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Obama includes gay rights in Mandela speech

President says people are still persecuted for ‘who they love’ around the world

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President Obama delivers a speech on Nelson Mandela in a memorial service in South Africa (Screenshot courtesy YouTube).

President Obama delivers a speech on Nelson Mandela in a memorial service in South Africa (Screenshot courtesy YouTube).

President Obama made a veiled reference to the struggle for gay rights across the world in his speech at the memorial service in South Africa honoring the life of the Nelson Mandela.

Obama made the reference to gay rights — saying people around the world are still persecuted for “who they love” — when making a generalized statement about the struggle for equality in which Mandela led the way in South Africa.

“The struggles that follow the victory of formal equality or universal franchise may not be as filled with drama and moral clarity as those that came before, but they are no less important,” Obama said. “For around the world today, we still see children suffering from hunger and disease. We still see run-down schools. We still see young people without prospects for the future. Around the world today, men and women are still imprisoned for their political beliefs, and are still persecuted for what they look like, and how they worship, and who they love. That is happening today.”

In remarks delivered at First National Bank Stadium on a rainy day in Johannesburg, South Africa, Obama commemorated Nelson, who worked to end apartheid in the country. After being imprisoned for 27 years, Nelson entered negotiations to achieve that goal and became the first South African elected in a fully representative democratic election.

In his 15-minute speech, Obama said Mandela served as an inspiration in part because his willingness to admit imperfection encouraged others to make similar endeavors in pursuit of equality.

“For nothing he achieved was inevitable,” Obama said. “In the arc of his life, we see a man who earned his place in history through struggle and shrewdness, and persistence and faith. He tells us what is possible not just in the pages of history books, but in our own lives as well.”

According to a pool report, Obama received a big roar from the crowd when he concluded his remarks. In addition to shouting and applause, the sound of the horn made famous during the World Cup, the Vuvuzela, filled the stadium. As Obama walked away from the stage, people rushed through the stands to see him.

Upon the news of his death, LGBT rights advocates praised the legacy of Mandela, saying he helped inspire them to achieve equality for LGBT people. Under the leadership of Mandela, South Africa became the first country in the world to add a ban on discrimination based on sexual orientation into its constitution.

Also in attendance for the memorial service were first lady Michelle Obama, former President George W. Bush, former President Bill Clinton and former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. President Obama made headlines by shaking the hand of Cuban President Raul Castro, who also in the audience.

Read Obama’s full remarks as provided by the White House here:

THE WHITE HOUSE

Office of the Press Secretary

December 10, 2013

REMARKS BY PRESIDENT OBAMA

AT MEMORIAL SERVICE FOR FORMER SOUTH AFRICAN

PRESIDENT NELSON MANDELA

First National Bank Stadium

Johannesburg, South Africa

 

1:31 P.M. SAST

PRESIDENT OBAMA:  Thank you.  (Applause.)  Thank you so much.  Thank you.  To Graça Machel and the Mandela family; to President Zuma and members of the government; to heads of states and government, past and present; distinguished guests — it is a singular honor to be with you today, to celebrate a life like no other.  To the people of South Africa — (applause) — people of every race and walk of life — the world thanks you for sharing Nelson Mandela with us.  His struggle was your struggle.  His triumph was your triumph.  Your dignity and your hope found expression in his life.  And your freedom, your democracy is his cherished legacy.

It is hard to eulogize any man — to capture in words not just the facts and the dates that make a life, but the essential truth of a person — their private joys and sorrows; the quiet moments and unique qualities that illuminate someone’s soul.  How much harder to do so for a giant of history, who moved a nation toward justice, and in the process moved billions around the world.

Born during World War I, far from the corridors of power, a boy raised herding cattle and tutored by the elders of his Thembu tribe, Madiba would emerge as the last great liberator of the 20th century.  Like Gandhi, he would lead a resistance movement — a movement that at its start had little prospect for success.  Like Dr. King, he would give potent voice to the claims of the oppressed and the moral necessity of racial justice.  He would endure a brutal imprisonment that began in the time of Kennedy and Khrushchev, and reached the final days of the Cold War.  Emerging from prison, without the force of arms, he would — like Abraham Lincoln — hold his country together when it threatened to break apart.  And like America’s Founding Fathers, he would erect a constitutional order to preserve freedom for future generations — a commitment to democracy and rule of law ratified not only by his election, but by his willingness to step down from power after only one term.

