliationwithhispersecutorsand

layingthegroundworkfora multiethnicdemocracy—changed

Duncan’sviews,andbythetimeMandelabecamepresident,

hewasa convert.Whenhehappenedtomeeta busdriverwho

knewMandela’sprivatesecretary,it seemedlikefate.Duncan

gottoknowthesecretaryandnegotiatedwithhertohelpfund

theSowetoclinic,whichMandelawasalsosupporting,giving

himthechancetomeethishero.

Duncanwasn’tinattendancewhentheprototypehand

wentupforauctioninJune2003.Thesalewentwell,withan

unidentifiedprivatebuyerpaying425,000rand,thenabout

$46,000.Duncanmadehismovea fewmonthslater.Thefour

handsheboughtincludeda clenchedfistsymbolicof 1964 and

a three-partset,correspondingto1990,consistingofanother

fist,anoutstretchedhand,anda palmimprint.Unlikethe

prototype,theywerehollow,likechocolateEasterbunnies,

topreventexcessweightfromdeformingtheirshapeover

time.Halfthe2.7millionrandthathesayshepaidwastobe

donatedviaHarmonytotheChildren’sFund,a conditionthat

DuncansayswonhimMandela’sblessing.(TheChildren’sFund

didn’trespondtorequestsforcomment,whiletheNelson

MandelaFoundation,whichfunctionsastheprimarycusto-

dianofMandela’slegacy,didn’tprovideonebeforethedead-

lineforthisstory.)

Duncansecuredthehandsina bankvault,figuringhe’d

decidelaterhowtodisplaythem.Butattitudesaboutobjects

honoringtheformerpresidentsoonchangeddramatically.

In2005,Mandelafileda suitagainsthisformerlawyer,Ismail

Ayob,andRossCalder,a publisherwho’dworkedwithAyob

onwhatbuyersassumedwasofficiallysanctionedMandela

art,accusingthemofexploitinghisimage.Mandelawas 86

atthetime,andtheimplicationofthesuitwasclear:thatthe

pairhadbeentakingadvantageofanincreasinglyfraillegend.

Laterthatsameyear,Mandelaexpandedhislegalfight,going

afterdozensofcompaniessellingsimilarparaphernalia. (The

legal action against Ayob and Calder was never concluded; both

denied wrongdoing.) The market for Mandela art collapsed.

For Duncan, this presented a problem. Not long after buy-

ing the hands he’d decided to relocate to Canada, spurred

by a home invasion in which his 11-year-old son was held at

gunpoint. He needed capital to set up an auto parts company

there, and selling the hands seemed like an obvious way to

obtain it. But the controversies around Mandela art meant

buyers were scarce, and anyone willing to contemplate a

purchase wanted proof that Mandela had authorized their

casting and sale to Duncan—assurances, in other words, that

he wasn’t just another profiteer. Duncan couldn’t offer any.

He had no formal ownership papers, only metal plates that

Harmony supplied and Calder signed. He had no way to get

in touch with the ailing Mandela to clear things up, nor could

he prove the hands were among only a few in existence. In

2015 he thought he was near a sale—to a Saudi family he says

was willing to pay $27 million—only to have it fall apart when

he couldn’t produce the necessary paperwork.

With no buyer willing to write a check, Duncan was increas-

ingly fearful that someone would steal the hands. At one point

he painted them black—“I thought, if nobody knows they’re

gold, who’s going to steal a hand,” he says—and buried them

underhisgarageinCalgary.

It tookDuncanyearstoestablishthehands’provenanceto

thestandardsexpectedbytheinternationalartmarket, just in

timefora boomina commoditythatarguablyhasevenless

real-worldutilitythangold.In 2018 hemetLenSchutzman,a

formerPepsiCoexecutivewhowasrunninga cryptocurrency

startupinWaterloo,Ont.,thehomeoftheBlackBerry.The

company,Arbitrade,hadanunconventional pitch for inves-

tors: It would back every virtual coin it minted with physical

gold. When Schutzman learned about the hands, he made

Duncananoffer:$10millionforallfour.Theshinyappend-

ages,Schutzmansaid,wouldbecomethecenterpieceofan

Arbitradepromotional tour and symbols of the gold-backed

stability the company offered. A longer-run plan, of question-

able taste even by crypto-world standards, would see the hands

back a Mandela-themed digital currency.

Duncan loved the idea of putting the hands on tour. He

wanted them to be seen, providing the same inspiration to

others that he’d drawn from them over the years, but he

didn’t have a way to display them to the public himself. And

Arbitrade seemed to be good for the money, paying about

$5.8 million, according to legal filings, to take possession of

two hands and pay for part of a third. The others would fol-

low once the balance was settled.

But Arbitrade’s dream of uniting crypto-enthusiasts and

gold bugs was not to be, and the company ran into trouble

in 2019. The hands Arbitrade had paid for went to one of its

backers. Duncan was dejected. As an aesthetic matter, he’d

always thought the four hands should be displayed as a set;

COURTESY MALCOLM DUNCAN (4)

Duncan during the New York auction