A MORNING OF SHATTERED ILLUSIONS: THE EFF´S POLITICAL EARTHQUAKE

This morning, I was jolted from my sleep by a phone call that would shake my world.

A friend, clearly agitated, asked me what was happening with the EFF. Still half-asleep, I struggled to piece together my thoughts between yawns. We had made a pact to stay away from social media and the whirlwind of polarizing politics. But little did I know, the news my friend was about to share would be something I desperately wished to be false.

He dropped the bombshell: rumors were swirling across social media that EFF Deputy President Floyd Shivambu had resigned from the party. I was shattered—no, more than that—I was devastated. Not Floyd. Not the ideological pillar of our generation. The rest of the morning felt like a fever dream as we tried to theorize what could have driven Floyd to make such a decision.

What did this mean for the future of the EFF? And more importantly, what did it mean for the bond between Floyd and Julius Malema? The hours crawled by, each one more agonizing than the last, as we waited for the EFF’s press conference at noon. In that time, I reached out to friends and comrades, both locally and in South Africa, trying to make sense of the chaos. I had been on a social media sabbatical, and it felt like I had missed everything.

The very idea of Floyd betraying Malema—or the reverse—was unthinkable. For over 15 years, I had watched their comradeship blossom into something deeper, something akin to brotherhood. They had weathered countless storms together, complementing each other like a well-oiled machine. Malema was the roll to the Royce, the yin to the yang, and together, they had inspired a continent.

Surely, they would consider the bigger picture before making any rash decisions. As I watched Malema during the press conference, my heart sank. There, before our eyes, was a man defeated—struggling to hold himself together in the face of what now seemed an undeniable betrayal. All morning, I had speculated that the rift had been between Malema and Floyd.

But I was wrong. Malema himself had only learned about Floyd's resignation the day before and had tried, in vain, to persuade him otherwise. Floyd, too, looked angry, resentful, and perhaps even betrayed. The table they sat at, metaphorically and literally, was split in half—a stark symbol of a party bleeding from its deepest wound yet. Betrayal, a wound deeper than any inflicted by physical harm, has been a recurring theme throughout history, literature, and personal relationships.

It’s a profound human experience that leaves scars, often unhealed, in the hearts of those who experience it. Through the lens of historical figures and cultural narratives, we can better understand the enduring pain that betrayal brings and the complex emotions tied to it. I can understand the pain of both Floyd and Malema and cannot judge who betrayed who save to say that history is replete with many chapters of such seismic political shifts that see two of the most loved protagonists go separate ways.


Those who remember the great Cuban July movement still speak of how difficult it was when they learned that Che Guevara was resigning from his role in Cuba. Che, a key figure in the Cuban Revolution, was seen as a loyal comrade of Fidel Castro. Together, they overthrew the Batista regime and worked to establish a socialist government in Cuba. However, as time passed, Che began to feel alienated from the revolution he had helped to create.

In his farewell letter to Castro, Che expressed his deep sense of disenchantment and the feeling that the Cuban revolution was straying from its original ideals. His resignation was not just a political decision but a profound personal statement—a reflection of the deep pain he felt in seeing his revolutionary dreams crumble under the weight of geopolitical realities and ideological compromises.

The bond between Che and Fidel was never the same, and Che’s subsequent death in Bolivia added a tragic end to the narrative of a once-unbreakable camaraderie. One of the most poignant examples of betrayal in modern history is the fractured relationship between Elijah Muhammad and Malcolm X. For years, Malcolm X was a devoted follower and protégé of Elijah Muhammad, the leader of the Nation of Islam. Malcolm saw in Elijah a mentor and a father figure, someone who offered him guidance, purpose, and a sense of belonging during a time of intense racial and social turmoil in America.

However, the bond between the two men began to unravel as Malcolm X grew increasingly disillusioned with Elijah Muhammad's actions and the Nation of Islam’s direction. Discovering that Elijah Muhammad had engaged in behaviours that contradicted the very moral teachings of the organisation, Malcolm felt betrayed on a personal and ideological level.

This rift ultimately led to Malcolm X leaving the Nation of Islam and embracing a broader vision of the civil rights struggle. The pain of this betrayal was not just a personal blow but also a catalyst for Malcolm's transformation into a global human rights leader. Yet, the betrayal left an indelible mark, one that contributed to the tragic end of his life. I recently got fascinated with the life lessons of Curtis James Jackson III, known professionally as 50 Cent. The American rapper, actor, television producer, and businessman is a fascinating human being who has valuable lessons about life, business, friendships, music etc.

When I was going through my own transition and dealing with a lot of personal issues, I found 50 cents books to be a worthy read for anyone undergoing some form of transformation. The pain of betrayal is explored in Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson’s book, Hustle Harder, Hustle Smarter. In this memoir, 50 Cent delves into his experiences with betrayal in both his personal life and his business ventures. He talks about how those he once trusted turned against him, leading to profound lessons on loyalty and self-preservation.

For 50 Cent, betrayal is not just a momentary lapse in judgment by others, but a recurring theme that has shaped his outlook on life and success. The book serves as a cautionary tale about the importance of loyalty and the harsh realities of trusting others in a cutthroat world. 50 Cent’s insights reveal the scars left by betrayal and the resilience required to move forward without losing sight of one’s goals.

His experiences underscore a universal truth: betrayal is a test of character, one that can either break or strengthen the bonds of loyalty. The pain of betrayal is a universal experience, transcending time, culture, and context. Whether it’s the dissolution of a political alliance, the shattering of a personal relationship, or the loss of trust in a mentor, betrayal cuts deeply and leaves lasting emotional scars. It’s a reminder of the fragility of human connections and the importance of trust, loyalty, and integrity.

Each time I look at Floyd and Malema I cannot help but recall the timeless quote by Malcom X that “To me, the thing that is worse than death is betrayal. You see, I could conceive death, but I could not conceive betrayal.” Events in EFF cut deep!! But what can we say, in politics there are no permanent friends and no permanent enemies just permanent interests!