Given the sweep of his life, the scope of his accomplishments, the adoration that he so rightly earned, it’s tempting I think to remember Nelson Mandela as an icon, smiling and serene, detached from the tawdry affairs of lesser men.  But Madiba himself strongly resisted such a lifeless portrait.  (Applause.)  Instead, Madiba insisted on sharing with us his doubts and his fears; his miscalculations along with his victories.  “I am not a saint,” he said, “unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying.”

It was precisely because he could admit to imperfection — because he could be so full of good humor, even mischief, despite the heavy burdens he carried — that we loved him so.  He was not a bust made of marble; he was a man of flesh and blood — a son and a husband, a father and a friend.  And that’s why we learned so much from him, and that’s why we can learn from him still.  For nothing he achieved was inevitable.  In the arc of his life, we see a man who earned his place in history through struggle and shrewdness, and persistence and faith.  He tells us what is possible not just in the pages of history books, but in our own lives as well.

Mandela showed us the power of action; of taking risks on behalf of our ideals.  Perhaps Madiba was right that he inherited, “a proud rebelliousness, a stubborn sense of fairness” from his father.  And we know he shared with millions of black and colored South Africans the anger born of, “a thousand slights, a thousand indignities, a thousand unremembered moments…a desire to fight the system that imprisoned my people,” he said.

But like other early giants of the ANC — the Sisulus and Tambos — Madiba disciplined his anger and channeled his desire to fight into organization, and platforms, and strategies for action, so men and women could stand up for their God-given dignity.  Moreover, he accepted the consequences of his actions, knowing that standing up to powerful interests and injustice carries a price.  “I have fought against white domination and I have fought against black domination.  I’ve 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.”  (Applause.)

Mandela taught us the power of action, but he also taught us the power of ideas; the importance of reason and arguments; the need to study not only those who you agree with, but also those who you don’t agree with.  He understood that ideas cannot be contained by prison walls, or extinguished by a sniper’s bullet.  He turned his trial into an indictment of apartheid because of his eloquence and his passion, but also because of his training as an advocate.  He used decades in prison to sharpen his arguments, but also to spread his thirst for knowledge to others in the movement.  And he learned the language and the customs of his oppressor so that one day he might better convey to them how their own freedom depend upon his.  (Applause.)

Mandela demonstrated that action and ideas are not enough.  No matter how right, they must be chiseled into law and institutions.  He was practical, testing his beliefs against the hard surface of circumstance and history.  On core principles he was unyielding, which is why he could rebuff offers of unconditional release, reminding the Apartheid regime that “prisoners cannot enter into contracts.”

But as he showed in painstaking negotiations to transfer power and draft new laws, he was not afraid to compromise for the sake of a larger goal.  And because he was not only a leader of a movement but a skillful politician, the Constitution that emerged was worthy of this multiracial democracy, true to his vision of laws that protect minority as well as majority rights, and the precious freedoms of every South African.

And finally, Mandela understood the ties that bind the human spirit.  There is a word in South Africa — Ubuntu — (applause) — a word that captures Mandela’s greatest gift:  his recognition that we are all bound together in ways that are invisible to the eye; that there is a oneness to humanity; that we achieve ourselves by sharing ourselves with others, and caring for those around us.

We can never know how much of this sense was innate in him, or how much was shaped in a dark and solitary cell.  But we remember the gestures, large and small — introducing his jailers as honored guests at his inauguration; taking a pitch in a Springbok uniform; turning his family’s heartbreak into a call to confront HIV/AIDS — that revealed the depth of his empathy and his understanding.  He not only embodied Ubuntu, he taught millions to find that truth within themselves.

It took a man like Madiba to free not just the prisoner, but the jailer as well — (applause) — to show that you must trust others so that they may trust you; to teach that reconciliation is not a matter of ignoring a cruel past, but a means of confronting it with inclusion and generosity and truth.  He changed laws, but he also changed hearts.

For the people of South Africa, for those he inspired around the globe, Madiba’s passing is rightly a time of mourning, and a time to celebrate a heroic life.  But I believe it should also prompt in each of us a time for self-reflection.  With honesty, regardless of our station or our circumstance, we must ask:  How well have I applied his lessons in my own life?  It’s a question I ask myself, as a man and as a President.

