ANGER stalks the world and seems evenly spread among the generations, although particularly prevalent among men as the crisis of masculinity grows. One would expect in this situation, whatever its genesis, that young charismatic leaders would emerge to herald a time of change. Yet in the United States and South Africa the two dominant figures are decrepit old men with nothing to offer their societies but the status quo boosted by authoritarianism: Donald Trump and Jacob Zuma. Perceptive observers are increasingly noting the similarities. They seem to inhabit an echo chamber: on 8 December Zuma revived ludicrous claims that the general election was stolen and that his party won not 45% of the KwaZulu-Natal vote, but 66%. Sound familiar? 

Apart from their shared, basic contempt for women both reduce politics to theatre. This is one of the dangers of our age. People are disengaging their brains and looking for entertainment rather than reasoned argument. Trump and Zuma on public platforms are much the same, offering unhinged outpourings of conspiracy, lies, taunts and invective. Trump has developed a sort of dance that sports teams are apparently copying, although that does nothing to match Zuma’s call for his machine [gun] surrounded by goons in shades, berets and battle fatigues. If this reminds you of Burkina Faso or the Central African Republic there may be a connection called Russia.

The worldwide trend towards right-wing populism is indisputable and it is no stranger to South Africa, although here it tends to be wilfully mislabelled as the politics of the left. Mid-December marks the first anniversary of the uMkhonto we Sizwe Party (MK), a split from the ANC with the expelled Zuma as its icon and puppet master. Events in Durban are going to be fascinating. How MKP got off the ground is something of a mystery, but what is certain is that its apparent originators have been given the boot by Zuma in favour of the scrapings of South African public life. It’s a process akin to Trump’s Cabinet choices and has included a disgraced and impeached judge and public protector, a politician linked to the looting of a mutual bank, innumerable fraudsters and racketeers named by the Zondo Commission, a number of proven insurrectionists from mid-2021, members of various taxi, construction and other mafias, and high-profile racists. The names of Sambudla-Zuma, Mkhwebane, Hlophe, Montana, Gama, Manyi, Molefe, Mpofu and Shivambu spring immediately to mind. The racists trumpet the fact that MKP will work only with other ‘black’ parties. It’s clear exactly what that means: a new form of apartheid.

For right-wing populism, MKP was remarkably frank in its general election manifesto. It wishes to scrap the Constitution, further empower traditional leaders, and impose customary law. Since the second and third were fatally compromised by British colonialism, it’s hard to see exactly where the starting point for this might be. And as there was no written legal code, customary law was handed down by word of mouth, a chain long since broken and subject to multiple contagion. There was even mention of a detention centre for wayward teenagers; pregnant females naturally. How is this return to medievalism to be squared with, say, urban life in the virtual reality of the twenty-first century?

MKP made a remarkable debut in South African electoral politics this year and constitutes the official opposition in parliament by virtue of the composition of the government of national unity. But this success was achieved largely in the Zulu-speaking areas of the country – KwaZulu-Natal, Mpumalanga and Gauteng. Indeed, it nearly obliterated the ANC in KZN and needs just four seats to form a provincial government, something ironically only the ANC itself is likely to provide. This suggests a limited future for MKP: it is seen as a Zulu nationalist party in a country in which tribal identity still counts, particularly Xhosa, Sotho and Tswana.

Another limiting factor is that of Zuma. On the one hand he represents aggrieved Africanism. But he is also an autocrat who treats MKP as a personal fiefdom. As Stephen Grootes shrewdly asked, who in, say, Kakamas is going to work for MKP when it has no internal democracy and individuals operate at the whim of the leader. Apparently this undemocratic state of affairs is designed to prevent infiltration. A lack of internal organisation suggests that its potential to run anything more demanding than a spaza shop is very constrained.

But that may not matter. Like the MAGA movement, MKP is totally phoney and trades on emotions and feelings that evoke a mythologised past. So, its present Zuluness may not be an obstacle and within a politics of grievance and anger a call to alleged traditional African values may have considerable clout. MKP emerged from within the ANC and it is here that its future trajectory lies. There are large numbers of officials and voters ready to jump ship and nationally the ANC is collapsing organisationally, the Gauteng provincial committee virtually a law unto itself. Julius Malema’s EFFs are disintegrating and here is another fertile field for members and votes.

Ultimately, the MKP’s apparent weaknesses may either turn out to be irrelevant or even strengths. There are many South Africans with good reason to be angry and willing to rally around a party with an overt and aggressive African nationalist agenda. The fact that it is run by a group of moral defectives and delinquents may be an irrelevance. The ANC is increasingly fractious, and could well implode to be absorbed into MKP. Zuma’s predictable refusal to accept expulsion is not only an autocrat’s inclination to obey no rules, but a signal that he remains head of the ‘real’ ANC.

The political situations in South Africa and the USA bear striking similarities and just as Trump was unwisely written off, so the same mistake might be made of Zuma. And in both countries, hard though this is to credit, it would appear that being a convicted felon, an abuser of women and a fraud may in fact boost one’s political popularity. Many voters appear to be looking for two things: giving the finger to the established system; and entertainment particularly at the expense of perceived enemies. When those needs are sated, they will be wondering why nothing much has changed, or even worsened; but by then it will be far too late. Too much will have been broken.