Trump’s Executive Order: More Than Bluster, It Could Sink South Africa’s Economy

By Mzoxolo Mpolase

South Africa has found itself in the crosshairs of the Trump administration.

Just days ago, US President, Donald Trump issued a statement lambasting the South African government, a statement I responded to in detail here.

At the time, it was mere rhetoric, but now, his administration has escalated matters by issuing an executive order that places South Africa under direct scrutiny.

The executive order, titled Addressing Egregious Actions of the Republic of South Africa, is built on two central premises.

First, that the South African government is promoting policies that undermine fair employment, education, and business opportunities while fuelling “disproportionate violence against racially disfavoured landowners.”

Second, that South Africa has taken an aggressive foreign policy stance towards the United States and its allies by accusing Israel of genocide at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) and strengthening ties with those the United States considers adversaries.

At face value, these accusations sound damning, but they are more political theatre than substance. However, this executive order is not just empty words—it carries significant consequences that could cripple South Africa’s economy and further isolate it from key global markets.

The End of PEPFAR: Not a Tragedy, but an Exposure of Government Failure

One of the most immediate consequences of the order is the withdrawal of United States aid and assistance, which means that PEPFAR (The President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief)—which has accounted for an estimated 17% of South Africa’s HIV/AIDS healthcare funding—is likely coming to an end.

While some may see this as a disaster, the South African government should never have relied on the United States to fund a critical public health programme.

The country has one of the highest tax burdens in the world, yet instead of ensuring essential services like healthcare are fully covered, the ANC government has poured billions into failing state-owned enterprises, lavish VIP security, and corruption-ridden procurement schemes.

If South Africa now struggles to maintain its HIV/AIDS programmes without PEPFAR, that is not an indictment of Trump but of the government’s own failures.

Selective Refugee Resettlement: A Nod to Afriforum and Its Narrative

Perhaps the most politically charged section of Trump’s executive order is the provision that promotes the resettlement of Afrikaner refugees “escaping government-sponsored race-based discrimination.”

This is a direct nod to AfriForum and other lobbyists who have successfully framed white Afrikaners (white Afrikaans-speaking South Africans) as victims of a state-led campaign of persecution.

This narrative, heavily promoted in certain right-wing circles abroad, hinges on the idea that white South African farmers are being systematically targeted and dispossessed.

However, it conveniently ignores the broader and more complex reality of South Africa’s economic failure, which has devastated all racial groups.

The country’s unemployment crisis does not discriminate. Black South Africans make up the overwhelming majority of the unemployed, and millions live in informal settlements without government safety nets.

The economic collapse is not the result of racial persecution against whites—it is the consequence of a failing state, where corruption, mismanagement, and misguided policies have deepened inequality across the board.

Policies such as Affirmative Action and Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) were introduced to uplift the historically disadvantaged, but in practice, they have only enriched a politically connected elite while doing little to alleviate poverty on a large scale.

Instead of fostering economic growth and broad-based empowerment, these policies have entrenched cronyism, sidelined merit, and ultimately weakened the economy. When hiring is driven by political considerations rather than competence, stagnation and inefficiency are inevitable.

Yes, economic hardship among white South Africans is real—just as it is for black, coloured, and indian South Africans.

But while some lobbyists have successfully framed white suffering as an international crisis, the struggles of black, coloured, indian, and even white English-speaking South Africans remain largely ignored by the same voices now calling for refugee resettlement.

The same government accused of persecuting white landowners has, through corruption, incompetence, and patronage, failed to provide meaningful economic opportunities for the vast majority of black South Africans.

Land reform, which was meant to address historical injustices, has instead become a smokescreen for political posturing. The amended Expropriation Act was always a red herring—a belated attempt by the ANC to appear proactive on land reform, despite the existence of long-standing legal and policy mechanisms that could have facilitated redistribution decades ago.

But, as with much of the lobbying that reached Trump’s desk, nuance and context are the first casualties when there’s an ideological narrative to push.

Meanwhile, those pushing this refugee narrative—both locally and abroad—have seized on isolated images of impoverished white South Africans living in squatter camps to paint a picture of racial persecution. Right-wing influencers selectively amplify these images, presenting them as representative of all white South Africans, while ignoring the millions of others living in the same or even worse conditions.