We know that, like South Africa, the United States had to overcome centuries of racial subjugation.  As was true here, it took sacrifice — the sacrifice of countless people, known and unknown, to see the dawn of a new day.  Michelle and I are beneficiaries of that struggle.  (Applause.)  But in America, and in South Africa, and in countries all around the globe, we cannot allow our progress to cloud the fact that our work is not yet done.

The struggles that follow the victory of formal equality or universal franchise may not be as filled with drama and moral clarity as those that came before, but they are no less important.  For around the world today, we still see children suffering from hunger and disease.  We still see run-down schools.  We still see young people without prospects for the future.  Around the world today, men and women are still imprisoned for their political beliefs, and are still persecuted for what they look like, and how they worship, and who they love.  That is happening today.  (Applause.)

And so we, too, must act on behalf of justice.  We, too, must act on behalf of peace.  There are too many people who happily embrace Madiba’s legacy of racial reconciliation, but passionately resist even modest reforms that would challenge chronic poverty and growing inequality.  There are too many leaders who claim solidarity with Madiba’s struggle for freedom, but do not tolerate dissent from their own people.  (Applause.)  And there are too many of us on the sidelines, comfortable in complacency or cynicism when our voices must be heard.

The questions we face today — how to promote equality and justice; how to uphold freedom and human rights; how to end conflict and sectarian war — these things do not have easy answers.  But there were no easy answers in front of that child born in World War I.  Nelson Mandela reminds us that it always seems impossible until it is done.  South Africa shows that is true.  South Africa shows we can change, that we can choose a world defined not by our differences, but by our common hopes.  We can choose a world defined not by conflict, but by peace and justice and opportunity.

We will never see the likes of Nelson Mandela again.  But let me say to the young people of Africa and the young people around the world — you, too, can make his life’s work your own.  Over 30 years ago, while still a student, I learned of Nelson Mandela and the struggles taking place in this beautiful land, and it stirred something in me.  It woke me up to my responsibilities to others and to myself, and it set me on an improbable journey that finds me here today.  And while I will always fall short of Madiba’s example, he makes me want to be a better man.  (Applause.)  He speaks to what’s best inside us.

After this great liberator is laid to rest, and when we have returned to our cities and villages and rejoined our daily routines, let us search for his strength.  Let us search for his largeness of spirit somewhere inside of ourselves.  And when the night grows dark, when injustice weighs heavy on our hearts, when our best-laid plans seem beyond our reach, let us think of Madiba and the words that brought him comfort within the four walls of his cell:  “It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”

What a magnificent soul it was.  We will miss him deeply.  May God bless the memory of Nelson Mandela.  May God bless the people of South Africa.  (Applause.)

END                 1:50 P.M. SAST

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Japan

Japanese Supreme Court to consider marriage equality

Japan only G7 country that does not legally recognize same-sex couples

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Japanese Supreme Court (Photo public domain)

The Japanese Supreme Court on Wednesday said it will consider six marriage equality lawsuits.

NHK, the country’s public broadcaster, noted all 15 of the court’s justices will consider the case.

Japan is the only G7 country that does not legally recognize same-sex couples, despite several court rulings in recent years that found the denial of marriage benefits to gays and lesbians unconstitutional.

Tokyo High Court Judge Ayumi Higashi last November upheld Japan’s legal definition of a family as a man and a woman and their children.

Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi, who became the country’s first female head of government last October, opposes marriage rights for same-sex couples. She has also reiterated the constitution’s assertion that the family is an institution based around “the equal rights of husband and wife.”

Same-sex couples can legally marry in Taiwan, Nepal, and Thailand.

NHK reported the Supreme Court is expected to issue its ruling in early 2027.

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Botswana

Lorato ke Lorato: marriage equality, democracy, and the unfinished work of justice in Botswana

High Court considering marriage equality case

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(Bigstock photo)

As Botswana prepares for the resumption of a landmark marriage equality case before the High Court on July 14–15, the country finds itself at a critical constitutional crossroads.  

At first glance, the matter may appear to be about whether two women, Bonolo Selelelo and Tsholofelo Kumile, can have their love legally recognized. At its core however, this case is about something far more profound: the dismantling of patriarchy, the decolonization of law, and the integrity of Botswana’s constitutional democracy. 

Beyond marriage: a question of power 

Marriage, as a legal institution, has never been neutral. It has historically functioned as a  mechanism for regulating women’s bodies, sexuality, and social roles within a patriarchal  order. To deny LBQ (lesbian, bisexual, and queer) women access to marriage is not merely to exclude them from a legal benefit, it is to reinforce a hierarchy of relationships, where heterosexual unions are deemed legitimate and all others invisible. This case therefore challenges the very foundations of who gets to love, who gets to belong, and who gets to be protected under the law. 

