I told you I was addicted to politics. As the election campaigns heat up, I am struck by the mantra of leadership. I am sad to say that I don't believe many of our leaders understand this term. Granted, it is not my place to judge leaders, only to look for those examples of exceptional leaders after which I might model myself. I do have observations about the current crop of leadership in my country, but I will save those for another time.
I am currently watching the ESPN documentary The 16th Man directed by Clifford Bestall, which covers the events surrounding the 1995 Rugby World Cup, which united South Africa under President Nelson Mandela in the aftermath of apartheid. I would strongly urge everyone to read the book Playing the Enemy by John Carlin to get a complete overview of these events, but if you don't have the time, The 16th Man is available to watch instantly on Netflix, and it's a good place to smart.
I found it interesting while watching The 16th Man to learn of how frightened the South African whites were when Mandela was elected president in April 1994. The great fear among whites was that Mandela, who had spent 27 years in prison, would lead blacks in an uprising, as blacks outnumbered whites six-to-one. But Mandela did not lead an uprising. What he did instead was reach out to the whites, stating that they were a vital piece of a unified South Africa.
In the film, two of Mandela's many grand gestures of peace stand out. The first, and most obvious, focuses on rugby. During the time of apartheid, rugby was considered the white man's game, a symbol of the white oppressors, and the Springbok logo on the heart of the South African team's jerseys was as hated by the blacks as the swastika is by the Jews. There were moves by black leaders to have rugby abolished entirely, but Mandela urged them to reconsider; rugby was loved by the whites, almost rabidly so, and to abolish this sport would be akin to an act of war. Mandela then scored another major coup by bringing the Rugby World Cup to South Africa. Mandela became a devoted fan of the team, and he shocked his black supporters by standing before them wearing a Springbok jersey, almost the equivalent of Israeli president Shimon Peres waving a Palestinian flag.
The second of Mandela's many grand gestures towards peace, while mentioned in the film, is almost a footbote amid the high-octane energy of rugby. One of Mandela's enemies at the time is white conservative leader Koos Botha, who admits onscreen that he believed Mandela a terrorist worthy of death. How did Mandela respond? He appointed Botha to a delegation. This act sent a clear message that Mandela wanted to lead all of his people, not just those passionate followers who loved him.
In the mid 1990s, during the early years of my sobriety, I did not pay much attention to world affairs, so the story of Mandela and the 1995 Springbok rugby team escaped my attention. I only stumbed upon it quite by accident a few years ago, which was the result of a series of strange coincidences:
In late 2007, my wife and I were watching Jay Leno on late-night TV because Jay's first guest was one of our favorite actors, Russell Crowe. We lived in central Florida at the time, so when Crowe announced on Leno that he was bringing his rugby team, the South Sydney Rabbitohs, to Jacksonville for a friendly match against the Leeds Rhinos, we decided to get tickets in the hopes that we might catch a glimpse of Russell at the event.
The match was held in February 2008, and we did catch a glimpse of Russell at that event; I even got a few good pictures. But the most exciting thing to come out of the day was that I developed a love of rugby. At once, after watching this fascinating exhibition rugby match, I began to lurk on rugby message boards, learning more about the game. I even made friends with a few Rabbitoh fans in Queensland, Australia, and we keep up correspondence to this day.
A couple of years later, mid 2008, I believe, I learned that one of my favorite actors from my childhood, Clint Eastwood, was making a movie about Nelson Mandela and the famous rugby game of 1995. By now, I was a full-blown rugby fan, so I began to do research, and I found the book mentioned above (which was the source material for Eastwood's stirring film Invictus), and my love of rugby led me to develop a love of Mandela and all that he stood for.
Mandela is a true leader. The hard, judgmental part of me wants to point fingers at the leaders here in America and say, "See? You could take a page from this man's book!" But I realize that I am taking the wrong approach. When we see a person who inspires us, we should use his or her better qualities to inform our own growth, not as a measuring stick for someone else. I can do nothing to mould Barack Obama or Mitt Romney into an image I find more suitable, one that more closely resembles Mandela, but I can try to mould myself into that image.
The hardest part of this process--for me, anyway--is to adopt Mandela's rare ability to look at his most hateful enemies and still extend a hand of friendship. But if any man had a reason to hate, it was Mandela--he was imprisoned for 27 years by these enemies, after all. If Mandela can forgive and mend bridges that he himself did not burn, why cannot I? In the Christian faith, the idea of Christ's forgiveness is difficult for some to grasp, but I believe the God of my understanding knows this, which is why he gives us other examples from our own present day.
I have heard many criticisms leveled against Mandela from those here in America resistant to some of his policy decisions (his record has a few things that make people from either side of the political aisle grip a bit). My response to this is that he is not a god. He is a man, and a man cannot please all of the people all of the time. But if we look at his character, if we examine how this leader was able to make even his enemies live in peace with him, we might have a blueprint for making our own journeys a little easier.
That's the way I see it, anyway.
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