Whether this is wilful ignorance, ideological complicity, or deliberate propaganda is debatable—but what is clear is that it distorts reality.

The real shame is not just that a handful of white South Africans live in dire poverty, but that millions of South Africans of all races do—victims not of racial persecution, but of a government that has failed them all.

As for farm murders and crime, my position remains as outlined in this article:

“Farm killings in South Africa affect all people—black, white, and everyone in between. The country’s high crime rates and lack of law enforcement mean that farmers and farmworkers, whether white or black, are vulnerable to violent crime, just as millions of ordinary South Africans are. The data does not support the notion that farm killings are part of a systematic campaign against white farmers. Rather, they are part of South Africa’s broader lawlessness, which disproportionately affects the poor and working class, most of whom are black.”

This ties directly to the broader collapse of rural safety. The failure of law enforcement in South Africa is well-documented:

“Anyone who lives in rural areas—or even some urban areas—will tell you that police rarely arrive in time when a crime is committed.

If a crime occurs in the evening, police often only show up in the morning, citing ‘no available vehicles’ or other excuses. These are the hallmarks of a failed state and an ANC government that has neglected rural safety entirely.

This dereliction of duty was exacerbated by the ANC’s decision to disband the Commando System, a rural defence initiative that played a crucial role in farm safety. The system was abolished under the justification that it was a remnant of apartheid, but, as with everything the ANC does, they removed it without any effective replacement.

The South African Police Service (SAPS) was supposedly meant to take over rural safety, but without increasing police numbers, resources, or infrastructure, failure was inevitable.

There are seldom police patrols in South Africa, whether in rural or urban areas. Everything is reactive—always after the fact. In functional societies, visible policing is a deterrent—response times matter. But South Africa does not have a well-trained, well-resourced, or professional police force. The structure may exist, but those in it do not measure up.

The average police officer leaves much to be desired, which is why many South Africans rely on private security companies as their first point of call in the event of a crime—while paying exorbitant taxes of up to 45%. The government has effectively outsourced public safety to private companies, creating a two-tier system where only those who can afford security get protection.”

The reality is that crime and economic hardship in South Africa are structural issues that affect all citizens, not just one racial group. The narrative of white persecution has been deliberately amplified to serve a political agenda, but it collapses under scrutiny.

Foreign Policy: South Africa’s Israel Stance Is a Problem—But Trump’s Response Is Misinformed

The second major justification for the executive order is South Africa’s diplomatic stance on Israel. While South Africa’s ICJ case against Israel is consistent with its long-standing foreign policy, the ANC’s approach has never been based on genuine humanitarian concern.

As I have previously argued in the SA Jewish Report, South Africa’s foreign policy is often dictated by ideological posturing rather than pragmatic national interests.

Trump’s framing, however, is equally misleading. He presents South Africa’s ICJ case as an “aggressive” act against the United States or its allies, when in reality, it is a continuation of the ANC’s ideological fantasies, which see it align with Cuba, champion the Palestinian cause, advocate for Western Sahara, and latch onto every perceived fight against imperialism.

This is less about principle and more about performative activism, a desperate attempt to cling to outdated liberation-era politics that bear little relevance to South Africa’s current reality.

This obsession with distant struggles is not rooted in pragmatic diplomacy but in a delusional sense of influence, where South Africa imagines itself as a global moral authority while failing to address crises at home.

The ANC waxes lyrical about genocide and persecution elsewhere while presiding over a country plagued by violent crime, economic collapse, and up to 82 murders a day. It decries oppression abroad but does little to tackle corruption, governance failures, or the daily suffering of its own citizens.

While it takes on legal battles against other nations, the ANC refuses to acknowledge the genocidal levels of violent crime within its own borders.

South Africans experience violent crime rates comparable to war zones, yet the government prioritises virtue-signalling foreign policy rather than addressing domestic security. This hypocrisy is not lost on international observers.

This foreign policy approach has little to do with justice and everything to do with ANC delusions of grandeur—a self-righteous crusade that ignores the real crises unfolding within South Africa’s own borders.

The BRICS Factor: The Weakest Link in a Growing Bloc

With BRICS’ expansion, it now consists of 11 full members: Brazil, Russia, India, China, South Africa, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, UAE, Ethiopia, Iran, and Indonesia.

This transforms BRICS from an economic bloc into a growing geopolitical alliance with strategic energy markets, trade influence, and industrial powerhouses.

