By Nco Dube | 16 September 2025

In South Africa’s constitutional architecture, Chapter 12 is often overlooked. It’s brief, just two sections but its implications are profound. It recognises the institution, status and role of traditional leadership under customary law, while placing it firmly within the bounds of the Constitution.

This recognition is not ceremonial. It’s a legal and cultural acknowledgement that millions of South Africans live under dual systems of governance: one democratic, the other customary. The challenge lies in how these systems interact, and whether traditional leaders are fulfilling their constitutional promise in the communities they serve.

What the Constitution Says

Section 211 affirms that traditional leadership may function subject to the Constitution and applicable legislation. Customary law is recognised, but only if it aligns with constitutional principles like equality, dignity and non-discrimination.

Section 212 allows national legislation to define the role of traditional leaders in governance, particularly at local level. This has led to the creation of advisory bodies such as the National House of Traditional and Khoi-San Leaders, and provincial houses that engage with policy and development.

The Traditional Leadership and Governance Framework Act outlines how traditional councils should be structured, including the inclusion of elected members and women. The Traditional Courts Act regulates customary dispute resolution, ensuring fairness, participation and the right to opt for state courts.

In theory, it’s a balanced framework. In practice, the lines blur.

What Happens on the Ground

In rural communities, traditional leaders are often the first point of contact for governance. They mediate disputes, allocate land, convene meetings and mobilise development. They are cultural custodians and practical problem-solvers.

When a borehole breaks, it’s the local chief who calls the municipality. When a family feud escalates, it’s the headman who steps in. When a youth programme needs support, it’s the council that provides the venue and moral authority.

This is not symbolic. It’s functional. And in many cases, it’s more responsive than formal structures. Traditional leaders live among the people they serve. Their legitimacy is rooted not only in lineage, but in proximity and continuity.

Accountability and Inclusion

The Framework Act requires transformation. Traditional Councils must include elected members and women. But implementation is uneven. Some councils have embraced change. Others remain opaque and patriarchal.

Transparency is a growing demand. Communities want clarity on land allocation, mining consultations and benefit-sharing agreements. They want minutes, not whispers. They want consultation, not instruction.

The Traditional Courts Act attempts to address this by guaranteeing participation, fair hearings and the right to choose state courts. But awareness is low. Without proper training, some leaders default to outdated practices that undermine justice.

Women’s representation is improving, but slowly. Leadership roles remain male-dominated. Youth voices are often sidelined, heard only in the context of sports or entertainment. If traditional leadership is to remain relevant, it must evolve, making space for new voices and ideas without abandoning custom.

Development and Cultural Economy

Traditional leaders are not just cultural figures. They are development actors. They help coordinate disaster relief, facilitate access to clinics and schools, support agricultural projects and host heritage festivals.

These activities sustain livelihoods and foster pride. Cultural tourism, craft markets and ceremonial events generate income and strengthen local economies.

But the gap between constitutional mandate and community impact remains. The Constitution gives recognition. The community gives responsibility. And somewhere in between, traditional leaders navigate a terrain that is both sacred and administrative.

Towards a New Compact

We need clarity. Memoranda of understanding between municipalities and traditional councils can define roles in service delivery and land-use planning.

We need data. Mapping communal tenure, service backlogs and dispute trends can inform targeted interventions.

We need transparency. Dedicated budget lines and audited financial reports can ensure accountability.

We need collaboration. Joint infrastructure projects: water, roads, clinics, can demonstrate the power of co-governance.

We need innovation. Digital registries for land rights and customary court cases can improve fairness and traceability.

We need inclusion. Mentorship programmes and succession reforms can expand women’s leadership. Youth forums can strengthen legitimacy and continuity.

We need education. Rights-literacy workshops can help communities navigate both customary law and constitutional protections.

We need oversight. Provincial Houses and the National Council should publish regular public reports.

And we need to measure impact not just in policy terms, but in safer communities, reduced disputes, faster service coordination and stronger local economies.

Conclusion: Tradition with Teeth

Traditional leaders are not just symbols. They are servants. They are not just custodians of the past. They can be architects of the future.

If we get this right, traditional leadership can be a bridge between the state and the people, between history and progress, between law and lived experience.

But if we get it wrong, it becomes a barrier. A source of exclusion, confusion and stagnation.

The Constitution has opened the door. It’s time we walked through it with clarity, courage and commitment.

Let’s build a model of traditional leadership that is proud, principled and participatory. One that reflects the best of who we are, and the promise of who we can become.

(Dube is a noted Political Economist, Businessperson, and Social Commentator whose insights are regularly featured on UkhoziFM and in various newspapers. For further reading and perspectives, visit: http://www.ncodube.blog)