I wasn’t planning to get sucked into another Twitter/X political drama, but then I saw Elon Musk labelling Julius Malema an international criminal.
Wait, what?
I had to pause. Read it again. Then scroll back to check what exactly sparked this.
Now, I’m not saying I agree with everything Malema says, but one thing I’ve always known about him? He’s an unapologetic Pan-Africanist. A man who has spent years advocating for African unity, land redistribution, and economic freedom for Black South Africans.
So, to see Musk (a billionaire tech mogul) using his platform to characterize Malema in a completely different light was striking.
I found myself wondering: Have I misunderstood Malema all along? Is there something I missed?
Or… is this just another case of who gets to control the narrative?
The Back-and-Forth That Sparked It All
Elon Musk, born in South Africa, jumped into the political fray when he saw an old clip of Malema at an EFF rally, leading a chant that has long been a point of controversy:
“Dubul’ ibhunu,” which translates to “Shoot the Boer” (and in this context, “Boer” refers to white farmers), is a song rooted in South Africa’s anti-apartheid struggle. Over the years, it has sparked debate; some see it as a historic chant of resistance, while others view it as inciting violence.
Musk sounded the alarm, claiming that Malema’s words were a call for genocide against white South Africans.
And then, he called for Malema to be declared an international criminal.
And of course, Malema wasn’t going to let that slide.
His response?
“I really think you have entirely lost your left brain. A typical spoiled brat, and a direct beneficiary of apartheid whiteness. I know black people look the same to you, but look closer, and you will realise these are two different people. America is exposing us to its stupidity.”
Malema didn’t back down. He doubled down on his stance, making it clear that his fight was about equality, not intimidation.
“I don’t care about your sanctions; I will never stop fighting for black people to be equal to white people. If that makes me an international criminal, I am proud to be one.”
The tweets went viral. Lines were drawn.
On one side, Musk’s followers (including some white South Africans and Americans) cheered him on, saying he was “finally exposing” Malema for what he really was.
On the other, Malema’s supporters (many young, radical, and pro-Africa) pushed back, saying Musk had no right to interfere in a struggle he had never been part of.
And then, there were people like me.
Caught somewhere in the middle, staring at the screen, wondering:
Who gets to define the struggle?
The Power of Narrative
Here’s the thing… what Musk did wasn’t new. It’s a classic move.
Take a complex struggle, strip it of its historical context, isolate one soundbite, and present it in a way that makes one side look extreme.
It happens all the time.
But let’s break it down:
- The chant in question has deep roots in South African history. It’s not about genocide; it was a symbol of resistance against apartheid.
- Even the South African courts ruled in 2022 that the chant isn’t an actual call to violence.
- Farm attacks do happen in South Africa, but they’re mostly linked to crime, like robbery, rather than being purely about race. That said, given the country’s history, it’s a sensitive and ongoing debate.
So, was Malema being rash? Maybe.
But did Musk misrepresent Malema by framing him as a genocidal threat? It certainly looks that way.
Because this is about more than just words. It’s about power. Who gets to speak. Who gets to be heard. And who gets to be labelled the villain.
A Tale of Two South Africans
Let’s not forget who these two men are.
- Elon Musk: Billionaire. White South African. Came from a privileged background in a country where wealth and resources have historically been concentrated in white hands, though the extent and origins of his family’s wealth remain debated.
- Julius Malema: Black South African. Grew up under apartheid. Leads a political movement that pushes for land redistribution and economic justice.
Now, let’s ask the real question:
Why does Musk care about Malema’s rhetoric but not about the systemic inequalities that fuel it?
Malema’s entire political platform exists because of the lingering effects of apartheid, the same system that structured wealth and land ownership in ways that still disadvantage Black South Africans today.
A white South African with vast resources is positioning himself as the victim, while a Black South African leading a grassroots movement is being called the villain.
If that’s not historical déjà vu, I don’t know what is.
The Same Old Playbook
This whole situation is just another example of how power works. Musk’s tweet isn’t just about Malema.
It’s about who gets to control the narrative. Because when you strip a movement of its history, isolate a few words, and frame it in the worst possible way, it suddenly looks irrational. Dangerous. Criminal.
And once that label sticks? The real conversation about economic justice, about historical wrongs, about land ownership gets buried.
It’s not about Malema himself. It’s about what he represents.
Because it’s easier to attack the person than to address the problem.
And South Africa’s problems? They go much deeper than a chant.
