There’s a tendency in our public life to reduce complex conversations to viral one-liners. That’s dangerous, especially when the subject is immigration and the figures involved are as polarising as Herman Mashaba and Operation Dudula.
A recent social media post that presented Mashaba as endorsing vigilante tactics is not only wrong; it does real harm by confusing a legitimate political argument with lawlessness. I say this not to defend Mashaba, but to insist on clarity: we owe voters honest debate and accurate reporting and we must call out both opportunism and intimidation wherever they appear.
Let’s be precise about what Mashaba has actually said. In recent comments, Mashaba made two clear points: he shares many South Africans’ frustration with an overwhelmed immigration system and he is adamant that responses must remain within the law. Reporting that collapses those two ideas into an endorsement of street vigilantism misleads the public and inflames tensions unnecessarily. In his most recent remarks, Mashaba warned that methods which take the law into private hands set a “dangerous precedent” asking rhetorically whether a movement that acts outside the law would, if in government, permit citizens to break laws simply because they were unhappy. That is not a call to violence; it is a warning against the normalization of lawlessness.
Mashaba’s broader record reflects the same tension. He has repeatedly argued for firm, state-led solutions: better border control, faster deportation processes for people with no legal claim to remain, and an overhaul of how Home Affairs functions. ActionSA’s policy output includes proposals to tighten deportation processes and insist that immigration be managed properly by the state rather than by citizens policing borders themselves. Those are policy positions, debatable, and in many instances blunt.
At the same time Mashaba has been explicit when condemning scapegoating and vigilante behaviour. He and ActionSA have warned against turning legitimate frustration into attacks on people who are already marginalised, noting that scapegoating foreign nationals merely deflects public anger from the government that has failed to manage migration and public services. That rhetorical balancing act tough on illegal immigration, but insisting on the rule of law, is political positioning, not hypocrisy. It’s also a critical distinction journalists must respect.
Why does this matter? Because misquoting a leader like Mashaba inflames an already combustible environment. Operation Dudula’s tactics from attempts to block migrants’ access to health services to intimidating traders who cannot prove their immigration status have prompted court orders and human-rights interventions. The Johannesburg High Court has issued interdicts aimed at preventing harassment and interference with access to services; provincial human-rights bodies and civil society organisations have mounted legal challenges in response to reported misconduct.
If we are serious about solving this crisis we must separate three things: the real failures of the state, the legitimate frustrations of ordinary people, and the illegitimate acts of intimidation by any group. The first requires policy, capacity and political accountability; the second requires leaders who channel anger toward constructive pressure on government; the third must be opposed by every party that respects constitutional norms. Conflating them or misattributing statements so that political leaders appear to legitimise violence makes it harder to build consensus for real fixes.
So where do we go from here? First, journalists and platforms must correct the record when misquotes appear and be clear about context. Editors: a corrected story is not a sign of weakness, it’s how trust is rebuilt. Second, politicians should be held to account for policy detail, not applause lines. If Mashaba and ActionSA want mass deportation and faster enforcement, demand a workable plan: how will due process be preserved; how will asylum seekers be distinguished from economic migrants; who pays for the administrative backlog at Home Affairs? Tough rhetoric without a roadmap simply hands extremists the argument that the system is broken beyond repair.
Finally, civil society, the courts and responsible political actors must push back against vigilantism. The rule of law is not an abstract principle to be invoked only when convenient; it protects everyone, including the most vulnerable. Preventing xenophobic violence means mobilising community leaders, improving policing where it is failing, and insisting that political debates about immigration remain within constitutional bounds.
Misquoting public figures may win clicks, but it costs lives. It risks nudging confused citizens toward dangerous choices and lets those who would intimidate their neighbours frame their actions as popular or sanctioned. We can and must do better. South Africa needs honest conversations, practical policy proposals and leaders who accept that patriotism is shown through competence and justice, not through the kind of lawless bravado that turns complex human crises into headlines.
If Mashaba’s recent remarks mean anything, it is this: being tough on policy does not mean being soft on the law. That distinction matters more than ever. And if MDN or any other outlet misquoted him, correct the record: readers deserve nothing less.
