For millions of South Africans, the daily struggle for water, electricity and safety has become routine. Long queues for basic services grow longer, while those in power become wealthier. It may look like a state in crisis, but according to Professor Joseph Sekhampu, director of the North-West University (NWU) Business School, this dysfunction might not be failure at all, but rather how the state is designed to function.

Sekhampu says the recent findings of the Madlanga Commission have revealed how political power, state institutions and private interests are deeply connected. “What we often view as crisis could, in fact, be evidence of how the system is meant to work,” he explains.

According to him, South Africa’s state has evolved into a system of controlled dysfunction, one that rewards loyalty over competence and dependence over autonomy. This reflects what political scientists call a neo-patrimonial state, where formal government structures still exist, but real power operates through informal networks of favour, patronage and loyalty.

“In such a system, public office is often used for private gain, and the line between the state and the ruling party disappears,” Sekhampu says. “The Constitution and Parliament remain intact on paper, but the real work of governance happens behind the scenes.”

When the ANC came to power in 1994, it faced a deeply unequal state and enormous pressure to deliver rapid change to millions of people excluded from the economy. Without significantly redistributing wealth or restructuring the economy, the state itself became the primary vehicle for economic inclusion.

This gave rise to what Sekhampu calls political gatekeeping. Access to jobs, contracts and opportunities became tied to political allegiance. “Cadre deployment, which was initially meant to align and transform the state, evolved into a system of factional control. Over time, loyalty replaced competence as the currency of advancement,” he says.

Service delivery failures, he adds, are not always caused by incompetence but because dysfunction itself sustains the system. “The ongoing water crises, for example, are not just a result of incapacity. Each new failure justifies new tenders for water tankers — creating an ‘emergency economy’ where money flows while taps remain dry.”

Sekhampu argues that many national institutions do not fail because their mandates are unclear, but because true effectiveness would threaten the networks that sustain political power. “A capable civil service would make patronage unnecessary. Integrity would weaken control. That is why the system resists reform, it is not a failure to modernise, but a deliberate choice to personalise the state so that power and privilege remain tightly managed,” he explains.

While similar patterns exist elsewhere on the continent, South Africa’s version is marked by institutional sophistication. “Our courts, treasury and civil society remain strong on paper, but they often clash with the informal logic of patronage. The Madlanga Commission is just the latest mirror reflecting an old truth: that the promise of democratic governance continues to be undermined by a hidden economy of political exchange,” Sekhampu says.

Sekhampu believes the first step towards fixing the situation is to name it for what it is. “Reforms that ignore the incentives created by patronage will continue to fail. Anti-corruption agencies, technical solutions and even coalition governments will not succeed unless the political settlement itself is reimagined,” he warns.

He says South Africa needs a new social compact — one where political legitimacy is earned through delivering real public value, not through distributing patronage.

“The biggest myth is that the state has failed,” Sekhampu says. “The more unsettling truth is that it has succeeded — just not in the way we hoped. It has succeeded in protecting elites, trading dignity for dependence, and turning dysfunction into profit. The state is not broken. It has been perfected to protect those who thrive in its decay.”