Latest news with #WhiteAfrikaners
Yahoo
25-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Opinion - The racist ideology behind Afrikaners' red carpet treatment
I arrived in America on Feb. 9, 2011, with just one carry-on bag containing everything to my name: middle school certificates, some clothes and one white bag bearing the International Organization for Migration logo, holding a big badge with my name and our destination: Twin Falls, Idaho. My one-and-a-half-year-old nephew screamed from hunger. My sister-in-law, drained from days of travel and weakened by her own hunger, tried to breastfeed him as we waited for hours at JFK International Airport. We had no money and no guide. And I, then just a teenager, was the only one who could speak even a few words of English. Two days later, after a 10-hour delay in Detroit, we finally landed in Idaho. There was no press conference. No welcome speech. No camera crew. Just one driver from the local refugee center and a Nepali interpreter who took us to a run-down two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of town. Our new home was in a complex full of people like us — Black, Middle Eastern and other non-white families whose stories no one had ever asked to hear. That's what most refugee arrivals in America look like: quiet, tense, invisible. You're met not with celebration but with suspicion — from airport security, border officials, even bystanders. Staff roll their eyes when you ask where to go, what time your flight boards, or which gate to use. Strangers glare at you for your accent, your United Nations badge and the smell of exhaustion on your clothes. There is no dignity — just the constant fear of doing something wrong, of being reminded that you don't belong. I remember my mother crying softly in a corner, whispering to me: 'Let's go back to the refugee camp, we at least had dignity in camp.' On Jan. 20, the Trump administration effectively halted refugee admissions. But on May 8, it was announced that refugee status has been granted to 54 White Afrikaners. On May 12, the same day the Afrikaners arrived in the United States, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem announced the termination of temporary protected status for Afghanistan, stripping protections from more than 9,000 Afghans who had risked their lives working alongside U.S. forces. A senior official from the Department of State made a public speech welcoming to the U.S. the descendants of the people who colonized southern Africa. There was laughter, applause, and praise of just 'how well-behaved the children are.' The official even praised their 'culture,' a culture that, until the 1990s, upheld an apartheid government. It wasn't a refugee arrival. It was a spectacle — a carefully staged, Hollywood-style production of resettlement. Meanwhile, thousands of other refugees, mostly from the Global South, whose cases had been approved after years of rigorous vetting, have been quietly denied entry or had their resettlement canceled, leaving them in danger and legal limbo. On May 21, what was supposed to be a bilateral trade meeting at the White House with South African President Cyril Ramaphosa and his delegation quickly turned into a political ambush. Instead of engaging in serious dialogue about economic cooperation or South Africa's urgent domestic challenges, Trump used the moment to double down on discredited claims of 'white genocide' in South Africa. He dismissed Ramaphosa's explanations and showed no interest in the country's post-apartheid governance or the crime and inequality affecting both Black and white South Africans. It was never about addressing the crime rate, addressing poverty or protecting South Africans. It was a calculated performance, meant to reinforce a message to Trump's political base that, in a multiracial democracy, white people are the ones under threat. This performance on the global stage was neither about refugee protection nor principled refugee resettlement. It was about stoking fear and legitimizing a MAGA worldview that sees diversity as a threat. The resettlement of the Afrikaners broke decades of precedent outlined in the 1951 Refugee Convention and the 1980 U.S. Refugee Act, which together call for a fair admission with rigorous proof of political persecution. It's far from the standards many families like mine were held to. I've worked with thousands of refugees across the country, from Pennsylvania to Idaho, Utah and Ohio. As the founder of Refugee Civic Action, I spend every day helping newly arrived and naturalized Americans understand the rights, responsibilities and values of this country, believing that they, too, can become active participants in our democracy. In the last election alone, Refugee Civic Action engaged more than 27,000 former refugees who were new American voters. In recent days, I have been thinking about the Afghan father I mentored, who risked his life to support U.S. forces, who was forced to flee alone, leaving behind his two young sons in Taliban-controlled Kabul, and the mother I met through a refugee organization, who had fled China in fear for her daughter's life in Xinjiang, only to have their family reunification indefinitely stalled under this administration's policies. Historically, the U.S. has welcomed refugees for two primary reasons. One is geopolitical: during the Cold War, admission of those fleeing communism allowed America to