In my first year at university, I had a friend who wanted to get onto the Student Representative Council (SRC). His opposition, the incumbent, was a coalition of clubs and societies centred around the ANC Youth League (ANCYL), supported by the Young Communist League and the Muslim Students’ Association.

Groups like the ANCYL tend to attract activists interested in discussion forums, political meetings, and campaigns to advance the “revolution”. Foreign policy features prominently Chairman Mao, Cuba, and, above all, Palestine. Yet this activist core represents a limited voting pool and is often a turn-off for the broader student body.

For actual ANCYL supporters, however, they are worried about other things. They are often poorer students, frequently from rural backgrounds, who experience the harsh realities of higher education firsthand. They deal with food insecurity, unpaid fees, sleeping in libraries, and high failure rates. They value the ANCYL’s militant posture when it is directed at an uncaring university bureaucracy. This confrontational approach helps these students stay in the university system, however precariously. As a result, this group forms a reliable voting bloc, voting consistently in the 15% to 25% turnout typical of campus elections.

At the time my friend wanted to take on this coalition, formal opposition parties were rare. Candidates had to instead form “mosaic slates”, coalitions of students excluded from ANCYL-aligned structures. These included middle-class students, minorities, and largely apolitical groups from faculties like commerce, or sporting codes. They called their slate the Independent Student Alliance (ISA). Even then, dislodging the ANCYL was difficult. While independents could theoretically appeal to most of the campus, converting that into votes was another matter.

In the year the ISA ran, however, they had an advantage, an erratic and increasingly ineffective Youth League. It neglected student issues, became consumed by factional infighting, and even managed to crash the SRC car. At the same time, agitation around the Palestinian issue intensified.

The ISA seized the moment. It positioned itself as focused on local issues rather than international causes, promising innovation and clean governance. Crucially, it mobilised new voters. The ANCYL’s base, meanwhile, failed to turn out. The result was unprecedented: the ANCYL lost every seat on the council.

For ANCYL members, such a defeat was existential. SRC positions offer access to networks, resources, and influence, particularly valuable for students from disadvantaged backgrounds. It is also a prize for those who might use the university tender system as an opportunity to loot. SRCs also serve as stepping-stones into provincial and national politics. A complete long-term loss is not sustainable.

The response was swift. The following year, the ANCYL regrouped, removed underperforming members, returned to basics, and refocused on student organising. The strategy worked. The ISA was defeated in the next elections and disappeared.

What is notable, however, is what did not change. The ANCYL did not abandon its radical rhetoric, particularly on foreign policy. Its stance on Palestine remained intact. This messaging was not electorally effective, but it energised activists and helped rebuild internal structures and kept alive important sources of material support.

Over time, however, foreign policy activism became a liability. Opposition groups continued to portray the ANCYL as disconnected from student concerns and only prioritising ANC ideology. Having committed so publicly, the League could not easily retreat. For several years, the pattern persisted, loud advocacy on Palestine, followed by electoral vulnerability.

Eventually, a quieter shift occurred. New leadership did not abandon support for Palestine, but it simply deprioritised it. The issue faded from the centre of campaigns. The movement adapted without openly reversing itself.

There are limits to drawing parallels between campus and national politics. Still, this is one of the few cases I know of where an ANC-aligned structure has demonstrably shifted its emphasis on the Middle East. So it is worth thinking about.

In 2024, the ANC leaned heavily into the Palestinian issue, in part because it had little domestic success to campaign on. The ICJ case, engagements with Hamas, and rallies dominated by massive Palestinian flags were central to its messaging. The strategy was aimed, in particular, at the Western Cape, where the ANC hoped to win Muslim voters from the Democratic Alliance.

It failed. The ANC dropped below 50% for the first time, and the Western Cape did not shift in its favour. If anything, more explicitly pro-Israel parties, such as the Patriotic Alliance, gained ground.

There has since been a change in tone. Naledi Pandor was voted out of office and was replaced as International Affairs minister by Ronald Lamola, who is far more affable. Yet the substance remains largely unchanged: continued hostility towards Israel, support for Iran and Hamas, and frequent confrontation with the United States (US).

Why does this persist?

As on campus, foreign policy appears to play a role in consolidating internal ideological support. It energises activists and sustains patronage networks that keep the party functioning. For President Cyril Ramaphosa, there is little incentive to change course. Foreign policy remains one of the few areas where he can point to a “success”.

With his presidency nearing its end, Ramaphosa appears to be playing a game of pass the parcel. Each diplomatic clash, with Israel, the US, or through alignments with Iran, Russia, and China, there shreds another layer of the lie that the ANC, and through it South Africa, follows a non-aligned policy. Western partners are frustrated, and even Arab states now face direct threats from Iran.

The hope may be that the reckoning does not come on his watch.

But a new ANC leadership is coming, and it may inherit a weakened organisation facing mounting external pressure. At that point, as with the ANCYL on campus, foreign policy activism may shift from asset to liability. When that happens, a quieter recalibration may follow, not an abandonment, but a repositioning of priorities.

With the right pressure, that may be the moment for an important shift to occur.