KwaZulu-Natal police commissioner Lieutenant-General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi. (@SAPoliceService/X)
he essence of politics lies in the conquest of hearts and minds, achieved by whatever means prove necessary. While numerous strategies exist to accomplish this, one particularly intriguing tactic is the notion of political martyrdom.
This is the deliberate projection of ethics, sacrifice and altruism, even at the expense of one’s own self-preservation, to sway public sentiment so profoundly that it compels audiences to overlook even the most dubious subtexts beneath such displays.
Let me preface this by stating unequivocally that I do not, in any way, accuse the KwaZulu-Natal police commissioner of employing such a strategy. It may well be that his seismic revelations of corruption were motivated solely by an unwavering devotion to this nation and its people. But, what must be plainly understood in politics is the old axiom: where there is smoke, there is fire. One cannot simply disregard the events that unfolded during Mkhwanazi’s press conference, nor those that followed in its wake.
Let us examine some of the signs that warrant scrutiny. The press conference, in retrospect, employed symbolic imagery reminiscent of a classic coup d’état. For reasons unknown to the public, Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi appeared in paramilitary attire, flanked by fellow officers similarly dressed, with some conspicuously masked in balaclavas.
Beyond the seismic corruption revelations he delivered, the subtext of his message was unmistakable: the state, including both the executive and the judiciary, could not be trusted.
While Chief Justice Mandisa Maya issued a forceful rebuke of Mkhwanazi’s claims, the executive’s leader, President Cyril Ramaphosa, adopted a weaker response — authorising a commission of inquiry and suspending the implicated police minister, Senzo Mchunu. Ramaphosa’s reaction served to reinforce, at least in the public eye, Mkhwanazi’s underlying narrative: that the state is inherently untrustworthy.
Consequently, we have witnessed crowds mobilising in Johannesburg and Durban under the slogan “Hands Off Mkhwanazi” (a classic hallmark of martyrdom politics) rallying behind the narrative of institutional distrust.
This phenomenon is unprecedented in South Africa; even during the Zuma era, protests were directed at the man himself (“Zuma Must Fall”), not the state as an entity.
What distinguishes Mkhwanazi’s movement is its implicit assertion that the system itself is diseased and must be dismantled. That, to my mind, is the perilous blaze beneath the smoke, one we would do well to observe with vigilance.
As committed democrats and South African patriots, we must subject Mkhwanazi’s narrative to rigorous scrutiny. While none can deny the pervasiveness of corruption within certain state institutions, it would be intellectually dishonest to assert our entire state system has collapsed beneath its burden.
Consider the judiciary, which steadfastly remains resilient. Civil society endures as a necessary watchdog, unearthing graft and malfeasance. The rule of law, though tested, persists, compelling even the most wayward politicians and business actors to tread cautiously, as though haunted by its spectre.
Our democracy stands intact; the imperative is not demolition, but course-correction — reforming the state to perfect our system, not destroy it.
We must guard vigilantly against justifying necessary reforms through narratives of total state collapse. In a nation already exhibiting troubling symptoms of mass discontent — with security vacuums, widespread disillusionment and entrenched deprivation — this rhetoric risks becoming the very kindling for violent insurrection. Is this truly our desired outcome?
I submit this question for sober reflection.
Siseko Maposa is the director of Surgetower Associates Management Consultancy. The views expressed are his own opinion.