MALAIKA MAHLATSI | Zuma is playing the victim card once again

For a few weeks, between March and May 2006, SA was the theatre of a heartbreaking story.

A young woman, known then only as Khwezi, had accused the then former deputy president of the country and the ANC, Jacob Zuma, of rape.

Khwezi was the daughter of Judson Kuzwayo, a liberation hero who had spent a decade behind bars, alongside Zuma. Kuzwayo would die in 1985, leaving behind a barely 10-year-old Khwezi to be protected by his comrades – as any freedom fighter would expect from those with whom he served.

But on November 2 2005, in the leafy suburb of Forest Town, Johannesburg, Kuzwayo’s comrade, Zuma, did not have the protection of the then 31-year-old Khwezi in mind.

What he had in mind was seeing Khwezi naked. At the trial, a few months later, he would claim that Khwezi seduced him by prancing about the house wearing nothing but a kanga – a loose-fitting cloth that is worn by women as a skirt, dress, headwrap or apron. According to him, they would then engage in consensual sex. But Khwezi would tell a different story – that Zuma, her late father’s friend and a man she regarded as an uncle, forced himself on her. That he raped her.

Every day from March 6 to May 8, hundreds, sometimes even thousands, gathered outside the court in support of Zuma. Many of them, adorned in ANC regalia, held up placards not only declaring their unwavering support for the man who was standing trial for one of the most egregious crimes imaginable but also condemning the young woman who was making the accusation.

The most famous of these read: “How much did they pay you, nondindwa?” The word translates to “whore”. Another read: “Burn this bitch!” Not since the inquisition had a woman been so publicly and so viciously vilified. But the attacks on Khwezi didn’t end at the Johannesburg high court.

The threats didn’t end with posters. When her identity was discovered, her home in Durban was burnt down by Zuma's supporters. She was forced to flee to exile, being granted asylum in the Netherlands. She would live outside SA for many years, returning to the country just a few years before she died in 2016.

Zuma, who had received incredible support during the trial, was acquitted of the rape charge. And just over a year later, he would go on to be elected as the president of the ANC at its 52nd National Conference in Polokwane.

Zuma’s rise to power had been anchored, in part, on the narrative that he had been victimised by then-president, Thabo Mbeki, who had allegedly abused his power by influencing Zuma to be charged with rape and other crimes. Zuma’s supporters, including leaders of the Mass Democratic Movement, were adamant that he was a victim of the system – that he was being persecuted because he was a simple man. Zuma played this card extremely well.

He transformed from a man who had stood trial for rape and who had corruption charges against him, to a martyr. He became a symbol of persecution – a representation of black men who were being destroyed by the system. He played the card so well that he would play it many more times in his political career. And each time, it would pay dividends.

On Sunday evening, as I watched him address a press conference to discredit the outcome of the 2024 general elections, something that he has been doing for weeks, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Here was a man who people had burnt down a woman’s house for, a man in whose name the country was brought to its knees in July 2021, making subtle threats of revolt.

Here he was, the perpetually persecuted, playing the victim card once more. And I couldn’t help but wonder if it would, as it always seems to, work for him. The making of this monster that knows how to play victim started in 2006. Almost two decades later, the monster continues to be fed.

Zuma’s rise to power had been anchored, in part, on the narrative that he had been victimised by then-president, Thabo Mbeki, who had allegedly abused his power by influencing Zuma to be charged with rape and other crimes. Zuma’s supporters, including leaders of the Mass Democratic Movement, were adamant that he was a victim of the system – that he was being persecuted because he was a simple man. Zuma played this card extremely well.

He transformed from a man who had stood trial for rape and who had corruption charges against him, to a martyr. He became a symbol of persecution – a representation of black men who were being destroyed by the system. He played the card so well that he would play it many more times in his political career. And each time, it would pay dividends.

On Sunday evening, as I watched him address a press conference to discredit the outcome of the 2024 general elections, something that he has been doing for weeks, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Here was a man who people had burnt down a woman’s house for, a man in whose name the country was brought to its knees in July 2021, making subtle threats of revolt.

Here he was, the perpetually persecuted, playing the victim card once more. And I couldn’t help but wonder if it would, as it always seems to, work for him. The making of this monster that knows how to play victim started in 2006. Almost two decades later, the monster continues to be fed.