At the time of writing, eSwatini was burning – literally and figuratively. The country, which has the dubious distinction of being Africa’s sole absolute monarchy, was engulfed in protests by citizens who are gatvol with an anachronistic system that allows one man and his mother to rule an entire nation. Many businesses, some of which are reportedly part-owned by the king, were torched by the angry protesters.

King Mswati III has been on the throne since 1986 – when he was an 18-year-old – and wields sweeping powers over every aspect of Swati life: he appoints judges, Ministers and top civil servants; he summonses or dissolves Parliament; he passes or blocks legislation; and he owns all land, holding it in trust for the nation. What’s more, he is exempt from taxation and can unilaterally declare a state of emergency. A peculiar clause in the country’s Constitution reads: “Where the King is required by this Constitution to exercise any function after consultation with any other person or authority, the King may or may not exercise that function following that consultation.” Put differently, Mswati can do as he pleases.

It is little wonder then that there has been agitation for a change to the status quo for a very long time, with the latest flare-up being the most daring. Sadly, dozens of protesters – and non-participants – lost their lives as the army launched a brutal pushback.

Did I expect the Southern African Development Community (SADC) and South Africa, as the regional power, to call out the little dictator in eSwatini? Based on past experience, I didn’t. But the governing African National Congress, and by extension the South African government, surprised me. In a statement, the party said: “We call on the government of eSwatini to heed this urgent call by moving away from autocracy, strong-handed crisis management and brutal repression of legitimate civilian concerns.” It added: “We call on the eSwatini government to work towards the normalisation of the political environment by unbanning political and other parties, releasing political activists and engaging in meaningful dialogue with opposition parties, its citizens and trade unions to find a collective solution to the socioeconomic circumstances in the country.”

That’s talking tough. But cynics would argue South Africa adopts this kind of stance only when weaker countries are involved. A case in point would be the South African army’s 1998 invasion of little Lesotho to quell rioting and maintain order. But when there was serious trouble in Zimbabwe in 2008, when the late Robert Mugabe had apparently lost an election by a wide margin and was doing everything he could to remain in power, Pretoria went on mute. One of the tricks Mugabe resorted to was to pretend that Zimbabwe had suddenly become so backward technologically that it needed six weeks to complete the collation of votes. During that period, opposition supporters were subjected to unimaginable atrocities, with hundreds dying. Despite all that, The Pipe Smoking One (aka Thabo Mbeki) had the temerity to claim that “there is no crisis in Zimbabwe”.

And when Joseph Kabila kept postponing elections in the Democratic Republic of Congo – from 2016, when his second and final term ended, to 2018 – the silence from SADC leaders was deafening. The manner in which the 2018 elections were held also left a lot to be desired, with some constituencies denied the opportunity to vote on the pretext that a deadly disease outbreak was ravaging those areas. Again, not a word of protest from the SADC.

The bloc’s West African counterpart, the Economic Community of West African States (Ecowas), has proved on numerous occasions that it’s a different kettle of fish – it suffers no tricks by dictators who don’t want to let go of power. How I wish our SADC was Ecowas.