Corporate media’s war on truth
South Africa’s media no longer questions power, they punish those who do.
Written by: @SkyeZedA
In any society that values liberty, truth must be protected. Even when it is inconvenient. Especially when it is unpopular. Yet in South Africa, truth has become a punishable offence.
The recent unmasking of the anonymous X (formerly Twitter) user @twatterbaas by News24 reflects a broader and far more dangerous trend. This private citizen and former farmer posted regularly about state failure and the violent reality that South African farmers endure daily.
Some of these posts gained significant traction and caught the attention of Elon Musk, provoking outrage from the country’s political elite and establishment media. Twatterbaas was accused of spreading “lies to millions,” yet the majority of the content Musk engaged with was backed by video evidence.
Instead of acknowledging the issues raised, the media chose to target the messenger.
In an alarming exposé, News24 named the individual and his wife, revealed his location, exposed his work history and family businesses, and attempted to destroy his character. Rather than meaningfully engage with the substance of his posts, the article skimmed over the facts and focused on vilifying the man behind them.
This is not journalism. It is a tactic of fear, meant to silence and control. And it is a warning shot to every South African who values free thought.
Even more troubling is the justification by News24’s Editor-in-Chief, Adriaan Basson in a response to a post by Politicsweb (whose editor is James Myburgh) which pointed out that by News24 exposing Twatterbaas’ identity, they had effectively placed a target on his back. In a widely criticised reply, Basson wrote:
“Cry me a river, James. Replace ‘Twatterbaas’ with ‘Mashatile’ in this tweet (remember we revealed his luxury houses?) and post it again. You won’t, right? If you cannot see how exposing Jooste is newsworthy, you should never again call yourself a journalist.”
This comparison is not just flawed. It is dishonest. Paul Mashatile is the Deputy President of South Africa. He is a public official wielding real power. Twatterbaas is a private citizen sharing his views from behind a screen. Equating the exposure of a politician’s financial misconduct with the unmasking of a concerned citizen is an extraordinary display of journalistic malpractice.
The irony of Basson suggesting that Myburgh shouldn’t call himself a journalist, when it’s Basson who has so clearly abandoned the core ethics of the profession.
Basson went further, asserting:
“X is a publication. If you publish thousands of messages spreading disinformation, exaggeration, lies, racism and hate speech, with the attempt of influencing powerful men in the US government to punish a sovereign country, the public interest outweighs your right to anonymity.”
This is legally and morally false. X is not a publication. It is a platform. It does not commission or edit the content of its users. Claiming that it is a “publication” to justify targeting a private individual reflects either gross ignorance or deliberate misrepresentation. Both are dangerous traits in a senior media figure.
But this isn’t merely a media hit job. It is state-sanctioned intimidation.
The South African government has now formally entered the fray. In a statement released on its official website, the government “noted the investigation” into the X account and condemned what it called the “spreading of misinformation, racism and hate speech.” The mere fact that the state is issuing statements about the online activity of a private citizen should set off alarm bells in any society that dares to call itself democratic. When a government treats dissent as criminal and signals its support for media campaigns against individuals, we are no longer dealing with a free republic. We are inching closer toward a communist state reminiscent of Maoist China, where the party is absolute, dissent is treason, and citizens live in fear of saying the “wrong” thing.
This is not about countering falsehoods. It is about silencing embarrassment, and those who come too close to revealing the state’s sinister activities. It is about control.
It’s worth noting that the Public Investment Corporation (PIC), a government-owned asset manager that oversees the pension funds of South African civil servants, is the largest single shareholder in Naspers, the parent company of Media24, which owns News24. Its financial stake raises valid questions about the independence of media entities when reporting on the state. In environments where political and financial interests overlap, public trust in media impartiality becomes even more critical.
In a truly free society, the press acts as a check on power, not a sword in its hand. Yet South Africa’s dominant media institutions increasingly behave like ideological enforcers. They target dissenters while ignoring the abuses of the political class. When individuals are hunted for pointing out state failure, we no longer have a marketplace of ideas, but a narrative controlled and protected by those in power.
It is the soft totalitarianism of a society where nonconformity is crushed not by law, but by public shaming and state-aligned media.
The media’s justification for targeting this individual is that he is supposedly lying to the world about violent crime, farm murders, expropriation without compensation, race-based laws like BEE, and the violent rhetoric and chants routinely used by South African politicians - all of which they claim is misinformation being amplified to Donald Trump through Elon Musk.
The idea that the world’s richest man, born in South Africa and deeply connected globally, forms his entire understanding of South Africa from a single anonymous account is absurd. But it speaks volumes about the establishment’s fear, not of lies, but of truths that reach too far, too fast, and too wide.
But I digress.
What we do know is this:
1. Farm attacks are not a myth. They are a brutal, ongoing reality.
South Africa’s murder rate is 45 per 100,000. Among the highest in the world. The global average is around 6. On average, 77 people are murdered every day. 131 rapes are reported daily. Three children are murdered every 24 hours. These are not claims. They are official statistics from the South African Police Service.
Farm attacks occur almost daily, and farm murders on a near-weekly basis. These are not routine burglaries. They are often acts of extreme violence involving torture, rape, and murder.
Politicians chant about killing farmers in packed stadiums. These same sentiments are echoed on social media, where calls for violence are common. This isn’t just rhetoric. It’s happening. It has been happening for decades. And yet, according to the media, the attackers aren’t the problem. The politicians chanting for blood aren’t the problem. The mobs cheering for murder online aren’t the problem.
