A disturbing phenomenon has emerged in South Africa's public discourse: growing nostalgia for apartheid among some citizens, including people of color who lived under the brutal system of racial oppression. The trend represents not genuine longing for white minority rule, but a warning sign about governance failures distorting historical memory.
On social media and in community conversations, South Africans increasingly compare current service delivery failures, corruption, and economic stagnation to what they remember as better infrastructure and basic services under apartheid. The sentiment, expressed as "things were better then," reflects deep frustration with post-1994 governance—but risks whitewashing one of history's most comprehensively oppressive systems.
The phenomenon demands careful analysis. Those expressing such views are not typically advocating for the return of explicit racial domination, pass laws, Bantu education, or systematic dehumanization. Rather, they are voicing profound disappointment that three decades of democratic governance have not delivered the prosperity and effective administration many expected from liberation.
For a 48-year-old colored woman who lived through apartheid, as one Reddit discussion participant described herself, the frustration is palpable. She recounted explaining to younger generations the realities of apartheid: separate pensions for different racial groups, white teachers receiving danger allowances to teach in non-white schools, international sanctions that isolated South Africa, the absurdity of banned music and censored media.
These were not minor inconveniences but manifestations of a system built on the premise that human worth varied by skin color. Yet when electricity cuts persist for hours daily, when municipal services collapse, when corruption scandals dominate headlines, such historical context can fade in the face of immediate hardship.
The danger lies not in the frustration itself—which is legitimate—but in how selective memory can obscure fundamental truths. Apartheid's infrastructure worked efficiently for some because it was built on the exploitation and exclusion of the majority. White suburbs received reliable services because black townships were systematically neglected. Economic growth benefited a minority while the majority lived under deliberately engineered poverty.
Moreover, many current infrastructure challenges stem directly from apartheid's legacy. The democratic government inherited a state designed to serve 20% of the population while controlling the other 80%. Extending services to previously excluded communities while managing the fiscal constraints of a sanctioned, isolated economy has proven extraordinarily difficult.
Yet this context, however important, does not excuse post-apartheid failures. The African National Congress has governed for three decades—long enough to own its record. Corruption under Jacob Zuma's presidency, state capture by the Gupta family, ongoing service delivery failures, and persistent inequality reflect governance problems that cannot be blamed entirely on apartheid's legacy.
In South Africa, as across post-conflict societies, the journey from apartheid to true equality requires generations—and constant vigilance. When current governance failures become severe enough that even apartheid victims question liberation's gains, it signals a crisis in the democratic project itself.
The solution is not to romanticize apartheid but to acknowledge why such sentiments emerge. They reflect a social contract under severe strain: citizens who expected democracy to deliver dignity, opportunity, and effective governance feel betrayed when it fails to do so.
South Africa's democratic achievements remain significant—a free press, independent judiciary, vigorous civil society, and regular competitive elections. These institutions provide the tools to address governance failures without abandoning democracy itself.
The emergence of apartheid nostalgia should serve as an urgent wake-up call to South African leaders across the political spectrum. When citizens begin to view even systematic oppression through rose-tinted glasses, it means current failures have become intolerable. The answer lies not in the past but in renewing democracy's promise: accountable governance, economic opportunity, and genuine equality under the Rainbow Nation's still-young constitutional order.
