In 1996, when he was the president of South Africa, Nelson Mandela visited Bahrain. Since the announcement of that visit, I had been preparing myself to meet one of the last respectable men of our time: the freedom fighter who taught his enemies and the world the meaning of “ethical superiority”.

En route to the press conference, my mind was full of overlapping ideas and feelings. The first time I had put up a poster of Mandela, the young lawyer issued by the UN. The poster remained on the wall of my office for years, juxtaposed to a snapshot from the Vietnam War, captured by the late Australian photographer Neil Davis (who was killed during a coup attempt in Thailand in 1985). In moments of enthusiasm, my mind would recall our golden rule: “Don’t fall in love with the sources.”

I reached the press conference early and took a front row seat, close to the dias. The old man arrived surrounded by his aides. Oh, at last! I was face to face with my hero.

He talked for few minutes and answered all our questions in a very friendly manner. Once it was over, I rushed to the dias and picked up my recorder, extended my right hand towards him saying: “Sir, give me the honour to tell my grandsons that one day I shook hands with Nelson Mandela.” He looked at me and replied: “The honour is mine, my son.” He added: “Can you help me stand?” For a moment, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing ... the great freedom fighter and the president of the Republic of South Africa asking me to help him stand. But my eagerness to meet my hero pushed me around to hold his left hand while his aide held his right. The old man stood and extended his hand towards me saying: “The honour is to me, my son.” I was still holding his strong hand when I told him: “Sir, my colleagues and I would love to take a photo with you.” He smiled and replied: “Ok, where do you want me to stand son?” We stepped in front of the dias and I waved to all colleagues to line up for the camera.

Time passed and Mandela was out of office but he came to Bahrain again in 2004 on a private visit, and we were called to meet him. He was aging and you needed to shout when talking to him. But his smile and sense of humour were still the same. I greeted him, saying loudly: “Sir, it’s a pleasure seeing you again here.” He smiled and replied: “Yes, it’s a pleasure seeing our old friends who stood with us for years in our struggle ... I remember you, my son, from my first visit to Bahrain.” He spoke for an hour and then everybody was keen to take a photo with this great leader. All lined up around his chair, but this time I chose to sit in front of him.

Mandela booked his place in history through a long and bitter struggle along with his people against one of the worst, most inhuman regimes in history. At the end of his long detention, he proved that he was not only a relentless and solid fighter but also a rare type of statesman when he gave the world the most valuable lesson: “Forgiveness instead of revenge.” History will judge Mandela as one of the greatest freedom fighters and statesmen, motivated by human sense rather than interests and selfishness of any kind. He gave another definition to interests among his people, and between nations, linked to justice rather than selfish motives.

The glorification of Mandela and lofty speeches praising his virtues must become policy principles within each country and in international relations as well. Mandela gave the world an ultimate experience in smooth transition from revolution to state. He taught us that maintaining the unity of a nation torn apart by strife and grievances required overcoming the painful burden of our collective memory. Healing the wounds of the past is not necessarily done by repeating the policies that lead to them; and justice is not necessarily revenge or “eye for an eye”.

He gave the world a lesson in loyalty and in taking international relations away from hypocrisy. He didn’t give up on those who supported his people’s struggle for decades in favour of the big powers. That’s why he didn’t renege on Yasser Arafat and the Palestinian struggle against the sister regime of the Apartheid regime. Or Fidel Castro and Cuba for the sake of the Americans who kept his name on the list of those who were banned from entering the United States for years after his release.

That was the wisdom of the old man, which saved his country at a crucial and historic time. He achieved that great mission with few words: “I can’t forget, but I can forgive”.

When Mandela passed away, I recalled my little tale with him and the lesson is looming in front of me: breaking that golden rule was worth it because the man was an exceptional type of leader.

Mohammad Fadhel is a Bahraini writer and media consultant based in Dubai.