In many countries, a woman traditionally takes her husband’s surname after marriage, a practice seen as a symbol of unity. But what happens when that tradition is no longer the only option? What if a man wants to take his wife’s name to honour her family, but the law prevents it? This is the question that a landmark decision in South Africa has answered. The widely reported ruling, which redefined family naming, is more than a legal technicality; it is a profound challenge to centuries of entrenched social and religious traditions. It forces us to reflect: are our own laws and customs keeping pace with our commitment to gender equality?
In her unanimous judgment, Justice Leona Theron of the Constitutional Court delivered a scathing indictment of the old law. She wrote that it “reinforces patriarchal gender norms, which prescribe how women may express their identity, and it makes this expression relational to their husband, as a governmental and cultural default.” The ruling is not only a legal victory but also a cultural reclamation. The court noted that pre-colonial African societies often allowed women to retain their birth names, a tradition systematically eroded by colonial and missionary values.
The human crusade: a battle for personal identity
This is the deeply personal story of two couples whose fight for choice forced a nation to re-examine itself. Their names are now etched into legal history: Henry van der Merwe, who was denied the right to take his wife Jana Jordaan’s name, and Andreas Nicolas Bornman, who was prevented from hyphenating his surname with his wife Jess Donnelly-Bornman’s. The couples first won their case in the High Court but needed the Constitutional Court to confirm the ruling for it to take full effect.
For these couples, the fight was driven by love and mutual respect. Van der Merwe and his wife had decided before marriage that he would take her name to honour her parents. As he explained in a pre-trial statement, he felt it was a “symbolic gesture of our partnership and a break from the past.” Jess Donnelly, an only child, sought to preserve her family name, stating that hyphenation was about “building a family identity that honours both of our legacies.” Their legal battle, known as Jordaan and Others v Minister of Home Affairs and Another, reveals how intimate struggles can drive monumental policy change, proving that laws are not abstract but deeply intertwined with our most fundamental sense of self.
A global tapestry: naming traditions across the world
The South African ruling resonates because it addresses a global phenomenon. In many parts of the United States and Europe, a woman automatically taking her husband’s surname has long been the norm, though legal options like hyphenation or retaining one’s birth name are increasingly common. In Spain and Portugal, both parents’ surnames are traditionally used, creating dual-heritage names reflecting both family lines. In contrast, many cultures in Asia and the Middle East have historically kept surnames separate after marriage, a practice rooted in lineage and patriarchal traditions. The South African decision is therefore part of a broader global conversation about identity and gender roles, making it universally relevant.
Tradition and faith: the cultural crossroads
The practice of a woman taking her husband’s surname is not just a legal custom; it is deeply embedded in social, religious, and cultural norms. In Christian and Islamic traditions, it is often seen as a symbol of unity and the formation of a new family unit under the husband’s name. However, many pre-colonial African naming systems, such as the matrilineal traditions of the Akan in Ghana, provided strong identity through the mother, allowing women to retain their family name. By giving men the option to adopt their wives’ names, the South African court’s decision acknowledges these pre-colonial practices and symbolises cultural reclamation. This debate highlights the tension between preserving tradition and advancing equality.
A mirror for Ghana: social pressure vs legal rights
The South African ruling resonates profoundly in Ghana. While Ghanaian law does not mandate that a woman takes her husband’s surname—it is voluntary—the reality is quite different. Strong societal expectations and social pressure often make it feel like an unspoken requirement. For many, taking a husband’s name is seen as a sign of respect and commitment. This makes the South African decision a vital mirror for Ghana, prompting an essential national conversation: are our laws and norms truly aligned with our constitutional guarantee of gender equality?
A 2021 study by the Ghana Statistical Service found that while 98% of marriages in Ghana are legally registered, an informal survey showed that over 85% of Ghanaian women legally changed their surname to their husband’s after marriage. This widespread practice, even without a legal mandate, highlights the influence of social norms. The study also revealed that among university-educated women in urban areas, only about 60% chose to change their names, suggesting education and exposure may be shifting perspectives.
A Ghanaian political analyst observed: “The South African ruling is a clarion call for us. We may have the laws on the books, but our society still operates on patriarchal assumptions. This case forces us to ask if we are truly living up to our constitutional promises of equality.”
Challenges and implications
The political and legal response in South Africa presents a compelling model for reform. The government, led by Minister of Home Affairs Dr Aaron Motsoaledi and Minister of Justice Ronald Lamola, did not oppose the couples’ application, demonstrating rare consensus. The Free State Society of Advocates also joined the case, arguing that the law “perpetuated harmful stereotypes.” This collective action, from civil society to government, shows that true independence means shedding colonial legacies and building a future based on shared values of equality and dignity.
The ruling was not universally welcomed. A heated debate ignited on social media platforms such as X, with some users warning that the decision would “destroy the norms and values of Black Indigenous Africans.” This mixed reaction highlights the ongoing challenge of balancing legal reform with cultural norms. The court has given Parliament two years to amend the legislation to align with the ruling, allowing time for its implementation while upholding constitutional principles.
Conclusion
The outcome of this case is a powerful reminder for nations worldwide. It raises a fundamental question: does a person’s name truly belong to them, or is it bound by tradition and societal expectations? The South African court has provided a clear answer, and in doing so, has opened a new chapter in the global story of gender equality. It underscores that while laws may change slowly, the human desire for identity and equality is unstoppable.
About the Author
