The window exploded before I saw the gun. Just a loud crack — then shards in my face, then a fist yanking the door open.
Five of them. Muddy Converse. Beanies pulled low. One barely out of school. They dragged me out of my Mercedes and threw me under a bush like a bag of rubbish.
I tasted blood before I knew where it came from.
“Please, take the car,” I said. “Take everything. Just leave my bag.”
It had my laptop. My notes. My life in zipped compartments.
“Fokof,” one spat. “You think we’re your BEE brothers?”
Then came the boots. The insults. The gun. The shot.
It was supposed to be a hijacking — but it felt like punishment.
Not for resisting, but for representing something. For speaking calmly instead of cowering. For not bowing low enough.
That moment — blurry, bloodied, and bewildering — is exactly where South Africa stands today.
The sanctions are coming
On 22 July 2025, the US House Foreign Affairs Committee advanced the US-South Africa Bilateral Relations Review Act in a 34-16 vote. Introduced in April by Congressman Ronny Jackson, the bill is cloaked in diplomatic language, claiming to “strengthen US-South African ties”. But beneath the façade, it reads like a warning shot.
If passed, it would empower the US government to sanction South African officials under the Global Magnitsky Act — a law designed to target the world’s worst human rights offenders and kleptocrats.
Let’s not pretend this is about corruption. South Africa has its own demons, from State Capture to service delivery failures. We’ve earned the anger of our own people, and rightly so. But if corruption were truly the standard, many of America’s allies — some with far worse records — would be on the same list.
This isn’t a principled stand. It’s a geopolitical lever.
Nor is non-alignment an endorsement. Russia may have stood with us during the Struggle against apartheid, but that doesn’t mean we baptise its every action today. We can remember who showed up without romanticising who they are now. To engage China or speak with Iran is not to sanctify them. To criticise Israel is not to erase Hamas’ crimes.
But in Washington’s current mood, anything short of full compliance is labelled complicity.
This isn’t about justice — it’s about obedience. Obedience to Washington’s worldview. Obedience to its alliances. Obedience to its preferred version of moral clarity — one that always seems to exempt its closest partners.
When democracy was dangerous
History remembers differently than the West pretends. During apartheid, the US didn’t stand with the oppressed — it stood with the regime.
Nelson Mandela was branded a terrorist — and he remained on the US terrorist watchlist until 2008, 15 years after becoming South Africa’s first democratic president. The ANC was labelled a communist threat. President Ronald Reagan vetoed sanctions. Then British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher called them “immoral”. Western capital backed white supremacy under the banner of anti-communism.
style="font-weight: 400;">“your enemy is not our enemy”, it was not defiance — it was sovereignty. It was the dignity of a people refusing to outsource their conscience.
Today, once again, South Africa is being punished.
Not for violence.
Not for lawlessness.
But for choosing a path of principle that diverges from Washington’s.
A loaded act
The US-South Africa Bilateral Relations Review Act does not centre human rights. Instead, it grants the US president sweeping authority to determine whether South Africa has “undermined US national security or foreign policy interests”.
That’s it.
No requirement of genocide. No proof of corruption. No actual misconduct.
Just the crime of non-compliance.
If enacted, it could trigger visa bans, banking restrictions, asset freezes and diplomatic disengagement. While targeted in language, sanctions rarely remain confined. We’ve seen the fallout before — from Zimbabwe to Venezuela — where sanctions chilled investment, collapsed currencies and deepened social crises.
What’s the real trigger?
South Africa’s vocal stance on Israel and Gaza. Its willingness to invoke international law at The Hague. Its refusal to toe the line in the emerging global Cold War.
That — not misgovernance — is the perceived offence.
Follow the money
The bill’s lead sponsor, Congressman Ronny Jackson, is a recipient of significant campaign funding from Aipac — the American Israel Public Affairs Committee. That’s not conspiracy — that’s public record.
It’s no coincidence his outrage peaks when South Africa critiques Israel’s actions in Gaza — even when those critiques come through respected international legal mechanisms.
Let me be clear: I do not uncritically endorse every aspect of South Africa’s foreign policy. The Arab world is not beyond reproach. And the apartheid analogy — though emotionally potent — can sometimes oversimplify a complex conflict.
But we will not be bullied into silence — not by donors, nor diplomats, nor those who confuse disagreement with disloyalty.
This is not about governance — it’s about punishment.
Punishment for choosing diplomacy over deference.
Punishment for saying we will not pick a side in your game.
Yes, other nations — Brazil, Spain, Turkey, Colombia — have joined our legal case at the International Court of Justice. But only we are being threatened with sanctions.
Why?
Because we are easier to isolate.
Because we have dared to speak truths the powerful do not wish to hear.
The bullet and the bag
That night in Johannesburg, I crawled back to my car, bleeding.
I had offered everything — wallet, keys, car. But when I said, “just leave my bag”, they pulled the trigger.
What they wanted was not my possessions — it was my silence. They could not stomach the audacity of someone like me asking for more than mere survival.
And that is exactly where South Africa finds itself now.
We’ve said: Take your trade deals — we’ll still talk peace.
We’ve said: We’ll engage with China — but we’ll also remain open to the West.
We’ve said: We are non-aligned — not hostile.
But when we asked for our bag — our voice, our dignity, our seat at the table of global justice — they reached for sanctions.
And now the gun is cocked.
This is the real danger
The true threat is not sanctions — it’s amnesia. Forgetting that our democracy was not a donation from the West, but the fruit of blood, prayer, protest and sacrifice.
The danger is mistaking pressure for partnership. It’s believing our legitimacy is measured by how well we echo Washington’s voice.
Let the record show: when we were fighting apartheid, they said, “Not yet.”
When we fight for Palestinian lives, they say: “Not you.”
We will not die quietly
That night, I should have died. But I didn’t.
And neither will this democracy.
So let the gun be cocked. Let the threats fly. We will not trade dignity for convenience. We will not barter sovereignty for appeasement. We will not be pawns in someone else’s game.
And we will not die quietly — not in the street.
And not on the world stage. DM