No. You are the problem.
You’re dangerous for noticing the connection between violent rhetoric and violent outcomes. You’re the one accused of perpetuating a dangerous narrative, not the people publicly threatening to confiscate land, chanting slogans of extermination, or openly reveling in the deaths of farmers on platforms visible to the entire world.
Brutal attacks on farmers, their wives, their children, and elderly parents should trigger national outrage. Instead, those who report them are treated as threats. Speaking about this is not an incitement to hatred. It is a demand for justice. But those who speak plainly are labelled extremists.
In 2018, during an interview at the Bloomberg Global Business Forum in New York, President Cyril Ramaphosa stood before the world and claimed, “there are no killings of farmers or white farmers in South Africa.” Instead of condemning this blatant falsehood, the media, including News24’s Pieter du Toit, rushed to his defence.
The president didn’t lie. You just weren’t enlightened enough to grasp what he really meant. The same press that now claims to fight disinformation, protected power instead of holding it accountable. And today, they accuse private citizens like Twatterbaas of spreading misinformation for simply highlighting the very rural crime crisis the president chose to deny.
So, who is really distorting the truth?
2. Race-based discrimination is alive and well in post-apartheid South Africa
South Africa’s laws still divide its people by race. According to the Institute of Race Relations’ Race Law Index, there are 142 race-based statutes in effect. Race-based laws such as Broad-Based Black Economic Empowerment (B-BBEE) and the Employment Equity Act ignore individual circumstances. A black millionaire is still classified as “previously disadvantaged,” while a poor white South African is excluded purely because of race. These laws don’t care about background, hardship, or merit. They care only about skin colour.
The media and political class hide behind soft-sounding words like “transformation” and “redress”, but it remains racial discrimination. It is a system that decides who gets opportunity based not on merit or need, but on melanin. This isn’t justice. It’s not even redress. It’s discrimination, repackaged to sound noble. The principle of equality before the law has been replaced with collective guilt and racial classification.
So, when someone points that out, how exactly is that misinformation?
3. Property rights are no longer guaranteed
In January 2025, President Cyril Ramaphosa signed the Expropriation Act into law. This allows the state to seize private property without compensation. It is a direct assault on one of the most fundamental tenets of a free society: the right to own and protect what is lawfully yours.
The state can now take what it wants from those it dislikes. That is not transformation. It is legalised theft.
The media rushed to reassure the public that there was nothing to be alarmed about. But many, including constitutional law experts, have raised serious concerns about the vague wording of the Act and the open-ended conditions under which the government can invoke it, calling for the Act to be repealed in its entirety. Since its signing, the mere existence of the law has emboldened opportunistic land invasions across the country, as if the state’s signal alone was enough to remove all restraint.
And still, the outrage is not directed at this dangerous legislation. It is aimed at those who dare to warn others about it.
4. Violent and racist rhetoric is openly used by South African politicians
Perhaps most disturbing is the violent and racially charged rhetoric coming from high-ranking political figures. Julius Malema, a sitting member of Parliament and leader of the Economic Freedom Fighters, has repeatedly chanted “Kill the Boer” at rallies. He has said that the time may come when he calls for the killing of white people.
Andile Mngxitama, also an MP, once threatened to kill white people, their children, and their pets. Minister Ronald Lamola stated publicly that the government could not guarantee the safety of white people should they refuse to relinquish their property.
President Cyril Ramaphosa has in the past stated in no uncertain terms that land must be taken without compensation and handed over to “our people”, openly endorsing the confiscation of land from minorities.
There is no shortage of further examples.
These are not anonymous internet trolls. They are members of government.
How many times must history repeat itself before the media stops pretending it doesn’t know where this ends? In Rwanda, state and media-driven hatred resulted in a genocide that claimed nearly a million lives in 100 days. In Nazi Germany, propaganda and dehumanisation laid the groundwork for the Holocaust. Genocide does not begin with guns. It begins with words. Why is stating this fact viewed as controversial?
Closer to home we have already seen how this story plays out.
In Zimbabwe, Robert Mugabe (long admired by South Africa’s ruling elite) used similar rhetoric to justify the violent confiscation of white-owned farms. Farmers were attacked, driven off their land, and in many cases, murdered. The rest fled. The consequences were devastating, not just for the victims, but for the country’s economy and food security. History has already shown us what happens when inflammatory speech becomes policy.
We can argue semantics all day, but when institutions normalise and justify this kind of rhetoric, they aren’t being neutral. They are complicit, and that complicity is evil at its core.
Liberty demands vigilance
A free society cannot function without truth, debate, and accountability. The role of journalism is to question power, not protect it. When journalists expose citizens for criticising the state, they become agents of coercion rather than defenders of liberty.
Liberty requires the courage to speak. The courage to listen. And the humility to accept that truth, however uncomfortable, must never be punished.
The story of Twatterbaas is not just about one man. It is about a country at a crossroads. South Africa can choose openness, debate, and reform. Or it can continue down a path where those who speak out are hunted, while those who fail the nation are protected.
The world must pay attention. Not to the whistleblower, but to the blazing fire they are pointing at.
@SkyeZedA is the X (formerly Twitter) username of a guest author that, considering the violent and hostile climate towards critics of the government, would prefer to remain anonymous.