Nkosikhulule Nyembezi
Khanyisa Dunjwa
[ Dr Nkosikhulule Xhawulengweni Nyembezi is a policy analyst and human rights activist. Khanyisa Dunjwa is a social justice activist, writer, social commentator. She writes on politics, gender justice, and health. She is a founder of “Khanyisa Dunjwa Writes”, a boutique writing service focused on policy and advocacy.]
What is in a surname? That is a dominating question now that men can now assume their wives’ surnames after the Constitutional Court ruled on September 11 that section 26(1) of the Registration of Births and Deaths Act and regulation 18(2)(a) are unfair, as the law fails to afford men the right to assume their wives’ surnames, and unconstitutional, as they unfairly discriminate against men and women, based on gender. In the case of men, they are deprived of the ability to take their wives’ surnames if they so wish.
“In the case of women, the effects of this scheme are far more insidious. “It is not merely so that they are deprived of the right to have their surnames serve as the family surname where their husbands wish to take that surname. “It also reinforces patriarchal gender norms, which prescribe how women may express their identity, and it makes this expression relational to their husband, as a governmental and cultural default,” the ruling stated. The court found that this limitation of equality cannot be sustained under section 36 of the constitution, and declared the law and regulation were unconstitutional, and gave the president, cabinet, and parliament 24 months to either amend the law or pass a new law to ensure that men are afforded the right to assume another surname. What is it about this decision that invoked the OR Tambo Local House of Traditional Leaders to convene a special sitting the following day, where members denounced the judgment as “disgusting”, “anti- African”?
What is objectionable in a human rights-affirming decision affording men the ability to take their wives’ surnames if they so wish as to label it a “recipe for chaos and confusion” and as an instrument to undermine African cultural practices, eroding family identity and threatening succession norms? I came across this debate in seminars at the University of Cape Town and the University of the Western Cape, as research shows that an estimated 6% of men in SA choose to turn gender stereotyping on its head when they get married.
Understanding their reasons and whether they regret it reveals how personal identity is evolving in our democracy, as even children who attended multiracial schools have acquired a subset of unique identities distinguishable from those of their parents and many other household family members. While marriages between opposite- sex couples have been in gradual decline in SA since the early 2000s, the vast majority of wives still take their husbands’ surnames. Though there are no available statistics for the different ethnic groups, men married to Zulu and Swati princesses are conspicuously assimilated into their wives’ surnames and customs, and their children get the royal titles of princes and princesses.
To this subset of individuals, this court decision is uncontroversial. For some men, across race and ethnicity, whose lives will be impacted by this court decision, the decision to ‘informally’ take their wife’s surname begins as an aesthetic one, as they make a choice against what they feel is an antiquated practice. General perceptions of friends and family members of men willing to take their wives’ surnames often reflect the prevailing societal gender norms. Conservative friends and family members generally view these men as “timid” or “submissive” and holding less power within the relationship. They have a limited understanding of the complex driving factors and perceive women as more powerful if they keep their surnames or use a double-barrelled surname.
Following this court decision, it will not be long before men taking their wives’ surnames emerge as a new normal, even though heterosexual traditions are so embedded in our society. Encouragingly, fewer people are turning away from marriage and are actively acting to reform the institution. In the case of SA’s younger generation, men willing to take their wives’ surnames were never attached to their surnames and appear to be doing so as part of a wider reconfiguring of their family’s identity, especially those coming from blended families with siblings introduced by separated, divorced, or remarried parents.
Though husbands willing to take their wives’ surnames can expect family members to be taken aback when they first mention the decision, the reactions can be positive too, with some relatives even affirmingly labelling them as “modern men”. What is clear is that for these men, the decision to take on their wives’ surnames is more nuanced than just protesting against patriarchal systems or responding to their wives’ choice to keep their own surname— albeit one from their fathers. It is the individual’s constitutional right to exercise their freedom of conscience in defining their identity, instead of being roped into traditions that do not always make much sense to them. When the priest announces the newlyweds at the end of their wedding as Mr and Mrs Nonkonyane, we can expect that people will gasp and think the husband has made a terrible mistake. Within a short time, more people will increasingly accommodate and embrace people freely making their own identity choices and decisions. Women should do what they feel is best for them. If they want to take their husband’s surname, that should be fine, but so is a man taking their wife’s or both of you choosing different ones.
People exaggerate it when it is just a surname. What matters most is what you do with it and how you give it meaning. Above all, this court decision and the law it mandates parliament to pass is a human rights milestone we should all celebrate. It forces no-one to do anything they do not like but instead affords men the ability to take their wives’ surnames if they so wish.
