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BRIEFING ROOM: Coup warnings, envoy no-shows and the rise of atchar

At home, we launch inquiries and lose envoys. Abroad, we sell pickled mangoes and macadamia nuts to a country that’s actually listening

Tiisetso Motsoeneng

Tiisetso Motsoeneng

Deputy Editor

This week was a study in institutional evaporation. The state flagged coup risks, launched a judicial inquiry into the police and watched one of its most influential policy think-tanks quietly shut down. Meanwhile, mango atchar vendors kept trading — and winning. 

The inquiry no-one wanted but everyone needed

President Cyril Ramaphosa placed police minister Senzo Mchunu on special leave — i.e, there isn’t enough to strip him of his title — and unleashed a sweeping judicial inquiry into alleged cartel infiltration of the SA Police Service, National Prosecuting Authority, State Security Agency (SSA) and judiciary, as reported by Thando Maeko. It’s an exercise in crisis management, not command.

The underlying story is that Ramaphosa is betting that radical transparency can substitute for institutional control. It’s a high-risk move. Commissions don’t arrest anyone, and naming names doesn’t rebuild trust. Unless the inquiry yields prosecutions, it’s just another Zondo — with better lighting. 

As one of our most loyal readers, Andrea Robertson, put it: “The only thing the Zondo commission achieved was a R1bn price tag without any other consequences. I predict this will be the same.” 

Coup chatter

Then came the startling admission, as reported by Linda Ensor, a familiar byline to our loyal readers. Khumbudzo Ntshavheni, a minister in Ramaphosa’s office, disclosed that the SSA had flagged potential coup risks. No active plot, she said, but rising instability. The problem is that Ramaphosa’s security architecture was tested and found wanting during the July 2021 riots.

The warning is as much about surveillance gaps or bad actors as it is about whether the state has the institutional muscle to confront threats that are deeper and more organised, as our editorial points out. Ntshavheni folded “coup” into the public noise. But power doesn’t reassure with language; it reassures with control. That’s what this moment is testing.

Jonas, Washington and the visa that wasn’t

Meanwhile, Mcebisi Jonas, picked as Ramaphosa’s special envoy to the US in April, had by July been denied a diplomatic visa and rejected by Washington as our official interlocutor, per the DA. The presidency hit back, saying special envoys did not need credentials and accusing the DA of trying to “dangerously exploit a critical engagement between SA and the US”. 

But facts remain foggy. Jonas hasn’t set foot in Washington. His mandate was to lead trade talks. Now he’s “assisting departments”. Meanwhile, as David Furlonger reports, SA vehicle exports to the US collapsed by more than 80% in the first half of the year. 

And one avid reader of this news platform, Martin Neethling, didn’t mince his words, saying that the idea that hard-working officials were sincerely brokering a compromise behind the scenes was nothing more than a comforting fiction. 

Atchar goes global

Neethling may be right. Instead of brokering tariff relief in Washington, our envoys, led by Deputy President Paul Mashatile, are touring SEZs in Beijing — an unmistakable signal that SA is drifting into China’s orbit and has all but given up on breaking the 30% tariff wall. Patricia de Lille is selling tourism. John Steenhuisen is pitching agriculture, possibly mango atchar, which has quietly found its way into China’s food security strategy. 

At the ninth Standard Bank SME Summit, hosted by Business Day this week, Thembi Dlamini, the bank’s Africa China head, told delegates that the spicy, fermented condiment could be an easy pitch to Chinese millennials and Gen Z as a high-potential export — low in tariffs, high in flavour.

Steenhuisen’s message: “China moves quickly, and they often express frustration at the length of time it takes to get things done with us.” It’s a telling contrast. At home, we’re launching inquiries and losing envoys. Abroad, we’re selling pickled mangoes and macadamia nuts to a country that’s actually listening.

Big bailouts, no breakthroughs

Back home, Transnet wants a reset. It is buckling under R100bn debt, and survives off government guarantees. The goal is unbundling, state support and a board that actually runs things, as reported here by Kabelo Khumalo. The plan might be sound. The delivery, as ever, is the question.

And what of the SA Post Office? It needs R3.8bn to emerge from business rescue. Without it, infrastructure upgrades, digital expansion and the second tranche of creditor payments are frozen, as Tara Roos, a new and energetic byline on the pages, reports from parliament.

“What you don’t want is the business rescue practitioners exiting, handing over to an acting team, who then hand over to a permanent team staggered over time. That is an absolute disaster,” warned Scopa chair Songezo Zibi.

The Post Office is caught in a relay of dysfunction, where continuity is a luxury and accountability is always one handover away.

You’d be forgiven for thinking ArcelorMittal a state-owned enterprise in the mould of Transnet and the Post Office. ArcelorMittal SA’s longs division has wrung R1.6bn from the IDC, coerced a 52% tariff on imported coil and scored a R417m wage subsidy. The bailout arrived. The recovery didn’t.   

As our editorial warns, the question is whether Parks Tau will subsidise a ghost industry or summon the courage to perform the necessary industrial surgery. Otherwise, the drama will end not with applause, but a final, ungraceful collapse. 

Malatsi media merger gambit

And Solly Malatsi, as coherently sketched out by Kabelo Khumalo, has made proposals that cut to the heart of who “owns the story” in SA, and that’s bound to polarise opinion. The thinking goes that allowing newspapers, broadcasters and streamers to merge will unlock cost overlaps, bolster small businesses and lure foreign capital via a 49% stake invite.   

Brenthurst bows out

Finally, the Brenthurst Foundation, long a policy engine for African reform, closed its doors without warning, Jana Marx reports. No scandal. No budget crisis. Just silence. Analysts scratched their heads. Its departure echoes wider policy exoduses.

Power recoiled this week — shifting blame, outsourcing action and fine-tuning procedure. And the only thing that scaled was mango atchar.

Until next week. Every story is your business.   

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