Politics is a tough subject: it can either paint you as a villain or the master of progress.Sithembile Mbete is a political analyst whose passion goes beyond reporting. She questions the status quo and is not afraid to call out those who abuse power.
How did you become a political analyst?
I studied politics, French and economics for my undergraduate degree, then did honours and masters in international relations at UCT. My first job was at IDASA, a think tank, where I monitored parliamentary committee meetings and helped analyse the 2011 local government elections. That’s where I learned the ropes of political analysis.
I also got involved in civil society campaigning against the “Secrecy Bill”, which gave me insight into political activism and grassroots organising. After that I worked in the Presidency as a researcher for the National Planning Commission Secretariat, which gave me an insider’s view of the government. It was quite an education! I decided to further my studies with a PhD at the University of Pretoria where I’ve been a senior lecturer and researcher since 2013.
What inspired you to pursue this career path?
I’ve always been a political animal. My friends tease me about how I was explaining the 1994 elections to them as a nine-year-old on the playground! My dad was politically active and always indulged my questions about what was happening in politics. I initially thought I’d join the diplomatic corps, which is why I studied French, but I realised that I really enjoy the academic study of domestic and global politics more than the practice of it. I also love teaching, so being an academic at a university gives me the best of all worlds.
Do you think there are enough female voices in your field?
No, there aren’t. Research by Media Monitoring Africa shows that women made up less than 20% of sources used by media houses in reporting on the 2024 elections. It’s really surprising considering women make up 55% of registered voters and more women than men have voted in elections since 1999. South Africa is still a very patriarchal country and women struggle to be recognised as experts in many fields. I think that’s part of the explanation. Media producers often don’t see anything wrong with having men-only panels talking about politics.
Have you dealt with imposter syndrome? If so, how did you navigate through it?
Yes, definitely. An academic career can be brutal. You have to get used to having your ideas and writing scrutinised in peer review, often in really harsh ways. It can really dent your confidence. Doing public-facing work is hard sometimes. People seem to have more to say about my appearance or the tone of my voice than the substance of my comments. I deal with this by being as well-prepared as possible. Luckily, I have a very strong support system of family and friends to remind me who I am when I doubt myself. They are also very honest with me and offer constructive criticism when I need it. My closest friends have been in my life for over 25 years and keep me grounded.
How would you describe the political landscape through the female lens?
I firmly believe in the feminist maxim that the personal is political, so politics touches every part of our lives. Our political landscape is tough for women. Women bear the brunt of the biggest challenges we face as a country, especially poverty and unemployment. Gender-based violence is also a scourge that undermines women’s quality of life. Yet, we don’t see the political will to solve these problems in a sustainable way.Women have made some progress in gender representation in government compared to other countries, but this reversed a bit in 2024. Although women make up the majority of the electorate, fewer women than men are elected to office. Just one of the 18 parties represented in parliament has a woman leader. It feels like we’re taking three steps forward and two steps back.
What factors do you think hinder women from pursuing a career in politics?
Party politics can make it very difficult for women to rise in leadership roles within their parties, which has an impact on how many women have political power. Things aren’t easier for female independent candidates either, who face hurdles raising funds and other resources for election. We also have a lot of political violence, especially at the local level, so the threat of being killed or injured is a barrier to women’s participation in politics. Sexual harassment and assault are also rife. It creates an unsafe environment for many women and hinders their progress.
What are the benefits of having more women in leadership?
At the height of the Covid pandemic, several studies showed that female leaders responded more effectively to the crisis. They showed greater leadership, responded more rapidly and were more inclusive in their policies. They also seemed to understand the effects of the pandemic beyond public health. I think the way women are socialised makes us more likely to be inclusive and consultative in our leadership style. However, history has also shown us that women political leaders can be as violent and cruel as men, so we must be careful not to be essentialist in our thinking on these issues.
Do you think South Africa is ready for a female president?
I don’t like this question because it treats women like these weird beings that need a special situation to lead. I think it’s a terrible indictment that we haven’t had a woman president yet.
What do you think needs to change in South A frican politics to move forward?
I think we need more people to get involved in politics to strengthen our democracy and to achieve the progress we want to see. On paper, we have a very participatory democracy – the constitution provides for public participation in law-making, budgeting, and municipal planning processes. But most people don’t know that. We need a big civic education drive so we can all be informed about the power we have.
Article first appeared on GLAMOUR’s Sept/Oct 2024 issue
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