On 21 March South Africa celebrates Human Rights Day, marking a day in 1960 when 69 people were killed, and 180 were wounded protesting against the pass laws. This is a reminder of the struggles of our apartheid past, particularly the Sharpeville massacre. This day marked ordinary people rising in unison to proclaim their rights. It became an iconic date in our country's history, a reminder of both our treasured human rights and the immense cost paid to secure them.

With the advent of democracy in 1994, South Africa adopted a progressive Constitution that enshrines human rights at its core. The Bill of Rights guarantees fundamental freedoms to all individuals, emphasising the right to life, human dignity, equality, and freedom. These rights apply to everyone in South Africa, regardless of nationality, race, or legal status.

The promise betrayed

Despite our Constitution being regarded as one of the most progressive in the world, we witness gross human rights violations at various levels, often by the very institutions entrusted with upholding these rights. Law enforcement agencies, government structures, and businesses that should serve the public increasingly feature as perpetrators of human rights violations. The Madlanga Commission of Inquiry, established in July 2025, has laid bare a disturbing nexus between politics, business, and law enforcement. The commission arose after KwaZulu-Natal’s police commissioner, Lieutenant-General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi, made serious allegations against suspended Police Minister Senzo Mchunu and suspended Deputy National Commissioner Shadrack Sibiya. Mkhwanazi accused them of meddling in police investigations linked to the Political Killings Task Team (PKTT) and potentially protecting criminal syndicates. What has since emerged is a web of infiltration and influence involving controversial businessmen like Brown Mogotsi and Vusi “Cat” Matlala, who allegedly infiltrated politics and the police force for personal gains.

The anatomy of state capture: The Tembisa Hospital scandal

Perhaps nowhere is the human cost of this criminal nexus more visible than in the R2 billion Tembisa Hospital tender fraud. At the centre of this scandal stands businessman Hangwani Morgan Maumela. The Special Investigating Unit (SIU) has uncovered significant irregularities across 1 728 bundles worth over R816 million, tracing 41 suppliers linked to Maumela’s operations. The diversion of hospital funds has constitutional consequences. Section 27 of the Constitution guarantees access to healthcare services. When funds allocated to public hospitals are siphoned into private bank accounts, patients are subjected to longer waiting times, medicine shortages and malfunctioning of medical equipment. This undermines the right to healthcare services for patients and entrenches already existing inequalities, as well-off citizens can seek private care while the poor remain trapped in underresourced healthcare institutions. Corruption in this regard is therefore not simply an economic crime; it is a structural violation of equality and human dignity.

The silencing of whistleblowers 

This human rights violation extends further to those who dared to expose the truth about crime and corruption. In August 2021, Babita Deokaran, a Gauteng Department of Health official, halted R850 million in suspicious payments to companies linked to Tembisa Hospital. She had uncovered a sophisticated extraction network draining public health funds intended for the poorest communities and called for a forensic investigation. Eleven days later, she was shot dead outside her Johannesburg home. Her murder represents not only the violation of the right to life, but also an assault on freedom of expression and democratic accountability. Whistleblowers are citizens exercising their constitutional freedom to expose wrongdoing in the public interest.  

Another witness who was ‘silenced’ was Marius van der Merwe, a former Ekurhuleni Metropolitan Police Department official who testified before the Madlanga Commission as witness D. His testimony implicated suspended EMPD deputy police chief Julius Mkhwanazi. Soon after, he too was murdered. Another witness, who happens to be with the Independent Police Investigative Directorate (Ipid), broke down during her testimony after revealing that her son was shot while she investigated EMPD officers. Collectively, these incidents exemplify how exposing corruption invites unwarranted death, undermining the very principles of human rights.

Power elite nexus at play

To comprehend these events, we must turn to the work of sociologist C Wright Mills, who analysed the relationship between what he termed the “power elite”. Mills argued that American society was dominated by an interlocking triumvirate of corporate, military, and political leaders whose interests fused into a self-serving ruling class. This framework, particularly his insights on the military-industrial complex offers a powerful lens for understanding the aforementioned web of corruption in South Africa.

In South Africa today, we see a variation of this phenomenon in which law enforcement, politicians, and criminal enterprises intersect. The Madlanga Commission revelations show how businessmen like Maumela, Matlala, and Brown infiltrated state institutions for personal enrichment at the expense of the poor. When law enforcement agencies, political figures and criminal syndicates are in cahoots and whistleblowers are assassinated, we witness the South African manifestation of Mills’s power elite operation. When those entrusted with protecting citizens become entangled with those exploiting public funds, the right to equality before the law collapses. The law ceases to function as a neutral arbiter and instead becomes a shield for the powerful.

Conclusion: The unfinished struggle for human rights