After weeks of heated legal wrangling and public debate, a South African court has ruled that the remains of former Zambian president Edgar Lungu must be returned to Zambia for a state funeral, despite strong objections from his family. The decision, delivered by Judge President Aubrey Ledwaba at the High Court in Pretoria on Friday, August 8, 2025, puts an end—at least for now—to a tense standoff that has gripped both Zambia and the region since Lungu’s death in early June.
Lungu, who led Zambia from 2015 to 2021, died in South Africa while undergoing medical treatment. What might have been a straightforward state event instead spiraled into a two-month dispute, as Lungu’s family insisted he wished to be buried in South Africa and wanted nothing to do with the current Zambian leadership—especially President Hakainde Hichilema. The Zambian government, however, was adamant: a former president belonged to the history and soil of his homeland, and only a state funeral in Lusaka would befit his status.
According to Eastleigh Voice, the family’s resistance stemmed from years of political tension between Lungu and Hichilema. The bad blood runs deep: Hichilema was jailed in 2017 during Lungu’s presidency on charges his supporters have long claimed were politically motivated. More recently, Lungu accused Hichilema’s administration of harassment and even claimed they tried to block his medical trip to South Africa—a charge the government has flatly denied.
The family’s position was clear. They said Lungu did not want Hichilema anywhere near his funeral, and they wanted to lay him to rest in South Africa, far from the political theater back home. But the government saw things differently, and the dispute spilled into the courts. The High Court’s ruling was unambiguous: “A former president’s personal wishes or the wishes of his family cannot outweigh the right of the state to honour that individual with a state funeral.”
Judge Ledwaba’s decision, as reported by Eastleigh Voice and confirmed by other outlets, was rooted in the principle that the burial of a former head of state is a matter of public interest. The court referenced previous Zambian legal precedents affirming that state funerals are not just ceremonial—they are a matter of national protocol for individuals of significant public importance. “Even if a president has expressed a wish not to receive a state funeral, such a desire must be set aside in favor of public interest,” Judge Ledwaba stated.
The ruling ordered Lungu’s family to immediately surrender his body to Zambian authorities for repatriation and burial in Lusaka. While the family still retains the right to appeal, officials in both countries have signaled that the burial will move forward in Zambia. The family’s legal options, according to experts cited by Eastleigh Voice, may face significant hurdles due to the court’s strong emphasis on national interest over personal or familial preference.
This legal battle has brought to the fore the broader question of how nations balance the private wishes of prominent figures with the public’s need for closure and recognition. Should a former leader’s personal desires, or those of their family, take precedence over the state’s symbolic rituals? Or does the state’s interest in honoring its history and unifying its people trump individual preference? It’s a debate that has played out in different forms around the world, but rarely with the kind of public acrimony seen here.
The Zambian government, for its part, has tried to frame the court’s decision as a moment for national unity. Zambian Attorney General Mulilo Kabesha told reporters, “This isn’t about winning. You can’t win when it comes to a burial. It simply makes sense that the former president of the Republic of Zambia should be laid to rest in his homeland, the nation where he served as president.”
Yet not everyone sees it that way. For Lungu’s supporters, the government’s insistence on a state funeral is viewed with suspicion, as an attempt to control the narrative around his legacy and perhaps even to score political points. The fact that the family specifically requested that Hichilema neither attend nor participate in the funeral arrangements only underscores the depth of the rift. As Eastleigh Voice notes, “The legal battle over his burial has only intensified these political divisions, with Lungu’s supporters viewing the government’s insistence on a state funeral as an attempt to control his legacy.”
There’s no denying that the rivalry between Lungu and Hichilema has cast a long shadow. During Lungu’s presidency, Hichilema’s imprisonment was seen by many as emblematic of the sometimes fraught state of Zambian democracy. The tables turned after Hichilema’s election, with Lungu and his allies alleging harassment and travel restrictions. These tensions have now spilled over into the question of how—and where—Lungu should be laid to rest.
For ordinary Zambians, the episode has been a reminder of the delicate balance between honoring the past and moving forward. While some see the state funeral as an opportunity for reconciliation, others fear it will only deepen the divides. The world, too, is watching: Zambia has long been regarded as a relatively stable democracy in the region, but episodes like this show just how easily old wounds can reopen.
As arrangements for the state funeral get underway, there are practical matters to resolve—timing, logistics, and, of course, security. The government has made clear it intends to proceed swiftly, but the family’s right to appeal could still delay the process. For now, however, the momentum is firmly with the state.
Legal scholars and commentators are already dissecting the case for its broader implications. Does the ruling set a precedent for future disputes over the burial of national leaders? Will it encourage other governments to assert control over such ceremonies, even in the face of family resistance? And, perhaps most importantly for Zambians, will the funeral serve as a moment of healing, or will it become yet another flashpoint in the country’s ongoing political drama?
One thing is certain: the story of Edgar Lungu’s final journey has become about much more than a burial. It’s a window into the complexities of national identity, the lingering scars of political rivalry, and the challenge of honoring the dead while uniting the living. As Zambia prepares to bid farewell to its former leader, the hope—however faint—is that the ceremony might help the nation turn the page, even as it grapples with the ghosts of its recent past.
In the end, the court’s decision has ensured that Edgar Lungu will return to Zambia, the country he once led and the land that now, for better or worse, will claim his legacy.
