2026 LGE: SA’s proud democratic moment, lessons Africa cannot ignore 

By Dr Tendai Shephard Mbanje

On Sunday evening, 8 November 2026, at the National Results Operation Centre in Midrand, something happened that too many Africans have never seen at the end of an election. The results were declared, and the political parties that did not perform well did not object or tell their supporters that the election had been stolen. Instead, there was harmony and celebration. Leaders of rival political parties shared a stage and a dinner table, ululated and danced. Commissioners of the Electoral Commission embraced the very party representatives who, weeks earlier, had been testing their every decision. It was, quite simply, a proud South African moment. It is worth pausing on why that moment matters, because it tells us what elections are really for. 

What an election is: A South African perspective 

The Chief Electoral Officer of the IEC reminded South Africans that an election is not merely a headcount or the act of casting ballots. It is the means by which a society hands over power peacefully, through a lawful and constitutionally mandated process, and the means by which the least powerful citizen speaks with the same weight as the most powerful. Section 19 of the South African Constitution guarantees that right. In his address that evening, Sy Mamabolo invoked the words of former Constitutional Court Justice Albie Sachs: each citizen’s vote is a badge of dignity and personhood, an affirmation that everybody counts. 

But a vote only carries dignity if people trust the process that counts it. Electoral Commission Chairperson Mosotho Moepya put it plainly when he declared the elections: “The freeness and fairness of an election cannot be presumed. It must be established.” This year, the Commission established it. 

Election excellence, by the numbers 

The scale of what the Commission delivered is easy to overlook. Some 29.2 million voters were registered. About 188,000 electoral staff worked across 23,696 voting stations. Around 56,000 voter management devices tracked turnout, ballot use and staff attendance in real time. Over 100 million ballot papers were printed, for a contest involving 521 political parties, 636 independent candidates and roughly 137,000 candidates for 10,526 council seats in 213 municipalities. 

Then came the curveball. On 15 October, less than three weeks before polling day, a Constitutional Court order required changes to candidate lists in six municipalities. About 28 million ballot papers had to be set aside and reprinted. The Commission extended the same treatment to 32 other similarly placed parties so that no one was advantaged, and still opened on time on 4 November. That is not luck. It is institutional competence. 

The Commission also understood that, in 2026, elections are won and lost in the information space as much as at the ballot box. Research by the Human Sciences Research Council had warned that voters were heading to the polls in a low-trust environment. The Commission responded with practical measures, such as a code of conduct against disinformation, an agreement with social media platforms, and the establishment of a complaints portal. It also opened a first-ever Virtual Results Operating Centre. Parties could watch results being captured and audited from anywhere, and the results data feed answered more than 14 million requests. 

The outcome speaks for itself. Turnout rose to 52%, up 6.1 percentage points from 2021, reversing years of decline. According to the Commission’s voter satisfaction survey, 90% of voters regarded the process as free and 91% as fair. Ninety-five per cent were satisfied with the Commission’s service, and 91% waited in a queue for 30 minutes or less. No party won a national landslide. There are now more hung councils than ever: 137. Yet parties accepted the results and turned to coalition talks rather than the streets. 

A contrast our continent cannot ignore 

This matters because it is not the norm everywhere. Less than two years ago, Mozambique’s disputed October 2024 election was followed by weeks of protests in which more than 100 people were killed, according to civil society monitors. In Tanzania, a government-appointed commission of inquiry found that at least 518 people died in violence around the October 2025 general election. Kenya still carries the scars of 2007–08. In too many places on our continent, the announcement of results is the moment families lock their doors. 

Africa also has proud democrats. Botswana, Ghana, Senegal and Mauritius have all seen peaceful changes of government at the ballot box. South Africa does not stand alone. But on 8 November it offered one of the clearest examples on the continent of what an election can look like when institutions are trusted, and losers accept defeat. That is an example worth exporting to Africa and to established democracies abroad where accepting defeat is no longer guaranteed. 

Lessons learnt 

Five lessons stand out: 

First, independence is earned every election. Trust in the Commission remains high at over 81%. It must be maintained through transparency, not assumed. 

Second, the rule of law includes the courts. The late Constitutional Court order was costly, but it was obeyed. Electoral bodies that bend to court orders, rather than resist them, strengthen democracy. 

Third, violence must be met with the law, swiftly. In Douglas, in the Northern Cape, party activists stormed a voting station and destroyed ballot papers before counting. The Commission ordered a revote, approached the Electoral Court and laid criminal charges. Such incidents were the exception, and they must remain so. 

Fourth, the people who run elections need a proper legal framework. Presiding officers and their deputies need nationally set standards of skill, and there must be clear rules on using public servants at voting stations. 

Fifth, democracy does not end at the ballot box. A vote is a mandate, not a blank cheque. Citizens must keep asking questions, attending ward meetings and holding the newly elected to account. The coming weeks of coalition negotiations will test whether the politicians honour the voters as gracefully as they celebrated them. 

A moment to be proud of 

Thirty-two years after the first democratic queues of 1994, and 30 years of celebrating a beautifully progressive constitution, it is easy to take all this for granted. We should not. On Sunday night, a country with deep inequality, fierce political rivalry and every reason for tension chose music over menace. The Commission’s Chairperson likened this election to an orchestra in which each player sounds different, yet the result is unmistakably South African. 

For South Africans, this election is more than an administrative exercise. It is a celebration of who South Africans are as a people. South Africa is a nation that negotiated its way out of oppression rather than fighting to the last, and that chose a ballot over a bullet in 1994. South Africans are a people of ubuntu, who understand that ‘I am because we are’. The national motto, !ke e: /xarra //ke, calls on diverse people to unite, and nowhere is that clearer than in a voting queue. The domestic worker and the CEO, the farmer and the student, speakers of twelve official languages, all wait in the same line and cast a vote of exactly equal weight. When people vote, and then sing together whatever the outcome, they are not just choosing councillors. They are reaffirming their identity, nationhood, and a common destiny. That is what an election is supposed to be. South Africa showed it can be done, and Africa and the world were watching and learning. 

Dr Tendai Shephard Mbanje is a regional governance and elections expert and a postdoctoral fellow in the College of Law at the University of South Africa (UNISA). He served as Deputy Head of Mission of the UNISA Election Observation Mission to South Africa’s 2026 Local Government Elections. He writes in his personal capacity.