Africans are inherently unintelligible and painfully unteachable: The ANC has turned a racist metaphor into reality

Listening to political analyst Aubrey Matshiqi speaking on social media following the 2026 local elections was a painful experience. He confronted uncomfortable truths about Africa and Africans, particularly the extent to which the African National Congress (ANC) has reinforced some of the most humiliating stereotypes historically directed at black people.

For generations, racists claimed that black people could not think independently, govern a modern state or manage a modern economy. These were racist assumptions designed to justify colonial domination and apartheid. Yet, through its failures in government, the ANC has handed ammunition to those who continue to promote such prejudices.

Look across sub-Saharan Africa today, and one cannot help noticing how governance failures in several countries have allowed these old stereotypes to resurface.

When former President Jacob Zuma declared that the ANC would rule forever, he was living in a world of political fantasy.

Black South Africans are perfectly capable of distinguishing between competent administration and the ineptitude, corruption and mismanagement that have characterised much of the ANC's time in government.

They understand the difference between leaders who deliver services and those whose failures leave communities economically and socially vulnerable.

Increasingly, voters are choosing leaders with demonstrable records of competent and reliable service delivery. And why should it be considered wrong for black South Africans to vote for white politicians if those politicians can deliver the services essential to their wellbeing?

Black South Africans cannot continue voting for the ANC merely because it was a liberation movement. Revolutionary credentials alone cannot sustain a government indefinitely.

It has become painfully clear that the ANC was inadequately prepared for the responsibilities of governing an independent, democratic South Africa.

During the liberation struggle, the movement should have been preparing for the practical realities of assuming power. It could have established stronger structures of government in exile, identified capable administrators and developed cadres with the academic qualifications, professional competence and institutional experience necessary to manage a modern state.

Critical questions should have been asked long before independence: Who would run government institutions? Who possessed the expertise to manage the economy? How would political liberation translate into social and economic prosperity for ordinary citizens?

But perhaps this is now water under the bridge.

South Africa has had more than three decades of democratic government, sufficient time to learn from the mistakes of African countries to its north.

Instead of studying those failures and finding ways to avoid them, the ANC appears to have repeated many of them.

The similarities between South Africa's governance problems and those experienced elsewhere on the continent are increasingly difficult to ignore.

Consider the remarks attributed to ANC secretary-general Fikile Mbalula regarding potholes on South African roads. His explanation that climate change and excessive rainfall were responsible for deteriorating roads was astonishingly inadequate.

Such an explanation would hardly be acceptable even from a traditional leader in a remote Malawian village outside Lilongwe.

Then there is Julius Malema, leader of the Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF), who made repeated visits to Harare and appeared determined to learn from Zimbabwe's political establishment.

Malema seemed particularly fascinated by the late former Zimbabwean President Robert Gabriel Mugabe.

He admired Mugabe as a towering African revolutionary, apparently hoping that some of the former president's perceived greatness would rub off on him.

But did Malema fully understand the darker chapters of Mugabe's rule?

Was he sufficiently familiar with the Gukurahundi atrocities in Matabeleland and the Midlands during the 1980s?

Did he understand the historical relationship between the ANC and ZAPU during the liberation struggles?

Either he ignored these historical realities or his understanding of African history was seriously inadequate.

Malema was only a young child when the Gukurahundi atrocities were being perpetrated. Yet his admiration for Mugabe often appeared to leave little room for critical reflection on the suffering inflicted during that period.

One could almost imagine Malema falling to his knees in reverence if someone told him that Mugabe had walked on a particular piece of ground.

Such was the intensity of his political hero-worship.

What exactly did Malema learn from Zimbabwe? Was it economic empowerment, or the political methods that contributed to the country's economic collapse?

The EFF's electoral setbacks should prompt serious reflection about the party's achievements.

Beyond revolutionary slogans, confrontational politics and promises of economic freedom, what has Julius Malema's party actually accomplished?

Kahle kahle, what has the EFF delivered?

South Africa's decline has unfolded before our eyes. What remains unclear is precisely when the deterioration began.

I recently listened to a South African female advocate discussing the negotiations that brought apartheid to an end. She argued that the Afrikaners had demonstrated greater strategic foresight than the ANC leadership, including Nelson Mandela.

Her argument was that white South Africans surrendered political power while retaining substantial control over the economy.

I find her assessment compelling because the economic realities of contemporary South Africa appear to support aspects of that argument.

Black South Africans gained the right to vote and the ability to elect their political representatives. They acquired political power, but meaningful economic ownership has remained concentrated elsewhere.

