Tara Roos
Basic Education Laws Amendment (Bela) Act is being framed as a legislative leap toward Sustainable Development Goal 4 (SDG 4) to ensure quality education for all.
Positioned as a bold reform to modernise the country’s deeply unequal education system, the act promises to address governance, admissions, language policy, and learner safety. It claims to align South Africa with the global education targets set out by the UN.
But the question that lingers is whether this ambitious legislative move is a genuine step toward educational equity or a bureaucratic overreach cloaked in high-minded ideals.
South Africa’s education system is, without question, in a state of crisis.
Despite the government allocating around 6.6% of its GDP to education – one of the highest levels globally according to the World Bank – the outcomes remain abysmal.
Year after year, South Africa consistently ranks among the worst in international assessments of literacy, maths and science. The brunt of this failure is borne by the poorest learners, particularly those in rural and township schools, where underqualified teachers, inadequate infrastructure, and overcrowded classrooms are the norm. Violence, drug use and the legacy of apartheid spatial planning continue to haunt these institutions.
The Bela Act, on paper, offers solutions that appear to be aligned with SDG4’s call for inclusive and equitable education. The act mandates GradeR as compulsory, a move that could indeed address early childhood education – one of the cornerstones of foundational learning.
It also outlaws corporal punishment and emphasises the importance of safe, non-violent learning environments. These are positive steps. But beneath these noble intentions lies a more complicated and potentially dangerous reality.
One of the act’s most touted reforms is its provision that language policies and learner admissions will now be subject to the approval of the head of department (HOD). The rationale is to prevent exclusionary practices at schools that have historically catered to specific linguistic or cultural groups – especially in areas marked by linguistic diversity.
While the intent here is inclusivity, the approach could easily tip into a form of bureaucratic authoritarianism.
Centralising control of language policy and admissions risks alienating local communities who have traditionally had a say in how their schools are run.
Sceptics of the act are sounding alarms about this, including those inside the Minister of Education’s party. School Governing Bodies (SGBs) – made up of parents, teachers, and community members – have long played a key role in shaping school policy, from admissions to language instruction.
These bodies ensure that schools meet the needs of their local communities. By handing this power to the HOD, the government is effectively disempowering those who are most invested in the success of their local schools.
The act’s impact on Afrikaans-medium schools, in particular, has sparked debate. Forcing these schools to adopt additional languages of instruction may seem progressive, but it could erode the cultural identity of these institutions without addressing the more significant issue – the chronic shortage of schools across the country.
Afrikaans schools represent only about 5% of schools nationwide. This together with approximately 5.2 million (26.6%) children of school-going age not enrolled in a school at present – according to the 2022 census – the deficit of children not receiving an education extends far beyond those not being able to access 5% of the schools due to the language of instruction.
The future of education does not lie solely in legislative reform.
It requires a collaborative approach without which, the Bela Act will just become another in a long line of well-intentioned, but ultimately ineffective, policies that fail to address the real challenges facing South Africans.
* Roos is a policy writer, researcher, and political analyst, who is serving as a United Nations Youth Ambassador for Education (SDG 4).
Cape Times