MKP President Jacob Zuma flanked by his deputies John Hlope (left) and Tony Yengeni at a media briefing in Durban.
Image: Sibonelo Ngcobo/Independent Media
Dr. Reneva Fourie
The Umkhonto We Sizwe Party (MKP) was launched on 16 December 2023. Named after the military wing of the African National Congress and the South African Communist Party, its founding message promised to advance the total liberation of the historically oppressed through electoral means. For many, this message spoke to a long-held yearning for transformation that had been repeatedly deferred.
Many South Africans are experiencing extreme socio-economic strain. Nearly half of the population lives in conditions of chronic poverty, with unemployment levels amongst the highest in the world. Inequality remains structurally entrenched, and corruption scandals have eroded confidence in traditional political institutions.
In this atmosphere of widespread disenchantment, the MKP presented itself as a vessel of hope. In the general election of May 2024, held five months after its formation, the party obtained 4.5 million votes, equivalent to 14.58% of the national vote, making it the official opposition in Parliament outside of the Government of National Unity. In KwaZulu-Natal, it secured 1.5 million votes, accounting for 44.91% of the provincial ballots.
The MKP’s rapid ascent signalled the depth of frustration among the electorate. Yet the euphoria that accompanied its entry into Parliament dissipated almost immediately. Within months, the party that had pledged to champion economic justice descended into chaos. Instead of consolidating its organisational structures and refining its policy vision, those who had once inspired faith in the MKP began to fight among themselves, leaving their supporters bewildered and betrayed.
The most visible indicator of instability has been the extraordinary rate of leadership changes. The position of Secretary General, crucial for maintaining administrative coherence and enforcing discipline, has been particularly affected. The role has changed hands at least seven times since the party’s formation, with figures such as Arthur Zwane, Sihle Ngubane, and Floyd Shivambu each occupying the post for only brief periods.
This turbulence is not an isolated occurrence but part of a broader pattern that includes the positions of Treasurer General and National Chairperson. The revolving door of appointments exposes a failure to establish a durable command structure and the absence of the institutional maturity necessary to sustain itself within a parliamentary system.
The consequences of this internal disarray have extended beyond the party's internal mechanisms, directly impairing its parliamentary functionality. The role of Chief Whip, essential for coordinating the party’s legislative agenda and maintaining discipline among Members of Parliament, has become a tool of factional manipulation. The interplay between Colleen Makhubele and Des Van Rooyen, which culminated in the suspension of MKP Deputy President John Hlope, illustrates the depth of internal discord.
At the community level, the MKP has proven equally ineffective. It has not mounted sustained campaigns to address the pressing challenges of housing, service delivery, or local economic revival. Its offices in impoverished constituencies remain largely inactive, offering neither leadership nor advocacy.
Despite repeated declarations that the party remains united and disciplined, the evidence tells another story. Behind closed doors, mistrust and competition have replaced the rhetoric of collective purpose that had once inspired hope.
The MKP’s troubles reflect something larger about the crisis facing South African politics. Movements that rise on waves of emotion and promise often falter when they reach the hard ground of governance. Without strong institutions and genuine accountability, passion alone cannot sustain a political force. The MKP’s use of revolutionary imagery without the organisational discipline to match it has left it hollow, a symbol of what might have been rather than what is.
Its leadership has also failed to reflect the diversity of the people it claims to represent. Women, who bear the heaviest burdens of poverty and exclusion, remain largely absent from the party’s centres of power. This deprives the party of perspectives essential for addressing the intersectional nature of inequality. This exclusion has reinforced a hierarchical and patriarchal political culture, dispelling the hope that the party would embody a non-racial and non-sexist model of politics.
The MKP’s trajectory also raises questions about the sustainability of political movements that emerge primarily as vehicles of protest. The party’s rapid formation and electoral success were not matched by the gradual development of policy coherence or organisational stability. As a result, once it entered the complex environment of parliamentary politics, it lacked the institutional depth required to withstand internal and external pressures. The succession of resignations and suspensions, the proliferation of legal battles, and the absence of unified leadership have all eroded public confidence.
In the final analysis, the MKP’s experience serves as a cautionary tale about the difficulties of transforming revolutionary fervour into effective governance. The party’s inability to maintain unity or to provide substantive policy direction has turned it into a major disappointment. The hopes of millions who believed that the dawn of a new political force would usher in economic justice have been shattered. Instead of challenging the structural inequalities that continue to define South Africa, the MKP has become a mirror of the dysfunction it sought to overcome.
The consequences of this dysfunction are profound. The MKP’s rise generated hope among millions of South Africans who had grown disillusioned with the established political order. For them, the party represented the possibility of a new beginning, one that could reconcile the ideals of the liberation struggle with the realities of governance. However, instead of advancing action to address unemployment, land redistribution, and poverty alleviation, the MKP has devoted its energies to internal contests for authority. This inward focus has rendered it ineffective as an agent for change.
For the impoverished and disillusioned citizens who placed their faith in the MKP, the disintegration of the party’s promise represents not merely a political setback but a deep emotional wound. It underscores the fragility of hope in a society where liberation remains incomplete. Unless the MKP can develop a moral and organisational compass, its short-lived rise will stand as yet another chapter in the long story of broken promises that have defined South Africa’s democratic era.
* Dr Reneva Fourie is a policy analyst specialising in governance, development, and security.
** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL, Independent Media or The African.