Liberators in Dire Need of Political, Moral Cleansing

Zamikhaya Maseti

The ruling African National Congress convened a landmark Liberation Movements Summit from 25 to 27 July 2025, gathering six Southern African liberation parties including MPLA (Angola), SWAPO (Namibia), FRELIMO (Mozambique), ZANU PF (Zimbabwe), and CCM (Tanzania) to deliberate on the theme: “Defending the Liberation Gains, Advancing Integrated SocioEconomic Development, Strengthening Solidarity for a Better Africa.”

Conspicuously absent, however, was Zambia’s United National Independence Party (UNIP), the liberation movement led by the late President Kenneth Kaunda. This party offered refuge to the exiled leadership of the African National Congress and embraced thousands of young South Africans who crossed borders to join the national liberation struggle against apartheid.

The ANC, as a liberation movement, had its headquarters in Lusaka under the protection of UNIP, and the Zambian people sustained its operational lifeline. The organisers of the summit have not explained this omission, and it stands as a glaring historical oversight in any attempt to reconstruct the liberation narrative of Southern Africa.

Any honest retelling of Southern Africa’s liberation history is incomplete without recognising Zambia’s indispensable role, under the leadership of the United National Independence Party (UNIP) and President Kenneth Kaunda. While not always armed with material abundance, Zambia carried the weight of regional liberation with unmatched moral clarity and unwavering solidarity. Lusaka was not just a geographical refuge for exiles; it was the beating heart of a pan-African revolutionary conscience, hosting the ANC’s headquarters, training camps, political schools, and underground logistics.

The Zambian people paid a heavy price, including economic sabotage, border raids by the apartheid regime, and relentless pressure from the West. Yet Kaunda’s government never wavered. It chose principle over profit, and African unity over diplomatic convenience. That such a pivotal liberation movement was absent from this summit should not be taken lightly; it reflects a growing trend of selective memory that must be confronted if we are to truly reclaim and revitalise the liberation legacy.

The summit made several significant resolutions. It reaffirmed support for the liberation of Western Sahara, condemned all forms of foreign domination and neocolonial interference, and called for deeper ideological and practical cooperation between liberation movements. The parties committed to revitalising South–South solidarity, advancing youth mobilisation and political education, and accelerating regional economic integration through shared development frameworks.

In addition, the summit called for party-to-party diplomacy beyond state platforms, recognising the strategic value of liberation movements coordinating across borders to influence global governance, trade, and peace agendas. These resolutions, if translated into action, could mark a turning point, shifting these movements from commemorators of the past to architects of the African future.

This was not a nostalgic gathering of revolutionaries trading memories over aged slogans. It was a solemn reaffirmation of purpose, a strategic recalibration of the post-colonial project amidst a volatile global order. What emerged was clear: the legacy of liberation is not a finished chapter; it is an unfinished struggle, and those who led us into freedom must now lead us into transformation.

The liberation movements in the Southern African region have not been able to dogwatch one another, to speak frankly, honestly, and without diplomatic pretence. At no point did SWAPO, FRELIMO, CCM, or MPLA rise with principled courage to say, for instance, to President Robert Mugabe, how you are governing Zimbabwe is unjust and unsustainable. 

The ANC, however, attempted what it called quiet diplomacy in Zimbabwe, urging the Zimbabwean leadership and people to resolve their problems internally and to avoid relying on externally imposed solutions. Unfortunately, that quiet diplomacy did not yield the desired results. The suppression of opposition parties and the stifling of democratic space persisted. This absence of honest, fraternal correction among liberation movements has weakened the moral centre of the liberation tradition itself.

One hopes that this revived Party-to-Party diplomacy will correct that historical failure. It must not be reduced to celebratory declarations and performative solidarity. It must have political dog watching as a central tenet, a principled, fraternal mechanism through which liberation movements hold one another to the revolutionary values they once embodied: honesty, people-centred governance, democratic integrity, and moral courage. Not loyalty to incumbency, but loyalty to the people.

The liberation movements must be brave enough to confront the objective reality of the evaporation of the liberation heritage. The fact of the matter is that across the African continent, the very parties that ushered in political freedom, that dismantled colonial rule, and held the dreams of the masses, are no longer the governing parties.

In Ghana, the Convention People’s Party (CPP) of Kwame Nkrumah, the first to proclaim African independence, has faded into political obscurity. In Zambia, UNIP, once the bastion of Southern African solidarity under Kenneth Kaunda, has been swept aside. In Kenya, KANU (Kenya African National Union), the liberation party of Jomo Kenyatta, has long ceded power.

Here at home, the ANC of Nelson Mandela, once the symbol of global moral authority, has been partially dislodged from power. It now governs in coalition with its ideological and historical adversaries, a profound moment that should signal not a tactical adjustment, but a generational reckoning.

The liberation movement, as we know it, stands at a precipice. The question these Parties must collectively ask is not cosmetic or electoral, it is existential: Why has this occurred? Why have the liberation movements, once cherished as the custodians of the people’s hopes, been relegated to electoral decline, coalition compromise, and in some cases, outright irrelevance?

And more importantly, what should be their collective response to this objective reality of downward swings, fractured mandates, and the political displacement of liberation itself? This is no longer a theoretical concern. It is an urgent summons for introspection, ideological recalibration, and coordinated strategic renewal across the continent.

If the liberation movements are to carry forward the resolutions of this summit with any measure of seriousness and strategic intent, they must individually and collectively undergo a process of political, ideological, and moral cleansing, which the ANC here at home rightly refers to as the renewal process. This is not a public relations exercise. It is a foundational act of survival.

Without this internal reckoning, they will be incapable of confronting and defeating the evolving architecture of Neo-Colonialism and its local variant, Neo-Apartheid, which reproduces exclusion under new masks. If this renewal does not occur, then their electoral fortunes will continue to decline, and not just episodically, but permanently and without abatement. Liberation will fade into memory, and the people will seek new vessels for their hopes. The time for nostalgia is over. The time for renewal is now.

* Zamikhaya Maseti is a Political Economy Analyst and holds a Magister Philosophiae (M.Phil.) in South African Politics and Political Economy from the University of Port Elizabeth (UPE), now Nelson Mandela University.

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL, Independent Media or The African.