As feminist scholars have long argued, patriarchy is sustained through institutions that  appear ordinary but are deeply political. The law is one such institution. And it is precisely  here that this case intervenes: by asking whether Botswana’s legal system will continue to uphold exclusion, or evolve to reflect the constitutional promise of equality. 

A constitutional journey: Botswana’s courts and human dignity

This is not the first time Botswana’s courts have been called upon to affirm the dignity of  LGBTQI+ persons. Over the past decade, the judiciary has built a progressive body of  jurisprudence grounded in equality, nondiscrimination, and human dignity. 

In Attorney General v. Rammoge and Others (Court of Appeal Civil Appeal No. CACGB 128-14, 2016), the Court of Appeal upheld the right of LEGABIBO to register as an organization. The court affirmed that: 

“The refusal to register the appellant society was not only unlawful, but a violation of the  respondents’ fundamental rights to freedom of association.”

This was followed by the ND v. Attorney General of Botswana (MAHGB-000449-15,  2017) case, where the High Court recognized the right of a transgender man to change his gender marker. The court held: 

“Gender identity is an integral part of a person’s identity … and any interference with  that identity is a violation of dignity.” 

In Letsweletse Motshidiemang v. Attorney General (MAHGB-000591-16, 2019), the High Court decriminalized same-sex activity, declaring sections of the Penal Code unconstitutional. Justice Leburu powerfully stated: 

“Human dignity is harmed when minority groups are marginalized.” 

This decision was affirmed by the Court of Appeal in Attorney General v. Motshidiemang (CACGB-157-19, 2021), where the court emphasized: 

“The Constitution is a dynamic instrument … it must be interpreted in a manner that gives effect to the values of dignity, liberty, and equality.” 

These cases collectively establish a clear principle: the Constitution of Botswana protects all persons, not just the majority. 

The marriage equality case now asks a logical next question: If LGBTQI+ persons are entitled to dignity, identity, and freedom from criminalization, why are their relationships still denied recognition? 

Decolonizing the law: What is truly ‘UnAfrican’? 

Opponents of marriage equality often argue that homosexuality is “unAfrican.” This claim, while politically powerful, is historically inaccurate. Same-sex relationships and diverse gender identities have existed across African societies long before colonial rule. What is foreign, however, are the laws that criminalize these identities. 

Botswana’s anti-sodomy laws were inherited from British colonial legal systems, not from  indigenous Tswana culture. As scholars of African history have demonstrated, colonial  administrations imposed rigid Victorian moral codes that erased and suppressed existing  sexual diversity. To claim that homosexuality is unAfrican, while defending colonial-era laws, is therefore a contradiction.

A truly decolonial approach to the law requires us to ask: Whose morality are we upholding? And whose history are we erasing? 

Marriage equality, in this sense, is not a Western imposition: it is part of a broader project of reclaiming African dignity, plurality, and humanity. 

Democracy on trial: the question of separation of powers

This case also raises important questions about the health of Botswana’s democracy. 

Following the 2021 Court of Appeal decision affirming the decriminalization of same-sex  relations, Botswana witnessed public demonstrations, including marches led by groups such as the Evangelical Fellowship of Botswana (EFB), opposing the judgment and calling for the retention of discriminatory laws. 

While public participation is a cornerstone of democracy, these events raise deeper concerns about the separation of powers. Courts are constitutionally mandated to interpret the law and protect fundamental rights, even when such decisions are  unpopular. When judicial decisions grounded in constitutional principles are publicly resisted on moral or religious grounds, it risks undermining the authority of the courts  and the rule of law itself. 

Democracy is not simply about majority opinion: it is about the protection of minority rights within a constitutional framework. 

Botswana is not a theocracy 

It is also important to clarify a recurring misconception: Botswana is not a Christian nation. 

Botswana is a secular constitutional democracy and more accurately, a pluralistic society that recognizes and respects diversity of belief, culture, and identity. The Constitution does not elevate one religion above others, nor does it permit religious doctrine to  dictate legal rights. The law must serve all citizens equally, regardless of faith. 

To frame marriage equality as a threat to Christianity is therefore misplaced. The question before the courts is not theological, but constitutional: Does the exclusion of same-sex couples from marriage violate the rights to equality and nondiscrimination?

