WHEN President Cyril Ramaphosa praised the efficiency of DA-run municipalities and the Government of National Unity (GNU), many black South Africans, myself included, reacted with outrage.

To many of us, it felt like a profound betrayal and misunderstanding of the difference between affluent DA-run municipalities and the poor-run ANC municipalities; the leader of the historic liberation movement, the ANC, seemingly endorsing the enemy of “the poor and working class”.

My own initial reaction was one of disbelief and anguish, but this instinctive response misses the deeper, more uncomfortable truth this article will confront. But reflection reveals a deeper systemic issue: our economic dependency as black South Africans relying on broad-based black economic empowerment (B-BBEE), affirmative action (AA), social grants, free public services and government jobs, without significant productive contribution, constrains the very leaders we criticise.

Thirty-one years into democracy, we must confront how our reliance on redistribution, mislabelled as “transformation”, weakens the ANC and our agency as a race. The conversation we are not prepared to confront is that the majority of black South Africans remain consumers within an economy we do not sufficiently own or drive, reliant on state redistribution rather than productive contribution.

This reality does not just weaken our economy because we rely on a few to produce, it also leads to high unemployment because we have failed to leverage our majority into human capital which fundamentally ties the hands of the very leaders we criticise forcing them into a delicate dance of praise and appeasement that this article will unpack, arguing that our path to true empowerment is obstructed not primarily by the ANC’s failures, but by a deeper crisis of agency.

True liberation has been stalled by a prevailing culture of dependency among the black majority and the phenomenon of black capital that remains, in essence, “capitalists without capital”, financial wealth decoupled from productive, job-creating enterprise. Until we, as black South Africans, transition from a reliance on redistribution and entitlement to a culture of building, ownership, and productive contribution, we will remain tenants in our own economy, forever blaming and waiting for an economic liberation that we alone must build.

Ramaphosa’s acknowledgement of DA-run municipalities and the GNU reflects a pragmatic recognition of South Africa’s economic structure. The private sector, still predominantly white and foreign-owned, generates the tax revenue that funds social grants, public sector wages, and policies aimed at redressing historical inequalities.

This sector’s productivity is the backbone of the state’s ability to redistribute, yet it is often vilified in our discourse without proper acceptance of such a reality or appetite for genuine reform. When Ramaphosa highlights the efficiency of certain municipalities or the stabilising role of the GNU, he is not praising whiteness but acknowledging the economic contributions that sustain our welfare system, which we are not ready to acknowledge.

Without this revenue, the government’s ability to support millions of South Africans would collapse, potentially mirroring the economic decline seen in Zimbabwe.

This reality places ANC leaders in a quagmire. They must balance the expectations of a voter base that demands transformation, often interpreted as wealth redistribution, with the need to maintain a functional economy. As black South Africans, we must ask: why, three decades after apartheid, do our leaders still seem tongue-tied when addressing economic realities? The answer lies partly in our own actions or lack thereof.

Unfortunately, Ramaphosa’s statements reflect a harsh reality. ANC leaders are tongue-tied because black South Africans, as a majority, remain consumers rather than producers. This dependency forces leaders to balance voter demands for redistribution with the need to sustain an economy driven by a small, white and foreign-owned private sector. Four presidents into democracy, this reality persists. Leaders like Ramaphosa cannot speak candidly without risking backlash, as their ability to deliver services depends on tax revenue from a productive minority.

Our failure to contribute to the economic value chain leaves the ANC vulnerable, unable to positively challenge the private sector without destabilising the system that funds our welfare.

True economic transformation requires more than government spending on education, NSFAS, BEE, affirmative action or free public services. While these policies have lifted some, creating a black middle class and elite, many of these beneficiaries have not used their gains to uplift the poor. Instead, they view their success as personal, producing little while relying on ANC-driven policies enforced on big business.

This entitlement culture undermines the social contract: we cannot take from the state which imposes on whites to redistribute to us, without giving back. South Africa’s public services are superior to most in Africa, and attracting both documented and undocumented migrants depends on taxes from a productive few, yet we often demand more without contributing.

The dwindling black middle class, angry at the ANC for not sustaining its expensive lifestyle, fails to ask what it can do for the country and its people. If the ANC rescinded BEE, affirmative action, or NSFAS, most black middle-class families would slide into poverty, revealing their dependency on policies they hold in contempt. This reliance, coupled with ANC’s pressure on big business to fund these programmes, weakens the very leaders who face criticism for both their benevolence and their failures, like corruption.

For 31 years, BEE and affirmative action have enriched a few black millionaires and billionaires, often as shareholders in white-owned companies, not as entrepreneurs building factories or jobs. Real entrepreneurs contributing to the value chain of our economy are there, but few, and these shareholders that are usually paraded as “black excellence” rarely start their own companies nor disrupt their status quo.

In essence, 31 years of BEE and affirmative action have produced a paradox: a class of “capitalists without capital” who are wealthy yet do not generate the productive, economy-driving assets that would grant true independence; their wealth is tied to the existing system, not to building a new one.

This leaves ANC leaders in a profoundly weakened position. They are forced to praise the very private sector that funds the state, all while being criticised by many of us for failing to overthrow it. This leadership is constrained not by a lack of will, but by the cold, hard logic of an economy they and we do not control.

This culture of dependency manifests in deeply personal choices, creating a political paradox that entrenches the cycle of entitlement. Politicians become trapped in a system they did not create but must sustain, compelled to redistribute resources from the few who generate wealth to the many who consume it. This is the ultimate constraint on leadership, a system that rewards dependency and punishes fiscal prudence, making genuine economic transformation politically impossible.

Ramaphosa’s statements, though shocking, force us to confront our role in these antagonistic and non-antagonistic contradictions. We must move beyond being consumers reliant on government or white capital. Real economic transformation requires building businesses, creating jobs, and fostering innovation and not just BBBEE and other incentives that have bred dependency.

Consequently, we have an opportunity to view Ramaphosa’s praise for the DA and GNU not as a betrayal but a reflection of our own economic reality as a people.

No political party, whether advocating redistribution, nationalisation, or anti-foreigner rhetoric, can resolve our challenges without our active contribution to the economy. Parties blaming foreigners for “stealing” jobs also ignore that those jobs are created by the private sector, not the state. These movements offer no solutions, as they, too, rely on the wealth generated by others.

As black South Africans, we must therefore embrace personal responsibility, work together and become a productive force that can engage and debate as equals. Only then can we empower our leaders to speak with clarity and build a future where transformation means creation, not just redistribution.

* Phapano Phasha is the chairperson of The Centre for Alternative Political and Economic Thought.

** The views expressed here do not reflect those of the Sunday Independent, IOL, or Independent Media.

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