Guardians or Gatekeepers: The Battle for the Heart and Soul of the National Dialogue

Clyde N.S. Ramalaine

The recent withdrawal of seven prominent South African legacy foundations from the much-publicised National Dialogue has sparked surprise. Their exit highlights not only logistical and financial issues but also deeper concerns about the dialogue’s integrity, inclusivity, and moral authority. Yet, I will suggest that we consider six challenges to understand their withdrawal.  

The foundations, the Thabo Mbeki Foundation, FW de Klerk Foundation, Desmond and Leah Tutu Legacy Foundation, Ahmed Kathrada Foundation, Steve Biko Foundation, Chief Albert Luthuli Foundation, and Oliver and Adelaide Tambo Foundation, argue that the initiative shifted toward government control, undermining its independence and credibility.

The idea of a National Dialogue dates back to the Mbeki era, advocated by the late Essop Pahad, who suggested that established foundations lead it. I critiqued this, questioning the legitimacy of these foundations as true representatives of the broader public.

The legacy foundations criticised rushed planning and lack of financial transparency, warning the dialogue risked becoming superficial. They supported inclusive dialogue but called for a postponement beyond the planned August 15 date. Mbeki stated: “The rushed timeline, constrained logistics, and limited design mean the proposed convention no longer offers a meaningful platform.”

An insider revealed that a foundation complained to Ramaphosa about delayed funding, leading to limited logistical support. Yet, no approved budget and last-minute funds hindered preparation and raised Public Finance Management Act compliance concerns. Ramaphosa later confirmed the budget but offered little transparency on procurement.

Withdrawal threats may signal dissatisfaction while keeping dialogue open, but actual withdrawal breaks trust, forfeiting influence, and questioning legitimacy.

These foundations are often cast as custodians of South Africa’s democratic legacy. Their withdrawal highlights fragile moral authority and raises a critical question: do they serve the public interest or their institutional survival? Despite their historical prestige, they represent a narrow, elite constituency disconnected from ordinary South Africans. They act more as custodians of political symbolism than authentic civil society voices, monopolising dialogue under the guise of legacy.

What moral framework justified endorsing a Ramaphosa-led initiative? Did they assume Mbeki’s association guaranteed control over themes, processes, and budgets? This suggests either a grave misjudgment or a prioritisation of institutional preservation over genuine national needs.

Six Challenges with the Legacy Foundations’ Behaviour and Attitude

1. Appropriation of Civil Society

Legacy foundations, sustained by elite networks and political legacies, claim to represent civil society yet exclude the grassroots organisations, unions, faith groups, and advocacy bodies that truly comprise it. This false equivalence narrows dialogue, silences diverse voices, and entrenches elite control over narratives.

Civil society is inherently pluralistic, operating independently of state or elite interests to serve the public good. By positioning themselves as proxies, these foundations concentrate the national conversation within an exclusive circle, projecting the image of speaking for the masses while reflecting elite interests. What should be an open, citizen-led process becomes a managed exercise legitimising elite consensus, distorting public debate, and implying that an authentic public voice must pass through privileged channels.

2. Mbeki as Central Character

Thabo Mbeki links the National Dialogue to his political legacy, wielding significant influence over its direction, especially amid President Ramaphosa’s vulnerability. This positioning, while reinforcing his relevance, risks overshadowing inclusive dialogue and reflects a narrower view of “civil society” that prioritises elite interests.

Mbeki’s continued involvement extends his political influence years after leaving office, suggesting both a desire to shape the national historical narrative and to reassert relevance. Yet this outsized role threatens to eclipse the diverse voices essential for genuine, transformative national healing.

3. Contest for Resources

Another pivotal issue concerns budget and financial control. Initially, the legacy foundations proposed a budget of R853 million, which President Ramaphosa later reduced to R452 million. This budget assumed that the foundations would also participate in fundraising, raising significant questions around accountability and transparency in managing these funds.

Given the foundations’ elite connections and their distance from grassroots constituencies, concerns arise about potential conflicts of interest and a lack of proper oversight. Critical questions remain unanswered: Who exactly finances the dialogue? Will the identities of funders be publicly disclosed or kept confidential? What expectations do these contributors have for influence or returns? Without transparent frameworks ensuring public scrutiny and equitable resource allocation, accountability becomes uncertain.

Legacy foundations frequently act more as custodians of political legacy brands than as vehicles of civic empowerment. They leverage symbolic capital to maintain influence over resources and narratives.

4. Erosion of Relevance and Generational Disconnect

Anchored in 1990s transition-era symbolism, these foundations struggle to resonate with younger generations focused on inequality, unemployment, and corruption. Withdrawal may be as much about avoiding association with a discredited process as it is about procedural concerns.

Their absence in the discourse on land ownership, yet their claim to speak for the disenfranchised, further reveals dissonance. Their rhetoric, steeped in liberation-era iconography, increasingly fails to connect with younger generations who confront contemporary challenges rather than apartheid’s dismantling.

This disconnect fosters what can be described as a generational legitimacy decay, whereby the symbolic authority these foundations once commanded, derived largely from historic struggles and lived experience, diminishes as the lived realities and priorities of newer cohorts diverge sharply.

5. Entitlement and Paternalism

These institutions imply that without their guidance, the masses cannot shape the future. Such paternalism denies the poor’s intellectual autonomy and silences authentic grassroots voices under the guise of stewardship.

This stance diminishes ordinary citizens’ agency, casting them as passive recipients rather than active agents of change. Their withdrawal sends a clear message: the dialogue cannot succeed without their involvement. Their relevance depends on sustaining the myth that the future must follow the blueprint of the past.

In effect, these institutions claim a mandate to speak on behalf of communities they presume incapable of articulating their own experiences and aspirations, thereby silencing authentic voices and perpetuating structural disempowerment under the guise of benevolent stewardship.

6. Aristocratic Claims and Elite Dominance

Drawing on Gramsci’s concept of cultural hegemony, these foundations operate as a political aristocracy, guarding ideological dominance and symbolic capital. Their withdrawal helps preserve elite status while sidelining ordinary South Africans.

By portraying themselves as custodians of South Africa’s liberation legacy, they cultivate a form of symbolic nobility, distancing themselves from the broader populace. This echoes Pierre Bourdieu’s notion of symbolic capital, where prestige and historical legacy confer power, and Max Weber’s concept of traditional authority, wherein legitimacy derives from established status rather than democratic mandate.

Their role can be described as a “political aristocracy,” where a minority claims exclusive influence, marginalising the majority while advocating the mandate to speak on behalf of the masses.

Reclaiming Dialogue Through Grassroots Empowerment

To overcome these challenges, South Africa needs dialogue models that centre historically marginalised voices. True engagement requires decentralised, community-based forums free from elite mediation. Citizen assemblies, deliberative polling, and consultative councils can link local voices to national policy-making.

Such a shift demands political will to cede control and dismantle the monopoly of legacy foundations over national narratives. Only then can South Africa forge an authentic consensus, rebuild trust, and foster a democracy reflecting the aspirations of all its people.

The legacy foundations’ withdrawal reveals entrenched elitism, self-preservation, and a disconnect from grassroots realities. For South Africa to move beyond symbolic gestures, it must embrace participatory, justice-centred dialogue—one led by its people, not political relics or their branded institutions.

* Clyde N.S. Ramalaine is a theologian, political analyst, lifelong social and economic justice activist, published author, poet, and freelance writer.

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