Take Jeremiah, Joseph, Moses, Samuel & Amos into the Voting Booth - St George's Cathedral

 Electoral Code of Conduct Observer Commission
Interfaith Gathering of Prayer for Peace, Integrity and a Just and Fair Election 
The Most Revd Dr Thabo Makgoba, Chair
St George's Cathedral, Cape Town
Saturday August 22, 10 am

My Colleagues who lead the Religious Communities of our City and Province,
Members of faith communities,
Fellow citizens,
Friends,

Welcome to the Cathedral for this important initiative, so vital to ensure that we have a peaceful, just and fair election which truly reflects the will of people. 

Thank you all for coming, and thanks to Dean Terry Lester for hosting us here at St George's, a venue which is no more important than any other place of worship in Cape Town, but which has a special record of hosting inter-faith protests and gatherings aimed at establishing and deepening our democracy.

As we gather to hear the leaders of different faith traditions bring our various perspectives and traditions to bear on the critical task of ensuring that the forthcoming municipal elections are conducted peacefully and that those who are elected truly reflect the views and aspirations of our communities, I recall the words of the Jeremiah, prophet of two of our city's faith traditions. In chapter 29 of the Old Testament, Jeremiah urges those in exile in Babylon: 

“Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you, and pray to the Lord on its behalf; for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” (Jeremiah 29:7)

These words are apposite for us today, because they encourage us not only to pray for the welfare of the city, but also to do something about it—to work towards ensuring that the city becomes a reflection of the kingdom of God.

There is a particular relevance in that Jeremiah's audience was being encouraged to do this at a time when the city and its politics were far from perfect. As exiles, the people Jeremiah was addressing were not living in a political dispensation of their own choosing. Yet they were being told: just because your situation is not perfect does not mean that you can set aside your responsibility to do something to make it better than it is now.

As we approach election day on November 4th, I am sure that I can take it for granted that we agree that we all have a duty to vote and that we will encourage others to exercise this serious moral responsibility. 

That said, each of us goes into the voting booth alone, unless we need special support, and each of us has the freedom to vote as we please, and for our ballot to remain secret. However, as we do that, each of us needs to take in with us the wisdom of our particular faith tradition. To be specific, we have a responsibility to build our cities, but we have a special responsibility to do that in a way that draws on our sacred texts.

Obviously, we should take Jeremiah with us: Jeremiah, who exhorts us to look after the welfare of the places in which we live.

But as Christians or Jews, I want to suggest that we also take Joseph with us. Genesis 41 records how Joseph helped Israel prepare for famine. He studied the problem. He planned. He managed resources. He thought about the future. Joseph teaches us that competent governance matters. We condone incompetence to our peril and frustrate the flourishing of the city. 

So when we enter that voting booth on November the 4th, let us also take Joseph with us. However much we may have been seduced by posters, however strong our emotional attachment to particular parties may be, we should ask ourselves whether we are voting for a party or for people who teach us, remind us, and exemplify the truth that competent governance matters.

It is not enough to have promises or good intentions. It is not even enough to ask, “Do I like this person?” We must ask the more fundamental question that Joseph places before us: Are they capable of governing?

I also want us to take Moses into the voting booth with us—Moses, whom Jethro advises in Exodus 18 on the art of leadership. Jethro gives Moses a remarkable and practical criterion for choosing those who will govern: they must be trustworthy and honest people who hate dishonest gain. That is the real test we face at this election, at this time as we ponder the lessons of the Madlanga Commission.

Corruption is not merely poor administration. Corruption is a moral issue because fundamentally, it is theft from the poor. Money stolen or diverted to favoured projects is money taken from schools and clinics, from housing, water, roads, and social services.

We can all agree that this is totally abhorrent, totally unacceptable, and that anyone who excuses or tries to explain away corruption is not fit to govern. We cannot put our X next to people or parties who dehumanise others, undermine the dignity of those made in the image and likeness of God. That adds profound insult to already festering injuries. 

So when we choose people we want to trust with leadership, we must ask: “Can they be trusted with that which belongs to everybody? 

Then there is Samuel, who when he is looking for a leader, sees Jesse's son Eliab and thinks, “Surely this is the Lord’s anointed.” But God responds: “Do not look on his appearance... because the Lord looks on the heart.”

Elections and campaigns are filled with appearances: posters, slogans, speeches, social media, promises, and political theatre. But faith asks us to look a little deeper. Each of our religious traditions challenges us to ask: What kind of character lies behind this candidate's campaign?

