Trump's South African misfires by Marja Heikkinen

In what appears to be yet another belligerent and impulsive move on the global stage, President Donald Trump with his rhetorical and economic arsenal came fully after South Africa again, slapping the country with a 30% tariff. It's a policy decision that reeks not just of economic short-sightedness, but of something more insidious, ignorance, prejudice, and a fundamental misunderstanding of South Africa’s position on the African continent and in global trade.

Let’s be clear: South Africa is not a backwater. It's not the caricature some Western politicians lazily reach for when they hear "Africa" a continent too often lumped together, flattened into a single narrative of poverty, instability, and desperation. South Africa, with all its post-apartheid complexity, remains one of the most advanced, best-equipped, and economically strategic nations in Africa. It has a modern financial sector, an established manufacturing base, and infrastructure that rivals many middle-income countries globally. It plays a central role in the Southern African Development Community (SADC), is a member of BRICS, and has long been a bridge between the Global South and the Western world.

Trump’s tariff move, if not born out of deliberate racism, certainly caters to a worldview that sees African nations as either subordinate or threatening, depending on the narrative of the day. And herein lies the deeper problem: this isn’t just about a 30% tariff. It’s about a worldview. A posture. A pattern.

From his "shithole countries" comment to his well-documented antagonism toward immigrants and black-majority nations, Trump has rarely hidden his contempt for countries that don't align with his vision of Western, white-dominated power. His South Africa stance follows a familiar script: economic punishment disguised as policy, laced with dog-whistles meant to stoke nationalist fires back home.

The irony? In punishing South Africa, Trump inadvertently punishes American companies that rely on South African imports, automobile parts, minerals like platinum and manganese critical to U.S. industry, and agricultural goods that feed into American supply chains. Tariffs are not abstract slaps on the wrist; they reverberate. They affect jobs, prices, diplomatic relations. They cause friction in a world already tilting toward fragmentation.

But more than the economics, the insult is intellectual. Trump’s move underestimates South Africa’s resilience, its global networks, and its ability to pivot diplomatically. South Africa is not isolated. It is not desperate for America’s crumbs. It can and likely will, turn more fully to China, to India, to its African neighbors, and yes, even to Europe, in search of more respectful trade partners. The United States may soon find itself excluded from conversations where it once claimed to lead.

To be sure, South Africa is not without its challenges, high unemployment, political infighting, energy crises but it is a nation with a robust democracy, an active civil society, and a population that has endured and overcome more than a tariff from Trump could ever represent. The country that dismantled apartheid, held Truth and Reconciliation Commissions, and maintains a functioning judiciary does not need lectures on legitimacy from a former president twice impeached and now convicted.

There’s also a generational insult here. South African youth, globally connected, tech-savvy, entrepreneurial, are watching. And what they see is not just a U.S. president’s economic decision, but a message: You don’t matter. Your country is expendable. That message, when internalized by the next generation of African leaders, will shape how they view the U.S. for decades. And it won't be favorably.

Trump’s 30% tariff is more than just a trade misstep. It’s a symptom of the deeper ailment that has plagued his foreign policy from the start: a tendency to weaponize ignorance, wrapped in the flag of “America First,” but driven by fear and prejudice. The irony, of course, is that such policies do not make America first, they isolate it, diminish it, and reveal it as petty and insecure.

South Africa will endure this. It always has. But America? Under the weight of such policies, it continues to chip away at its own credibility.


No comments:

Feast of Dew #ShortStory by Elizabeth West - Part II

Pao-yu awoke to a racket. At first, he had no idea where he was, and couldn’t identify the source of the noise. Rubbing sleep-dulled eyes, ...