Nelson Mandela: The African Teacher

| Photo by John-Paul Henry on Unsplash

The opinions reflected in this OpEd are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of staff, faculty and students of The King's College.

During the 2020-2021 Interregnum, The King’s College pondered the theme of reconciliation. In this ongoing conversation about reconciliation not only at King’s but in America in general, one foreign, global leader is often underemphasized. He reconciled a divided South Africa through his lifestyle of combating injustice while simultaneously preaching forgiveness and unity. 

Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela, known to many native South Africans as ‘Madiba,’ which means ‘father,’ was born on July 18, 1918, in Mvezo, a tiny village in the Umtata district of the Transkei, about 800 miles east of Cape Town. 

During his studies at the University of Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, Madiba joined the African National Congress (ANC). The ANC was the political party made up of non-whites who pledged to fight for full citizenship rights on behalf of all non-white South Africans during apartheid. 

Officially instituted in 1948, apartheid was a system of segregationist laws against non-white South Africans. These laws instituted policies like the Group Areas Act, where non-whites, the majority of the population, were forced to live in areas that comprised 15% of the total South African land. 

During the apartheid regime, the minority of the population (whites) denied and oppressed the majority (non-whites). In rebellion and with a thirst for justice, Madiba and other members of the ANC, such as Oliver Tambo and Walter Sisulu, retaliated using sabotage and civil disobedience.

During his political struggle for freedom, Madiba not only spoke out and protested against racial discrimination and injustice but also fervently stressed the importance of forgiveness and unity among whites, Blacks and all the South Africans in-between. 

Shortly before his Speech From the Dock in 1964, Madiba was threatened with the death penalty for his involvement with the ANC. Yet, just before he was sentenced to lifetime imprisonment, he did not neglect to speak of his vision of a country united by its commonalities, not torn apart by their differences.

“I have fought against white domination, and I have fought against Black domination,” he said. “I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.”

Today, South Africans pride ourselves in being a ‘rainbow nation,’ where peoples of all races and cultural backgrounds can unify under a common flag, territory and national anthem. This was Madiba’s mission: reconciling the oppressors with the oppressed and having both parties share power beneath an umbrella of mutual trust and equality.

In his autobiography, The Long Walk to Freedom, Madiba establishes a powerful philosophy of freedom based on reconciliation itself.

“I knew as well as I knew anything that the oppressor must be liberated just as surely as the oppressed,” he writes, “A man who takes away another man’s freedom is a prisoner of hatred, he is locked behind the bars of prejudice and narrow-mindedness. I am not truly free if I am taking away someone else’s freedom, just as surely as I am not free when my freedom is taken from me. The oppressed and the oppressor alike are robbed of their humanity.”

Because he equated true freedom and human excellence with reconciliation, Madiba was able to walk out of prison and, instead of wielding the fist of retribution, extend the open hand of peace and forgiveness.

After becoming South Africa’s first Black president in 1994, Madiba did not seek to turn the tables on the white population but sought to bring both whites and non-whites to a common ground where they could step forward into the future together. He was well aware of the desire of non-whites to seize power and dominate the whites. 

Rory Stein, 57, former commander of the police’s VIP Protection Unit and Bomb Disposal Unit, body guarded Madiba during his presidency. Stein agrees with this notion and told me a story where, on the day Mandela was sworn in, he attended a soccer game and greeted the players before returning to the Union Building in Pretoria for a black-tie lunch with 180 other world leaders. 

Before leaving the stadium, and after already getting into the car, Madiba climbed out, simply to talk to a white police colonel.

“His eyes got bigger and bigger because the president was walking directly towards him and he’s got no idea why, and neither did we.” Stein said. “The president stopped in front of this old, apartheid era police colonel and he said ‘Colonel, I just want to tell you that from today, there is no you and us. You are now our police too.’”

“This old warrior, he started to cry,” Stein continued, “and the president just tapped him on the shoulder, and said: ‘It’s okay colonel, I just wanted you to hear that.’”

That officer represented the system that had unjustly pursued, arrested, convicted and imprisoned Madiba for 27 years. Yet, on the day he came to power, Madiba was instantly ready to make peace with every person who was a part of or benefited from that unjust regime. 

“On the day he realizes his own freedom and that of his people, he starts with this agenda of reconciliation by getting out of the car, walking across the floor, and telling that to that colonel.” Stein said. “It didn’t take me long to be convinced that this man was genuine about reconciling South Africa, reconciling black and white, building one nation.”

Many of the Americans who know who Madiba was only understand the grand narrative of his life: the freedom fighter who was wrongly imprisoned for his beliefs, was released and became president. Few understand that the effect of his leadership was deeper than simply reducing racism in South Africa. 

For example, Clint Eastwood’s movie Invictus brilliantly illustrates Madiba’s effort to rally the nation behind not only a single rugby team, but a white, Afrikaner rugby team known as the Springboks. When Mandela donned a green and yellow Springbok jersey, he showed white South Africans that he was serious about the reconciliation he so fervently preached before his presidency.

“We didn’t believe the stuff he said when he came out of jail, and we were suspicious of where he was going to take the country,” Stein added. “Think about it, in every single instance in Africa when a colonial government was replaced by a liberation movement, they swept the colonial government away. And we were just waiting for the ANC to sweep us into the sea. But Mandela said ‘no.’”

This Black president not only stepped into Afrikaner culture, but he encouraged the whole nation to do so by supporting the rugby team which represented all South Africans, irrespective of individual skin color. This brought a unified South Africa onto the world stage. 

Mandela’s lifestyle is a testimony and a lesson to the world that bitter animosity can be effectively treated on a country-wide scale, yet this much-needed picture and example of racial reconciliation is unknown to many 21st century Americans. 

Imagine if more Americans saw Madiba’s heart displayed in Invictus and his desire for reconciliation between bitterly divided South Africans. Imagine if more social justice activists acted towards their opposition in a more Mandela-like way. Would this be a more effective way to combat the racial divide currently plaguing much of the world? 

If it worked in South Africa, why not elsewhere? Mandela left a legacy which, to many, is an unearthed treasure. 

Rafa is a Sophomore studying Journalism, Culture, and Society (JCS). Rafa was born and raised in Johannesburg, South Africa. He moved to the U.S. in the latter stages of his high school career and has been at King’s for a year.