The recurring political tension in Eswatini, the informal alliances between former heads of state in the region, and the swelling debate around monarchy versus democracy are not isolated events. They signal a much deeper crisis—one of identity, governance, and historical reckoning. The case of King Mswati III and the Swazi monarchy offers us a rare mirror: Do we seek authentic African governance, or are we content with repackaged colonial structures masquerading as democracy?
Much of the critique of Eswatini centres on King Mswati’s absolute power. But reducing the matter to “autocracy” is to ignore the constitutional and customary essence of traditional African leadership. The King’s central role is not a personal invention—it is part of a layered system of governance wherein power should ideally be mediated and guided by a royal advisory council, a cultural institution rooted in centuries of African political philosophy.
The crisis in Eswatini, therefore, is not the monarchy itself—but the dysfunction, weakening, or exclusion of traditional councils and mechanisms of ethical mediation. Historically, royal councils were not ceremonial appendages. They were governance institutions comprising elders, regents, chiefs, and voices of wisdom who interrogated decisions, offered counsel, and ensured communal legitimacy. In African tradition, they are the equivalent of a constitutional court, a senate, and a moral compass all in one. Their erosion—not the throne—is what threatens the social contract.
This is where the failure to juxtapose traditional governance to colonial-era statecraft becomes glaring. The colonial model introduced hierarchical, bureaucratic, and externally accountable systems that chain power to centralised executive structures detached from community ethics. In contrast, African customary governance was based on consensus, consultation, and accountable kinship. It wasn’t perfect, but it was participatory.
In modern South Africa, customary law enjoys full constitutional recognition. Chapter 12 of the Constitution, together with legislation such as the Traditional Leadership and Governance Framework Act, affirms traditional leadership as an integral component of governance—provided it operates within the values of the Constitution. This constitutional pluralism has allowed South Africa to evolve a hybrid legal system where customary and common law inform each other, producing groundbreaking jurisprudence on land rights, gender equity, and restorative justice.
Yet, many still see traditional systems as relics rather than reservoirs. In our pursuit of democracy, we risk engaging in legal self-colonisation—imposing frameworks that are foreign in origin and often failing in application. Is it not ironic that African revolutionaries travelled by ship to England expecting the Queen to exercise moral judgment over colonial administrators—hoping, perhaps naively, that her ceremonial status mirrored African monarchy, where kings are expected to act decisively and accountably through a council of elders?
The tragedy of the Swazi political crisis lies not in its monarchical system but in its absence of institutional depth. What must be fought for is not the King’s dethronement but the resuscitation of a powerful, representative, and constitutionally aligned royal council—a body that reflects the wisdom of the people and acts as a moderating force in governance.
Any system—democratic, communist, or monarchical—has no default purity. All have been sites of enrichment, corruption, progress, and oppression. Leaders across systems benefit from wealth, influence, and political insulation. The litmus test is not the system’s label but its accountability, legitimacy, and responsiveness to the governed.
Destroying the last indigenous monarchy in Africa under the banner of imported democracy may win applause from global observers. Still, it may also trigger long-term cultural erosion and generational regret. Today’s children may ask why you dismantle what could have been refined. Why did you not modernise your institutions instead of mimicking others?
Eswatini’s monarchy does not need to be overthrown. It must be reformed. Its traditional governance structures must be constitutionalised, resourced, and ethically re-centred. The King must be both a symbol and servant of this reform—standing not as a sovereign above the people but within a system of shared accountability.
In this, we will preserve a proud legacy and offer Africa and the world a unique model of democratic monarchy rooted in indigenous African values. True liberation lies not in replication but in authentic evolution.
Stan Itshegetseng is a writer, activist and current affairs commentator. He writes in his personal capacity.
