A few days ago, the world witnessed a disturbing and deeply embarrassing spectacle unfold in the Oval Office of the White House during a meeting between South African President Cyril Ramaphosa and former U.S. President Donald J. Trump. What was expected to be a respectful bilateral dialogue quickly degenerated into a one-sided tirade filled with baseless accusations, misinformation, and demeaning conduct from Trump.
The meeting took a dark turn when Trump launched into an unsubstantiated and frankly ridiculous claim that white Boers in South Africa were being systematically targeted and murdered in what he described as a campaign of ethnic cleansing and genocide. This narrative, which has long been peddled by right-wing extremists, is not only entirely false but absurd to the point of insult. Unfortunately, Trump’s claims did not stop there.
In a further astonishing display of ignorance and malice, Trump went on to accuse Julius Malema—the dynamic, controversial, and often misunderstood leader of the Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF)—of being a black supremacist, a racist, a terrorist, and a murderer. These accusations are completely without merit and constitute an intentional attempt to vilify a man who, despite his divisive rhetoric at times, is primarily driven by a commitment to justice, equity, and the empowerment of the disenfranchised in South Africa.
Malema is not a hate-filled ideologue; rather, he is a passionate and articulate voice for the poor and marginalized. He stands as a formidable force in South African politics, challenging the status quo and confronting both white and black elites alike. To millions, he represents hope, courage, and a bold vision for a truly liberated Africa. His pan-African stance and consistent opposition to xenophobia have earned him admiration from African immigrants in South Africa and beyond.
Yet Trump, choosing to demonize Malema for singing an outdated anti-Boer war song at a political rally, managed not only to miss the context but to turn the spotlight on Malema on a global scale—ironically boosting his profile. In trying to diminish him, Trump inadvertently elevated him to international prominence. Like the Biblical Joseph, what was meant for evil has turned into good.
Even more shameful was Trump’s presentation to Ramaphosa of a picture supposedly showing “1,000 white South African farmers murdered by black terrorists.” It was later revealed that the image in question was not even from South Africa but from a cemetery in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The implication was clear: Trump was not just misinformed but was actively misleading the public and attempting to humiliate the South African delegation with a false narrative.
The treatment of Ramaphosa was nothing short of an ambush. Trump talked down to him, interrupted him, mocked his diplomatic efforts in the Russia-Ukraine conflict, and tried to lecture him as though he were a subordinate. It was a deeply humiliating scene, unworthy of any President, let alone one representing a superpower.
There are those who believe Elon Musk—a South African native who has expressed disdain for the ANC—and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu may have influenced Trump’s perception. South Africa has taken Israel to the International Court of Justice over allegations of genocide against Palestinians, a move that has clearly ruffled feathers.
While Trump’s loyal MAGA base may have applauded his aggressive stance, many black and African supporters like myself were disheartened. For years, we have defended Trump against accusations of racism, believing in his mission to disrupt the globalist agenda and revive Christian values in America. However, this Oval Office episode has forced us to reflect deeply. Supporting someone who humiliates African leaders and perpetuates falsehoods is not only unwise but ungodly.
We must not forget that this isn’t Trump’s first troubling move. From wild geopolitical fantasies to reckless foreign policy maneuvers, the pattern is increasingly disturbing. He has alienated allies, provoked economic conflict, and now chosen to publicly shame an African leader on a global stage.
President Ramaphosa’s reaction to the ordeal was, unfortunately, equally troubling. His passive demeanor, awkward silence, and submissive body language have been described by Western media as “weak,” “cringeworthy,” and “cowardly.” In contrast to iconic African leaders like Nelson Mandela, Thomas Sankara, Murtala Mohammed, and Kwame Nkrumah—who would have stood firm and spoken boldly—Ramaphosa appeared out of depth, unwilling or unable to defend his nation’s dignity.
This episode mirrors a disturbing trend where African leaders are invited to the White House only to be belittled and patronized. President Zelensky of Ukraine, King Hussein of Jordan, and now President Ramaphosa have all suffered this indignity. This must come to an end.
The historical context of South Africa’s suffering under apartheid makes this all the more painful. The white Afrikaner minority, which oppressed the black majority for centuries, still controls much of the economy and land, despite being just 8% of the population. For Trump to portray this privileged minority as victims deserving of asylum is both laughable and deeply insulting.
If such humiliation had been directed at a Nigerian leader, I would not have remained silent. I would have delivered a forceful response, rich in historical context and unflinching in defense of my nation and continent.
As an African, I stand first for my people. And as much as I’ve admired Trump’s previous efforts to fight globalist forces, I cannot condone racism, bullying, or misinformation. Africa is rising, and the spirit of resistance—epitomized by leaders like Ibrahim Traore of Burkina Faso—is spreading across the continent.
Trump must remember that power is temporary, and true greatness lies in humility, justice, and empathy. Africa may not have America’s wealth, but we have God, and we have history on our side. Our time will come.
Let the world watch and remember: the stone the builders rejected shall become the cornerstone.
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Chief Femi Fani-Kayode is the Sadaukin Shinkafi, the Wakilin Doka Potiskum, a former Minister of Aviation, and a former Minister of Culture and Tourism in Nigeria.
