The red beret and EFF leader Julius Malema reflect the image of the party. Photo: File
Not so long ago, a party T-shirt was enough to spark fierce loyalty. Green, blue or red — these were not just colours on fabric, they were identity, heritage and pride. In the streets of Soweto, an ANC T-shirt once commanded respect; in Cape Town, the Democratic Alliance’s (DA’s) blue carried an air of change; in rural Limpopo, the Economic Freedom Fighters’ (EFF’s) red beret signalled fiery defiance.
For decades, logos, colour schemes and slogans were the sacred trinity of political branding. They conveyed promise, history and belonging — they were shortcuts for trust. But today, that trinity no longer guarantees allegiance. Instead it is the voice, personality and perceived authenticity of the leader — broadcast through TikTok reels and X soundbites — that captivates the electorate.
This shift signals what I call the “unbranding” of political parties: the steady erosion of the traditional power once held by logos, slogans and historic party symbols. The veneer of the logo is cracking, the slogan fading into empty noise, and what emerges is not new symbols but the raw, unmediated power of personality. Politics is moving from institutions to individuals, from heritage to charisma.
This is not a mere shift in strategy, it is the fundamental rapture in how citizens relate to power. In the old model, a party’s brand was built on a covenant of promises kept: liberation, service delivery, constitutionalism or economic freedom. The party brand was bigger than any single leader. That covenant has collapsed. The power of established political brands is waning, and the individual personality is becoming the new locus of political power. We are no longer voting for a manifesto, we are subscribing to a character.
The ANC, once the gold standard of political branding, illustrates this collapse. For decades, its logos and slogans evoked moral authority. Voting ANC meant buying into the promise of “A Better Life for All”. Today, that promise rings hollow in municipalities where sewage runs through the streets and communities are traumatised by crime.
Decades of struggle-era brand equity have been systematically liquidated to cover the costs of corruption and incompetence. The brand promise has been so badly violated that the logo has become a marker of betrayal.
This collapse has forced members and supporters to make a choice: abandon the party or cling to the hope offered by a powerful personality in the party — a Ramaphosa, a Mbalula or a regional stalwart — further fragmenting the once-monolithic brand.
The DA’s struggle is a masterclass in brand confusion. Its journey from “Fight Back” to “One South Africa for All” reflects an existential crisis. The party is struggling to unify its message and identity. By cycling through various branding efforts, it has failed to shed its reputation as a party “for some, not all”.
This tension was stark in 2019, when its ambiguous stance on race-based redress alienated both progressive black voters and conservative white supporters. Leadership changes — from Helen Zille to Mmusi Maimane and now John Steenhuisen — have further muddied the waters. Each leader embodied a different vision, leaving voters unsure whether the DA is a pragmatic government-in-waiting or a party trapped in contradictions.
The result is the “unbranding” of the DA itself. The institutional entity has weakened, while the personalities of its leaders have become the main drivers of visibility and mobilisation. The DA’s continued relevance rests less on its logos and slogans and more on how effectively its leaders can imprint their personalities on the party’s relevance.
If the old parties show decay of institutional branding, the new political players exemplify a deliberate and potent personality-first rulebook. These movements are not built from top down with a rigid manifesto and then a leader. They are forged around the leader’s persona. Their strategy inverts the traditional model: the party is the platform for the individual, not the other way round.
The EFF demonstrates a masterclass in personal branding. Its red beret is iconic, but its power lies in Julius Malema’s personal brand. His unfiltered rhetoric, viral soundbites and ability to dominate the social media cycle keep the EFF alive.
In truth, the EFF’s brand is inseparable from Malema. His face, voice and tone embody the movement. Strip him away, and the logos and slogans collapse into insignificance. The EFF’s future will rise and fall with its leader.
The emergence of uMkhonto weSizwe (MK) party is another case study in “unbranding”. Its name evokes the ANC’s armed wing, attempting to borrow from liberation nostalgia. Yet, in practice, the party is not about its symbols or slogans but an extension of Jacob Zuma.
What resonates is Zuma’s personal narrative of victimhood and defiance. In Kwazulu-Natal, his image alone is enough to command loyalty.
This “unbranding” presents a stark dichotomy for our democracy. On one hand it can be energising by making democracy more relatable and accessible. Leaders who communicate directly with citizens through social media can bypass party bureaucracies and connect authentically.
On the other hand, the decline of strong party brands risks weakening collective accountability. When politics become centred on personalities, parties can turn into vehicles for individual ambition rather than institutions of lasting vision. This could make political loyalty even more volatile, with voters following personalities from one party to another.
South Africa’s political future will be shaped less by historic symbols and more by the ability of leaders to cultivate authentic, resonant personal brands. For the ANC and DA, the difficult truth is that history is no longer a shield. For the EFF, MK party and others, longevity depends on moving beyond a single personality to build a sustainable institutional identity.
The lesson from the marketplace is clear: people no longer buy the logo; they buy the story and the person behind it. In this age of “unbranding” political survival hinges on a party’s ability to balance its timeless symbols with the authentic personalities that bring them to life — or risk being rendered obsolete by them.
Moshe Kola is a marketing strategist, founder of Movelu Consulting and a branding thought leader focused on commercial, social, and political brands. He writes regularly at www.moveluconsulting.co.za/insights.