South Africa's tripartite alliance is testing the golden rule of three
- Chantell Ilbury
- Aug 8
- 4 min read
There’s something enduringly powerful about the number three.
Across cultures, mythologies, and even management models, we see a recurring instinct to group ideas into threes. Not because of superstition, but because three offers just the right amount of complexity. It’s stable enough to stand, but dynamic enough to evolve.
In strategy, we often work in threes. Thesis, antithesis, synthesis. Structure, process, context. Vision, action, reflection. Each of these triads speaks to the inherent tension of progress: the interplay of contradiction and creativity.
And in politics, this trinity is equally familiar. Think of the separation of powers in constitutional democracies, or of ideological power blocs in international affairs. But as we know in strategy, even the most elegant framework can become a constraint when the world around it changes, and the danger lies in assuming that what once worked will always work.
This brings us to South Africa’s Tripartite Alliance—the political coalition of the African National Congress (ANC), the South African Communist Party (SACP), and the Congress of South African Trade Unions (COSATU). Born from the crucible of the anti-apartheid struggle, the alliance was, in its time, a formidable engine of change. It combined moral legitimacy, political strategy, and grassroots mobilisation in a three-legged stool that helped carry the country into democracy.
But today, as I listened to President Cyril Ramaphosa’s closing remarks at the recent NEC meeting—particularly his resistance to the idea of the SACP running independently in the next election—I was struck by a question we often ask in our strategy sessions: Is the structure still serving the purpose?
In the 21st century, the nature of conflict has changed. The battlefield now spans far beyond boots and bullets. Today’s most effective weapons include algorithms, narratives, and supply chains. China’s People’s Liberation Army, for instance, formally adopted a doctrine of “Three Warfares”: psychological warfare, public opinion warfare, and legal warfare—tools of influence designed to win without fighting.
While South Africa is not engaged in overt conflict, it is nonetheless vulnerable on all three fronts. From cyber vulnerabilities to diplomatic posturing and, most recently, the imposition of 30% US tariffs under the AGOA trade agreement, the country finds itself navigating a new kind of power dynamic. Less visible, but no less destabilising.
In this evolving context, political alliances forged in a different era begin to look like historical artefacts, preserved more for their symbolism than their functionality. The question for us as strategic thinkers is not whether the Tripartite Alliance still commands loyalty, but whether it still enables adaptive governance. Does it enhance South Africa’s ability to respond to complexity, or has it become a mechanism of inertia?
At Mindofafox, when we facilitate strategy sessions—whether with governments, multinational corporations, or civil society organisations—we often challenge our clients to rethink foundational assumptions. One such assumption might be: “We need this alliance to maintain political stability.” But what if, in trying to preserve an outdated form of unity, we are inadvertently impeding the emergence of something more agile, more capable, more future-fit?
Let’s imagine an alternative trinity for South Africa. Not as a political alliance, but as a strategic framework for progress.
Vision: A long-term, coherent perspective that connects today’s decisions with tomorrow’s consequences. Not vision as vague aspiration, but as a discipline—rooted in sustainability, innovation, and foresight.
Justice: Not just legal justice, but economic and social justice too. A framework that values fairness, inclusion, and dignity—without falling into the trap of populist redistribution without productivity.
Competence: The capacity to govern effectively. To deliver. To implement policy. To respond to crises not with slogans, but with strategic agility.
This isn’t a call to dismantle history. It’s a call to move from alliances of ideology and nostalgia toward alliances of capability and intent. South Africa needs leadership that can bridge its historical fault lines without being bound by them.
Of course, the number three still holds value. But its strength lies in how the components relate, not just what they are. As the complexity theorist Edgar Morin reminds us, systems only evolve when contradiction is met with synthesis. That demands dynamism, not dogma.
For business leaders in South Africa and beyond, this matters deeply. Political structures shape everything from market confidence to foreign investment. But more than that, they shape the national story—the story your company, if it is based in South Africa, is part of, whether you like it or not.
A nation’s credibility, like a brand’s, is built not on promises, but on performance. And that’s why those of us in business, strategy, and leadership must care about governance—not only in terms of policy, but in terms of capability.
When alliances become untouchable, they also become unaccountable. When old loyalties override strategic reasoning, the future gets crowded out by the past.
So, what should we do with the rule of three?
We shouldn’t discard it. But neither should we fetishise it. As with any strategy, its value lies in its relevance. Three can be a crowd. Or it can be a chorus. The difference is whether each voice brings clarity, competence, and contribution to the whole.
It’s time we crafted a new story for South Africa; one that doesn’t just echo past struggles, but prepares us for future resilience