By Zamikhaya Maseti
President Donald Trump’s second coming as the 45th President of the United States has sent shockwaves across the globe.
Within days of taking office, he wielded his executive power with unrestrained force, signing a barrage of Executive Orders that sent ripples through international geopolitics.
South Africa, the African continent’s largest economy, was not spared his wrath.
Trump’s approach was nothing short of a political gaslighting spectacle—South Africa found itself at the receiving end of an agenda that had little to do with diplomacy and everything to do with retaliation.
To many, the rationale behind Trump’s brand of Conservative Republicanism remains perplexing—a reckless ideology whose long-term consequences on the geo-trade and global political economy cannot be overstated.
His regime-change-driven executive orders are not merely policy decisions, but carefully orchestrated disruptions designed to destabilize international cooperation.
When it comes to South Africa, Trump’s agenda is clear and vindictive—a punitive reaction to the country’s audacious move at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) against Israel. South Africa’s historic case shook the international community to its core, exposing Israeli excesses in an manner unprecedented.
Netanyahu, still licking his wounds from this international humiliation, found in Trump a willing enforcer. And so, Trump struck back—not out of principle, but because Elon Musk whispered into his damaged ear, feeding him a convenient excuse to mask the true game at play.
Trump’s political grandstanding included a laughable promise during his campaign—an arrogant claim that he would resolve the Ukraine war with a mere phone call. He vowed to tell President Zelensky, “Stop it!” and to Netanyahu, “Enough!” A political prank of epic proportions, and yet, some fell for it.
The truth? Trump’s egregious Conservative Republicanism is nothing more than a hyper-nationalistic, America-First economic deception—a self-serving ideology rooted in the flawed myth of American exceptionalism. It operates under the dangerously misguided assumption that the global economy hinges solely on the U.S. economy and that all others must fall in line.
His erratic tariff wars, driven by this economic narcissism, backfired spectacularly. Canada and other affected nations, unwilling to be bullied, pushed back hard. South Africa, punching well above its weight, stood firm.
To borrow from isiXhosa wisdom: “Igwala kulo Nina”—a coward seeks shelter in his mother’s homestead. South Africa refuses to cower. President Cyril Ramaphosa made this clear in his unequivocal State of the Nation Address (SONA) on February 6, 2025.
But Trump’s ambiguous stance on President Vladimir Putin remains one of the most confounding aspects of his foreign policy. Why the strategic vagueness? What is the real endgame?
A closer analysis unravels layers of deception, political acrobatics, and the hidden hand of the American military-industrial complex. To gain a deeper understanding of Trump’s endgame, let’s dive into three possible hypotheses.
Hypothesis One: Trump’s Conservative Republicanism is Dictated by America’s War Economy Interests.
Trump’s so-called peace rhetoric on Ukraine was never a genuine offer—it was an empty campaign gimmick. The reality is that the war economy is simply too lucrative for America’s defence sector.
According to the UK-based Economics of Peace & Security Journal (2024), the Ukraine war generated over $75 billion between 2022 and 2023, with the lion’s share of defence contracts funnelled directly to U.S. arms manufacturers. NATO’s military procurement boom meant increased production of fighter jets, defence systems, and ammunition, further entrenching Europe’s dependence on American defence technology.
The American military-industrial complex, the true architect of U.S. foreign policy, will not allow Trump to end this war on a whim. Trump, for all his bravado, is boxed in—trapped within an industry that builds high walls he cannot scale, no matter how high he jumps. A total U.S. withdrawal from Ukraine would spell disaster for corporate profits, job markets, and America’s geopolitical leverage.
This is the centrality of my first hypothesis—Trump’s strategic ambiguity toward Ukraine is not incompetence. It is calculated obedience to the war economy.
Hypothesis Two: Trump Will Turn on Vladimir Putin.
Trump has long played the hyena’s game, pretending to be Putin’s friend while simultaneously undermining him. But his “friendship” with Russia is a mirage—a transactional alliance with an expiry date.
Trump’s America-First doctrine thrives on conflict-driven economic gains. The U.S. military-industrial complex and energy interests demand continued confrontation with Moscow, not peace. If political expediency dictates it, Trump will throw Putin under the bus. The notion of permanent friendships in politics is laughable—Trump’s loyalty extends only as far as his interests are served.
The war economy has been too profitable for Trump to go against the tide. Mark my words: Trump will not hesitate to adopt a hawkish stance against Russia when it suits him.
Hypothesis Three: Elon Musk is a Willing Agent of Egregious Conservative Republicanism in Africa.
Many may scoff at this idea, dismissing it as outlandish. But read my lips—Elon Musk is not just a businessman; he is a political actor deeply embedded in the extension of Trump’s ideological machinery into Africa.
Musk strategically reinstated Trump’s social media account when he bought Twitter and rebranded it X, securing a direct line of communication between Trump and his base. But his ambitions do not stop at social media influence—they extend into African geopolitics.
In South Africa, Musk has wittingly inserted himself into the gaslighting campaign of White conservative political factions—entities like the Democratic Alliance (DA) and AfriForum. His disinformation on South Africa’s land policies has done irreparable damage to the country’s global reputation and economy.
And this is just the beginning.
According to this hypothesis, Musk’s ultimate goal is regime change in South Africa. He will pour billions into the 2029 national general elections, backing a White Conservative candidate to restore the old order. By 2030, a post-1994 white presidency in South Africa is entirely plausible.
This is not paranoia—this is the political economy at play. Musk has positioned himself as a conveyor belt of the global conservative movement. What he did for Trump in the U.S., he will attempt to do in South Africa.
This scenario is deeply unsettling, but let it be clear—these are hypotheses, not prophecies. Scholars, activists, and political analysts must engage with these ideas, not dismiss them. As my old professor, Dr. Seshi Chonco used to say: “Read my lips.”
In the face of U.S. economic vulnerabilities, BRICS and G20 nations must act decisively. The geopolitical tectonic plates are shifting. Trump has miscalculated—his myopic economic nationalism ignores the seismic realignment of global trade and politics.
As economist Richard Wolff recently noted:
"The BRICS countries now represent more than half the planet’s population. Their total economic output already surpasses that of the G7. The U.S. is just 4.5% of the world’s population—its global dominance is fading."
Trump’s trade wars have unintentionally accelerated the global de-linking process—a movement once theorized by Samir Amin, Andre Gunder Frank, and Immanuel Wallerstein. The South is rising, and America’s hegemony is crumbling.
Now is the time. Igwala kulo Nina.
* Zamikhaya Maseti is a Political Economy Analyst and holds a Magister Philosophiae (M.Phil.) in South African Politics and Political Economy from the erstwhile University of Port Elizabeth (UPE) now Nelson Mandela University.
** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media.