assert itself as a beacon of democracy, and it took pride in that. My family benefited from the other, more enduring motivation: the humanitarian imperative to protect the persecuted. In 2008, the U.S. extended refuge to Bhutanese families like mine, offering a pathway to resettlement and safety. At its best, the refugee program reflects America's highest ideals. But this admission of white Afrikaners has nothing to do with either. This is about racial signaling. What we have seen in the case of the Afrikaners is a strategic, racialized provocation that twists the legal and moral foundations of refugee protections to serve a white nationalist agenda. The Afrikaners, by contrast, were ushered in — some in just three months — under the unfounded claim that they were victims of 'racial persecution.' This move is not merely a policy decision; it is a politically calculated act that aligns with the rhetoric of the Make America Great Again movement. First, it reinforces the narrative that white individuals are the true victims of globalization and competitive multiracial democracy. Second, it breathes new life into the 'great replacement' theory: the racist and unfounded belief that white Americans are being systematically replaced by rising nonwhite populations. By admitting white South Africans as refugees and victims of racial persecution, the Trump administration has sent a dangerous message that in a multiracial democracy, the loss of white dominance is equivalent to persecution — a narrative that has been actively promoted in public discourse by a fringe group of MAGA movements. In this narrative, South Africa becomes a warning of what awaits the United States should Black and nonwhite Americans gain political power, even though white South Africans still control a disproportionate share of the country's wealth, including an estimated 73 percent of private farmland. As America becomes a more diverse nation, those who equate whiteness with greatness see this shift not as progress, but as a threat. Congress must demand answers from the Department of Homeland Security and the State Department. On what grounds were white Afrikaners granted expedited status while thousands of others, many with proven claims of persecution, wait in limbo or are deported? Answering this question is not only essential to protect the integrity of the refugee system, but also to preserve the very foundation of a multiracial democracy. Lok Darjee is a former Bhutanese refugee from Nepal and the founder of Refugee Civic Action, a nonpartisan initiative mobilizing New Americans to participate in U.S. democracy. He is a freelance writer and commentator on democracy, immigration, refugee issues and foreign policy. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
The Hill
25-05-2025
- Politics
- The Hill
The racist ideology behind Afrikaners' red carpet treatment
I arrived in America on Feb. 9, 2011, with just one carry-on bag containing everything to my name: middle school certificates, some clothes and one white bag bearing the International Organization for Migration logo, holding a big badge with my name and our destination: Twin Falls, Idaho. My one-and-a-half-year-old nephew screamed from hunger. My sister-in-law, drained from days of travel and weakened by her own hunger, tried to breastfeed him as we waited for hours at JFK International Airport. We had no money and no guide. And I, then just a teenager, was the only one who could speak even a few words of English. Two days later, after a 10-hour delay in Detroit, we finally landed in Idaho. There was no press conference. No welcome speech. No camera crew. Just one driver from the local refugee center and a Nepali interpreter who took us to a run-down two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of town. Our new home was in a complex full of people like us — Black, Middle Eastern and other non-white families whose stories no one had ever asked to hear. That's what most refugee arrivals in America look like: quiet, tense, invisible. You're met not with celebration but with suspicion — from airport security, border officials, even bystanders. Staff roll their eyes when you ask where to go, what time your flight boards, or which gate to use. Strangers glare at you for your accent, your United Nations badge and the smell of exhaustion on your clothes. There is no dignity — just the constant fear of doing something wrong, of being reminded that you don't belong. I remember my mother crying softly in a corner, whispering to me: 'Let's go back to the refugee camp, we at least had dignity in camp.' On Jan. 20, the Trump administration effectively halted refugee admissions. But on May 8, it was announced that refugee status has been granted to 54 White Afrikaners. On May 12, the same day the Afrikaners arrived in the United States, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem announced the termination of temporary protected status for Afghanistan, stripping protections from more than 9,000 Afghans who had risked their lives working alongside U.S. forces. A senior official from the Department of State made a public speech welcoming to the U.S. the descendants of the people who colonized southern Africa. There was laughter, applause, and praise of just 'how well-behaved the children are.' The official even praised their 'culture,' a culture that, until the 1990s, upheld an apartheid government. It wasn't a refugee