It is a reflection, and not necessarily a negative one, on the state of South Africa that tomorrow's general election has attracted far less attention around the world than the murder trial of the athlete Oscar Pistorius. The televised hearing, of course, has star quality, emotional extremes and high drama – all of which have been conspicuous by their absence from the election campaign. But the relative humdrum nature of this political contest may not, in itself, be a bad thing.
Twenty years after the end of apartheid South Africa has clocked up some notable achievements, not the least of which is to have held five one-person one-vote elections, which have carried conviction at home and stood up well to international scrutiny. Many new democracies, not just in Africa, have failed even at this first hurdle.
Not to be underestimated either is the fact that South Africa is at peace, internally and with its neighbours. Yes, it suffers from a stubbornly high crime rate – as the Pistorius trial has inadvertently shown, with its glimpse of gated communities, fears of insecurity and widespread firearms ownership. But again peace is not a state that could have been taken for granted, or even perhaps forecast, two decades ago. And it is this, as much as anything else, that has allowed living standards for the majority to rise.
And a third, by no means negligible, achievement: South Africa has survived the passing of its liberator, unifier and inspiration, Nelson Mandela. His decision to step down in 1999, when the easier path would have been for him to heed the blandishments and stay on, can be seen in retrospect as crucial to this, and contrasts sharply with the experience of Zimbabwe next door.
If South Africa has avoided some of the most destructive pitfalls of newly democratic states, there is another side of the balance sheet. Mandela may have gone but the party he founded maintains its dominance in South African politics. And the first post-apartheid generation qualified to vote faces little more choice when they go to the polling station than their parents did in South Africa's first post-apartheid election.
That might say something about a commendable degree of constitutional stability. Given the successive scandals that have beset the African National Congress, however, it probably says more about the country's failure to develop a truly pluralist system. There may be many reasons for this: the continued upward trajectory of living standards, despite high unemployment and endemic corruption; the debt many black South Africans feel towards the ANC, and the failure of other political groups to appeal to the black majority.
There may also be a fear of the unknown. For the time being, the party is seen as bigger, more elemental even, than one individual. Jacob Zuma's excesses, and the lavish amounts of public money spent on his personal residence that featured in this campaign, may not exactly be indulged but are widely seen as a blemish on the ANC, rather than as evidence of any rottenness within. The question is, though, how long the ANC's pre-eminence can last, and what happens when, as may well come to pass, internal divisions multiply and the centre cannot hold.
South Africa has been fortunate in some respects. It has done many things right; it has enjoyed much benevolent support from outside; and most people are better off than they were 20 years ago. But expectations risk outpacing the ability of the ANC or any government to meet them, and strains of distrust and violence run all too close to the surface.
As the Arab spring and now Ukraine have shown so graphically, the first, even the second, revolution may be accomplished with deceptive ease, but latent conflicts have a way of returning until they are resolved.
Mary Dejevsky is a writer and broadcaster.