In the light of the Department of Basic Education’s proposed BELA regulations, ordinary South Africans are once again confronted with a stark choice: do we allow the state to tighten its continued strangling grip over our daily lives, or do we insist that communities remain the rightful custodians of their and their children’s own futures?
The Department of Basic Education’s proposed BELA Regulations reveal the answer that the government clearly prefers: more centralized control and less community-driven, democratic decision-making. Disguised under the cover of “standardisation,” these proposed BELA regulations amount to nothing less than a power grab—an attempt to strip parents and school governing bodies of the authority guaranteed to them by the Constitution. These regulations risk turning education into a politicised battleground, rather than an environment of learning, growth and innovation. This is particularly clear in the provisions granting disproportionate powers to provincial Heads of Department (HoDs) enabling them to override school governing bodies (SGBs) on key matters such as admissions, feeder zones and language policies, all at the unchecked discretion of the HoD.
At the very heart of the proposed regulations lies a dangerous principle: the belief that bureaucrats know better than communities and those who live in these communities themselves about the educational needs and aspirations of the specific community. Under Clause 6.1 of the BELA regulations, provincial Heads of Department (HoDs) would have the power to override local admission decisions, using vague criteria such as “practicability.” In plain English, this means that carefully considered policies by elected school governing bodies which have the interest of all learners attending the school at heart could be cast aside at a politician’s whim.
Clause 21 goes even further, granting HoDs carte blanche to redraw feeder zones for any school within the province, based on nebulous “population projections”. This is not planning—it is political engineering. It is a tool ripe for abuse, allowing ideologically-driven reshaping of school demographics without transparency or consultation with the very communities, parents and learners affected by these decisions. And as if that weren’t enough, Section 5.7 gives provincial departments the authority to impose language changes, undermining mother-tongue education and eroding one of the most effective tools for learning.
This once again clearly shows that the government is more interested in ideological language and scoring political points than actually addressing the core issues prevalent in our education system, such as crumbling infrastructure, inadequate teaching resources and the high dropout rate in our basic education sector.
These regulations are not mere administrative tweaks; they are a frontal assault on democratic school governance eroding the voice of local communities in basic education. The beauty of South Africa’s education system, at least in principle, lies in its embrace of shared responsibility: parents, educators, and communities working together as a collective to shape schools that speak to and serve their children’s specific needs, based on the needs of the particular community. By overriding the autonomy of SGBs, the state risks turning classrooms into another politicised battleground, where political power and political considerations, not pupils, come first.
We have seen this movie of centralization and government overreach all too many times before. Vaguely worded policies, unclear and ambiguous language, rushed public consultations, and sweeping centralisation are how the South African government has smuggled ideology into everyday life, and it is doing so once again. If this playbook succeeds in education, there is no doubt that it will not stop there. Today it is school admissions; tomorrow it could be community policing, healthcare, or local economic planning. As citizens we need to make our voices heard now, before this tendency towards centralization further spirals out of control.
A call to parents and citizens
The real question before us is not about feeder zones or admission criteria, but it is equally important. The real question is about who decides. Do parents and communities retain the overriding say in how their children are educated, or do politicians and bureaucrats impose their will from their ivory towers above?
As South Africans we must stand unequivocally with parents, teachers, and communities, the primary decision-makers on what happens in our classrooms. They, not politicians acting in their own interest, are positioned to understand the specific needs and desires of the learners and the local community.
Protect the classroom, protect democracy
The classroom is where our children learn not only mathematics and languages, but also citizenship. If we allow the state to hollow out democratic governance here, we risk raising a generation accustomed to silence rather than participation and active citizenship.
This is bigger than education. It is about the future of democratic life in South Africa. Parents must decide, not politicians. Parents and communities as a collective should be the primary movers influencing decision-makers.
