Civil society movements survive. One is the Amadiba Crisis Committee, which has for years led a community-driven campaign against titanium mining in the Xolobeni area of the Wild Coast, Eastern Cape. Photo: File
What happens when the NGO offices shut down, the donors walk away and the annual reports stop printing? If history and current events are any guide, civil society does not die. It simply changes form.
NGOs have, for decades, been seen as the backbone of civil society, the professional face of activism and the trusted intermediaries between people and policymakers. Their role is important and, in some cases, indispensable. But assuming that their decline would mark the end of collective action underestimates the resilience, adaptability and creativity of people fighting for justice.
Yes, we still need NGOs, perhaps more than ever. But if the era of their dominance is ending, history and the present moment suggest that grassroots movements are more than capable of carrying forward the work of justice.
The future we should aim for is not an either/or scenario. Instead, it should be one in which NGOs and movements strengthen one another, creating a civil society that is more resilient, diverse and locally rooted than before.
It is easy to see why people equate NGOs with civil society. In the post–Cold War era, particularly from the 1990s onward, NGOs became the primary vehicles for delivering development aid, coordinating humanitarian relief and advocating for human rights. Many evolved into sophisticated, professional institutions with global reach.
These organisations have brought structure, resources and credibility to advocacy efforts. They have the capacity to provide legal protections for activists facing repression, maintain institutional memory to preserve hard-won gains and offer training, strategic planning and research that grassroots groups might otherwise lack.
We should not dismiss these contributions. When functioning well, NGOs amplify the voices of marginalised people, connect local struggles to international solidarity networks and help translate street-level demands into durable policy change
Civil society did not begin in the 1970s with the rise of the modern NGO. It stretches back through centuries of informal organising: anti-colonial resistance movements, labour strikes, women’s suffrage campaigns, indigenous land defence and religious social justice efforts.
These movements operated without formal donor funding, without communications teams and often without permanent offices. They survived on commitment, mutual aid and the stubborn will to resist injustice. Their organising structures were often messy and improvised, but they were also flexible, adaptive and hard to dismantle.
Today’s grassroots movements inherit that legacy. They can flourish even when political or funding conditions force NGOs into retreat. In fact, periods of NGO decline often coincide with surges in locally driven activism. Without the constraints of donor priorities or bureaucratic timelines, movements can be bolder and more responsive to urgent crises.
Recent events in Serbia demonstrate this resilience. For nearly eight months, students have led anti-corruption protests following an infrastructure collapse in Novi Sad that killed 16 people. What began as grief and outrage over government negligence has evolved into a national movement demanding accountability, transparency and democratic renewal.
By late June 2025, tens of thousands were marching through Belgrade, issuing an ultimatum to the government: announce snap elections by 28 June or face escalating civil disobedience. These actions are not being coordinated by a large, well-funded NGO apparatus. They are being sustained by student networks, volunteer organisers and citizens’ determination.
Whether they achieve all their demands immediately, these protests are a reminder that the capacity for collective action exists far beyond the NGO sector.
This is not to say that movements can or should replace NGOs entirely. They operate in fundamentally different ways.
Movements excel at mobilising people quickly, shifting the political narrative and applying public pressure. They thrive on urgency, visibility and the moral clarity of lived experience.
NGOs, by contrast, are better equipped for sustained campaigns, behind-the-scenes lobbying and navigating complex legal or policy frameworks. They can hold the line when media attention fades and political will wanes.
When the two work together, they can create a powerful feedback loop. Movements spark change, NGOs institutionalise it, and both stay grounded in the communities they serve. The challenge, and the opportunity, is to bridge the cultural and structural gaps between them.
One of the dangers of seeing NGOs as the sole pillar of civil society is that it blinds us to alternative forms of organising. Governments hostile to dissent often exploit this narrow vision. By restricting NGO funding or tightening registration laws, they can claim to have “neutralised” opposition, even as grassroots resistance continues underground or online.
If we equate civil society with the NGO sector alone, we risk underestimating the resilience of people and overestimating the fragility of social change. The end of a funding cycle is not the end of a movement. The closure of an office is not the closure of a cause.
Critics of NGO decline sometimes point to the potential chaos of decentralised activism. Yet history shows that decentralised movements can be remarkably effective, especially when repression or resource scarcity makes centralisation dangerous.
From the African independence movements of the mid-20th century to the more recent wave of climate strikes and women’s marches, informal networks have repeatedly mobilised at scales that dwarf NGO-led initiatives. Their strength lies in their ability to adapt, evade and persist.
But decentralisation works best when paired with infrastructure. This may include legal aid clinics, documentation centres and training hubs. These can be provided by NGOs, but also by unions, cooperatives and community-based organisations.
Rather than framing the conversation as “NGOs versus movements”, we should envision a civil society that draws on the strengths of both. This means investing in NGOs that are accountable to grassroots constituencies, not just donors. It also means supporting movements with the resources and protections they need to survive government pushback. Finally, it means building shared platforms where institutional knowledge meets street-level innovation.
If the 1990s were the era of the professionalised NGO, perhaps the 2020s will be remembered as the era of the hybrid movement. Locally led but globally connected. Nimble yet strategic. Rooted in community yet capable of operating on the international stage.
The decline of some NGOs is real, and it raises serious problems. But it is not the end of civil society. Far from it. Around the world, from Kenyan youth protesting police brutality to Serbian students demanding democratic accountability, people are finding ways to organise, resist and reimagine the future.
We would be wise to support both the formal institutions that give movements staying power and the informal networks that keep them alive in the first place. Civil society is not a single structure that can be dismantled. It is a living ecosystem. And like any healthy ecosystem, it thrives when its elements are diverse, interconnected and adaptable.
The end of NGOs as we know them may be coming, but the work of justice will continue, carried forward by movements old and new, often side by side.
Sibahle Zuma is a human rights and development practitioner with a focus on civic freedoms, climate activism and youth participation in policy and decision-making.