arrival. It was a spectacle — a carefully staged, Hollywood-style production of resettlement. Meanwhile, thousands of other refugees, mostly from the Global South, whose cases had been approved after years of rigorous vetting, have been quietly denied entry or had their resettlement canceled, leaving them in danger and legal limbo. On May 21, what was supposed to be a bilateral trade meeting at the White House with South African President Cyril Ramaphosa and his delegation quickly turned into a political ambush. Instead of engaging in serious dialogue about economic cooperation or South Africa's urgent domestic challenges, Trump used the moment to double down on discredited claims of 'white genocide' in South Africa. He dismissed Ramaphosa's explanations and showed no interest in the country's post-apartheid governance or the crime and inequality affecting both Black and white South Africans. It was never about addressing the crime rate, addressing poverty or protecting South Africans. It was a calculated performance, meant to reinforce a message to Trump's political base that, in a multiracial democracy, white people are the ones under threat. This performance on the global stage was neither about refugee protection nor principled refugee resettlement. It was about stoking fear and legitimizing a MAGA worldview that sees diversity as a threat. The resettlement of the Afrikaners broke decades of precedent outlined in the 1951 Refugee Convention and the 1980 U.S. Refugee Act, which together call for a fair admission with rigorous proof of political persecution. It's far from the standards many families like mine were held to. I've worked with thousands of refugees across the country, from Pennsylvania to Idaho, Utah and Ohio. As the founder of Refugee Civic Action, I spend every day helping newly arrived and naturalized Americans understand the rights, responsibilities and values of this country, believing that they, too, can become active participants in our democracy. In the last election alone, Refugee Civic Action engaged more than 27,000 former refugees who were new American voters. In recent days, I have been thinking about the Afghan father I mentored, who risked his life to support U.S. forces, who was forced to flee alone, leaving behind his two young sons in Taliban-controlled Kabul, and the mother I met through a refugee organization, who had fled China in fear for her daughter's life in Xinjiang, only to have their family reunification indefinitely stalled under this administration's policies. Historically, the U.S. has welcomed refugees for two primary reasons. One is geopolitical: during the Cold War, admission of those fleeing communism allowed America to assert itself as a beacon of democracy, and it took pride in that. My family benefited from the other, more enduring motivation: the humanitarian imperative to protect the persecuted. In 2008, the U.S. extended refuge to Bhutanese families like mine, offering a pathway to resettlement and safety. At its best, the refugee program reflects America's highest ideals. But this admission of white Afrikaners has nothing to do with either. This is about racial signaling. What we have seen in the case of the Afrikaners is a strategic, racialized provocation that twists the legal and moral foundations of refugee protections to serve a white nationalist agenda. The Afrikaners, by contrast, were ushered in — some in just three months — under the unfounded claim that they were victims of 'racial persecution.' This move is not merely a policy decision; it is a politically calculated act that aligns with the rhetoric of the Make America Great Again movement. First, it reinforces the narrative that white individuals are the true victims of globalization and competitive multiracial democracy. Second, it breathes new life into the 'great replacement' theory: the racist and unfounded belief that white Americans are being systematically replaced by rising nonwhite populations. By admitting white South Africans as refugees and victims of racial persecution, the Trump administration has sent a dangerous message that in a multiracial democracy, the loss of white dominance is equivalent to persecution — a narrative that has been actively promoted in public discourse by a fringe group of MAGA movements. In this narrative, South Africa becomes a warning of what awaits the United States should Black and nonwhite Americans gain political power, even though white South Africans still control a disproportionate share of the country's wealth, including an estimated 73 percent of private farmland. As America becomes a more diverse nation, those who equate whiteness with greatness see this shift not as progress, but as a threat. Congress must demand answers from the Department of Homeland Security and the State Department. On what grounds were white Afrikaners granted expedited status while thousands of others, many with proven claims of persecution, wait in limbo or are deported? Answering this question is not only essential to protect the integrity of the refugee system, but also to preserve the very foundation of a multiracial democracy. Lok Darjee is a former Bhutanese refugee from Nepal and the founder of Refugee Civic Action, a nonpartisan initiative mobilizing New Americans to participate in U.S. democracy. He is a freelance writer and commentator on democracy, immigration, refugee issues and foreign policy.
