Latest News Archive

Please select Category, Year, and then Month to display items
Previous Archive
13 February 2024 Photo SUPPLIED
Prof Sethulego Matebesi
Prof Sethulego Matebesi is an Associate Professor and Head of the Department of Sociology at the University of the Free State (UFS).

Opinion article by Prof Sethulego Matebesi, Associate Professor and Head of the Department of Sociology, University of the Free State.


President Cyril Ramaphosa’s 2024 State of the Nation Address (SONA) has, as expected, drawn mixed reactions. The speech placed strong emphasis on addressing significant sources of discontent and division within the country, such as gender-based violence, unemployment, crime, load shedding, poor service delivery, and corruption. The speech underscored the President’s commitment to economic reform and job creation through initiatives such as the Presidential Youth Employment Intervention

At a time when South Africa is on the eve of national and provincial elections, where the youth hold immense potential to shape the outcome – if the registrations can translate into voting – it is interesting to note that the President’s approach of using the analogy of young ‘Tintswalo’ has drawn considerable debate.

‘Tintswalo’ and President Ramaphosa’s soft-line approach

While the President’s approach in utilising the positive life trajectory of Tintswalo – a young girl born in democratic South Africa – may have been intended to inspire hope and showcase progress for many since the end of apartheid, critics argue that it overlooks the persistent challenges that many young citizens still face. But is focusing on a single success story providing a misleading impression of the overall state of the nation and downplaying the continuous challenges South Africa faces?

Public opinion can vary, and different individuals and groups may have different perspectives on the nation’s current state. For many, the ANC-led government has created a nurturing environment through various policy interventions, and a system of social transfers geared towards sustainable and productive investment in citizens. This view was supported by the World Bank, which described the country’s policies and programmes for the poor as ‘effective, well-targeted, and providing sizeable benefits to the poorest households.’ 

Indeed, the post-apartheid environment and individual agency enabled today’s Tintswalos to prosper. These deliberate programmes and policy interventions provide an environment that fosters educational attainment, instils values, and encourages personal growth. However, it is important to acknowledge that not all young people have equal access to resources and opportunities.

President Ramaphosa did not appear harsh, but rather dignified in using political persuasion to convince the world of the government’s resolve to strive for equitable access to education, health care, and social services to ensure that all young people have a fair chance to prosper. 

And, of course, relying on political persuasion is not hard. 

The President, an advocate of the soft line approach, has perfected the art of smothering citizens with embraces – smothering that has lately been peppered with the phrase: ‘ba rata kapa ha ba rate (whether they like it or not), we have done well.’ He did not appear harsh each time he uttered this phrase, but dignified in the conviction of the achievements of the government he has been leading since February 2018. However, the effect of the Tintswalo analogy – accentuating the state’s weaknesses rather than obscuring them – is the opposite of what was intended.

The bottom line is that the number of unemployed, politically disengaged, and disgruntled youth is growing, as is their ferocity.

Shrinking fiscal resources and the central role of institutions

As South Africa achieves a significant 30-year milestone of political freedom, the protection of individual freedoms and the establishment of institutions to safeguard democratic values stand as noteworthy achievements. However, amid the celebrations, shrinking fiscal resources and the overarching impact of increasingly reduced budget cuts for the higher education sector will hamper the progress of a new generation of Tintswalos. It has repeatedly been proven that education is an essential pillar of a country’s economy.

In Why nations fail: The origins of power, prosperity and poverty, Acemoglu and Robinson underscore the significance of inclusive economic institutions. They argue that countries differ in their economic success because of their different institutions, the rules influencing how the economy works, and the incentives that motivate people. 

Consider for a moment the difference between teenagers in North and South Korea.

According to these scholars, those in the North grow up in poverty and know that they will not become prosperous due to the propaganda they are fed in school. Those in the South obtain a good education, with incentives encouraging entrepreneurial initiative and creativity.

In South Africa, one of the most disheartening anomalies of our nation’s state is the blatant failure to ensure consequential management for the recurring unauthorised, irregular, fruitless, and wasteful expenditure by municipalities and state institutions reported by the Auditor-General. This is indicative of political power that is exercised arbitrarily.

In steering its future development, a South Africa that embraces diversity, prioritises economic recovery, invests in education, and leverages the incentives provided by state institutions will ensure equitable access to services and opportunities and allow all young people a fair chance to prosper, regardless of political affiliation.

News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

We use cookies to make interactions with our websites and services easy and meaningful. To better understand how they are used, read more about the UFS cookie policy. By continuing to use this site you are giving us your consent to do this.

Accept