South Africa’s transition from apartheid to democracy still remains a profound exemplary act of collective political maturity. It was not a mere ritual of formalities but an act of resilience, an acknowledgment that only through dialogue can a diverse people heal the wounds of a brutal, fractured past. To ignore our historical memory would be to ignore the very lessons we should hold dear: dialogue, no matter how imperfect, is the essential first step in healing societal rifts.
Prof Mahmood Mamdani reminds us that to name a crisis and to define a path forward is to decide how to address it. When we treat division as a mere moral battle between good and evil, we ignore the political work that must be done to move a nation forward. He argues that much of the political violence we witness in Africa is rooted in unresolved histories, unspoken injustices and entrenched political structures that inhibit true reconciliation. We cannot allow our country to be defined by consequences of unaddressed grievances, which fester when societal actors — elites and poor alike — are compelled to endure rather than engage.
Consider Rwanda. The tragic genocide in 1994 was a consequence of a state and society that failed to have difficult conversations about its divisions. The continent continues to be plagued by conflicts of similar roots in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Ethiopia, Sudan and South Sudan, and Cameroon.
Europe and the US are not spared the corrosive consequences of divisions left unattended. In the UK, the Brexit referendum exposed the undercurrent of class and regional divides that were ignored for decades. Instead of meaningful dialogue, the political elite offered slogans and sound bites, which paved the way for a divisive, economically harmful referendum. Look at the US, where the failure to discuss diversity and racial inequality honestly continues to tear at their social fabric.
These lessons are a stark reminder to us, that dialogue is not an option — it is an imperative. Societies that fail to engage their differences are doomed to watch them turn into violent ruptures.
Choosing dialogue over moral theatre, negotiation over revolution, conversation over confrontation, is the inheritance passed down to us by those who sat around the Codesa table. To throw it away now would be to forfeit the very essence of what made our democracy unique.
Dialogue, by its very nature, is antithetical to Malema's brand of populism. It demands many voices, not one. It requires compromise, not monologue. It is a space where solutions must be negotiated, not imposed by a singular force of will. Malema knows this, and this is exactly why he decries it.
Enter Julius Malema, whose vocal opposition to the national dialogue as a “grotesque and wasteful” initiative reveals less about the dialogue itself and more about his own political strategy. Malema, like a character in a moral theatre, frames the debate not as one about political solutions but as a dramatic showdown between the good (the EFF, of course) and the evil (the government, the elite, anyone else who isn’t him).
But the real scam here is not the proposed R700m budget for dialogue. Malema stands opposed to any process of true political engagement, one that involves compromise, genuine debate and consensus-building. His real objections to the national dialogue are not about fiscal prudence. They are about keeping his constituency in the comfort of outrage. Malema thrives in an environment of perpetual conflict, where solutions are drowned out by noise and political engagement is replaced by theatrics.
Dialogue, by its very nature, is antithetical to Malema's brand of populism. It demands many voices, not one. It requires compromise, not monologue. It is a space where solutions must be negotiated, not imposed by a singular force of will. Malema knows this, and this is exactly why he decries it. A national dialogue where his voice is just one among many, where he must persuade, negotiate and compromise, is a direct threat to his political monopoly on rage.
It is fair to question the price tag of R700m. However, while at it, let’s not be deluded into thinking that societal healing is cheap. Democracy itself, real democracy, is not cheap. Globally, all institutions that have emerged from conflict — the European Union, the United Nations, the Organisation of African Unity, the precursor to the AU — have all been built upon a foundation of painstaking dialogue. These dialogues did not come free, but the long-term benefits of peace, stability, independence and co-operation far outweighed the costs.
Moreover, South Africa has and is paying a staggering price for economic and political division. What we witnessed in July 2021 was a curtain raiser to lurking just around the corner. The cost of not engaging, not confronting demons and not investing in dialogue is too ghastly to contemplate.
Malema is trying to force us into a choice between two futures — one that embraces the difficult, imperfect and often expensive work of dialogue, and one that continues to cede power to the “political strongman”. A future that embraces conversation, compromise and unity will build a better South Africa — one that confronts its past, engages with its present and builds a collective future. The alternative is a future of endless polarisation, where “strongmen” like Malema and Jacob Zuma continue to profit from division while the rest of the country struggles to move forward.
The national dialogue may not be perfect, but it is the only path forward for a country that has already been scarred by division. If South Africa is to avoid slipping into an abyss, dialogue must be the cornerstone of our nation-building project, not an afterthought or a footnote. The alternative to dialogue is fragmentation, and fragmentation leads only to further bloodshed, economic collapse and the entrenchment of inequality.
The dialogue cannot be a hollow exercise. It must produce tangible solutions to our continued challenges of nation building, land reform, improving public health and universal access to it, the quality of our education and training systems, and effective solutions to building an inclusive economy able to address our youth unemployment crisis. It must create a blueprint for our country that is not just theoretical, but grounded in a concrete, actionable vision and plan that empowers communities and decentralises economic power.
The R700m is a big but small price to pay for the alternative to the kind of future we can all build together. Given enormous and complex challenges facing our country and its people a moment to come together and dialogue about the South Africa we want and indeed the South Africa we certainly do not want is profoundly essential.
*Ntuli is a member of the ANC’s national executive committee and its chief whip in the National Assembly.
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