Love, equality, and the future of justice 

At its heart, this case is about love, but it is also about power, history, and justice. It asks whether Botswana is prepared to move beyond colonial legal frameworks and patriarchal  norms, and to embrace a future grounded in equality, dignity, and inclusion. 

It asks whether the Constitution will continue to be interpreted as a living document, one that evolves with society, or remain constrained by outdated moral assumptions. Ultimately, it asks whether Botswana’s democracy can hold true to its founding promise: that all persons are equal before the law. 

As the High Court prepares to hear this case in July 2026, the nation has an opportunity to affirm not only the rights of two individuals, but the broader principle that love, in all its diversity, deserves recognition, and protection. 

Lorato ke lorato.  

Love is love. 

Justice, if it is to mean anything at all, must make space for it.

Nozizwe is the CEO of LEGABIBO (Lesbians, Gays and Bisexuals of Botswana)

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District of Columbia

‘No Kings’ protests set for D.C.

Anti-Trump demonstrations to take place across country on Saturday

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A 'No Kings' protest took place in D.C. on Oct. 18, 2025. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

As President Donald Trump and his administration escalate rhetoric targeting transgender youth and student athletes, push efforts to restrict voting access for millions of Americans, and pursue foreign policy decisions that critics say bypass congressional authority, organizers across the country are once again mobilizing in protest.

For many LGBTQ advocates, the moment feels especially urgent.

In recent months, activists have pointed to a surge in anti-trans legislation, attacks on gender-affirming care, and efforts to roll back nondiscrimination protections as direct threats to the safety and visibility of queer and trans communities. Organizers say the demonstrations are not just about policy, but about defending the right of LGBTQ people — particularly trans youth and people of color — to live openly and safely.

Thousands of “No Kings” protests are planned nationwide, with multiple demonstrations set to take place in D.C.

One of the primary events, “No Kings Washington,” will be held in Anacostia, an overwhelmingly Black area of D.C. that is often at the center of conversations around racial justice, policing, and access to resources in the nation’s capital.

The protest in Anacostia is focused on what organizers describe as the “power behind the throne,” specifically Stephen Miller, the White House Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy and Homeland Security Advisor. Miller has been closely associated with the administration’s “zero tolerance” immigration policy, including the family separation practice that resulted in thousands of children being separated from their parents at the Southern border.

Activists have also linked immigration enforcement policies to broader concerns about LGBTQ migrants, including queer asylum seekers who often face heightened risks of violence and discrimination both in their home countries and within detention systems.

Anacostia protest details:

Participants are asked to gather starting at 1:30 p.m. on the southeast side of the Frederick Douglass Bridge. The closest Metro station is Anacostia on the Green Line, about an 8-minute walk from the starting point. Organizers strongly encourage attendees to use public transportation, as street parking is limited.

The march will proceed past Fort McNair and conclude near the Waterfront Metro station.

D.C. icon and LGBTQ activist Rayceen Pendarvis is set to speak at the protest around 2 p.m.

Kalorama protest details:

A separate protest will take place earlier in the day in Kalorama, a neighborhood long associated with political power and home to presidents, cabinet officials, and foreign ambassadors. Demonstrators are expected to gather at 10 a.m., with a march running until approximately noon near the intersection of Connecticut Avenue and Kalorama Road.

Arlington/National Mall protest details:

Another group is expected to assemble at Memorial Circle near Arlington National Cemetery at 10 a.m. before crossing the Memorial Bridge into D.C., passing the Lincoln Memorial and continuing on to the Washington Monument. Organizers say the march is intended to defend “American democracy, the rule of law, and a healthy planet.”

Unlike last June — when organizers discouraged large-scale demonstrations in D.C. due Trump’s military/birthday parade — activists are now explicitly calling on people to show up in the nation’s capital and surrounding areas.

The protests also coincide with Transgender Day of Visibility weekend, which includes additional gatherings and celebrations on the National Mall. At the same time, peak bloom for the National Cherry Blossom Festival is expected to draw large crowds to the city. With multiple major events happening simultaneously, officials and organizers anticipate significant congestion, increased traffic, and crowded public transit throughout the weekend.

Organizers are urging participants to plan ahead and come prepared.

“Bring your signs, noisemakers, music, and creative ideas, and gather in joyful, nonviolent protest,” they said. “Children are very welcome.”

For more information, visit nokings.org.

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