When Bantu Holomisa, the UDM leader and Deputy Minister of Defence, told a Gagasi FM caller and host Alex Mthiyane to “go to hell,” it wasn’t merely an impulsive reaction. It highlighted a profound crisis within South African politics, one that reveals more about the state of leadership than his temper.
The conversation was sparked by a caller who articulated a sentiment many South Africans share but rarely voice: why should politicians in their 60s and 70s hold onto their positions while younger individuals struggle with unemployment? Holomisa responded defensively, stating, “That’s nonsense. Mandela was 72 when he became president. Age doesn’t matter; experience counts.” On the surface, he has a point—age alone does not define effective leadership.
However, his reaction serves as a window into the broader issues in South African politics. When older leaders are confronted about their prolonged tenures, they often invoke Mandela’s legacy as a defense, neglecting the fact that Mandela chose to step down after one term, recognizing that leadership is about service rather than entitlement. Those who react defensively about age are not safeguarding wisdom; they are clinging to a relevance that has waned. The challenge in South Africa lies not just with aging politicians, but with those who conflate historical significance with their current worth. A leader who instinctively responds to criticism with “go to hell” reveals a lack of ideas.
The notion of a “Generational Mix” can sound appealing, but in practice, it often means recycling familiar names while superficially including a few younger individuals. True renewal is essential for survival, not just window dressing.
The real arrogance lies not in the insult but in the sense of entitlement. In South Africa, power has turned into a retirement scheme, a comfortable position that one refuses to vacate. Holomisa’s outburst indicates that the caller struck a sensitive chord. There’s a new generation eager to engage, and the established leaders fear being rendered irrelevant. When politicians lash out at constituents, it signals not strength but vulnerability.
Thus, the discussion transcends the simplistic “young vs. old” narrative. The core issue is relevance versus stagnation. Although Mandela was 72, his ideas were vibrant and transformative. In contrast, many current leaders in their 60s and 70s recycle outdated slogans while carrying the weight of ineffective policies. Length of service is often mistaken for a meaningful legacy. Spending decades in Parliament without making a difference is not true leadership; it’s merely occupancy. Holding a position for years without revitalization equates to political squatting.
Youth alone does not guarantee effective leadership; a 30-year-old lacking vision is simply a younger iteration of past failures. South Africa has witnessed “young leaders” who mirror the corruption and arrogance of their predecessors. There’s a standoff between an entrenched generation unwilling to yield and a hesitant youth waiting for a chance rather than seizing it.
Politics should prioritize relevance over age. The fusion of wisdom with innovative thinking is crucial. However, South Africa is struggling because many older leaders equate longevity with ownership, while many younger individuals mistake youth for qualification.
The nation’s decline is not merely a result of aging leaders; it stems from the misconception that extended service equates to progress. A 65+ individual with outdated ideas poses a risk, just as a 30-year-old without vision does. Power should not belong to the old or the young, but to those who are capable. If the capable youth are consistently overlooked, the nation risks stagnation under the old guard.