Character matters. And when we vote, we need to hold that criterion high in our hearts.

Let me mention one last person—one last person whom I think we need to take into the voting booth with us: Nathan. Now you will remember that Nathan was not afraid to confront King David when David has done wrong. No matter King David's power, Nathan does not hesitate to call him out. 

This is one of the Bible’s great statements about accountability. Kings are not above accountability. Nor are they above morality. Church leaders are not above accountability, nor are they above morality. Presidents are not above accountability, nor are they above morality. Political parties are not above accountability, nor are they above morality. And candidates for municipal councils are not above accountability, nor are they above morality. 

Nobody is. Each of our faiths therefore rejects political idolatry. We should never become so loyal to political formations or individual leaders that they can no longer recognise wrongdoing.

Finally there is perhaps the figure who is most important for us to take into the polling booth: Amos. The fundamental question of Amos, repeated throughout his prophetic ministry, is: What is happening to the poor? Recall that it is Amos who says: “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” Amos 5:24 

The plight of the vulnerable should deeply influence the discernment of every religious person, or person of faith, when considering politics. What do the policies being proposed mean for the poor, for the unemployed, for young people, for children, for elderly people, for women vulnerable to violence, for people with disabilities, for migrants and refugees, and for communities without adequate services?

And so we enter this time of electioneering, this season of deep reflection on the welfare of our city and the areas in which we live, we must as people of faith never evaluate politics only according to what benefits me. We have to ask: “What happens to my neighbour? What will serve the common good? What will serve and bless the good of all?

Amen.

* * * * *

Archbishop's Address on the Anniversary of the Marikana Massacre

 2026 Annual Marikana Commemoration Lecture 

Archbishop Thabo Makgoba 

August 2026

Honour | Engage | Create 

Our honoured families, members of the mining community, leaders of organised labour, esteemed guests and friends, colleagues, and fellow South Africans:

We gather once again to remember those colleagues and family members whose lives were lost in August 2012. 

We gather to honour their memory, to stand with their families, and to recommit ourselves to the long and sacred work of healing, renewal and justice. 

When I first spoke on such an occasion some years ago, I said that the Marikana Massacre had held up a mirror to South Africa. It forced us to look at ourselves: at the conditions in which people lived and worked; at the relationships between workers, companies, unions, communities, government and the police; at our failures of listening; at our failures of compassion; and at our failure, at times, to recognise the full humanity of one another. 

We could not then, and we cannot now, look away. 

The memory of Marikana is painful for those left behind, and also for the rest of the country, because it asks difficult questions. It asks: 

    • Have we done enough to ensure that such suffering never happens again? 

    • Have we done enough to restore dignity? 

    • Have we done enough to listen to the families, to workers and to communities? 

    • Have we done enough to build trust where trust was broken?

    • Have we done enough to make justice visible not only in words, but in practical change? 

I ask these questions because love of our country, love of our people and love of justice for all require honesty. Healing that is not grounded in truth cannot last. Renewal that is not grounded in dignity cannot take root. Hope that refuses to acknowledge pain is not hope at all; it is avoidance. 

And so today we remember with humility. 

We remember the lives lost. We remember the families who continue to carry grief. We remember the workers who carried the burden of difficult conditions and human aspiration. We remember a country confronted by its own wounds. We remember, too, the years of difficult work that have followed - work that has demanded patience, courage, listening and, above all, the willingness to remain in conversation even when conversation is hard. 

Over the years, I have spoken often about hope. I have spoken of ripples of hope, of green shoots of progress, of shared value, of trust, of courageous conversations, of building bridges across the chasms that separate us. Those were not slogans. They were and remain moral disciplines. 

Hope is a discipline. Trust is a discipline. Listening is a discipline. Reconciliation is a discipline. Responsible leadership is a discipline. 

And discipline is a continuous, daily work. The work of making mining serve the common good is one of the most important disciplines of our national life. 

I have also said before that the road towards healing and restoration is long and arduous. Today, we can say, believing it fully, that there has been progress. We have seen people who once stood far apart begin to sit together. We have seen families engaged with greater care. We have seen practical interventions seek to honour those who were lost and support those who remain. We have seen conversations among business, labour, faith communities and others that were once difficult to imagine. We have seen a growing recognition that mining cannot be measured only by what is extracted from the earth, but by what is restored to people, to communities and to the future. 

