What China Reminded Africa About State Capacity and National Sovereignty
At a recent engagement hosted by the National School of Government, Professor Zhang Weiwei, one of China’s leading political thinkers and architects of its ideological framing, offered us a presentation that was as provocative as it was illuminating. It was not a policy prescription. It was not a blueprint. But it was a challenge: to stop outsourcing our development imagination, to move past ready-made paradigms, and to confront, with seriousness, the crisis of governance that afflicts much of the Global South — including South Africa.
Zhang laid out what he describes as the key features of the “China model.” These include a pro-development state insulated from the short-term cycles of factional politics; a ruling party that, rather than representing narrow interests, functions as a holistic agent of national unity; a leadership selection system that prioritises performance and merit over mere electoral theatrics; a form of democracy that delivers results, not just rituals; and above all, an approach to governance anchored in improving the daily lives of ordinary people. China, he reminds us, did not get here through slogans or mimicry. It got here through coherence, planning, state discipline, and a clear commitment to building a nation capable of lifting hundreds of millions out of poverty. And yet — and here’s the most important part — Zhang cautions: “Please do not copy our model. Find your own way.”
That humility is not only disarming; it is profound. Because the temptation in a time of crisis is to reach for the ready-made. To borrow what seems to work elsewhere and hope that it works here. But the deeper message is that sovereignty cannot be simulated. It must be grounded in history, context, and the lived experience of our people.
The idea of a strong state, as Zhang presents it, is not the caricature of authoritarianism. It is about a state with the capacity to plan, the foresight to adapt, and the institutional coherence to execute. It is a state that is not beholden to populist cycles, corporate interests, or international pressure, but guided by a long-term developmental horizon. What China achieved through its five- and ten-year planning culture, its digital infrastructure rollout, and its targeted poverty eradication campaigns did not emerge from market forces alone. It emerged from a conscious decision to treat governance as a strategic instrument of national upliftment.
For us in South Africa, this should feel familiar — at least in theory. We, too, have had moments in our democratic journey where we understood the value of long-term planning. The National Development Plan remains one such example. But the challenge has always been implementation. Too often, our plans are undone by institutional instability, policy inconsistency, or corrosive internal battles. If we are to move forward meaningfully, we must ask: do we have a state capable of holding the line, of absorbing shocks, and of executing developmental priorities in a sustained and ethical way?
Professor Zhang’s reflections also invited us to consider the political philosophy beneath state performance. He spoke of China as a “civilisational state,” drawing on centuries of cultural, administrative, and philosophical unity. In South Africa, we don’t always speak in those terms. But perhaps we should. Because the legacies of Mandela, Mbeki, Tambo, and Sisulu — like the traditions of Ubuntu, the memory of resistance, and the demands of constitutionalism — are not merely political artefacts. They are fragments of a deeper project: the effort to build a capable, responsive, and people-centred state rooted in our own history. Like China, we emerged from struggle. Like China, we are trying to transform a fractured society. But unlike China, we have often underestimated the importance of institutional depth, cadre development, and ideological clarity.
Zhang’s critique of the Western liberal model of democracy — especially its overreliance on electoral rituals — was equally relevant. In much of the Global South, including in South Africa, we have free and fair elections. We have robust media. We have constitutionally enshrined rights. And yet, we remain plagued by delivery failures, economic exclusion, and deepening social fragmentation. Zhang calls this “procedural democracy” — and urges us instead to think about “substantive democracy,” where legitimacy is measured by whether people’s lives improve, whether children have food and education, whether homes have electricity and hope.
This is a hard question for us to face. Because it forces us to admit that democracy — if reduced to the act of voting every five years — can coexist with poverty, inequality, and despair. And unless we redefine democracy to mean participation, justice, and dignity, it will continue to lose credibility, especially among the youth.
In this context, Zhang’s framing of “performance legitimacy” — that is, the idea that governments earn authority by delivering results — offers a useful provocation. We don’t have to choose between democratic values and capable states. But we must recognise that political legitimacy cannot rest on liberation history alone. It must be renewed through action. Through delivery. Through restoring the social contract.
At the heart of Zhang’s model lies the prioritisation of people’s livelihoods. From education and healthcare to social protection and infrastructure, the state exists to serve. This is not a technocratic point — it is a moral one. If a government cannot ensure that a child eats, learns, and dreams, then its legitimacy is hollow. In South Africa, we must treat poverty with the urgency of a pandemic, not the rhetoric of a campaign. We must restore faith in public education, reinvest in basic services, and rebuild the machinery of the state so that it functions not as a gatekeeper, but as an enabler.
Zhang also gestures to the global dimensions of governance. In an increasingly multipolar world, the old Bretton Woods institutions no longer reflect the economic and political realities of today. Trade wars, debt crises, digital colonisation — these are no longer issues confined to any one region. They are systemic. And if we in the Global South are to defend our interests, we must do so not as isolated actors, but as a bloc.
South Africa’s current G20 Presidency offers an opportunity to help lead that bloc — not simply by raising our voice, but by helping articulate a new developmental framework that places solidarity, equality, and sustainability at the centre of global economic governance. This includes exploring alternatives to dollar dependency, championing a just digital transition, and deepening cooperation among emerging economies — not for extractive purposes, but for mutual upliftment.
What emerged from this engagement with Professor Zhang was not dogma. It was not a rigid theory. It was a provocation to think differently — and to act with greater urgency and intentionality.
The choice before us is not whether we become more like China or remain tied to the Western model. The choice is whether we continue stumbling through crisis with fragmented institutions and borrowed frameworks — or whether we finally begin the difficult but necessary work of building a uniquely South African state, capable of learning globally but rooted locally.
That state must be ethical, capable, inclusive, and unapologetically pro-poor. It must prioritise the long-term, plan for the polycrisis world, and renew the meaning of democracy through delivery. And it must do so in a way that reflects our values, our history, and our vision.
Professor Zhang reminded us — not of China’s greatness, but of what is possible when a people decide that the future will be made, not inherited.
That reminder could not have come at a better time.
Editor: Zhiyu Wang
