The courts have spoken. And this time, finally

With the Constitutional Court refusingPrince Simakade kaZwelithini leave to appeal, citing no prospects of success, the last legal avenue to challenge King Misuzulu kaZwelithini’s reign has closed. His Majesty, King Misuzulu stands not only as the recognised monarch of the Zulu nation, but as a king whose legitimacy has been tested at every judicial level and affirmed each time. The law has done what it does when tradition fractures into factions.

It has drawn a line, restored finality, and closed the door. For some, this is closure. For others, it is discomfort.

For the monarchy itself, it is a moment that demands reflection. Because succession disputes are not new to the Zulu kingdom. They are as old as the crown itself.

[paywall]

The idea that hereditary succession unfolds smoothly is a comforting myth. Zulu history tells a different story. Nodumehlezi kaMenzi (King Shaka) did not inherit power peacefully.

He seized it. UVemvane lukaPhunga noMageba (King Dingane) assassinated Shaka. USomnandi kaNdaba (King Mpande) rose through civil war.

UJinindi Omnyama’s (King Cetshwayo’s) authority was contested long before colonial invasion shattered the kingdom’s sovereignty. Succession was never merely about blood. It was about recognition, consensus, and survival.

Disputes over the throne were not deviations from tradition. They were embedded within it. What has changed is not the instinct to contest power, but the terrain on which that contest plays out.

Once, succession battles were settled with assegais and shields, with regiments clashing and blood soaking into the soil of KwaZulu-Natal. Today, they are fought with affidavits, senior counsel, and court orders. The battlefield has shifted from open plains to courtrooms.

The weapons are no longer spears, but legal arguments. The war cries are no longer praise poems, but hashtags.Yet the logic remains the same. Power is contested where it matters most.

Nco Dube, a political economist, businessman and social commentator Prince Simakade and his supporters argued lineage, custom, leadership qualities, and procedural fairness. They challenged meetings, questioned quorums, disputed interpretations of customary law, and sought intervention from the President, ministers, and courts. But conviction has never been enough to win a succession battle.

What ultimately defeated the challenge was alignment. Custom, statute, and executive authority converged. The identification process was found to comply with customary law as recognised by legislation.

The President’s recognition followed statutory requirements. Prior judgments had already settled key questions. The apex court’s refusal was not dramatic.

It was clinical. No prospects of success. In historical terms, this was the modern equivalent of the last battle being fought and lost.In earlier centuries, this would have been the moment when rivals either submitted or faded into history.

Today, submission takes the form of legal exhaustion. One of the most persistent undercurrents in this dispute has been the argument that Prince Simakade would have been a better leader. It is an argument worth examining, but not weaponising.

Leadership ability has always mattered in Zulu history. Weak kings did not last. Strong ones reshaped the kingdom.

Yet leadership ability has never been the sole criterion for succession. Bloodline, ritual legitimacy, and the endorsement of elders have always carried decisive weight.

[/paywall]