Prince Mashele has been given carte blanche to insult black Africans

Prince Mashele must be told, in no uncertain terms, to stop insulting black Africans. Enough is enough. His remarks should not be ignored because they risk influencing generations of young black Africans, reinforcing feelings of inferiority and perpetuating the psychological damage inflicted by colonialism and apartheid.

Mashele has reportedly credited colonial figures such as Jan Smuts, Jan van Riebeeck and Cecil Rhodes with bringing civilisation to southern Africa. His arguments appear to suggest that white people were responsible for Africa's development and that Nelson Mandela subsequently delivered freedom to South Africa.

Such rhetoric is deeply troubling. It diminishes African dignity and risks perpetuating the very colonial attitudes that generations of liberation fighters struggled to overcome.

We cannot continue tolerating narratives that portray Africans as inherently inferior to the white populations that colonised the continent.

Prince Mashele should not be entrusted with the presidency of South Africa if his political philosophy is rooted in such assumptions.

If he were elected president in 2029, I fear that he and those supporting his political ambitions would transform South Africa into a miniature version of America, with economic power increasingly concentrated in the hands of wealthy corporations and international investors.

Mashele would likely welcome figures such as Elon Musk and other global business elites, encouraging them to return or invest in South Africa.

In exchange, ordinary black South Africans might receive little more than modest two-roomed houses, while the wealthy continued enjoying the privileges of economic ownership.

Meanwhile, President Mashele would probably reside comfortably in the leafy suburbs of Hyde Park or Houghton, far removed from the poverty experienced by millions of black citizens.

Mashele's background makes his political outlook particularly difficult for me to understand.

He was reportedly raised by a single mother who worked as a domestic worker in white households. Such an upbringing should have given him a profound understanding of the dignity of African people and the inequalities created by colonialism and apartheid.

Yet his apparent admiration for the infrastructure and institutions inherited from colonial rule seems to overlook the human suffering and humiliation that accompanied their development.

The dignity of an African cannot be measured merely by roads, buildings, bridges or other physical infrastructure.

What value is an impressive modern city if the people whose ancestors built it remain economically marginalised?

A university education should deepen one's understanding of history, not diminish the importance of African dignity.

I struggle to understand how Mashele can celebrate colonial development without sufficiently acknowledging the destruction of African societies, the dispossession of indigenous communities and the psychological consequences of white domination.

Have we not heard similar arguments repeatedly since South Africa attained democracy in 1994?

For decades, allegations have circulated that former President Nelson Mandela compromised the economic objectives of the liberation struggle by accepting a political settlement that left much of the country's economic power in the hands of established corporate interests.

Winnie Madikizela-Mandela was among those who expressed deep disappointment with aspects of the negotiated transition.

Her criticisms went beyond her personal relationship with Mandela and reflected broader concerns that the political settlement had failed to deliver meaningful economic liberation to the black majority.

The central argument was that political freedom had been achieved without a corresponding transformation of economic ownership.

When Mandela accepted the negotiated settlement, South Africa's corporate establishment had reason to welcome the outcome.

There had been fears that an ANC government might pursue extensive economic redistribution, nationalisation or reparations for the injustices committed under apartheid.

The question of reparations deserves particular attention.

Following the Second World War, Germany entered into compensation arrangements relating to Nazi persecution and the Holocaust. These arrangements demonstrated that historical injustices could become the subject of substantial financial restitution.

Why, then, was South Africa unable to negotiate a similarly comprehensive framework of economic compensation for generations of colonial dispossession and apartheid exploitation?

This question remains central to understanding the unfinished business of South Africa's liberation struggle.

Mandela's early presidency was celebrated across the world. He became an international symbol of reconciliation, forgiveness and moral leadership.

Western governments, corporations and international institutions praised him as one of the greatest statesmen of the modern era.

But I have often wondered whether this extraordinary international admiration also helped discourage more radical demands for economic justice.

Mandela became a global icon, while the economic structures inherited from apartheid remained largely intact.

Was reconciliation achieved at the expense of meaningful economic transformation?

I continue to struggle with the collective thinking of African leaders when decisions affecting the future of the continent are made.

Some commentators have argued that the decisive compromises occurred while Mandela was still in prison, during secret negotiations with representatives of the apartheid government.

Mandela participated in confidential discussions before his release, and those negotiations helped establish the foundations of South Africa's eventual political transition.