However, South Africa, as one of the initial BRICS countries, remains the weakest link in BRICS. Unlike China, Russia, or India, which have the economic or military strength to resist U.S. pressure, South Africa is highly vulnerable to economic retaliation.

The United States knows this and is using targeted economic measures, like AGOA’s potential removal, to isolate South Africa and undermine BRICS cohesion.

South Africa’s economy is the smallest among  the original BRICS members (and still a smaller player, even with the new entrants), its industrial output lags significantly, and it lacks the financial firepower of China or Russia to counterbalance U.S. pressure.

While BRICS is positioning itself as a challenger to Western-dominated economic systems, South Africa’s fragile economy makes it the easiest target for the United States to exploit.

Unlike China and India, which have diversified global trade partners, South Africa remains, other than China, heavily reliant on Western markets, particularly in Europe and North America.

The U.S. understands this and is using tools like AGOA as leverage to remind South Africa of the risks associated with aligning too closely with anti-Western rhetoric.

If South Africa is forced into an economic crisis through U.S. trade retaliation, it would serve as a warning to other BRICS nations—particularly those newly admitted—that any moves to challenge U.S. economic supremacy come with consequences.

The Real Threat: AGOA and Economic Retaliation

Unlike PEPFAR, AGOA is not about humanitarian aid—it is about trade, jobs, and investment. If AGOA is revoked, South Africa faces severe economic consequences, affecting multiple industries that rely on duty-free access to the United States market.

In 2023, South Africa’s total exports to the United States were valued at $15.7 billion, with $3 billion benefiting directly from AGOA. The key industries at risk are:

• Automotive manufacturing – Ford, BMW, and Toyota rely on AGOA to export vehicles. Without it, these companies may relocate production, costing thousands of jobs.
• Agriculture – The United States is a major importer of South African wine, citrus, and nuts. Without AGOA, these exports will face tariffs, making them uncompetitive.

Beyond exports, AGOA’s loss would shake investor confidence. With South Africa already suffering energy crises, political instability, and high crime, losing AGOA would accelerate capital flight and a weakening rand.

Despite these risks, the ANC remains indifferent, choosing ideological posturing and bravado over economic pragmatism, such as the response Cyril Ramaphosa offered, boldly stating South Africa “will not be bullied“. If AGOA is revoked, the ANC will have no excuse—they will have seen the warning signs and ignored them.

The Final Verdict

Trump’s executive order is not just about punishing South Africa—it is a strategic play in a larger geopolitical battle.

It serves multiple purposes: applying pressure on BRICS, discouraging defiance from weaker economies, and reinforcing United States dominance over African trade policy.

However, what makes this situation more damaging is that South Africa is walking straight into the trap. The ANC’s ideological posturing, economic mismanagement, and foreign policy blunders have made it easy for the United States to justify economic retaliation. South Africa is not a victim of imperialism here—it is a casualty of its own reckless leadership.

The biggest test will be AGOA’s potential revocation, which could push South Africa toward financial isolation and economic decline. If AGOA is revoked, South Africa will be left scrambling for alternative markets that cannot replace the scale, profitability, and stability of U.S. trade.

The irony is that South Africa does not have to be in this position. It is not a superpower engaged in a global confrontation—it is a mid-sized economy that depends on stability and trade to function. Yet, its leadership insists on acting as if it has the leverage to challenge the West without consequences.

If AGOA is revoked, it will not be a surprise—it will be the inevitable consequence of a government that chooses ideological battles over economic survival. And when the economy starts to crumble further, the ANC will blame external forces, but the truth will remain: South Africa was warned, and it ignored every single warning sign.

In the end, foreign policy and diplomacy, like first impressions, are often decided before you even open your mouth. People form opinions with or without your input, and once a perception is set, the onus is on you to shift it—especially if the person judging you is in a position of greater power.

Whether that perception is based on your actions, your alliances, or simply what someone else told them about you, such as the pretext for this executive order, it does not matter. What matters is how you respond.

The ANC government better understand this. It cannot afford to meet this executive order with indifference, bravado, or ideological bluster. Diplomacy is not about empty defiance or ‘my button is bigger than yours’ nonsense.

South Africa’s economy, its stability, and millions of livelihoods depend on measured, strategic diplomacy.