Mint
23-05-2025
- Politics
- Mint
‘Death…death…death': Did Donald Trump's 'genocide' claims to Cyril Ramaphosa mirror South Africa's reality?
In a dramatic and unexpected encounter on May 21, US President Donald Trump confronted South African President Cyril Ramaphosa in the Oval Office with a forceful, reality-TV style ambush. After cordial greetings, Trump abruptly ordered the lights to be dimmed and played a video purporting to show evidence of a violent campaign against white South African farmers. Trump then pulled out a stack of printed news articles, repeatedly murmuring 'death… death… death' as he handed them to Ramaphosa. US President Donald Trump holds a news article during a meeting with Cyril Ramaphosa, South Africa's president, not pictured, in the Oval Office of the White House in Washington on May 21. Trump rejected Ramaphosa's argument that there's no genocide against White Afrikaners, airing a video and showing images in the Oval Office that he said showed how they were beaten and killed. The video spliced together incendiary clips of opposition figure Julius Malema singing the controversial 'Kill the Boer' song and calling for land occupation, implying a racial genocide against white Afrikaners. Notably, Malema, the provocative leader of the Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF), secured only 9.5 per cent of the vote in South Africa's 2024 election. Former president Jacob Zuma, who now heads his own opposition party, uMkhonto weSizwe (MK), also appeared in the video, singing in Zulu: 'We are going to shoot them. They are going to run.' Ramaphosa, taken aback, said he had never seen the video before, which was originally circulated by South African-born billionaire and Donald Trump adviser Elon Musk. Ramaphosa arrived at the Oval Office prepared, accompanied by two champion white South African golfers, Ernie Els and Retief Goosen, and South Africa's richest man, Johann Rupert. The delegation's presence was a clear signal that Ramaphosa intended to defend his country's reputation robustly. South African President Cyril Ramaphosa attends a press conference after his White House meeting with US President Donald Trump in Washington. At the heart of the confrontation is South Africa's contentious land expropriation legislation, enacted in January 2025. The law allows the South African government to seize private land for public purposes, including land reform, with 'just and equitable' compensation. In some cases, the law permits 'nil compensation,' particularly if the land is abandoned or held purely for speculation. This law replaces a 1975 statute and aims to address the deep inequalities left by apartheid. According to an audit conducted in 2017 by the South African government, white South Africans—about 7 per cent of the population—still own over 70 per cent of the land. Trump sharply criticised the law, accusing South Africa of 'unjust racial discrimination' against white farmers and halting US aid in February 2025. Trump also signed an executive order facilitating the relocation of white South Africans to the US as refugees, with the first group arriving earlier this month. Ramaphosa and the African National Congress (ANC) reject claims that the law is arbitrary or discriminatory, insisting it is a measured policy designed to redress historical injustices while maintaining fairness. President Donald Trump meets South Africa's President Cyril Ramaphosa in the Oval Office of the White House Donald Trump's claims of a 'genocide' against white farmers have been widely rejected. South Africa recorded 26,232 murders in 2024, averaging 72 murders per day, making it one of the most violent countries globally, according to South African Police Service (SAPS) official crime statistics for the 2024/2025 period. Year Total Murders Recorded 2020 21,000* 2021 25,900* 2022 27,000* 2023 27,000* 2024 26,232 (*Estimated based on trends and partial data from official sources) However, farm murders in South Africa constitute a small fraction of this total. In the last quarter of 2024, police recorded 12 murders on farms, including those owned by Black smallholders, out of nearly 7,000 murders nationwide, the police data shows. Category Number of Murders Total Murders 2024 26232 Murders Last Quarter 7000 Farm Murders Last Quarter 12 Experts emphasise that the primary motive for farm attacks is robbery rather than racial targeting. Many attackers were quoted as saying in interviews that victims of all races were targeted for cash and valuables. The race of farm murder victims is not consistently recorded, but anecdotal evidence suggests both white and black farmers have been victims. The controversial video shown by Donald Trump included a drone shot of white