Thirty-eight people murdered in three mass shootings in less than a week. Seventeen in Wedela, 10 in Lwandle and another 11 near Durban. Groups of armed men arrive, open fire, leave bodies strewn across the floor and disappear. The police announce investigations. Politicians express outrage. South Africans wonder if anybody will ever be convicted.
How did South Africa arrive at this point? Poverty, inequality, organised crime and the availability of illegal weapons are important explanations. But equally important is the weakness of the institutions responsible for detecting crime and punishing offenders.
Over the years the criminal justice system has become one in which accountability is occasionally achieved but frequently delayed and sometimes almost entirely absent. The implications reach beyond corruption into the broader question of respect for the law.
Some of that weakness derives from decades of discriminatory apartheid legislation. Democracy presented a grand opportunity to draw a line under that ignominious past. And then the 1999 arms deal happened.
The deal became one of the first major tests of whether democratic South Africa could investigate politically connected individuals and bring them to justice. The subsequent record of prosecutions, extraordinary delays and abbreviated prison terms illustrates how badly that test was failed.
Get-out-of-jail cards
Schabir Shaik was convicted of fraud and corruption in 2005 and sentenced to 15 years in prison. He was released on medical parole after serving about 28 months. Former ANC chief whip Tony Yengeni was convicted of fraud in a related case and sentenced to four years. He served just over four months. Senior ANC figures joined a welcoming reception as he left jail.
There is no evidence that these releases directly caused subsequent violent crime. But they contributed to a perception that the consequences of criminal conduct depend partly on who you are. The expectation that crime might be worth the risk is a dangerous thing to encourage.
And the arms deal saga is far from over.
The prosecution of Jacob Zuma has been delayed by years of litigation and procedural challenges. The case is now scheduled to move towards trial in 2027, almost three decades after the original procurement arrangements. Such delays undermine the ability of the courts to deliver justice. Evidence becomes harder to recover, witnesses die and public confidence deteriorates.
Then there was the disbanding of the Scorpions in 2009 and its replacement by the Hawks. It is difficult to quantify precisely how much investigative capacity was lost. But South Africa was reorganising its specialist law enforcement institutions at the very moment it needed them most.
The subsequent history of commissions of inquiry tells its own sorry story.
The Seriti commission, appointed to examine the arms deal, concluded that there was no evidence of corruption in the procurement process. In August 2019, the Pretoria high court set aside its findings, ruling that it had failed to conduct the investigation properly. A commission intended to resolve questions about corruption had produced conclusions that could not survive judicial review.
Zondo’s encouraging record
Then came the Zondo commission, whose extensive hearings documented state capture on an altogether grander scale.
Here the record is considerably more substantial. The commission produced a detailed account of the manipulation of public institutions and state-owned enterprises. Its findings generated criminal investigations, prosecutions and financial recoveries.
But the criminal results have been painfully slow. The presidency reported in July 2025 that prosecutors were dealing with 218 criminal investigation recommendations. But at the time, only about 20% had been finalised or enrolled for trial. Four state capture-related cases had concluded with guilty verdicts. The authorities had also recovered almost R11bn in public funds.
Recovering public money is valuable. But the limited number of completed criminal prosecutions suggests South Africa has proved rather better at exposing corruption than punishing it.
This is where the Madlanga commission into criminal infiltration and interference in the justice system represents a potentially important breakthrough. It has been referring matters for immediate investigation while continuing to hear evidence. And police have already made arrests (though some concern separate alleged offences). Its second interim report recommended further urgent investigations and possible criminal proceedings.
This represents an important change. The authorities are no longer necessarily waiting for a commission to conclude before investigators begin acting on evidence.
There is an uncomfortable irony here. The Madlanga commission is investigating allegations of criminality within the very institutions responsible for protecting citizens from crime. If police officers are involved in criminal networks, or investigations can be improperly obstructed, the consequences extend far beyond the individuals concerned. The entire system of accountability is compromised.
And South Africa’s investigative record is deeply troubling.
The police service’s annual report for 2024/2025 says that suspects were charged — not necessarily convicted — in just 10.13% of cases investigated or still under investigation. It illustrates the enormous burden confronting detectives.
There is a huge economic price. The World Bank estimated in 2023 that crime cost South Africa at least 10% of GDP annually through stolen property, security expenditure and lost economic opportunities. Businesses spend fortunes protecting themselves; poorer South Africans cannot afford the same.
Milestones in a sad history
South Africa has spent an astonishing amount of time investigating the failures of its criminal justice institutions. Seriti, Zondo and now Madlanga are milestones in a long and frequently dispiriting history. Yet they also demonstrate that the country retains institutions capable of exposing wrongdoing.
Madlanga offers the prospect of connecting that exposure more quickly to criminal investigations. Its success will ultimately be measured by sustainable convictions and the restoration of institutional integrity.
For the families of those murdered in Wedela, Lwandle and KwaMakhutha, the distinction is painfully practical. They want the killers identified, arrested and convicted.
The country has accumulated enough commissions and evidence of wrongdoing. What it needs now is a criminal justice system that makes the prospect of punishment sufficiently certain to change the calculations of those contemplating crime.
