So, David Dabede Mabuza is dead. South Africa’s former Deputy President. A man who, for most people outside Mpumalanga, made as much of an impression on the vice presidency as a lizard crossing a tar road in Kariba at night. You might miss it, you might hit it, either way you’re still going home with the same thoughts.
Now, to be clear, the man was not exactly nobody. Born in 1960 in a village called Phola near Barberton, Mabuza trained as a teacher in the 1980s before joining the ANC in its post-liberation rebuild. By the late ’90s he was already climbing the ranks — MEC for Education, Roads, Housing, Agriculture — basically if Mpumalanga had a department, he passed through it. In 2009, he became Premier of the province, a position he held until 2018. And from there, through sheer political dark arts and low-light dealmaking, he catapulted himself to become Deputy President of South Africa under Cyril Ramaphosa.
He called himself “The Cat”, not because of feline grace or nine wisdoms, but allegedly because he kept surviving — assassination attempts, political backstabbing, rumours of poisoning, and the fact that he was part of Jacob Zuma’s orbit and still somehow landed in Cyril’s lap. My brother in Christ, that’s not a nickname, that’s a Marvel origin story.
And yet, despite holding one of the most powerful jobs in South African politics, his legacy is almost impossible to define. What did Mabuza do as Vice President? Ask 10 South Africans and you’ll get 11 shrugs and a Julius Malema meme.
But don’t be fooled. That nothingness was a power move.
Enter the 2017 Elective Conference: The Day History Was Whispered at a Wedding
Let’s talk about the moment David Mabuza actually changed South African history. You see, back in December 2017, the ANC was deciding who would succeed Jacob Zuma as party president — a decision that, in the ANC’s single-party state reality, is basically choosing the country’s next president.
The contenders were:
- Cyril Ramaphosa – Business-friendly, vaguely respectable, could speak in complete sentences.
- Nkosazana Dlamini Zuma – Ex-wife of Jacob Zuma, political heavyweight, and Zuma’s faction’s anointed.
And no one knew which way it would go. Journalists were in the dark, analysts were guessing. Until, according to an Dan Corder (one of South Africa media treasures – according to me at least), a very powerful man was told — in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by drunken uncles and awkward bridesmaids — that “DD’s switched. Cyril’s got it.”
David Mabuza, as Premier of Mpumalanga, shifted his support to Cyril Ramaphosa, a move that decisively influenced the outcome. That single decision sparked Ramaphoria—a fleeting period when South Africans remembered what hope felt like—and also set off a chain reaction across the political spectrum. The MK Party eventually formed, since, had Dlamini Zuma won, Zuma and his allies would likely have remained within the ANC.
The EFF found fresh ammunition, claiming the ANC was now under the sway of “white monopoly capital.” Meanwhile, the DA panicked, which led to Helen Zille’s return, Mmusi Maimane’s departure, and the rise of John “The Algorithm” Steenhuisen. Ironically, it also cemented the most unfortunate nickname in recent political history: “The Cat.”
That decision — that one political jump from Team Zuma to Team Ramaphosa — changed everything. No speeches, no rallies, no manifesto. Just quiet, backroom realpolitik with the kind of skill that makes you both terrified and impressed.
Power Without Legacy
Mabuza was powerful, no doubt. He turned Mpumalanga into a political powerhouse by building grassroots ANC branches, which in ANC-land means actual influence. He was part of the infamous “Premier League” with Ace Magashule and Supra Mahumapelo — an unholy trinity of patronage, factionalism, and terrifying combovers.
And yet, his time as Deputy President felt like a ghost tour. He barely showed up publicly. He was absent, then he wasn’t. Then he was in Russia “for treatment.” Then back. Then he resigned “to make way for younger leaders.” Nobody even remembers if he gave a farewell speech.
He wielded immense influence, but his fingerprints were always wiped clean. The perfect inside man. A real-life Littlefinger.
A Zimbabwean’s Perspective
Now, watching this from Zimbabwe, you might think we have nothing to learn from South African politics. After all, we’ve got our own 40-year-old mess that we still insist on calling a democracy.
But I’ll say this — Mabuza’s story is a warning.
South Africa doesn’t get coups. It gets chess games. Quiet ones. Played in dark suits behind wood-panelled doors, fuelled by whisky and WhatsApps, not guns and tanks.
And that’s why you have to pay attention. Because one man with just enough branch sign-ups can tip an entire nation’s history without ever going viral. He doesn’t need to be loved. He just needs to be feared. Or respected. Or owed a favour.
David Mabuza was all of those things. And now, he’s dead. The Cat has finally run out of lives.
But don’t be surprised if, somewhere down the line, some new chaos emerges — traced back to a deal he made, a favour he called in, or a ghost he left behind.
🖋 From Blissful Ignorance – Political Commentary with the Side-Eye You Didn’t Know You Needed.
🧠 Read more at blissfulignorance.online