For this progress, we give thanks. 

But gratitude must never become complacency. Progress must never be used to silence pain. The fact that steps have been taken does not mean the journey is complete. The fact that bridges have been built does not mean everyone has crossed them – Indeed we saw earlier this year the murder of Chinette Callichan, a lawyer for Sibanye Stillwater, and the crossing of our built bridges must continue. The fact that hope has emerged does not mean hardship has disappeared, it does not mean that we can rest. 

Many families still carry emotional and economic burdens. Many communities still know the daily reality of inequality. Workers across our country still ask whether their dignity is fully recognised. Young people still ask whether the future being promised to them will be real. And South Africa itself remains a wounded nation, searching for ways to become more just, more compassionate and more united. 

That is why the messages of these past years remain valid today:

We must still hold up the mirror to assess ourselves, our achievements and our failures, clearly and honestly; 

We must still choose courageous self-examination over denial;

We must still reach across divisions, peacefully - not only to those with whom we agree, but to those with whom we disagree;

We must still recognise that trust is fragile, that it is built through actions more than speeches, and that it is hard-won and easily broken;

We must see that mining, when guided by integrity, a strong moral compass, can uplift communities, preserve environments, restore dignity and create lasting opportunities; and

We must still understand that shared value is not a phrase for a brochure. Shared value means that the benefits of development must be felt by those whose lives are closest to its impacts. It means that workers must be respected, communities must be heard, families must be supported, and future generations must inherit more than scars. 

So, as I prepare to step away from this role, my prayer is not that this work ends. My prayer is that it deepens. 

May the next chapter of the Marikana Renewal journey be marked by even greater courage. May it be practical, honest and people-centred. May it continue to honour the families, engage the difficult truths, and create a future worthy of those whose memory we hold today. 

Let us not allow Marikana to be defined only by tragedy. Let it also be remembered as the place where South Africans confronted pain and chose not to surrender to it. Let it be remembered as the place where grief called forth responsibility. Let it be remembered as the place where leaders learned again to listen. Let it be remembered as the place where a mining community began, slowly and imperfectly but sincerely, to build a new legacy. 

Thank you for allowing me, over these years, to walk a small part of this journey with you. It has been a privilege, a burden, and a blessing. 

May God bless the families. May God bless the mining communities of Marikana. May God bless all who continue the work of renewal. May the souls of the faithfully departed rest in peace and rise in glory. 

God loves you, and so do I.

*  * *  *  *

The 34 mineworkers killed by police on August 16, 2012:

    • Sitelega Meric Gadlela

    • Thembinkosi Gwelani

    • Patrick Akhona Jijase

    • Semi Jokanisi

    • John Kutlwano Legingoane

    • Jackson Lehupa

    • Janeveke Raphael Liau

    • Mafolisi Mabiya

    • Julius Tokoti Mangcotywa

    • Thembelakhe Mati

    • Anele Mdizeni

    • Bongani Mdze

    • Makhosandile Mkhonjwa

    • Telang Vitalis Mohai

    • Khanare Elias Monesa

    • Thabiso Mosebetsane

    • Thobile Mpumza

    • Babalo Mtshazi

    • Michael Ngweyi

    • Mphumzeni Ngxande

    • Ntandazo Nokhamba

    • Mgcineni "Mambush" Noki

    • Bongani Nqongophele

    • Mongezeleli Ntenetya

    • Andries Motlapula Ntsenyeho

    • Molefi Osiel Ntsoele

    • Henry Mvuyisi Pato

    • Modisaotsile Van Wyk Sagalala

    • Fezile David Saphendu

    • Pumzile Sokanyile

    • Mzukisi Sompeta

    • Thabiso Johannes Thelejane

    • Mphangeli Thukuza

    • Nkosiyabo Xalabile

    • Cebisile Yawa

    • Bonginkosi Yona

    • Thobisile Zibambele 

The 10 individuals killed in the days prior (August 12–14, 2012):

    • Daluvuyo Bongo (striker)

    • Hassan Fundi (Lonmin security)

    • Sello Ronnie Lepaaku (SAPS warrant officer)

    • Frans Mabelane (Lonmin security)

    • Paulina Masuhlo

    • Dumisani Mthinti

    • Thapelo Eric Mabebe (Lonmin employee)

    • Hendrick Tsietsi Monene (SAPS constable)

    • Thabiso Mosebetsane

    • Isaiah Twala