
Profits before people: How the liquor industry undermines reforms
The liquor industry's resistance to reforms and public health measures aimed at curbing South Africa's high alcohol consumption reveals a deep divide between corporate interests and the public good.
A new study published in
Globalisation and Health
sheds fresh light on how the industry flexed its financial and political muscle at the National Economic Development and Labour Council (Nedlac) to protect its profits with little regard for the devastating effect of alcohol on society.
First released for public comment in 2016, the Liquor Amendment Bill proposed several changes: raising the legal drinking age from 18 to 21, comprehensive restrictions on alcohol advertising, sponsorships and promotions, as well as limiting sales within 500 metres of schools and places of worship.
Researchers analysing Nedlac's meeting records on the Bill found that the industry exercised 'regulatory capture' by flooding committees with representatives, punting self-regulation over public policy interventions and using financial leverage to keep the Bill from reaching parliament. Community representation at these meetings was woefully low or absent compared with that of business, government and labour.
As part of these stalling tactics, industry giants such as Heineken and AB InBev commissioned two socio-economic impact studies of the Bill. One of these assessments discredited the conclusions of the government-initiated study that showed clear public health benefits from tighter regulation.
While Nedlac concluded discussions on the Bill some years ago, it still hasn't reached parliament, and there is no indication by the department of trade, industry and competition of when this will happen.
These revelations about the alcohol industry's strong objections to some of the proposed changes in the bill are sobering. South Africa has among the highest rates of alcohol consumption in the world. A 2019 Human Sciences Research Council (HSRC) study, based on a sample of 3500 adolescents, found that nearly 70% of young people between the ages of 11 and 18 had already consumed alcohol. Most had tasted their first drink at the ages of 13 and 14.
The Soul City Institute's 2017 study found that school-aged youths were bombarded with alcohol advertising from billboards and TV. Outlet density is also a major concern. In the same study, Atteridgeville, home to 60,000 according to the 2011 census, had no less than 147 taverns.
Evidence suggests a direct link: the more alcohol outlets in an area, the greater the risk of early initiation to alcohol. This is especially true for poor communities with limited social infrastructure to keep young people engaged and connected.
Sobering as they are, the industry's actions are hardly surprising.
These tactics are part of the industry's playbook globally. According to a report called From Sports to Screens – Exposing Big Alcohol's Predatory Practices in 2024, the industry employs strategies such as targeted adverts for people seeking online help with alcohol dependence; marketing 0% alcohol drinks to gain a foothold in spaces where alcohol consumption is not the norm; sponsoring major sporting events; and courting politicians to enact laws in the industry's interests.
Despite the World Health Organisation's (WHO) efforts to promote evidence-based policies to reduce alcohol harms, the industry often disregards its recommendations. A striking example is the growing trend of alcohol sold in larger containers, like the one-litre beer, despite the WHO's explicit warnings against this.
These predatory practices are not new. In our country, alcohol has long been entangled with racist oppression and economic dispossession. Black women who flocked to the cities searching for independent incomes after mining and manufacturing uprooted men from all over Southern Africa established independent livelihoods selling
skokiaan
or
utywala
. These activities flourished under the watchful eye of a state that criminalised black people for consuming the 'white man's liquor'.
But this independence was short-lived. The state soon clamped down, creating a municipal monopoly on the sale of sorghum beer. Municipal beer halls — perched conveniently along major train stations — became symbols of control and exploitation. It was no accident that the municipal beer halls became targets of the wrath of the 1976 youth.
The wine industry, too, carries this bitter legacy. The notorious dop system — a labour regime that compensated workers with cheap wine — directly contributed to alcoholism in farming communities across the Western and Northern Capes.
This imbrication of alcohol and racial domination is also a global story. A recent book by political scientist Mark Lawrence Schrad,
Smashing the Liquor Machine: A Global History of Prohibitio
n, contests the idea that the prohibition movements of 19th and 20th century America were exclusive domains of white supremacists.
