By Mzoxolo Mpolase
Fikile Mbalula, the ANC Secretary-General, reportedly going on a yacht trip to Robben Island, has triggered an uproar.
Social media users accuse him of tone-deafness, insensitivity, and elitism, pointing out the painful irony of a leisure cruise to the site where Nelson Mandela and other anti-apartheid icons endured decades of imprisonment. But this incident isn’t an anomaly.
It’s emblematic of something deeper: the ANC’s increasingly fraught relationship with its liberation history and the public it claims to serve.
The Yacht as a Symbol of Disconnect
Robben Island is a symbol of struggle, resistance, and sacrifice. For millions of South Africans, it’s a place that embodies the fight for freedom—a somewhat special or even sacred space.
Yet, Mbalula’s reported jaunt suggests a shift in perspective within the ruling party. What was once a solemn reminder of hardship has, for some, become a backdrop for leisure and indulgence.
This shift is not accidental. It reflects the ruling elite’s evolving priorities and their detachment from the daily realities of ordinary South Africans.
Lavish displays of wealth and power are not outliers in the ANC’s ranks; they are part of a recurring narrative that has increasingly alienated the party from its historic mandate.
A Feature, Not a Bug
Mbalula’s excursion is not just a personal misstep—it’s a feature of the system that the ANC has built over three decades in power. The party, born from the ashes of struggle and sacrifice, now operates within the trappings of privilege.
Leaders frequently engage in conspicuous consumption, sending a clear message: the lines between public service and personal luxury have blurred.
This pattern is reinforced by a political culture where accountability is rare and public outcry seldom leads to meaningful consequences. Mbalula’s yacht trip is a glaring symptom of a broader problem: the normalisation of excess among the country’s political elite.
The Irony of Legacy
What makes this episode particularly poignant is the irony. Robben Island, once a place of suffering and sacrifice, is now seemingly a backdrop for those with means to flaunt their wealth, or at the very least indulge in conspicuous consumption.
Mbalula’s journey there via yacht feels like a stark metaphor for the current state of South African politics: the places and principles that defined the struggle are now opportunities to showcase privilege.
Who could forget the now-infamous words of Smuts Ngonyama, former ANC spokesperson, who unapologetically declared, “I did not join the struggle to be poor”?
Those words have become a stark shorthand for the ANC’s pivot from liberation ethos to conspicuous self-interest, a shift mirrored in Mbalula’s actions.
Indeed, Mbalula’s yacht jaunt isn’t his first tone-deaf display. His shambolic campaigning shortly before the 2024 national and provincial elections was another glaring example.
Arriving in a Mercedes-Benz G-Wagon to campaign in Inanda Township—a community grappling with unemployment, service delivery failures, and crime—showed a staggering disconnect. The campaign, meant to inspire hope and rally support, instead became a symbol of the chasm between the ANC leadership and the very people they are tasked to serve.
While Mbalula, at least on this occasion, did not do so with the public purse—given that it was an ANC-related event and he was there in his capacity as Secretary-General of the ANC, not as a government representative—this is him, this is what he does.
Expensive clothes and accessories, often inappropriate for his age or the occasion, all to show off his “bling”. Recall when he was Minister of Sport and invited Floyd Mayweather to South Africa, not for a fight, not even for an exhibition, but for an equally pointless jaunt.
Mayweather famously admitted he did not know why he was here, while Mbalula cosplayed as some brand-obsessed rapper wannabe, all on the public’s dime.
For a political party that waxes lyrical about “Organisational Renewal,” this could be the first step. While I detest the word and the notion that such a corrupt political party could ever renew itself, this is at least something the party could renew.
But then again, where does one even start? Mbalula at the helm is what every rank-and-file member in the party and the organs of state that they govern do. This behaviour is not an exception—it is the rule.
The Final Verdict
Mbalula’s yacht jaunt has sparked outrage, but outrage alone is not enough. It highlights the need for deeper introspection, both within the ANC and South African society at large. How long can the party rely on its liberation legacy while its actions undermine the very values it purports to uphold?
This incident is not about one man’s tone-deaf decision—it’s a reflection of a broader systemic failure. Until the ANC reckons with the contradictions at its core, episodes like this will continue to surface, each more damaging to its credibility than the last.
