In the increasingly complicated world of the Donald Trump prism of geopolitics, where every country has to figure out where it teeters on the diplomatic tightrope, no country’s fate has been as complicated and convoluted as that of SA.
Long before Trump’s return to the White House, SA had to deal with the megaphone diplomacy of then US ambassador Reuben Brigety, who alleged that US intelligence had it on good authority that SA was offering support to Russia in the aftermath of its invasion of Ukraine.
The diplomatic fallout — then foreign minister Naledi Pandor was seemingly horrified — was finally quelled when normal diplomatic back channels were allowed to guide the process and intervene. The ambassador eventually completed his term, and in line with US practice conservative media commentator Brent Bozell III has just been nominated by Trump to replace him.
The SA-US relationship has deteriorated rapidly, from relatively restrained to a situation where the ambassador felt comfortable making public accusations based on an apparent intelligence briefing, and now where sheer fabrications supporting an ever-escalating disinformation campaign have pitted SA directly against the US.
Central to the conversation has been the man who is simultaneously the richest human being in the world and enjoys a proximity to the Oval Office that is nigh on unprecedented. Elon Musk clearly harbours a grudge against SA, premised on the fact that he was born and had a difficult upbringing here, and is now an entrepreneur with a rather different view on how the country’s trade and foreign policies should be framed.
His utterances on social media platform X — which he happens to own — have amplified a range of dangerous and false fabrications regarding SA crime statistics, laws and economic empowerment requirements. While the utterances of anyone in an accountability vacuum like X should not ordinarily burden serious legislators, there is something uniquely dangerous about Musk as he has a global audience of millions who know little about SA. And he has the ears of decisionmakers who ought to know better but have decided on an eyes-wide-shut approach to engaging with the country.
America’s chief diplomat, Marco Rubio, has already announced a boycott of SA and committed to not attend the Group of 20 summit later in the year as an illustration of his displeasure. Trump, whose fixation with executive orders transcends the rational discourse preferred by diplomats, has not only accused SA of doing “very bad things”, but has implemented sweeping cuts in aid to SA, the region and across the globe. The latest straw involved the expulsion of SA’s ambassador to the US, Ebrahim Rasool, for stating that Trump is mobilising supremacism across the globe.
The draconian response to Rasool contrasts sharply with SA’s restrained reaction to Brigety’s undiplomatic statement. While no-one would argue that SA should take its lead from the American playbook, it is tempting to note that the rules as SA understands them are no longer fit for the incendiary approach the Trump administration and its proxies, including Musk, Joel Pollak and AfriForum, have taken.
AfriForum’s demonisation of SA in the US corridors of power is aimed at winning through coercion what it cannot win through debate and — if it opted to go that route — the ballot box. The danger that emerges from all this is that unlike the nation’s elected leaders, the AfriForum accountability canvas is narrow, since it only caters to the whims of those whose sense of discontent with the state of the nation has become a point of mobilisation.
Elected leaders have a responsibility to navigate through the chaos of the current times and also mobilise the resources to cover the gaps created by recent developments.
• Sithole is an accountant, academic and activist.
Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.