At the forefront of these movements, he argues, were those who bore the brunt of ordinary people's subservience to a lethal substance — women, native Americans and black people. Far from being moral crusades against sin, these movements emerged as a response to predatory capitalism.
Yet these revelations of regulatory capture barely caused a public storm. Why?
One possibility is that there is political fatigue around the issue. The Young Communist League, which earned the ire of liquor traders in the 2000s by calling for the closure of shebeens near schools, has long abandoned the issue. The ANC Youth League no longer campaigns against glamourising alcohol through deceptive adverts. And although the Economic Freedom Fighters' early legislative efforts included a private member's Bill to ban alcohol advertising, some of its provincial structures are now cosying up to the liquor industry.
The second possibility is that there is no cohesion in government about what needs to be done to address alcohol harms, with fierce contestation over concerns about jobs and trade versus public health and broader social impacts.
The third could be the industry's success in framing excessive alcohol consumption as a personal issue, solved by 'responsible drinking', rather than a clash between public good and global corporate power.
Even so, encouraging efforts are taking shape to challenge the status quo. Among those pushing back against the power of the predatory industry is the jazz collective iPhupho L'Ka Biko, whose Amanzi Sessions create space to challenge ritualised alcohol consumption. Sonke Gender Justice's work highlights the link between alcohol and domestic violence, while DG Murray Trust's 'rethink your drink' campaign continues to call for a shift in national policy.
To succeed in reining in the alcohol industry, membership-based organisations with a nationwide presence, such as trade unions and political parties, must step up to loosen the industry's grip on policy. A good step forward would be to pressure the government to revive the Liquor Amendment Bill.
Phindile Kunene is an activist, political educator and head of democracy and political culture at the Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung. She writes in her personal capacity.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Mail & Guardian
8 hours ago
- Mail & Guardian
Murder as a message: When assassins set the local government agenda
Killing fields: More people in local government are murdered in KwaZulu-Natal than anywhere else in the country. Photo: Paul Botes Let's not tiptoe around it — local government in South Africa has become a killing field. In the past five years alone, 37 municipal officials and 59 councillors have been murdered across the country, according to official data compiled by These statistics are not merely numbers; they represent a deeply disturbing signal of the erosion of democratic governance and public accountability at the very foundation of our state. The recent assassinations of municipal officials in Gauteng and KwaZulu-Natal — two of the most affected provinces — underscore the climate of fear that is spreading through local government. In Gauteng, 11 officials were murdered in the 2019-to-2024 period. In KwaZulu-Natal, the number climbs to 17. These figures do not include attempted assassinations, threats, or acts of intimidation, which are becoming chillingly routine. Such violence is not random. It is systemic and often politically motivated — used to silence whistleblowers, intimidate reformers and secure control over lucrative tenders and municipal budgets. South Africa's municipalities have become sites of both political patronage and contestation, where violence is increasingly a tool of influence. Local government is meant to be the sphere closest to the people, but in many places, it is also the most dysfunctional. The In recent cases, murdered officials have often been linked to procurement investigations, disciplinary processes and efforts to clamp down on corruption. In 2022, the killing of a municipal finance officer in Tshwane was reportedly tied to revelations about misallocated Covid-19 relief funds. Earlier, a whistleblower in Harry Gwala district municipality was gunned down after raising concerns about irregular housing tenders. Yet, even as these patterns emerge, arrests remain rare and convictions even more so. This impunity reinforces a dangerous message — violence pays in South African politics. To understand this crisis, one must examine not only who is being targeted, but also who is being protected. While councillors and municipal staff are frequently exposed and unprotected, high-ranking party operatives often benefit from enhanced state security. The lack of parity in protection reinforces existing hierarchies and undermines the professionalisation of local administration. A 2024 report by the The violence is enabled by a toxic culture of political patronage, in which local government jobs are