The launch of Patrice Motsepe’s “PM 27 Savumelana” campaign, as first reported by Sunday World last weekend, has sent ripples through South Africa’s political landscape, framed by its backers as nothing less than a rescue mission for the beleaguered ANC.
As the ANC stares down its most perilous electoral test since 1994, haemorrhaging support due to rampant corruption, economic stagnation, and a profound crisis of public trust, the question arises: can a billionaire businessman, however well-intentioned, truly save the party?
Motsepe’s appeal is superficially potent. But is he the embodiment of a successful capitalist who can steer the state with the efficiency of a corporate boardroom? The “Savumelana” (let’s agree) slogan promises a unifying pragmatism, a technocratic antidote to the factional poison that has paralysed the ANC.
His immense personal wealth, the argument goes, insulates him from the petty corruption that has become endemic in the co-governing party.
However, this very narrative exposes the profound contradictions at the heart of the purported rescue. The ANC’s crisis is not merely one of poor management; it is a deep-seated moral and ideological decay. It is a crisis born of state capture, of the blurring lines between party, state, and personal enrichment – a system from which the ultra-wealthy have disproportionately benefited, even if some, like Motsepe, have done so more cleanly than others. Can a symbol of staggering inequality credibly mend a party that has lost its connection to the struggling masses? To many South Africans, the “Billionaire Saviour” trope may feel less like a solution and more like a perpetuation of the very power dynamics that have failed them.
Furthermore, PM 27 risks being seen not as a renewal but as an attempt by powerful establishment interests – a coalition of business and remaining ANC stalwarts – to stage a managerial coup, changing the pilot but not the flight plan.
It seeks to save the ANC as an institution of power without necessarily confronting the painful, systemic introspection required to save its soul. But can this campaign address the foundational loss of the party’s ethical compass? Can a top-down, corporatist approach rekindle the grassroots belief and volunteerism that once powered the movement?
Ultimately, Motsepe’s entry is less likely to be the ANC’s salvation and more a stark symptom of its desperation. It signifies a party so emptied of credible, unifying internal leadership that it must look outside its ranks for a lifeline. While his managerial skills could provide temporary stabilisation, true salvation for the ANC cannot be bought or managed into existence. It requires a painful, transparent reckoning with its past failures, a ruthless distancing from corruption, and a genuine reconnection with the people’s daily struggles – a task far beyond the remit of any single leader, no matter how wealthy or well-branded.
The ANC does not need a saviour; it needs a revolution within itself. Until that happens, PM 27 may simply rearrange the deckchairs on a ship that remains dangerously adrift.
