A MEETING WITH OUR CONSCIENCE

When Silence Becomes Complicity in the Cultural & Creative Industries

An Opinion Piece by Thami akaMbongo Manzana

There is an uncomfortable culture festering within South Africa’s Cultural & Creative Industries: negativity sells, but courage is quarantined.

We are loud when there is scandal.
We are animated when there is gossip.
We are united when someone has passed on.

But when living practitioners confront injustice in real time, we retreat into silence.

This is not coincidence.
It is conditioning.

And it is costing the sector its soul.

Image Source: Artists United

Case Study 1: SAMRO and the Fear of Public Solidarity

Music is one of the most powerful cultural forces in South Africa. It shapes identity, influences politics, and carries the stories of generations.

Yet when serious concerns are raised about governance, transparency, and fairness at the South African Music Rights Organisation (SAMRO), how many musicians publicly stand behind those demanding accountability?

We all hear the private complaints:

“The system is flawed.”
“There are issues.”
“Something needs to change.”

But when it is time to stand visibly and collectively, the industry becomes cautious.

Why?

Is it fear of losing royalty streams?
Fear of exclusion?
Fear of being labelled “difficult”?

If the largest genre in the country cannot mobilise its own practitioners around structural reform, what does that say about our collective courage?

Silence in moments of institutional scrutiny does not protect artists. It protects the system.

Image Source: Freddie Nyathela

Case Study 2: Freddy Nyathela and the Invisible Backbone

For years, Freddy Nyathela has fought for the recognition and rights of technicians — the very people who build our stages, rig our lights, and make productions technically possible.

Technicians are the invisible backbone of every performance.

Yet when the fight for their fair treatment intensifies, the majority of practitioners distance themselves.

Instead of amplifying the substance of the struggle, many focus on the “approach.”

“He could have handled it better.”
“He should have used a different tone.”

But what is the correct tone in a system that has ignored you for years?

When frustration surfaces, we dissect emotion rather than interrogate injustice.

By critiquing the method while ignoring the message, we effectively shield the very structures that disadvantage the practitioners who make our art possible.

Image Source: Vatiswa Ndara

Case Study 3: Vatiswa Ndara and the Cost of Speaking Out

When Vatiswa Ndara publicly challenged contractual and structural injustices within the acting industry, it was not merely a personal grievance.

It was a systemic issue.

It was about how actors are treated.
It was about transparency.
It was about power dynamics within production environments.

Yet many within the industry observed from a distance.

Support was often private.
Public solidarity was measured and cautious.

If a respected actress can be left exposed while challenging injustice, what message does that send to emerging performers?

That speaking out is risky.
That silence is safer.
That survival requires compliance.

When the boldest voices stand alone, it signals to the rest of the industry that self-preservation outweighs collective progress.

The Culture of Posthumous Appreciation

There is another troubling pattern.

We celebrate practitioners most enthusiastically when they are no longer alive.

Tributes flow.
Statements multiply.
Praise becomes poetic.

But when those same practitioners were alive and challenging uncomfortable truths, many of us were quiet.

It is easier to honour bravery when it is no longer disruptive.

Posthumous celebration costs nothing.
Living solidarity demands something.

The “Masters” We Refuse to Name

There is an unspoken hierarchy in the Cultural & Creative Industries — funders, institutions, commissioning bodies, gatekeepers.

Too often, practitioners calculate their public positions based on how those in power will respond.

We do not want to:

Jeopardise funding.
Lose invitations.
Be labelled “difficult.”

So we temper our statements.
We dilute our support.
We retreat into neutrality.

But neutrality in the face of structural injustice is not professional diplomacy. It is quiet complicity.

Image Source: DSAC

Questions for Practitioners

This opinion piece is not an attack. It is an invitation to introspection.

Do you privately agree with reform efforts but publicly remain silent?
Do you critique activists’ tone because their courage exposes your fear?
Are you protecting your career at the expense of the industry’s future?
When injustice surfaces, do you stand with individuals — or with institutions?

Most importantly:

Are we willing to sacrifice the long-term health of the Cultural & Creative Industries for short-term personal security?

A Meeting With Our Conscience

Survival is real. We all want to work. We all want stability.

But if survival requires us to sell the soul of the industry — to abandon those challenging injustice, to protect systems we know are flawed — then we must ask:

What exactly are we surviving for?

An industry built on fear cannot sustain creativity.
A sector sustained by silence cannot claim transformation.

Negativity may sell.
Silence may protect access.

But neither builds justice.

The Cultural & Creative Industries in South Africa need more than talent. They need courage.

And courage is not measured by what we say at memorial services.

It is measured by what we are willing to say — and risk — while the fight is still unfolding.

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