There are two chilling moments in this week’s BBC story about the cold-blooded murder of a good man, a South African cop and father of five, on the N1 near Hammanskraal three years ago.
His name was Lt-Col Frans Mathipa. All evidence indicates that he was murdered by at least seven members of the special forces and a military police officer.
Twice while reporting on the story, the BBC approaches President Cyril Ramaphosa for comment on key aspects of the murder. Twice, he declines to comment.
Why can’t the president of South Africa issue a statement saying he condemns criminal behaviour and that the alleged killers will face the full might of the law? Why is the president of South Africa unable to warn all those in the armed forces involved in criminal or other illegal extracurricular activities that they are not above the law?
The BBC exposé is just the latest in a series of reports about this case. It is a story that breaks the heart, that leaves you infuriated and weak at the knees. It makes you ask: have the South African security forces gone rogue? Has the president lost control of the defence force, the spy agencies, police crime intelligence? Is he afraid of the state’s security apparatus?
Are the army generals running a parallel state, one where they can order the killing of a police officer with impunity? The Mathipa case suggests so.
Briefly, Mathipa — a senior detective in the Hawks — was shot twice in the head by trained sharpshooters using specialised weapons while he was driving on the N1 on August 6 2023. He had been expecting an attempt on his life after he began investigating the disappearance of Ethiopian Abdella Abadigga (an alleged Islamic State-militant-turned-intelligence-asset) and his bodyguard. He found evidence that Abadigga had been kidnapped by members of the special forces. He told his superior, Brig Paulina Sekgobela, at one stage: “Brigadier, you know, these people — they are going to kill me. I’m going to die.”
He was right. He was assassinated after being lured to a garage with promises of evidence in the case. Video footage captured some of the men who had tailed his car. Among them was an army officer, Lt-Col Sunnyboy Wambi, who had also been at the scene of the Abadigga abduction.
Police have now arrested Wambi, Brig-Gen Solomon Lechoenyo — the head of the special forces, who was promoted to the post after his arrest — and 10 others for involvement in Mathipa’s murder and/or the Abadigga abduction. Six of the 12 had their bail revoked and were ordered to turn themselves in to custody. The BBC reports that the military has refused to hand them over, and their lawyers say they are receiving treatment for mental health issues.
This is not an isolated case of the military going rogue and behaving with impunity. In January, defence minister Angie Motshekga, defence force chiefs and others ignored or defied the president’s instruction that Iran should not participate in the Brics “Will for Peace” naval exercise off Simon’s Town.
None of them has been held to account. They defy the president and get away with it.
In August last year, chief of the defence force Gen Rudzani Maphwanya met defence chiefs in Iran and reportedly pledged military and political support for Tehran. Ramaphosa issued a verbal slap on the wrist but did nothing more, and Maphwanya later hosted a huge military parade in his Limpopo hometown.
In the days after Maphwanya’s Iran visit, Rise Mzansi political analyst Lukhona Mnguni caused a storm when he said: “South Africa is ripe for a coup ... Generals have lost confidence in their commander-in-chief.” I think he was wrong then and he is wrong today, but he is not too far off the mark. What the Mathipa case tells us is that we have a defence force leadership — and perhaps a defence minister — who have given this unit a licence to kill. And they are shielding it from accountability.
Ramaphosa’s reticence in the face of Mathipa’s murder suggests that he is afraid of his army chiefs. Or he is a protector of the unit.
Either way, it is a very scary prospect.
