The passing of the great Kenyan writer and former political prisoner Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o reminds us of the kind of political and moral clarity offered by the best of our intellectuals. At home, a number of our public intellectuals have drawn comparisons between Jacob Zuma and Ngũgĩ’s Big Ben Mambo — the grotesque autocrat obsessed with grandeur, sycophancy, and delusions of eternal rule in his final novel, The Wizard of the Crow.
Zuma’s MK party was never a principled political formation. It was always an alliance of opportunists — many already disgraced — conspiracy theorists, ethnic nationalists, and a range of figures with authoritarian leanings, many with records of corruption, all gathered around Zuma’s personality cult. It has never held an internal election.
From the outset, the party’s authoritarian instincts were clear. On many social issues, it has adopted positions that are unmistakably far right — a politics of patriarchal authority, cultural conservatism, and scapegoating dressed up in nationalist rhetoric. Its broader danger lies in how it has helped normalise a kind of politics that is anti-democratic, anti-intellectual, given to conspiracy theory, and often hostile to the most basic progressive values and the rights that protect them.
We can take some relief, then, in the fact that MK is now in a state of rapid and escalating collapse. It has always been wracked with internal conflict, and this is now worsening.
First came the public fallout — rumoured to have ended in fisticuffs — between the impeached former judge John Hlophe and Zuma’s long-time toady, Mzwanele Manyi. Then came the news that both Manyi and Floyd Shivambu had been removed from the party’s leadership.
It was always going to end this way.
Zuma presents himself as a radical nationalist, a man of the people — but this is pure and cynical theatre. He is no Amílcar Cabral or Thomas Sankara. His actual record in office tells a very different story.
The staggering scale of looting, the destruction and personal capture of institutions, and the political assassinations and massacre of striking miners that marked his presidency bear far greater resemblance to the kleptocratic authoritarianism of Mobutu Sese Seko than to any genuine emancipatory project.
Like Donald Trump, Zuma’s appeal lies in his ability to present himself as an anti-establishment figure while serving entrenched interests. Both weaponise nostalgia and grievance, thrive on chaos, and portray democratic institutions as obstacles to 'the will of the people'
Zuma’s nationalism was always a mask for elite accumulation and patronage, not a vehicle for people’s power. That kind of project needs constant access to money to keep its collection of opportunists satiated. But without power to distribute or state institutions to capture, the party’s internal rivalries are exploding. We are witnessing a personality cult in collapse.
South Africans are deeply disillusioned — and for good reason. The ANC has squandered its historic mandate. Unemployment, poverty, inequality and violent crime remain among the highest in the world. Local government is often a disaster, and major cities — including Johannesburg — are in collapse.
In parts of KwaZulu-Natal and the Eastern Cape, violence has become entrenched in local politics, with political assassinations now a persistent feature of municipal contests. Ward councillors are routinely threatened or killed, and governance is frequently held hostage by local mafias. The collapse of municipal institutions is not only about mismanagement; it is about the erosion of state authority in the face of armed and organised interests. These are the conditions under which authoritarian populism can flourish.
In KwaZulu-Natal, so-called “business forums” operating as extortion rackets have further blurred the line between politics, patronage and organised crime. These networks, often operating with political protection, have become embedded in local governance. The convergence of political and criminal power is a clear warning sign of systemic decay.
Like Donald Trump, Zuma’s appeal lies in his ability to present himself as an anti-establishment figure while serving entrenched interests. Both weaponise nostalgia and grievance, thrive on chaos, and portray democratic institutions as obstacles to “the will of the people”. Their style of leadership cultivates distrust in the media, civil society, and the judiciary — and they both use this distrust to insulate themselves from accountability. This political style corrodes public life and drives society further into polarisation and cynicism.
As the ANC weakens, political space is opening — but it can be filled either by democratic renewal or reactionary forces. Xenophobic populist parties like the Patriotic Alliance and ActionSA are already jostling for space on the right. This is a very dangerous moment, and there is no guarantee that the centre will hold.
One of the tragedies of our time is the narrowing of political imagination. Decades of misrule have led many to believe that all politics is corruption by another name. The collapse of public trust has created fertile ground for charlatans and demagogues. Rebuilding begins with reclaiming the idea that politics can serve dignity, justice, and collective flourishing.
What we need is a genuinely progressive alternative — one that can offer clear political direction, rooted in the everyday struggles of the people, and guided by values of justice, democracy, and dignity. The South African Communist Party has committed to contest next year’s local government elections, but it has not come remotely close to developing and sharing a compelling political language or vision that resonates with the broader public. It seems likely to follow the Workers and Socialist Party and the Socialist Revolutionary Workers’ Party into electoral failure.
The trade union movement does not provide a ready alternative. Some unions are mired in internal gangsterism, others remain slavishly loyal to the ANC, and at least two prominent union figures appear to be captured by donor funding.
Abahlali baseMjondolo continues to grow and has shown principled and courageous leadership in impossible conditions, but it has never developed a strategy to build an electoral vehicle. The political vacuum on the left remains.
Progressive renewal will require more than good policy ideas. It will demand the rebuilding of democratic organisation from the ground up, rooted in communities and accountable to them. It will need to inspire hope, offer a sense of collective purpose, and reclaim the very idea of politics from the theatre of opportunism and deceit.
There is much to learn from the successes of the left in Latin America.
Buccus research fellow at ASRI and at UFS
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