crosses on a hillside, claimed to be a memorial for murdered white farmers. However, it is unclear where this footage was taken, and the Whitkruis Monument, which commemorates dead South African farmers, is located on private land. South Africa's crime situation remains dire despite recent improvements. The South African Police Service reported a 1.6 per cent reduction in violent crimes in the final quarter of 2024, including a near 10 per cent drop in murders compared to the previous year, as per analysis done by BusinessTech, a South African news outlet. Violent crime rates continue to be alarmingly high, with the bulk of offences concentrated in provinces such as Gauteng, KwaZulu-Natal, Eastern Cape, and Western Cape, as per South African Police data. Here is a textual representation of a graph showing the key crime statistics in South Africa in the third quarter of 2024 (October to December). This graph focuses on murder rates per 100,000 population by province. Eastern Cape | ██████████████████ 19.6 Western Cape | ████████████████ 16.0 KwaZulu-Natal | ████████████ 12.6 Gauteng | ██████████ 10.3 Free State | ████████ 8.9 Northern Cape | ███████ 8.1 (Note: Each '█' roughly equals 1.0 per 100,000 population) The majority of murder victims nationwide are poor, under- or unemployed young black males, reflecting a crime pattern more closely associated with socio-economic factors than race, reports the Guardian. South Africa's complex history of apartheid and economic inequality continues to fuel tensions, but the government insists on policies promoting equitable land distribution and crime reduction. President Donald Trump with South Africa's President Cyril Ramaphosa in the Oval Office of the White House International observers point out that the Oval Office meeting exposed starkly different narratives. Trump's presentation of selective evidence, including a misattributed video from Congo, aimed to portray South Africa as a country where white farmers are persecuted, while Ramaphosa countered with facts and context in the presence of prominent South Africans. The land expropriation law remains a sensitive issue in South Africa. But it remains to be seen whether Trump's claims will influence US-South Africa relations or his attendance at the G20 summit in Johannesburg later this year.
Yahoo
22-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
World leaders have a huge new problem: Trump's Oval Office smackdowns
It's the new Hunger Games of world politics — the televised Oval Office take-down by President Donald Trump. South African President Cyril Ramaphosa was the latest leader to become a MAGA prop Wednesday, as Trump lectured him on false claims that White South African farmers are the victims of a genocide. Foreign leaders now enter the hallowed lair of the US president — who runs press conferences like they're WWE cage matches — at their peril. Trump's dressings-down are a metaphor for a US foreign policy that is erratic, politicized and awash in conspiracy theories. As Ukraine and Jordan also found out, the more vulnerable a country, the more hostile a reception they tend to get. Giving the growing political risks of appearing in the Oval Office, it would not be surprising if some leaders reconsider what was once a coveted invitation but is now a political trap. This could have diplomatic consequences, with Global South nations like South Africa now looking more to China than the US. Ramaphosa knew what was coming. He was joined by his White agriculture minister in the new multiracial coalition government. Trump's friends the South African major champion golfers Ernie Els and Retief Goosen were also drafted in. But that didn't stop Trump dimming the lights and rolling out a multimedia show of right-wing propaganda about South Africa. 'Death, death, death,' he said, as he displayed articles about the killings of White Afrikaners. The question of more equitable land ownership is one of the most complex legacies of South Africa's years of minority rule. But as Ramaphosa explained, there's no systematic attempt to wipe out a community based on race or ethnicity — the definition of genocide. And most victims of violent crime are Black. Every Oval Office meeting now takes place in the haunting shadow of the brutal inquisition of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky by Trump and Vice President JD Vance in February. Ramaphosa seemed to have learned from that shocker. While rattled, he reacted with bemusement rather than outright anger to the president's ambush. He patiently tried to explain the facts to Trump — not that it made any difference. 'They're being executed, and they happen to be White, and most of them happen to be farmers,' Trump said. 