EFF leader Julius Malema. Photo: X
The recent spectacle emanating from the White House, where President Donald Trump confronted South African President Cyril Ramaphosa with a video of Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) leader Julius Malema singing, purportedly as “proof of white genocide,” was more than a diplomatic incident; it was a profound act of inadvertent self-revelation.
What Trump probably intended as a damning exposé of societal ills in South Africa inadvertently illuminated the bemusing congruence between himself and the very figure he sought to condemn. Despite occupying vastly different ideological poles, Trump and Malema are, in essence, two sides of the same political coin: larger-than-life figures who wield hyperbole and spectacle to bend public discourse to their will.
Trump built his brand on disrupting norms, lambasting elites, and speaking in a vernacular that resonated with a segment of the American populace feeling unheard. His rallies are choreographed performances, his pronouncements often designed more for shock value and media capture than for precise policy articulation.
Malema, too, is a showman par excellence. From his early days as a firebrand youth leader in the ANC to his role as the self-styled “commander-in-chief” of the EFF, Malema has consistently pushed boundaries, employing confrontational rhetoric that electrifies his base and forces opponents to react. He thrives on controversy, using provocative statements and symbolic gestures, such as the controversial “Kill the Boer” chant, to rally support for his vision of radical economic transformation and social justice. Malema is “the firebrand who shapes South Africa’s discourse” and the similarities between the playbooks of Malema and Trump extend to their shared habits of insulting opponents, employing crude and vulgar language and using open-ended sentences and veiled incitements to violence.
The core of their shared political artistry lies in their strategic deployment of hyperbole. For Trump, every challenge is a “witch hunt,” every unfavorable media report “fake news” and every policy critique an existential threat to the nation. This exaggerated language simplifies complex realities into digestible narratives of victimhood and heroism, positioning himself as the sole defender against perceived adversaries.
Similarly, Malema employs stark, often revolutionary, language to frame South Africa’s systemic inequalities as a direct continuation of colonial and apartheid injustices, demanding radical solutions like land expropriation without compensation. While South African courts have ruled that the “Kill the Boer”, in its historical context, does not constitute hate speech or a literal call to violence, its very ambiguity allows it to be interpreted and leveraged by different actors for different ends — a dynamic both Malema and Trump understand implicitly.
What makes Trump’s recent White House stunt so profoundly ironic is that in attempting to expose Malema, he merely exposed his own methods. The “ambush” of Ramaphosa with a video clip was a calculated act designed to dominate the narrative and assert a particular, unsubstantiated, viewpoint. This is the very essence of both Trump and Malema’s political styles: the transformation of political discourse into a dramatic spectacle, where facts are often secondary to emotional impact and media virality. They are both adept at wielding “alternative facts” and “dog whistles”, using carefully constructed ambiguity to appeal to their base while maintaining a degree of plausible deniability.
This mutual reliance on political theatre, despite their opposing ideological agendas, is a critical lens through which to understand contemporary populist movements worldwide. Whether it is the right-wing nationalism espoused by Trump or the radical left-wing populism championed by Malema, the playbook often involves bypassing traditional political discourse, appealing directly to raw emotion, and manufacturing continuous engagement through engineered controversy. They both thrive on being perceived as “outsiders” challenging a corrupt system, even when they occupy positions of significant power or influence.
The political world watched Ramaphosa’s composed response to Trump’s calculated ambush. Yet, the wider public must scrutinise not only the content of such stunts but also the shared theatrical impulses that drive them. When one larger-than-life, stick-it-to-the-man figure attempts to discredit another by highlighting their provocative rhetoric, it is not merely a diplomatic incident; it is a curtain-drawing moment. It reveals the shared DNA of political personalities who understand that in the age of constant information flow, it is often the most audacious, the most hyperbolic, and the most dramatic performance that captures the public imagination, for better or for worse. The true “genocide” we face might not be of a specific race, but of nuanced debate and factual integrity, orchestrated by those who understand the formidable power of the political stage.
Lindani Zungu is a Mandela Rhodes scholar pursuing a master’s in political studies and is the editor-in-chief of the youth-oriented publication, Voices of Mzansi.