awarded based on party loyalty rather than merit. According to These systems create a fragile loyalty network, where internal dissent is not only punished with demotion or expulsion, but increasingly with death. This pattern is especially visible in factional party structures, where internal competition can turn deadly. The failure of party-political mechanisms to manage these internal contests is pushing the contestation into the public arena — with tragic consequences. Every murdered official leaves behind a community further alienated from public service. In KwaZulu-Natal's Umzimkhulu municipality, the 2017 assassination of Sindi Dlathu, a courageous audit committee chairperson, remains unresolved. Her death left a void in financial oversight, with reports indicating a rise in irregular expenditure in the next two financial years. Local civil society groups, such as Despite the gravity of these attacks, South Africa lacks a coherent, nationwide local government protection framework. The Compare this to Colombia and Mexico — two countries with equally alarming patterns of local political violence. Both have specialised protection programmes for at-risk public officials, coordinated by national bodies that integrate intelligence, police protection and community liaison strategies. South Africa must develop a similarly targeted response, not only to protect lives, but to safeguard democratic institutions at the community level. What's perhaps most concerning is how normalised these killings have become in our public discourse. News headlines read more like gangland reports than governance alerts. Public outrage is often fleeting. The victims are frequently forgotten, their deaths buried beneath bureaucratic inertia or party spin. South Africa cannot afford to continue down this path. Protecting local government officials from violence is not only a matter of personal security, but one of national stability. A democracy where fear silences dissent is not a democracy at all. Municipal officials are the frontline workers of governance. Their murder is a message — and one we can no longer ignore. Dr Lesedi Senamele Matlala is a governance researcher and lecturer at the School of Public Management, Governance and Public Policy, University of Johannesburg. He writes on public policy, evaluation and digital governance in Africa.

The Herald
10 hours ago
- The Herald
'He still has not come here': Mpofu says Ramaphosa still owes Marikana families an apology
Workers and Socialist Party (WASP) and Socialist Youth Movement (SYM) are demanding justice for the Marikana massacre victims and want the alleged killers prosecuted, including President Cyril Ramaphosa and police commanders. Saturday marked the 13th anniversary of the massacre when 34 mineworkers were killed by police during a strike at Lonmin Mine in Marikana in North West. Mineworkers had downed tools and participated in unprotected wage strikes. A total of 44 people lost their lives during the strike. Police allegedly shot 34 on August 16 2012. WASP and SYM believe the massacre was not a police operation that went wrong, claiming it was a deliberate act of violence to protect the profits of Lonmin (now Sibanye-Stillwater) and the capitalist mining industry. 'In its execution, it was premeditated. The ANC government, under Jacob Zuma, deployed police to crush worker resistance, proving once and for all that the ANC is no longer a movement for liberation but a bloody instrument of mining monopoly capital,' said WASP national executive committee member Mametlwe Sebei. Sebie said WASP and SYM were demanding the nationalisation of the mines under workers' control and a living wage for all workers — a R15,000 minimum wage now and a universal basic income grant of R1,500. He said Cosatu should break away from the ANC, as should all trade unions aligned with other capitalist parties, to unite into a united working class front, and a mass workers' party to fight for socialism. 'Even today, no-one has been held accountable. Cyril Ramaphosa, then a Lonmin director who called for 'concomitant action' against the strikers, is now president — showing the ANC's true allegiance. The Farlam commission was a whitewash and the police and politicians who ordered the killings remain free,' Seabi said.

The Herald
10 hours ago
- The Herald
News anchor apologises for 'disrespectful' barb about ANC spokesperson
'Self-entitled condescension at its pitiful level. Embarrassed at such lack of class. The ANC communications [team] has a great rapport with eNCA colleagues. The sandwich marshall [Barnes] cannot fathom,' she wrote, adding a rolling on the floor laughing emoji. In his apology, Barnes said: '[...] At the time, I thought I was being cheeky and clever, but I have since been made to realise how deep those comments cut. The comments touched on [the] very issues we are talking about at the national convention — issues of race, identity, the lack of mutual respect, but they also cut very personally.