There have also been claims that some important decisions were made without sufficient consultation with the ANC's wider leadership.

However, such claims require careful historical examination rather than unquestioning acceptance.

Speculation has even surrounded Mandela's separation from Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, with some suggesting that political and establishment pressures contributed to the breakdown of their marriage.

These allegations remain contested and should not be treated as established historical facts.

Nevertheless, the broader question remains: did South Africa's liberation movement surrender too much economic power during the transition to democracy?

If Mandela's political settlement left the economic revolution incomplete, then Prince Mashele's apparent admiration for established economic interests represents only another chapter in a much longer struggle.

When Mashele criticises black South Africans in language that appears to reinforce colonial prejudices, I cannot help questioning whose interests his political philosophy ultimately serves.

His confidence suggests that he believes he has powerful support behind him.

Yet there is another side to Prince Mashele that cannot simply be dismissed.

He has used the ANC's failures as an opportunity to launch devastating criticism of the governing party.

And, unfortunately for the ANC, many of those criticisms are difficult to dispute.

The liberation movement has failed spectacularly in several areas of governance.

Corruption has reached alarming levels, while allegations of misconduct have extended into institutions responsible for protecting the state itself.

The South African National Defence Force and other security institutions have faced serious questions about corruption, procurement irregularities and accountability.

The scale of the country's governance problems is deeply disturbing.

The Madlanga Commission has brought further allegations of corruption, criminal infiltration and interference within law enforcement structures into public discussion.

Mashele has seized upon these revelations to strengthen his criticism of the ANC.

As allegations involving enormous sums of public money continue to emerge, the governing party finds itself increasingly unable to defend its record convincingly.

Billions of rand have reportedly been lost through corruption, maladministration and questionable public procurement practices over the years.

Such failures provide political ammunition to anyone seeking to challenge the ANC's authority.

Mashele understands this opportunity.

He attacks the party's weaknesses relentlessly while positioning himself as an alternative voice in South African politics.

That is politics!

For more than a decade, Mashele has contributed political commentary to publications including the *Sowetan* and other South African media outlets.

His analysis of governance, democracy and public administration has earned him recognition as a political commentator.

One of his recurring arguments concerns the inadequacy of political appointments based primarily on party loyalty rather than professional competence.

He advocates a stronger role for technocrats in government, arguing that public institutions should be managed by individuals possessing the necessary education, expertise and administrative experience.

On this particular issue, I find considerable merit in his arguments.

Political affiliation alone cannot qualify someone to manage a modern economy, administer public finances or oversee complex government institutions.

A government staffed by individuals lacking the necessary academic and professional qualifications is unlikely to achieve sustainable development.

Mashele's proposals for technocratic governance bear some similarities to ideas advanced by Zimbabwean academic and political analyst Professor Ibbo Mandaza.

Although their approaches differ, both have questioned whether conventional party politics can deliver the institutional reforms required in struggling African states.

Mashele's concerns focus particularly on the qualifications and competence of government officials who have occupied administrative positions since the ANC came to power in 1994.

Running a modern state requires more than revolutionary credentials.

It demands knowledge of economics, public administration, infrastructure management, financial accountability and institutional development.

South Africa's service delivery failures demonstrate what happens when political considerations repeatedly take precedence over professional competence.

The country's development has fallen far short of the expectations of millions of black South Africans who believed democracy would bring meaningful improvements to their living conditions.

If leaders are selected primarily from political party structures without adequate consideration of their education, professional experience and administrative ability, how can effective development be guaranteed?

The failures begin at the point of appointment.

Mashele has therefore questioned the effectiveness of an electoral system that allows political parties to dominate government appointments.

He argues that corruption often begins when political loyalty becomes more important than competence, allowing unsuitable individuals to occupy influential positions in national and local government.

His proposed solution places considerable emphasis on education, professionalism and ethical leadership.

These are essential foundations for any successful modern state.

South Africa must prioritise quality education if future generations are to possess the skills required to rebuild its institutions and economy.

Education should become a national priority rather than another political slogan.

However, Mashele's more radical proposals raise serious questions.

He has advocated, according to accounts of his political arguments, a temporary suspension of conventional electoral politics to allow a technocratic administration to govern for approximately 15 years.

Under such an arrangement, political appointments would be replaced by a system emphasising professional competence, economic expertise and administrative efficiency.

The proposed transformation would begin with the presidency and extend throughout government institutions.

