South Africa’s political crisis does not exist in isolation. It unfolds in a global environment where democratic institutions are increasingly weakened by misinformation, selective morality, geopolitical pressure, and the deliberate shaping of public narratives.
Across the world, political discourse is no longer simply contested through ideas but through campaigns that blur the line between fact, perception and strategic messaging.
Concerns about organised attempts to shape public perceptions of black leadership, governance and legitimacy have long formed part of our political conversation.
Some claims once dismissed as conspiratorial have, over time, become harder to ignore when placed alongside the recent public reports, where political messaging and racialised narratives have circulated in South Africa’s democracy.
This does not mean every allegation should be accepted uncritically. But it does require us to recognise that political narratives are not always organic. They are often constructed, repeated and strategically amplified and, at times, statistically unreal, for example, “white genocide“.
To blame propaganda alone would be intellectually lazy. The ANC has presided over institutional decay and weakened public confidence, as well as failures of governance that have frustrated millions of South Africans.
Corruption has rightly dominated public discussion, but corruption is not the root of the crisis. It is the outcome of something deeper: organisational decline, weakened leadership pipelines, poor implementation and the replacement of competence with political loyalty.
The ANC has failed in some respects. That conclusion is difficult to dispute.
Political paradox
The more difficult question is whether any existing political alternative has demonstrated the legitimacy, coherence and national reach required to govern South Africa as a whole.
I do not believe there is.
This is South Africa’s political paradox. The ANC, despite its failures, remains the only movement able to lead the country at the level of the state. Not because it governs exceptionally well. Not because it has fulfilled the fullness of its promise of liberation, but because no other party has yet demonstrated the breadth of democratic trust, historical understanding and social reach required to hold together a country as complex as South Africa.
Political architecture
If you are honest, you will admit that there have been credible exhibits over the past 20 years supporting this, particularly in South Africa’s most difficult terrains.
This argument should not be mistaken for unconditional loyalty to the ANC. Nor should it be read as a defence of poor governance. It is an argument about constitutional architecture and political reality.
And yes, we are currently under the government of national unity (GNU), which was intended to reflect the political choices of South Africans while encouraging cooperation across ideological divides.
It offered an opportunity to combine experience, broaden expertise, and reset public confidence in government. But a broader executive does not necessarily produce a better government.
The existence of the GNU, therefore, does not alter the central posture posed in this piece. It reinforces it. South Africa’s challenge has never been representation alone. It has been the ability to convert diverse participation into decisive leadership, institutional capability and policy coherence.
Among the GNU’s principal partners, the DA has presented itself as a party of constitutionalism, clean governance and equal opportunity. We have, however, been exposed to questions that contrast with this presentation.
The party has also often struggled to convince many South Africans that its understanding of equality fully accounts for historical inequality and structural disadvantage. Recent public debates around redress and transformation have again shown how contested its vision of equality remains.
The DA may offer managerial competence in some contexts, especially when that proficiency is beneficial to its core voter base, but national government requires more than efficiency. It requires a social contract capable of speaking truthfully to historical injustice, economic concentration and the lived realities of the majority.
The EFF (which refused to be part of the GNU) raises important questions about land, ownership and economic exclusion. But sharp rhetoric cannot substitute for institutional credibility.
A party seeking national leadership must ultimately demonstrate that it can govern beyond performance, outrage and political theatre that has at times lacked substance and has shown obscurity about who such theatre is actually standing for.
Newer formations have also struggled to move from protest into public stewardship. Some have shown promise — in fact, real ability at the municipal level — but localised success does not automatically translate into national governing legitimacy.
Place within Africa
South Africa’s future depends not only on protecting its national interests but also on understanding its place within Africa and an increasingly interconnected world. Responsible leadership requires both.
And within the tension of the Africa for Africans conversation, South Africans have well articulated that this responsibility cannot rest only on South Africans; Africans within their own region must protect and fight for their interests.
But back to the premise of this thought, and within the context of South Africa, localised success remains of paramount importance, and here these new formations can lead.
South Africa’s problem, therefore, is not a shortage of political parties. It is the separation of legitimacy from capability. The ANC retains national legitimacy but has lost much of its governing capability.
Some opposition parties have developed pockets of administrative capability but have not built comparable national legitimacy. The country’s crisis sits precisely in that gap.
Illegal immigration is but one illustration of this failure of state capability. Migration is not inherently a threat, and South Africa has constitutional pillars towards lawful migrants, refugees and asylum seekers. But illegal immigration becomes destabilising when the state fails to administer borders, documentation and enforcement credibly.
For many working-class black South Africans, the issue is experienced through pressure on jobs, housing, clinics, schools and public services. In cities such as Cape Town, however, migration is experienced differently.
Here, the conversation must also account for migrants with larger pockets, whose impact is more often felt through urban management, housing demand, property markets and changing local economies than through competition for public services.
It must be said that a credible immigration system imposes reciprocal obligations: the state must uphold the rights of those lawfully present, and those lawfully present must respect South Africa’s constitutional order, laws and citizens. When it fails to do so, communities are left to absorb the social consequences.
Appeals to Pan-African solidarity without state capacity does not level the playing field; it often asks those with the least protection to carry the heaviest burden.
National government, provincial government and local government carry different responsibilities and should be judged by different standards.
The argument that the ANC remains the most viable national governing movement does not mean it should automatically govern every municipality or province. The national government is responsible for constitutional order, macroeconomic direction, foreign affairs, national security and the broad developmental path of the Republic.
Local government asks a different question: who can deliver water, sanitation, roads, refuse collection, housing administration, local economic development and responsive public services?
Voters should therefore be encouraged to think carefully about the needs of their own municipal regions. A coastal city, a mining town, a rural district, a farming community and a metropolitan municipality do not face identical challenges. Local elections should not be treated merely as national loyalty tests. They should be judged against local realities.
This is why South Africa’s reset cannot be reduced to replacing one party logo with another. It requires a more honest distinction. The ANC’s greatest weakness has not been its liberation history. It has been its failure to consistently elevate capable, ethical and imaginative leaders into government who have political will, which, to me, on a basic level, also means they must care about the plights faced by people.
Too often, political loyalty has outweighed competence. Too often, public office has become a reward rather than a responsibility.
Every generation inherits history, but no generation can govern exclusively through it. Apartheid explains much about South Africa’s present, but it cannot become the only language through which we imagine our future.
National leadership must possess the intellectual curiosity and technical competence to prepare the country for an era defined by AI, advanced manufacturing, biotechnology, climate adaptation and new forms of global competition.
South Africa’s reset still begins with the ANC. Whether it succeeds will depend on whether the ANC is prepared to actually reset in tangible ways.
• Phakela is a public relations manager and writes in her personal capacity.
