The government can become so elitist and concentrate on elitist

When Winnie Madikizela-Mandela declared, “The government can become so elitist and concentrate on elitist interests. To help the government, you must constantly hold its attention,” she spoke with the voice of one who had walked through fire — one who had seen how power forgets, how authority, once born of the people, can slowly turn its face away from them. Her words carry the gravity of lived experience: the wisdom of a woman who fought against tyranny, endured exile and imprisonment, and yet never ceased to remind her nation that freedom must be guarded, not granted.

The origin of this quote lies in the brutal years of apartheid and its aftermath in South Africa. Winnie Mandela — wife of Nelson Mandela, but a revolutionary in her own right — saw firsthand how governments, even those founded on noble ideals, could lose sight of justice when surrounded by comfort, privilege, and power. The struggle for liberation had demanded unimaginable sacrifice, but when victory was won, new dangers arose. The new rulers began to mirror the old oppressors in subtle ways — attending to elitist interests, forgetting the poor, the broken, and the voiceless. Winnie’s warning was therefore not merely political; it was spiritual. She was saying: every government, no matter how righteous at birth, must be held accountable by its people — always.

To “hold the government’s attention” is not an act of defiance, but of civic love. For a government is like a great flame: it burns brightest when fueled by the watchful breath of its citizens, but dims when left unguarded. When the governed fall silent, power becomes deaf. Winnie understood that freedom dies not through sudden tyranny, but through quiet neglect — when the people withdraw, when they stop demanding, questioning, and reminding their leaders of their duty. To help a government truly serve, one must constantly call it back to its purpose, as a shepherd calls back a wandering flock.

History is rich with examples of this truth. In ancient Rome, the Republic fell not in a single stroke, but gradually, as the Senate drifted from the needs of the common man to the whims of the elite. Bread and circuses replaced justice and virtue. The people, numbed by spectacle, ceased to hold their rulers to account — and thus, Caesar rose where the citizen once stood. Likewise, in modern times, countless revolutions have birthed new governments that forgot their origins, becoming the very forces they once opposed. Winnie’s insight cuts across centuries: without the constant vigilance of the governed, power always gravitates toward privilege.

Her words also reflect her own life’s battle — one not only against apartheid’s cruelty but against complacency after victory. She saw how movements can lose their soul when their leaders begin to live above those they once served. In her later years, she became a symbol of the uncomfortable conscience — a voice that refused to flatter, a reminder that liberation is not the end of struggle, but its renewal. For the duty of freedom is not to rest, but to remember. The oppressed must not become the oppressors, and justice must never become the privilege of a few.

There is a deep emotional wisdom in her statement: that true loyalty to one’s nation is not blind obedience, but active guardianship. To “help the government,” as she said, is not to praise it without question, but to challenge it in love — to keep its gaze fixed on the people it serves. When a nation’s citizens cease to engage, corruption thrives in the shadows. But when the people rise, united and vigilant, the light of truth returns, and the government remembers that it exists not for itself, but for those who placed it in power.

The lesson of Winnie Madikizela-Mandela’s words is as clear as it is eternal: freedom without participation is an illusion. Democracy is not a gift to be admired, but a flame to be tended — with courage, with truth, with relentless attention. Each generation must learn anew that silence is the ally of corruption, and that to love one’s country is to speak when others would sleep.

Therefore, let her teaching be passed down as a sacred charge: do not abandon your watch. Speak, question, demand. Do not fear to remind the powerful of their duty, for in doing so you protect the soul of your nation. Governments rise and fall, but the people — the vigilant, the unyielding, the awake — are eternal. And as long as they hold the attention of power, justice will remember its face, and liberty will endure.