Leaders would be expected to demonstrate technical competence, ethical conduct, sound economic understanding and the ability to think beyond narrow party interests.

They would also need to understand South Africa's complex social structure and develop policies capable of integrating the country into the global economy.

Mashele has argued for leadership that recognises the interests of all South Africans, regardless of race, ethnicity or political affiliation.

South Africa belongs to everyone who lives in it, black and white.

This principle is difficult to dispute.

A successful government must unite communities rather than deepen divisions.

It must recognise the country's diversity while ensuring that political and economic opportunities are distributed fairly.

If properly implemented within a democratic and accountable framework, aspects of technocratic governance could offer valuable lessons for other African countries.

Nevertheless, the proposal to suspend Parliament or elections for 15 years is deeply contentious.

Professor Mandaza's proposed National Transitional Authority for Zimbabwe has generally envisaged a considerably shorter transitional period of approximately three to five years.

The timeframes differ, but both approaches reflect dissatisfaction with the failures of conventional political systems.

The underlying objective is institutional reform.

Africa urgently needs governments capable of delivering services, managing resources responsibly and creating opportunities for their citizens.

But any proposed political reset must also confront a fundamental question: can a government claim legitimacy if citizens are denied the right to choose or remove their leaders?

Technocratic competence should strengthen democracy, not become an excuse for abandoning it.

Prince Mashele's proposals cannot be ignored simply because some of his political statements are offensive.

His emphasis on education, professional competence and ethical administration deserves serious consideration.

On social media, he has discussed political ideas that suggest an ambition to establish a movement or political party ahead of South Africa's next national elections, expected in 2029.

However, these proposals would need to be formally documented and subjected to public scrutiny before their practical implications could be properly assessed.

Mashele has also expressed support for attracting investment from wealthy South Africans and international business interests.

Figures such as Elon Musk are often mentioned in discussions about the potential role of major investors in South Africa's economic development.

Foreign direct investment can undoubtedly create employment, expand industries and stimulate economic growth.

But investment alone cannot guarantee economic liberation.

Who will own the businesses?

Who will control the profits?

Will black South Africans become genuine participants in the economy, or will they remain employees and consumers while ownership continues to be concentrated elsewhere?

These are the questions that any serious economic reform programme must answer.

There is a danger that Mashele's proposed economic model could reproduce the very inequalities that have persisted since the end of apartheid.

If political reform merely creates a more efficient administration serving established corporate interests, what will ordinary black South Africans have gained?

The liberation struggle was not fought so that African citizens could remain permanently dependent on the goodwill of wealthy investors.

It was fought for dignity, equality, opportunity and meaningful control over their own economic future.

There is also an apparent contradiction between Mashele's criticism of conventional party politics and any ambition to establish his own political party.

If political parties are inherently responsible for corruption and administrative incompetence, why would creating another political party provide the solution?

Would his movement avoid the same practices of political campaigning, patronage and promises that he condemns in others?

Would distributing party T-shirts and mobilising voters suddenly become acceptable simply because the campaign was conducted under his leadership?

These contradictions deserve explanation.

Otherwise, his proposed technocratic revolution risks becoming another political project built around the ambitions of an individual.

African youths cannot remain perpetual collectors of firewood and water while privileged economic elites enjoy the benefits of modern development.

The continent needs transformation that places African dignity and economic participation at its centre.

Despite my serious reservations about Prince Mashele's political philosophy, I am prepared to acknowledge that some of his proposals contain valuable ideas.

A government built around competence, integrity, education and professional administration could help South Africa overcome many of its current challenges.

If Mashele eventually establishes a political movement and succeeds in winning the 2029 elections, he will have an opportunity to demonstrate whether his ideas can produce meaningful results.

But any attempt to suspend democratic elections for 15 years would require the strongest possible scrutiny.

South Africa cannot afford to exchange one form of political failure for another system that concentrates power without sufficient accountability.

A successful technocratic administration, operating within constitutional and democratic safeguards, could become a model for other African countries.

Such an achievement would mark a significant turning point in the continent's political development.

Perhaps, after all, Prince Mashele's ideas are not entirely without merit.

But he must first understand that African dignity is not negotiable.

No amount of infrastructure, foreign investment or technical expertise can justify language that humiliates black Africans or diminishes their historical struggles.

Africa needs competent leadership, but it also needs leaders who respect the people they seek to govern.

That is where Prince Mashele must begin.