By Khanyisa Dunjwa (Social Justice Activist, writing in my personal capacity)
On May 21, President Cyril Ramaphosa is scheduled to meet with U.S President Donald. Trump in Washington. The official goal is to reset the strategic relationship between the two countries and explore the development of a new trade framework. But behind this is careful language lies a deeper concern: South Africa is walking into a dangerous gamble with a president who has made it abundantly clear that Africa, and South Africa is expendable in his foreign policy playbook.
Since reclaiming the White House earlier this year, President Trump and his Republican administration have moved swiftly and ruthlessly to undo years of cooperative efforts with South Africa. In the name of “America First”, Trump has slashed development aid, frozen key global health programs, and pulled U.S support form critical multilateral platforms. His inflammatory claims of “white genocide” in South Africa further fuelled diplomatic tensions revealed a deep ideological rift between the two nations.
Most devastating has been the abrupt withdrawal of funding form programs like Presidential Emergency for Aids Relief (PEPFAR), which provided over R7.8 billion annually for HIV/AIDS treatment, testing and prevention across the country. For communities already on the brink, the removal of U.S support has forced the South African government to revise its implementation plans – though critical funding gaps still remain.
This situation lays bare the vulnerability that still defines much of the Global South’s relationship with the United States. We remain caught in the crossfire of American political cycles. One administration funds and partners. The next abandons and penalises. We are treated less as partners and more as pawns – used when convenient and discarded when politically expedient.
And now, with South Africa hosting the G20 this year – a historic moment for African leadership on the global stage – President Trump has ordered his administration to withdraw all departmental participation. It’s a move that not only undermines the host country but signals the world that the US relations with South Africa is fractured. It’s a calculated snub.
Given this context, President Ramaphosa’s decision to travel to Washington feels misplaced. While some may argue that it reflects diplomatic maturity – a willingness to dialogue even when disrespected – there is a fine line between diplomacy and desperation. Meeting Trump on his terms without public preconditions or a clear show of national strength, risks sending the wrong message: that South Africa is willing to be humiliated in exchange for uncertain promises.
But the issues is bigger than any single meeting or administration. What we’re witnessing is a moment of reckoning for South Africa – and perhaps for many countries in the Global South. The withdrawal of U.S support should not only be a source of outrage, but it should also serve as a wake-up call.
We must begin to ask difficult but necessary questions. Why are we still so reliant on foreign funding for essential public health services? Why do we continue to build on our development frameworks around the policies and preferences of Western powers? And most importantly, what would a truly sovereign and self-sustaining South African foreign policy look like?
Imagine if South Africa shifted from a curative health care system and adopted a preventative model like Cuba’s – focused on community-based clinics, early intervention, and public health education. Cuba, despite limited resources, has built one of the most cost-effective and equitable health systems in the world by preventing illness before it becomes expensive to treat. If South Africa made this transition, we could significantly reduce our dependence on foreign aid for public health, especially for conditions like HIV and TB. Studies show that preventative systems can cut long-term treatment costs by up to 50 percent. For South Africa this could mean 40 to 60 percent reduction in foreign aid dependency over the next decade. The pressure on government would ease, and our vulnerability to shifting global politics – like the abrupt withdrawal of U.S funding – would decline. Imagine how different the meeting with Trump would be then – the desperation would be less, and the posture of engagement far more confident. This shift from curative to preventative healthcare isn’t just health reform; it’s a strategy for national resilience and diplomatic strength.
This moment presents an opportunity – a chance to reimagine who we engage with in the world and how we build resilience at home. We need to deepen our investment in regional collaborations, scale up intra-African trade, and solidify our ties within BRICS and the Global South. These relationships must be based on mutual benefit, not paternalism.
At the same time, we must prepare for the long-term consequences of this geopolitical whiplash. Even if the Democrats wins the U.S election in 2028 and attempts to restore relations, the damage caused by this Trump administration may be irreversible. Civil society partnerships that took decades to build may never be fully rebuilt. The message to the world will be clear: the United States is no longer a reliable partner.
That’s why the stakes are so high. This meeting is not just about optics – its bout power, dignity and strategy. If Ramaphosa choose to engage, he must do so not with hat in hand, but with the full weight of South Africa’s history and aspirations behind him. He must be prepared to say what needs to be said: that this country will not be bullied, bought or belittled – represent us not just in word, but in posture
Ultimately, this is not only about President Ramaphosa or President Trump. It is about what kind of nation we want to be. Do we bend at every turn of global wind? Or do we plant our feet firmly in our values, insisting that respect must go both ways?
We deserve meaningful partnerships, not charity. We deserve respect, not ridicule. And above all we deserve leadership that does not flinch in the face of power, but rises to meet it – calmly, clearly and courageously. South Africa has a choice in this moment. Let us choose sovereignty. Let us choose dignity. Let us choose the long road to freedom – again.
