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24 June 2025 | Story Zinhle Vanda | Photo Supplied
Zinhle Vanda
Zinhle Vanda is an honours student in Sociology at the University of the Free State and an emerging social justice activist.

Opinion article by Zinhle Vanda, an honours student in Sociology at the University of the Free State

 



Racial issues should not and cannot be ignored; however, the tendency to racialise every issue has been a problem, even when justice should be served. This can be emotionally exhausting, especially for a nation trying to heal from past racial oppression. Every time a high-profile crime or court case emerges, people hold their collective breath – not just for justice, but for what colour that justice will wear. But should we?

The case of Cwecwe, a young seven-year-old girl from Matatiele in the Eastern Cape, shocked the nation. One of the alleged key suspects was a white man. While the initial public response was rightly centred on justice for the child, the focus quickly shifted for some advocates. Instead of remaining united and calling out against gender-based violence, the case took a sharp turn towards a racial battle. This was slowly reflecting how South Africans pull out the ‘racial card’ in uncomfortable battles. This case had various accusations; some argued that the white suspect was being protected by the system and others defended his innocence. These allegations sparked social media comments such as, “If the victim was a white girl and the accused was a black man, the case would have taken a different direction.” What could have been a moment of national child protection advocacy has become yet another episode in South Africa’s long racial war. It is important to note that no charges or prosecution were brought against the man/men responsible after the investigation; the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) found no conclusive evidence to proceed with the case. The focus of this piece is on public judgment rather than proving guilt or innocence, and how public opinion – especially social media – sometimes overpowers the narrative, the true aim of justice, and the protection of victims like Cwecwe.

 

In these cases, justice is either seen as revenge or bias

In cases where the victim and suspect are of different races, justice is often not seen as justice, it is either seen as revenge or bias. Questions like was justice done? are no longer asked; instead, the question asked is, for whom was it done? The painful result is the actual issue of a child survivor of sexual violence fading into the background. The danger lies in letting race dominate every justice conversation, as it defeats the whole purpose of justice. This leads to the pain of those who are vulnerable, often women and children, being overlooked. This is what Kimberlé Crenshaw’s theory of intersectionality says – that multiple forms of oppression such as race and sexism can overlap, making people more vulnerable. Intersectionality is specific forms of intersecting oppressions, which could include intersections of race and gender, or of sexuality and nation. Intersectional paradigms say that oppression cannot be reduced to one fundamental type, and that oppressions work together to cause injustice. Intersectionality makes a bold argument that true justice means seeing all parts of a person’s identity, not just the most politically charged one. In cases where race become the core focus, issues such as gender-based violence or child protection are pushed aside, even when there is connection. Justice will never be served in a country like South Africa if the race of the accused takes precedence over the crime committed. We cannot shy away from the truth; black people have been oppressed in the past and may still be bleeding from this injustice. Intersectionality urges us to consider historical context in all aspects of our analyses, but this should not come at the expense of other crucial factors such as gender, children’s rights, criminality, justice, and others that are essential to understanding a case like Cwecwe’s abuse.

 

Being a criminal has nothing to do with skin colour

Will the battle of race end? Most of South Africa’s issues are the result of racial discourse, but not everything can be resolved through the racial lens. The amount of focus directed at race tends to defeat the means of justice and hinder national healing. This only weakens the nation’s unity and has the potential to affect coming generations. Justice should be characterised by fairness, equality, the truth, and accountability. It should not only wear a racial mask or be seen as revenge for past and present wounds or enable racial oppression. This highlights the need to critically examine how our understanding of justice is shaped by societal narratives, historical contexts, and collective experiences. The social constructivist theory of reality, developed by Peter L Berger and Thomas Luckmann in 1966, argues that social concepts such as justice are constructed through collective human interpretation and interaction, rather than existing as objective or universal truths. It looks at how people’s social understanding is shaped by social narratives and collective beliefs. This explain why certain crimes are viewed through the lens of race rather than justice, because of the social meaning attached to race and violence. According to this theory, people do not often react to facts, but they react to the social meaning that those facts carry. Apartheid is part of South Africa’s history, and it comes as no surprise that racial segregation remains a dominant narrative for its citizens. Furthermore, the social construction theory illustrates how this racial emphasis is not a natural reason, but rather a socially produced one. Thus, the racial image portrayed in the justice system often associates black people with violence and subordination, and white people are associated with innocence and protection. This leads to black victims not getting justice, and crimes against them remain forgotten. And black accused receive heftier prison sentences. Being a criminal has nothing to do with the colour of one’s skin; the focus should be more on the crime committed. Justice should be fairly applied; no one is above the law, and no race or colour should be treated as superior or inferior under it.

In conclusion, the public reaction to the Cwecwe case revealed how quickly racial narratives can shape public opinion, often before all the facts are known. The case became less about justice for a young girl and more about race. This reflects a broader issue in society, where certain groups are either unfairly protected or quickly condemned based on long-standing social and racial perceptions. The process of justice must be fair, with integrity, race must not dominate the facts. For a truly just society, the urge to draw conclusions based on racial identity must be resisted, and instead the principles of due process and equal treatment under the law must be upheld.

  • Zinhle Vanda is an honours student in Sociology at the University of the Free State. As an emerging social justice activist, she is committed to examining how societal narratives and power dynamics shape people’s understandings of race, justice, and inequality. She writes in her personal capacity. 

News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

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