Once upon a time, white nationalists in South Africa celebrated their control of the African continent and its people and the tremendous wealth they drew from this control by playing rugby:


The African people hated, hated, hated the national rugby team -- it was a symbol of every physical blow that had landed on their heads and on their backs. It was a symbol of the hatred, the constant soul-killing disrespect that had been heaped upon them for being, simply for being and for having the audacity to fight to hold onto self-respect as they lived their lives. The Springboks' anthem was a racist, nationalistic, white supremacist little ditty that they sang with gusto before every game. The team was, of course, all Afrikaner.


And then Nelson Mandela was released from Robin Island and elected President.

Within days of his inauguration as president in 1994 Nelson Mandela sent for François Pienaar, the Springboks’ captain.... He had a special role in mind for him in his political plans. “You looked at him,” Mandela said, “you considered where he came from and what you saw was a typical Afrikaner.” <snip>

Pienaar grew up in Vereeniging, an industrial town south of Johannesburg. Vereeniging weighed heavily on the minds of the residents of the nearby black township of Sharpeville. It was the place from which death had been famously visited on them. Sharpeville had endured the single worst atrocity of the apartheid era: in 1960 police opened fire on unarmed, fleeing black demonstrators, killing 69. There was probably more hatred concentrated toward whites in Vereeniging than anywhere else in South Africa. Yet Pienaar had little notion that the blacks viewed him as a mortal enemy and no sense of Sharpeville’s existence, let alone its history. Black people drifted around the fuzzier edges of his consciousness: “We were a typical, not very politically aware working-class Afrikaner family who never spoke about politics and believed 100% in the propaganda of the day.”<snip>

Yet if there was one thing Mandela had learnt in his dealings with the Afrikaners it was to see past appearances. “He did not seem to me at all to be the typical product of an apartheid society,” Mandela said. <snip>

Pleasure was the last thing on Pienaar’s mind as he stood on the stone steps of the giant Union Buildings on June 17, 1994, preparing to go inside for their first meeting. “I was incredibly tense as the moment arrived when I would meet him,” he recalled. In less than five minutes, Pienaar’s mood had been transformed. “It’s more than just being comfortable in his presence,” Pienaar recalled. “You have a feeling when you are with him that you are safe.” <snip>

Pienaar would not have guessed it at the time, but winning him over – and, through him, enlisting the rest of the Springbok team – was an important objective for Mandela. Pienaar had become the latest Afrikaner to be “enveloped”, as he himself put it, in Mandela’s aura; but he did not become an overnight evangeliser. He was a straightforward rugby man, for whom big words like “nation-building” carried little meaning. The message he took away from that meeting was a straightforward one: get out there and win, wear that shirt with pride, certain of my support. Mandela bade Pienaar goodbye as if they were already the best of friends.

In moments, the Springbok succumbed to Nelson Mandela’s charm
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/worl...

When Mandela began wearing the Springbok jersey it felt like the stab of a knife deep into the hearts of Black South Africans and their allies around the world. The pain and rage roiled the nation.



And then, over time, the Springboks replaced their ugly racist anthem with one that reflected that a new day had arrived --


And, over time, because "those people" no longer drifted around the fuzzier edges of the Afrikaner team members' consciousnesses, because they finally saw their fellow citizens clearly, the team was integrated -- and...






The end of this story hasn't been written yet. Too many black South Africans are now living in even worse economic conditions than before Apartheid ended. What will happen next? I don't know, but I am confident that this painful step -- Mandela reaching out to the much-hated Springboks -- will keep its place in the history books.

I know that this isn't a very good analogy of the events of today. The pain felt by our gay and lesbian loved ones and by all of us allies as a result of Obama inviting Warren to give the invocation is deep.

If Obama were reaching out to white supremacists we would all be clear that he felt the burn of this invitation as acutely as we all would. It isn't clear that he is feeling the pain he is causing by doing this -- if I were assured that he really felt our pain and believed it was in ALL our best interests to do this then I would feel more at peace.

Still, I think Obama's actions come from good and decent motives. That is just my opinion.

I am sorry to anyone and everyone who is hurting right now. Truly sorry.