Misquoting Herman Mashaba helps nobody. Hold leaders and movements to account
There’s a tendency in our public life to reduce complex conversations to viral one-liners. That’s dangerous, especially when the subject is immigration and the figures involved are as polarising as Herman Mashaba and Operation Dudula.
A recent social media post that presented Mashaba as endorsing vigilante tactics is not only wrong; it does real harm by confusing a legitimate political argument with lawlessness. I say this not to defend Mashaba, but to insist on clarity: we owe voters honest debate and accurate reporting and we must call out both opportunism and intimidation wherever they appear.
Let’s be precise about what Mashaba has actually said. In recent comments, Mashaba made two clear points: he shares many South Africans’ frustration with an overwhelmed immigration system and he is adamant that responses must remain within the law. Reporting that collapses those two ideas into an endorsement of street vigilantism misleads the public and inflames tensions unnecessarily. In his most recent remarks, Mashaba warned that methods which take the law into private hands set a “dangerous precedent” asking rhetorically whether a movement that acts outside the law would, if in government, permit citizens to break laws simply because they were unhappy. That is not a call to violence; it is a warning against the normalization of lawlessness.
Mashaba’s broader record reflects the same tension. He has repeatedly argued for firm, state-led solutions: better border control, faster deportation processes for people with no legal claim to remain, and an overhaul of how Home Affairs functions. ActionSA’s policy output includes proposals to tighten deportation processes and insist that immigration be managed properly by the state rather than by citizens policing borders themselves. Those are policy positions, debatable, and in many instances blunt.
At the same time Mashaba has been explicit when condemning scapegoating and vigilante behaviour. He and ActionSA have warned against turning legitimate frustration into attacks on people who are already marginalised, noting that scapegoating foreign nationals merely deflects public anger from the government that has failed to manage migration and public services. That rhetorical balancing act tough on illegal immigration, but insisting on the rule of law, is political positioning, not hypocrisy. It’s also a critical distinction journalists must respect.
Why does this matter? Because misquoting a leader like Mashaba inflames an already combustible environment. Operation Dudula’s tactics from attempts to block migrants’ access to health services to intimidating traders who cannot prove their immigration status have prompted court orders and human-rights interventions. The Johannesburg High Court has issued interdicts aimed at preventing harassment and interference with access to services; provincial human-rights bodies and civil society organisations have mounted legal challenges in response to reported misconduct.
If we are serious about solving this crisis we must separate three things: the real failures of the state, the legitimate frustrations of ordinary people, and the illegitimate acts of intimidation by any group. The first requires policy, capacity and political accountability; the second requires leaders who channel anger toward constructive pressure on government; the third must be opposed by every party that respects constitutional norms. Conflating them or misattributing statements so that political leaders appear to legitimise violence makes it harder to build consensus for real fixes.
So where do we go from here? First, journalists and platforms must correct the record when misquotes appear and be clear about context. Editors: a corrected story is not a sign of weakness, it’s how trust is rebuilt. Second, politicians should be held to account for policy detail, not applause lines. If Mashaba and ActionSA want mass deportation and faster enforcement, demand a workable plan: how will due process be preserved; how will asylum seekers be distinguished from economic migrants; who pays for the administrative backlog at Home Affairs? Tough rhetoric without a roadmap simply hands extremists the argument that the system is broken beyond repair.
Finally, civil society, the courts and responsible political actors must push back against vigilantism. The rule of law is not an abstract principle to be invoked only when convenient; it protects everyone, including the most vulnerable. Preventing xenophobic violence means mobilising community leaders, improving policing where it is failing, and insisting that political debates about immigration remain within constitutional bounds.
Misquoting public figures may win clicks, but it costs lives. It risks nudging confused citizens toward dangerous choices and lets those who would intimidate their neighbours frame their actions as popular or sanctioned. We can and must do better. South Africa needs honest conversations, practical policy proposals and leaders who accept that patriotism is shown through competence and justice, not through the kind of lawless bravado that turns complex human crises into headlines.
If Mashaba’s recent remarks mean anything, it is this: being tough on policy does not mean being soft on the law. That distinction matters more than ever. And if MDN or any other outlet misquoted him, correct the record: readers deserve nothing less.