'I don't know how you explain that.' With most presidents, Oval Office photo-ops are dull affairs. Press poolers are rushed in to hear each leader mouth platitudes about the strong relationship between the two countries. Sometimes reporters get to throw in a few questions before they are herded out to await a formal press conference later in the day. This has changed in Trump's second term, which has shattered even those barriers of decorum that the president left in place in his first go around. The Oval Office is now more crowded and rowdier. Vance often sits on the White House sofa alongside Cabinet members waiting to pounce. This is an unusual role for the veep. During the Obama administration, then-Vice President Joe Biden often shunned the spotlight at the back of the room. Trump's visitors must run the gauntlet of the MAGA media pack looking, like the president, for viral moments. During Zelensky's visit, one such reporter asked the president, who wears a military-style field jacket to honor frontline troops, why he wasn't wearing a suit to show respect. Many deep problems remain in South Africa since the end of apartheid and years of corrupt and chaotic leadership by the African National Congress after President Nelson Mandela stepped down. It's safe to say none of those issues were helped at all by Trump's antics. But that was clearly not the point. The president's Oval Office shows are about signaling to the MAGA base — apparently, in this case, its White nationalist elements. Trump's brand is based on being an outsider and a disrupter. He returned to office determined to tear down global political and trading systems that boosted US power but that he says are ripping Americans off. What better way can there be to demonstrate 'America first' strongman credentials than berating foreigners on TV? Sometimes, the spectacle seems to be for the benefit of one man — Elon Musk. The South African-born mogul was in the room with Ramaphosa on Wednesday after complaining on X about discrimination against Whites in South Africa. Musk's views also got an airing during a visit to the Oval Office by British Prime Minister Keir Starmer, when Vance complained about what he said were free speech crackdowns in the UK on American-owned tech firms. Starmer, schooled by his weekly appearances at Prime Minister's Questions in the House of Commons, made short work of the complaint. 'We've had free speech for a very, very long time in the United Kingdom and it will last for a very, very long time.' Trump's ritual humiliation of his visitors means world leaders now have a complex new dimension to their prep work. They must consider how they will come across to their electorates back home. If they fail to stand up to Trump, they will look weak. If they push back hard, they might get a domestic boost — like Zelensky — but could damage their national interests if they leave Trump nursing a grudge. And leaders must try to avoid being trapped on camera while Trump says or does something that underscores their relative weakness compared to the United States. In February, for example, King Abdullah of Jordan looked deeply uncomfortable as Trump pressed him to accept refugees from Gaza. Such an influx could topple Jordan's fragile political balance and the monarchy itself. Yet Abdullah also knew his country depends on US aid for security, so he couldn't rebut his host. Zelensky was another supplicant. After he was kicked out of the White House for reacting angrily to Vance's demands for gratitude, he spent weeks making amends. The most successful Oval Office visitors are those who dole out praise for Trump without debasing themselves too much. With a theatrical flourish, Starmer pulled out a letter from King Charles III inviting Trump for a state visit, and waxed on about how this was a great honor since Trump had already had a similar invite from the late Queen Elizabeth II. Starmer is not known as a natural politician, and he got top marks at home for his unusually deft performance. French President Emmanuel Macron created the second-term playbook for correcting Trump's wild falsehoods when he laid his hand on the US president's wrist when he falsely claimed Europe would get back aid it has poured into Ukraine. 