Stress test: History will judge the Madlanga Commission not only by the eloquence of its final report but by whether its work translated into safer conditions for truth-tellers and more
credible prosecutions of those implicated in criminal acts. Photo: Delwyn Verasamy
As the Madlanga Commission of Inquiry resumes its work next week, the country enters a decisive phase in what has become one of the most consequential accountability processes confronting democratic South Africa in recent years.
With further testimony expected from implicated senior officers of the South African Police Service (SAPS) — including Lieutenant General Shadrack Sibiya, Major General Lesetja Senona and others — and the anticipated return of suspended Minister of Police Senzo Mchunu, the commission’s second and third phases will test whether the state is capable of defending the rule of law against internal sabotage and political capture.
At its core, the Madlanga Commission is not merely an exercise in fact-finding. It is a stress test of institutional integrity.
The allegations that precipitated its establishment, particularly claims of political interference aimed at disbanding the Political Killings Task Team (PKTT), strike at the heart of the criminal justice system. If substantiated, they reveal not isolated misconduct but a systemic effort to neutralise investigations into organised crime and politically connected violence.
Phase One testimony has laid bare a disturbing picture. Senior officers have described internal obstruction, compromised command structures and interference that appears calculated to frustrate sensitive investigations. Whether all the claims ultimately withstand evidentiary scrutiny remains for the commission to determine.
However, what is no longer in doubt is that the risks are real, immediate and grave — both to the integrity of investigations and the personal safety of witnesses who have come forward.
This is where leadership matters. As Phase Two and Phase Three unfold, SAPS leadership cannot afford to adopt a posture of passive observation, waiting for the commission to conclude before acting. The testimony delivered imposes an ethical and operational obligation to take precautionary measures now. To do otherwise would be to allow preventable harm — both institutional and human — to occur in plain sight.
An analysis of Phase One underscores three interlinked imperatives.
First, the protection of witnesses must be elevated from a procedural afterthought to a strategic priority. Witnesses who have testified and those yet to appear are not abstract sources of information; they are individuals confronting powerful networks with a demonstrated capacity for violence and intimidation.
In a context where political killings and organised crime intersect, witness protection cannot be treated as a narrow technical function. It requires political backing, adequate resourcing and strict operational independence.
Any perception that witness protection mechanisms are compromised or selectively applied will chill cooperation and irreparably weaken future prosecutions.
Second, the integrity of investigations must be actively shielded from internal interference.
The commission has heard credible accounts suggesting that seniority within the SAPS has, in some instances, been weaponised to obstruct rather than advance justice. This demands immediate remedial action: temporary reassignments, firewalling of sensitive case information and the tightening of command-and-control protocols around high-risk investigations.These are not punitive measures; they are precautionary safeguards consistent with best practice in any serious law-enforcement institution under scrutiny.
Third, political accountability must be separated from operational policing. The return of Minister Mchunu to conclude his testimony will be closely watched, not only for what he says in rebuttal of allegations but for what his conduct signals about respect for institutional boundaries.
Ministers have a legitimate policy and oversight role. They do not have a mandate to influence operational decisions, particularly those involving specific investigations or units such as the PKTT. The commission’s work has demonstrated how blurred lines between politics and policing corrode trust and effectiveness. Re-establishing the boundaries is essential, regardless of the commission’s eventual findings.
It bears emphasising that precautionary action does not amount to a presumption of guilt. On the contrary, it is precisely because the commission process must be fair, credible and untainted that protective measures are necessary. Allowing implicated officials unfettered influence over structures relevant to the allegations against them risks undermining the process and its outcomes.
In democratic systems, recusal and temporary limitation of powers are hallmarks of institutional maturity, not admissions of wrongdoing.
There is also a broader public-interest dimension. South Africans are not merely spectators to the Madlanga Commission; they are stakeholders in its success or failure. Years of endemic corruption, state capture and violent crime have eroded public confidence in law-enforcement institutions. Each commission of inquiry carries the implicit promise that truth will lead to consequence. When that promise is broken, cynicism deepens and impunity hardens.
The PKTT occupies a symbolic place in this landscape. Its work has been central to confronting politically motivated killings, especially in KwaZulu-Natal. Attempts — real or perceived — to weaken or disband it send a chilling message: Certain crimes, when politically inconvenient, are negotiable.
Phase One testimony suggests that resistance to the PKTT was not merely administrative but strategic. If this is borne out, then the commission’s findings will have implications far beyond individual culpability; they will speak to whether the state is willing to protect investigators who follow evidence into politically dangerous terrain.
As Phases Two and Three proceed, the leadership of the SAPS faces a choice. It can treat the commission as an external imposition, something to be endured until it passes. Or it can recognise it as an opportunity — perhaps the last credible one in this cycle — to demonstrate institutional self-correction. The latter path requires decisiveness: protecting witnesses, insulating investigations and signalling zero tolerance for interference at any level.
History will judge the Madlanga Commission not only by the eloquence of its final report but by whether its work translated into safer conditions for truth-tellers and more credible prosecutions of those implicated in criminal acts. The warning signs have been sounded under oath. To ignore them would be an abdication of responsibility.
Precaution is not optional. It is the minimum required to honour the courage of witnesses, the expectations of the public and the constitutional promise that no one — regardless of rank or political standing — is above the law.
Tebogo Khaas is founder and chairperson of Public Interest SA