The whisky ad and the Women’s March: When the struggle becomes a marketing campaign

I tried to imagine the room where the decision was made to use the 1956 Women’s March as an advert for selling the Glenlivet whisky. I wanted to assume goodwill so I imagined that those around the table had some knowledge of South Africa’s history. Not a lot but enough to think that using history to “honour” the story of the past while selling expensive alcohol to women was a good idea. That using a beautiful woman reflecting and toasting to the images of historic figures was in good taste because there’s an element of style and sophistication in the advert. But my goodwill came short because, as criticism has pointed out, there’s something deeply troubling and problematic about the advert.

As a historian and a lover of whisky I found myself deeply annoyed by the advert. As annoyed as I was back in 2015 when I wrote about Rémy Martin’s campaign for selling a particular kind of masculinity back then. I am not naive to the fact that where consumption and capitalism are concerned, there are no holy cows. If anything, sometimes the point is to be as irreverent as possible in order to get people’s attention and capture their psyche in order for them to consume more. In the case of Glenlivet’s advert, the idea that Dineo Moeketsi Langa is toasting to honour the women of the past while reflecting on their story loses the significance and the pain of the past. We know the stories of the beerhalls and what they did to black communities. We know the struggles of “skokiaan queens” and their brewing and selling of alcohol to feed their families. Risking arrest. We know about the dop system on wine farms whose consequences are felt generations later. Or do we?

The outrage at the advert indicates that some South Africans understand the weight of history. Despite the devaluing of the humanities in some quarters, people’s response to the advert highlights the importance of a sharpened historical consciousness, critical thinking and debate. People understand that history is not a gimmick to sell products. This might be about a whisky advert but every year many have been watching in dismay at the depoliticisation of history, particularly when it comes to women’s history. Earlier last month, while presenting a seminar about the ongoing struggles of black women in 1957, one of the audience members posed this very question: what does it mean to make Women’s Day and Women’s Month about discounts, spa days, self-care, empowerment and pampering?

But I also want to look askance at this advert. Is it possible that some of the historic women could enjoy a glass of alcohol to toast their own special occasions or even gather for a glass of something, or was their life all struggle with no moment of reprieve? The larger-than-life images employed in the advert had me wondering how the women themselves would respond to the advert. The use of photography to invoke the presence of the past had me thinking about the isithunzi of these women: their shadow and presence that lingers in the commemorative work we do to honour their names. And then I went down the rabbit hole of thoughts about cultural uses of alcohol to honour ancestors (though Mam’Sophie de Bruyn is still alive). Perhaps the whisky could be a modern take on traditional beer modified for the modern woman? Perhaps that’s a stretch but maybe I am wondering about how much of this furore is asking us to think about our readings and misreadings of history. And how much of it is about truly honouring these women and their stories.

The voice of Winnie Madikizela-Mandela at the end of the advert is the most chilling part of it: “Singayisusa nanini”. Dineo is looking straight at the camera, confident, with whisky in hand. Madikizela-Mandela’s striking voice is overlaid while Dineo mouths the words as though she were saying them. Considering the context in which Madikizela-Mandela said these words, this is where the advert finally rings hollow. These words were said in protest and as a threat that at any moment, the struggle continues against injustice (a direct translation loses the sentiment hence context matters). In fact, these very words were used by Ncebakazi Manzi (artist name Ncesh Nonxishi) to compose a struggle song which includes the words “weee Nomzamo sicel’amandla!” Nomzamo, give us the strength to continue fighting the ongoing struggles. The song was popularised through a feminist collective, We Are Nomzamo, and is sampled in Msaki’s At Stake, another struggle song. Sadly, the advert itself is silent on the ongoing struggles of women but it is aspirational as though our ancestors fought for us to wear suits and walk the corridors of power.

The power of advertising needs no explanation here. Influencer culture is the younger sibling of advertising which has proved even more successful than traditional advertising because it uses the faces of people with relative proximity living ideal lives which are unaffected by reality, as is the case with this advert. It’s hard not to appear conservative when it comes to alcohol and its consequences but radio presenter Penny Lebyane spoke directly to this issue in a podcast in 2025, pointing out the shift towards advertising alcohol targeting women in the past 10 years by her estimation.

While the Glenlivet advert has been taken down and apologies have been made, and the outrage has been registered, there will be no dire consequences. Life will move on. We will celebrate Women’s Month again next year, we’ll be offered more products and forget about the weight of history which is staring us in the face when we consider the ongoing injustices that women especially continue to face. DM