'No, to be frank, we paid. We paid 60% of the total effort,' Macron said. Macron seemed to be relishing the high-wire political act of the Oval Office showdown. But he was careful to leaven his own statements with a large helping of 'Dear Donalds.' Another leader vying to be the bridge between Europe and Trump is Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni. As a right-wing populist who often visits Mar-a-Lago, Meloni had the advantage of being among friends. But as a strong supporter of Ukraine, she was on sensitive ground that she smoothed with slick political skills. At one point, Meloni interrupted her own interpreter and assumed translation duties herself to make sure Trump fully understood a point about Italy increasing defense spending. And she curried favor by adopting the Trumpian vernacular, telling the president that they could 'make the West great again.' No foreign leader faced as much domestic pressure in the Oval Office as Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney. After all, he had just won an election that was dominated by hostility over Trump's demands to annex Canada by wrapping himself in the maple leaf flag. Carney tried talking to Trump in terms the real estate-magnate-turned-president would understand. 'There are some places that are never for sale,' he said. 'Having met with the owners of Canada over the course of the campaign … it's not for sale, won't be for sale ever.' When Trump said, 'Never say never.' Carney turned to the cameras and the True North and mouthed, 'Never, never.' Trump, however, had the host's prerogative of the last word — another hazard for world leaders visiting the Oval Office. He went on a tirade about how unfair it was that the US bears much of the cost for defending Canada militarily, then told the press to leave. Carney couldn't get a word in edgewise. Leaders never know quite what might happen with Trump. Which brings us to Pope Leo XIV. Vance was at the Vatican last weekend for the pontiff's inaugural mass and handed over an impressive white envelope bearing the presidential seal that contained an invitation for a visit to the White House. Leo was heard to say 'at some point' — perhaps referring to his intention to take up the offer. But the former Robert Prevost of Chicago didn't seem to be in a rush. Maybe that's because it's almost inconceivable to envision the man viewed by Roman Catholics as God's representative on Earth willingly submitting to the Oval Office bear pit and Trump's somewhat secular rhetoric. Any visit is likely to follow intense negotiations with the Vatican about protocol. But the spectacle of the two most famous Americans on the planet in the storied office would be something to behold.
CNN
22-05-2025
- Politics
- CNN
World leaders have a huge new problem: Trump's Oval Office smackdowns
CNN — It's the new Hunger Games of world politics — the televised Oval Office take-down by President Donald Trump. South African President Cyril Ramaphosa was the latest leader to become a MAGA prop Wednesday, as Trump lectured him on false claims that White South African farmers are the victims of a genocide. Foreign leaders now enter the hallowed lair of the US president — who runs press conferences like they're WWE cage matches — at their peril. Trump's dressings-down are a metaphor for a US foreign policy that is erratic, politicized and awash in conspiracy theories. As Ukraine and Jordan also found out, the more vulnerable a country, the more hostile a reception they tend to get. Giving the growing political risks of appearing in the Oval Office, it would not be surprising if some leaders reconsider what was once a coveted invitation but is now a political trap. This could have diplomatic consequences, with Global South nations like South Africa now looking more to China than the US. Ramaphosa knew what was coming. He was joined by his White agriculture minister in the new multiracial coalition government. Trump's friends the South African major champion golfers Ernie Els and Retief Goosen were also drafted in. But that didn't stop Trump dimming the lights and rolling out a multimedia show of right-wing propaganda about South Africa. 'Death, death, death,' he said, as he displayed articles about the killings of White Afrikaners. The question of more equitable land ownership is one of the most complex legacies of South Africa's years of minority rule. But as Ramaphosa explained, there's no systematic attempt to wipe out a community based on race or ethnicity — the definition of genocide. And most victims of violent crime are Black. Zelensky overshadows every meeting Every Oval Office meeting now takes place in the haunting shadow of the brutal inquisition of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky by Trump and Vice President JD Vance in February. Ramaphosa seemed to have learned from that shocker. While rattled, he reacted with bemusement rather than outright anger to the president's ambush. He patiently tried to explain the facts to Trump — not that it made any difference. 'They're being executed, and they happen to be White, and most of them happen to be farmers,' Trump said. 