Much of South Africa's economy is still controlled by established corporate interests, while land ownership continues to reflect deep historical inequalities.

Black South Africans may occupy management positions and hold political office, but this does not necessarily translate into control over the commanding heights of the economy.

South Africa remains deeply integrated into international financial markets, with major corporations and investment interests extending far beyond its borders.

Was this not a stroke of strategic genius by those who negotiated the transition from apartheid?

Political power was transferred to the black majority, while much of the existing economic structure remained intact.

Meanwhile, black politicians have repeatedly become embroiled in corruption scandals, providing further ammunition to those who question their ability to govern.

Former President Jacob Zuma's imprisonment became one of the most dramatic examples of the political and legal crises confronting post-apartheid South Africa.

One might almost imagine that these developments followed an invisible script designed to demonstrate the supposed incompetence of black leadership.

Of course, such an interpretation raises difficult questions about political power, economic control and accountability.

Corruption in South Africa has become deeply entrenched.

The proceedings of the Madlanga Commission have brought disturbing allegations about corruption, criminal networks and interference in law enforcement into public discussion.

President Cyril Ramaphosa's Phala Phala farm scandal has also raised serious questions about transparency and accountability at the highest levels of government.

Although allegations must be distinguished from proven criminal wrongdoing, the political damage caused by such controversies cannot be ignored.

South Africa increasingly resembles other African countries where political liberation has failed to produce the accountable, effective governance that citizens were promised.

What I find particularly disturbing is the apparent absence of sufficient political embarrassment among leaders confronted by repeated scandals.

How does President Ramaphosa comfortably engage with leaders of countries such as China, where corruption can attract extremely severe criminal penalties?

In China, certain serious corruption offences can even carry the death penalty.

Yet South African political life appears increasingly accustomed to allegations involving enormous sums of public money.

The controversy surrounding businessman Hangwani Maumela and the alleged looting of approximately R2 billion from Tembisa Hospital illustrates the scale of the problem.

Reports of his alleged involvement in public procurement have raised further concerns about the relationship between politically connected business interests and government contracts.

These are not minor administrative failures. They represent a profound crisis of public accountability.

One of the few remaining strengths of South African democracy is the credibility of its electoral institutions.

It is remarkable that, despite the country's governance problems, competitive elections continue to produce results that political parties generally accept.

What explains this institutional resilience?

Is it the survival of constitutional safeguards, independent institutions and systems of accountability established during the democratic transition?

Whatever the explanation, South Africa has maintained a stronger tradition of electoral competition than many countries in the region.

Consider Tanzania's disputed 2025 elections, in which President Samia Suluhu Hassan was declared the winner with approximately 98% of the vote.

The result was accompanied by serious allegations of electoral irregularities, repression and violence.

Reports of protesters being killed during the unrest provoked international concern and raised urgent questions about accountability.

When governments can suppress dissent without meaningful consequences, they establish dangerous precedents for other countries.

The message becomes that political power can be maintained through intimidation and violence rather than democratic consent.

South Africans, meanwhile, are beginning to recognise that foreign nationals cannot be blamed for every political and economic problem facing the country.

The Democratic Alliance's electoral successes demonstrate that voters are increasingly prepared to judge political parties on governance and service delivery rather than liberation history or racial identity alone.

Helen Zille's remarks about documented migrants and the importance of extending permits for foreign nationals who contribute to South Africa's economy were particularly significant.

She acknowledged the economic value of migrants whose skills and labour support essential services.

Interestingly, when a white political leader makes such an argument, the public reaction can be markedly different from the hostility often directed at African migrants themselves.

This exposes the contradictions underlying South Africa's recurring waves of xenophobia.

Foreign nationals have too often become convenient scapegoats for unemployment, poverty, crime and failing public services.

Yet the fundamental causes of these problems lie much closer to home: poor governance, corruption, economic inequality and political failure.

Xenophobia is a smokescreen. It diverts attention from the real issues confronting South Africa.

The ANC cannot continue hiding behind its liberation credentials, and African political leaders cannot indefinitely blame colonialism, apartheid or foreign nationals for failures that occur under their own administrations.

Political freedom must eventually translate into competent governance, economic opportunity and meaningful improvements in people's lives.

The tragedy is not that Africans are inherently incapable of governing themselves. It is that too many African leaders have governed so badly that they have given new life to racist stereotypes that should have been buried long ago.

And that, perhaps, is the ANC's most painful legacy.