South Africa, a nation still alive with possibility, has once again been shaken by conspiratorial claims at the highest levels of government.
This time, the Minister of Justice and Constitutional Development, Mmamoloko Kubayi, pointed to South Africa’s case against Israel at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) as a possible source of the growing belief that “targets” have been placed on the country’s back. Her remarks come amid intensifying anti-illegal immigrant protests that have plunged public discourse into crisis.
According to Kubayi, the ICJ case has triggered a campaign by Israel to delegitimise South Africa, particularly leaders of the African National Congress (ANC). It is a familiar narrative, and one that history urges us to treat with caution. Liberation movements across the continent have, at various moments, positioned themselves as victims of imperial or colonial aggression when confronted with domestic discontent and political failures.
The issue is not whether powerful states act to protect their interests. They do. The issue is whether such claims are being used, without evidence, to explain away internal failures. South Africans should be cautious of accepting, at face value, suggestions that foreign influence lies behind deeply rooted domestic unrest. Too often, this becomes the reflex of political establishments that have lost legitimacy at home and seek external enemies to consolidate support.
To be fair, Kubayi did not present her claims as definitive. She spoke cautiously, noting that it would be “naive” to assume that global powers would not attempt to undermine South Africa’s human rights credibility.
“Israel fights,” she said. “That court case is huge on their shoulders.”
Yet she also conceded: “I can’t discuss that in public. Let me be generic.”
For a sitting Minister of Justice, this is significant. Vagueness framed as prudence remains vagueness. An allegation without evidence is not a warning; it is a suggestion amplified by the authority of office.
We have seen this pattern before. Robert Mugabe recast Zimbabwe’s economic collapse and chaotic land reforms as a noble struggle against imperialism. In Burkina Faso, faltering revolutionary projects were blamed on neo-colonial sabotage. Closer to home, Jacob Zuma repeatedly portrayed corruption charges and court proceedings as part of a racist, imperialist campaign against him and, by extension, against black liberation.
The formula is consistent: when domestic legitimacy falters, identify a foreign antagonist and redirect public anger outward. It is not a strategy of strength, but a strategy of political survival.
The ANC’s loss of its parliamentary majority in May 2024, falling to just over 40% after three decades of dominance, marked a profound shift in South African politics. The formation of the Government of National Unity is itself an acknowledgement that the party can no longer govern alone.
This is the backdrop against which Kubayi’s remarks must be understood. Governments secure in their legitimacy do not need to invoke shadowy foreign plots to explain unrest in their own streets.
And the unrest is real.
The March and March movement issued an ultimatum for undocumented foreign nationals to leave South Africa by 30 June 2026. Protests spread across Johannesburg, Durban, Pretoria and Cape Town. Evictions followed. Thousands of African migrants from Malawi, Zimbabwe, Nigeria and Ghana fled. Lives were lost.
Yet the movement’s founder, Jacinta Ngobese-Zuma, rejected claims of foreign orchestration outright, stating that she knew of Israel only from the Bible and describing such allegations as rooted in “racist assumptions about what motivates black people”. The irony is significant: the very movement the government sought to discredit undermined its central claim.
Political analyst Moeletsi Mbeki cut through the noise with a simpler explanation: South Africa’s crisis is not driven by migrants, whether documented or undocumented, but by structural economic failure. Unemployment fuels resentment towards foreigners, while economic policies that suppress investment and growth continue to weaken the country’s prospects. His warning about demagoguery applies broadly: scapegoating thrives where accountability fails.
It is difficult to reconcile claims of foreign destabilisation with the reality of 80,000 formal-sector jobs lost in the first quarter of 2026 alone.
This should concern any South African who remembers the promises of 1994. Those marching in the streets are not foreign agents. They are citizens, many young and many unemployed, who have watched opportunity recede while the state has “lost control and ability to do its basic job”.
Their anger is real, but it has been directed at some of the most vulnerable people in society: the foreign shopkeeper, the migrant family and the outsider with the least protection. It is an old and destructive political tactic, one that shields those responsible for systemic failures while exposing others to harm.
When a Minister invokes foreign destabilisation without evidence, the effect is not to safeguard the nation but to insulate the governing party from difficult questions. It allows the ANC to continue presenting itself as a besieged liberation movement rather than confront a far more difficult reality: after thirty years in power, why has frustration reached the point where citizens are turning against their African neighbours?
South Africa’s case against Israel at the ICJ may yet be judged as a principled stand. But moral authority abroad cannot substitute for credibility at home. It must be grounded in truth, accountability and the consistent protection of human dignity.
Suggesting, without proof, that a foreign state orchestrated violence against migrants on South African soil undermines that authority rather than strengthens it.
We have seen this movie before.
It does not end well, for anyone, and least of all for the people.
