OpinionPREMIUM

MIKE SILUMA | We need a strategic approach to Trump, not bluster

The US president has a range of weapons in his arsenal and we ignore his threats at our peril

US President Donald Trump. REUTERS/Eduardo Munoz/File Photo (Eduardo Munoz)

At this point there can be no doubt that South Africa is firmly embedded on Donald Trump’s hit list of countries he loathes. These are countries he bad-mouths at every opportunity. Countries marked for vengeful action because they see the world differently to him and want to chart their own independent path into the future.

He detests any talk of racial redress for blacks and women in his own country, he resents South Africa for similar policies for black people and for daring to choose its own friends in the world. Pretoria’s talk of multilateralism and a rules-based global order (where the voice of every country, irrespective of size, matters) is like a red rag to a bull.

We are right in there, alongside Trump’s bêtes noires such as Iran (which he’s “watching very carefully”), Cuba (which is “ready to fall”) and Colombia (whose president must “watch his ass”).

But, while his words and deeds have seemed egregious, Trump is following an established script: a long-standing tradition of successive American administrations trying to get the world to dance to Washington’s tune.

For “recalcitrant” governments, they resort to bloody invasions and regime change. For leaders who won’t toe the line or are regarded as a threat to US interests in any way, the punishment can include murder, as in the case of Congolese independence leader Patrice Lumumba. Saddam Hussein they captured and then turned over to his killers. Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro is but the latest casualty.

Trump’s undisguised modus operandi is now obvious to all: bald-faced lies (reminiscent of Iraq’s non-existent weapons of mass destruction) and threats followed by violent action.

Trump’s undisguised modus operandi is now obvious to all: bald-faced lies (reminiscent of Iraq’s non-existent weapons of mass destruction) and threats followed by violent action.

In the case of Venezuela, his threadbare excuse for seizing Maduro was because he was a “narco terrorist”, but that was belied when his own actions revealed one of the key motives for the invasion — control of that country’s oil. No sooner had Maduro’s abductors delivered him to a New York prison than the US president, rather than seeking out drug factories, declared: “This oil will be sold at its market price and that money will be controlled by me, as president of the United States of America…”

Vice-President JD Vance chimed in, telling Fox News: “We control the energy resources and we tell the regime, you’re allowed to sell the oil so long as you serve America’s national interest.”

The US’s violation of international law while seeking to impose the law of the jungle among nations was rightly met with condemnation in South Africa and elsewhere. Not that Trump would have been listening.

Trump’s hostile intentions towards us have been telegraphed for a while, with him repeatedly and unashamedly spreading the untruths of “very bad things” happening here and, against hard facts, of Pretoria committing “genocide” against white Afrikaners.

As the invasion of Venezuela and the abduction of its president have demonstrated, we ignore Trump’s threats at our peril. They are not just idle talk, but the result of deeply held, if wrong-headed, beliefs.

Which is why President Cyril Ramaphosa’s seemingly dismissive attitude this week was astonishing. Asked by reporters if Trump might attack South Africa, Ramaphosa said: “No, I’m not worried about an invasion of South Africa, not at all. I think we are very far from anything like that. In the end, the United States is an important country in the world, and we have always believed that any differences with whichever country, including the United States, need to be discussed.”

Perhaps it was meant to assuage the fears of a jittery citizenry. But the response seemed to disregard that in attacking its adversaries, such as those on Trump’s hit list, the US wields a range of weapons in its arsenal.

In our case, apart from economic sanctions (including Agoa that we are desperate to hold on to and punitive tariffs), it is not unthinkable that the US could foment civil unrest, as they have done in other parts of the world. Along with its corruption problem, service delivery failures and right-wing separatists who pledge their loyalty to Trump rather than their country of birth, among other things, the country is fertile ground for such intervention.

South Africa is also wide open for infiltration. Do we know, for instance, how many foreigners are here illegally? Who they are and what they are up to? How many are spies or sleepers for foreign actors, including the US? Not to speak of disorganisation and criminality in the security services. There, the police leadership is at war with itself while the heads of crime intelligence are in the dock.

If Trump decided to do to Ramaphosa what he did to Maduro, what would be our response? Is it something we could prevent?

Principle on its own is not sufficient in dealing with evil people

Standing by our principles and values is the honourable thing to do. It is what separates decent human beings and countries from rogues. But principle on its own is not sufficient in dealing with evil people.

Who do we think will come to our defence in the event we are attacked? In Brics every country acts to further its own interests, including cutting individual deals with Trump. We cannot rely on the UN Security Council, paralysed by a veto straitjacket that prevents it from doing its primary duty of maintaining world peace.

Europe? With its mealymouthed response to Venezuela, it will simply wring its hands, as it did when Trump excluded South Africa from the G20. Russia and China? Not on your life.

Therefore, it would be the height of recklessness for any government or ruling party to place its country, even based on sound principles, at the forefront of conflict with an unstable adversary — without a strategy to defend that country and its people.

An Nguni idiom captures the point marvelously: Ubogawula ubheke. Indeed, when cutting down a tree, make sure it does not fall on your head. Every action spawns a reaction. And the more significant the action is, the more virulent the reaction.

Let’s hope that our leaders, as they justifiably call Washington out, have a response plan for the blowback that is sure to come. The bluster and rhetoric may give us visceral satisfaction. But they are no substitute for a strategy.


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