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There were several unforgettable moments, in the early years of South Africa’s transition to democracy, that illustrated Nelson Mandela’s masterly use of symbolism to advance reconciliation in our country. His capacity and skill in bringing South Africans together, after a history of bitter conflict, is the primary reason the former President established himself in the front rank of the world’s greatest statesmen.

A number of these moments were immortalised in the film Invictus, which tells the story of how the President united the nation behind the Springbok rugby team that went on, against all odds, to win the 1995 Rugby World Cup. The most famous moment of “Madiba Magic” occurred when the President walked onto the field in the No 6 Skipper’s jersey to show his support for Francois Pienaar’s team.

But for me, his leadership was best illustrated in another, preceding scene in the film. Re-wind to the meeting of the South African National Sports Council where an important decision had just been taken. The Council has unanimously resolved to change the name and emblem of Springbok rugby to obliterate the painful reminder of the apartheid past. Flushed with a sense of their own power, the Council is listening to a choir when Mandela interrupts their celebration with words they did not expect to hear. A silence descends on the room. Disbelief and incomprehension reflect on their faces, as Mandela shows why his name is synonymous with leadership. His words, as they are captured in the film script, are worth quoting:

“Brothers, sisters, comrades
I am here because I believe you have made a decision with insufficient information and foresight.
I am aware of your earlier vote.
I am aware that it was unanimous.
Nonetheless, I believe we should restore the Springboks.
Restore their name, their emblem and their colours immediately.
Let me tell you why&hellip&hellip”

He then goes on to explain how, during his 27 years in prison on Robben Island, he worked hard to understand his jailers, their language Afrikaans, their history and their culture. Since that time, says Mandela, the ANC had prevailed against their “enemy”, winning power in an election. Then he continues&hellip..

“Our enemy is no longer the Afrikaner.
They are our fellow South Africans, our partners in democracy.
And they treasure Springbok rugby.
If we take that away, we lose them.
We prove that we are what they feared we would be.
We have to be better than that.
We have to surprise them with the compassion, with restraint and with generosity.
I know all the things they denied us.
But this is no time to celebrate petty revenge.
This is the time to build our nation using every single brick available to us&hellip&hellip..”

After a few moments of hostile silence, he wins enough support to reverse the decision. And the rest (as they say) is history.

It was this quality of courageous, counter-intuitive leadership, that made Mandela the hero of all South Africans who understand that our only chance of success is to become one nation, building a shared future, with fair opportunities for all.

But his gestures of magnanimity also carried an inherent risk. Some South Africans began to equate reconciliation with the preservation of the status quo, conveniently exempting themselves from the challenge of reciprocal generosity.

This mind-set still exists in some quarters. A topical example involves the naming of streets and places in towns and cities across South Africa.

The DA takes the following approach: We believe that the names of places and streets in towns and cities should reflect all its residents’ histories and heroes. As Mandela said, names and symbols should not be the terrain of “petty revenge” or defensiveness. We must acknowledge our discriminatory and unjust past, and genuinely seek to develop inclusive cities, where all feel welcome.

In this respect, I was inspired by a story I heard during my discussion with the DA’s Free State Executive Committee this weekend. When faced with the ANC provincial government’s proposal to change Eeufees Ave into Kenneth Kaunda Ave in the Mangaung municipality, the DA-dominated ward committee made a counter-proposal. They said they would prefer to re-name the street after Winkie Direko, the late former Free State Premier, who had once lived in the street and had earned respect across party lines. It is this common-sense approach, which seems to characterise the Free State, that has earned that province a reputation for nation-building and reconciliation like no other.

Sadly, at the other extreme, was the ANC in eThekwini (Durban), where the ANC forced blanket name changes onto every highway and by-way to show that they were now in charge and would re-write history. One form of exclusion merely replaced another. Inevitably, resentment and polarisation grew. It got to a point so absurd that the ANC vetoed a statue of an elephant in case voters associated it with the Inkatha Freedom Party! Small wonder that this Province has had some of the worst inter-party violence in South Africa’s history.

We could all do well to learn from these opposite examples. As “street name” controversies escalate in towns and cities across the province, we can approach them either as an opportunity to promote reconciliation – or division. For the millions of South Africans who prefer the former option, it makes sense for the various parties to begin by drawing up broad principles they can all support before negotiating the “nitty gritty” of individual name changes. Here is a “road map” to follow, derived from the starting premise that the names of streets and places should promote nation-building, not undermine it.