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

A whisky advertising campaign that used the 1956 Women’s March and the voice of Winnie Madikizela-Mandela to sell alcohol has trivialised anti-apartheid history in pursuit of consumerism.

Athambile Masola is a senior lecturer in the Department of Historical Studies at the University of Cape Town.

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.