OPINION | Local government requires more than charismatic personalities and viral moments

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Lesego Mahlangu

Voters queue  in Macassar in the Western Cape.
Voters queue in Macassar in the Western Cape. Picture: (Esa Alexander)

Local government elections in SA have consistently recorded lower voter turnout than national and provincial elections.

The 2021 local government elections marked the lowest voter participation since 1994, dropping to 46%. This is a sobering reality for a sphere of the government that is, in theory, the closest to the people.

This decline cannot simply be dismissed as voter apathy. While research often points to youth disengagement linked to frustration with failing municipal services, we must also recognise this as a form of protest.

Many residents are refusing to legitimise systems and leaders who show little appreciation for democratic participation.

The problem speaks directly to the calibre of politics and politicians at the local level. Local politics governs the most intimate details of daily life: water infrastructure, roads, clinics, housing allocations, informal trading spaces and spatial planning.

It shapes the material conditions of citizens more directly than parliament ever could.

This does not mean the local government is unimportant to citizens. It means the local democratic culture is fragile and rests heavily on political parties and their presence, or absence, within communities.

Parties such as the ANC and the EFF, whose political identities are rooted in grassroots mobilisation, have long acknowledged that weak local branches signal organisational decay.

The branch is meant to make ideology real in everyday community life. It is where political education happens, where mobilisation takes shape and where public accountability should begin.

Through this, communities identify the most appropriate people to carry a public mandate forward.

When branches weaken and community engagement fades, democracy thins.

It is not coincidental that declining voter participation in the local government elections parallels the erosion of the ANC’s grip.

At the same time, the EFF has sought to occupy this vacuum by engaging communities who feel betrayed by the promises of liberation. The real challenge, however, is rebuilding trust in political engagement itself.

Local politics has become contested terrain. Yet, some newer political actors have adopted strategies that rely on spectacle and crisis management.

The moral panic framework, most visibly associated with the likes of ActionSA, depends on leveraging immediate crises to build legitimacy.

It positions community leadership as a reactive hero swooping in to solve visible service failures. Social media becomes the battleground and optics become the currency.

In the City of Tshwane, mayor Nasiphi Moya has gained traction by presenting herself as the face of day-to-day service delivery.

Decisive action is important and visible leadership can restore public confidence. However, performance often reflects a misunderstanding of local government mandates and responsibilities. Switching off illegal electricity connections or driving revenue collection campaigns may generate visibility but cannot translate into sustainable solutions for water-crippled areas such as Hammanskraal, where residents continue to wait for safe and reliable water.

If decisive leadership is measured in symbolic enforcement rather than in the delivery of a genuine public mandate, we must question whether a coherent political strategy exists to engage communities in the complex and participatory processes required for sustainable governance and growth.

Similarly, figures like Xolani Khumalo have captured public attention through confrontational anti-crime tactics. While crime is a genuine and urgent concern, vigilante-style approaches cannot substitute for coherent policy engagement.

What we are witnessing is a politics of immediacy rather than a politics of institution building.

The local government requires more than charismatic personalities and viral moments. It requires leaders who see themselves as extensions of the people who entrusted them with defending their interests.

These structures exist to ensure that governance is rooted in public mandate rather than personal branding.

The water crisis in Johannesburg is a sobering case study of what happens when the lines between community-driven leadership and administrative accountability become blurred. When politicians interfere in day-to-day administration, or when accounting officers shift their legal responsibilities onto politicians, responsibility becomes unclear. And when responsibility is unclear, accountability breaks down.

In such an environment, the rise of performative political spectacle warrants the growing tendency to elevate high-profile figures such as Helen Zille as heroic troubleshooters capable of stepping into systemic crises and restoring order.

This framing suggests that governance failures can be solved through individual intervention.

But water infrastructure fails because of ageing systems, procurement weaknesses, institutional decay, poor intergovernmental coordination and insufficient long-term planning.

These challenges require professional, ethical and skilled administrative capacity committed to oversight and accountability.

When citizens are encouraged to believe that salvation lies in deployed individuals rather than in robust systems of governance, public accountability becomes personalised instead of institutionalised.

The focus shifts to asking whether the right personality is in charge.

A truly democratic and participatory society must resist this temptation.

If anything, the decline in local election turnout is a warning sign that democratic consciousness at the local level is weakening.

  • Mahlangu is a researcher in the City of Tshwane writing in her personal capacity.