'I don't know how you explain that.' With most presidents, Oval Office photo-ops are dull affairs. Press poolers are rushed in to hear each leader mouth platitudes about the strong relationship between the two countries. Sometimes reporters get to throw in a few questions before they are herded out to await a formal press conference later in the day. This has changed in Trump's second term, which has shattered even those barriers of decorum that the president left in place in his first go around. The Oval Office is now more crowded and rowdier. Vance often sits on the White House sofa alongside Cabinet members waiting to pounce. This is an unusual role for the veep. During the Obama administration, then-Vice President Joe Biden often shunned the spotlight at the back of the room. Trump's visitors must run the gauntlet of the MAGA media pack looking, like the president, for viral moments. During Zelensky's visit, one such reporter asked the president, who wears a military-style field jacket to honor frontline troops, why he wasn't wearing a suit to show respect. Many deep problems remain in South Africa since the end of apartheid and years of corrupt and chaotic leadership by the African National Congress after President Nelson Mandela stepped down. It's safe to say none of those issues were helped at all by Trump's antics. But that was clearly not the point. The president's Oval Office shows are about signaling to the MAGA base — apparently, in this case, its White nationalist elements. Trump's brand is based on being an outsider and a disrupter. He returned to office determined to tear down global political and trading systems that boosted US power but that he says are ripping Americans off. What better way can there be to demonstrate 'America first' strongman credentials than berating foreigners on TV? Elon Musk looks on as President Donald Trump meets South African President Cyril Ramaphosa in the Oval Office of the White House on May 21 in Washington, DC. Sometimes, the spectacle seems to be for the benefit of one man — Elon Musk. The South African-born mogul was in the room with Ramaphosa on Wednesday after complaining on X about discrimination against Whites in South Africa. Musk's views also got an airing during a visit to the Oval Office by British Prime Minister Keir Starmer, when Vance complained about what he said were free speech crackdowns in the UK on American-owned tech firms. Starmer, schooled by his weekly appearances at Prime Minister's Questions in the House of Commons, made short work of the complaint. 'We've had free speech for a very, very long time in the United Kingdom and it will last for a very, very long time.' Which leader best handled Trump in the Oval Office? Trump's ritual humiliation of his visitors means world leaders now have a complex new dimension to their prep work. They must consider how they will come across to their electorates back home. If they fail to stand up to Trump, they will look weak. If they push back hard, they might get a domestic boost — like Zelensky — but could damage their national interests if they leave Trump nursing a grudge. And leaders must try to avoid being trapped on camera while Trump says or does something that underscores their relative weakness compared to the United States. In February, for example, King Abdullah of Jordan looked deeply uncomfortable as Trump pressed him to accept refugees from Gaza. Such an influx could topple Jordan's fragile political balance and the monarchy itself. Yet Abdullah also knew his country depends on US aid for security, so he couldn't rebut his host. 02:09 Zelensky was another supplicant. After he was kicked out of the White House for reacting angrily to Vance's demands for gratitude, he spent weeks making amends. The most successful Oval Office visitors are those who dole out praise for Trump without debasing themselves too much. With a theatrical flourish, Starmer pulled out a letter from King Charles III inviting Trump for a state visit, and waxed on about how this was a great honor since Trump had already had a similar invite from the late Queen Elizabeth II. Starmer is not known as a natural politician, and he got top marks at home for his unusually deft performance. French President Emmanuel Macron created the second-term playbook for correcting Trump's wild falsehoods when he laid his hand on the US president's wrist when he falsely claimed Europe would get back aid it has poured into Ukraine. 'No, to be frank, we paid. We paid 60% of the total effort,' Macron said. Macron seemed to be relishing the high-wire political act of the Oval Office showdown. But he was careful to leaven his own statements with a large helping of 'Dear Donalds.' Another leader vying to be the bridge between Europe and Trump is Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni. As a right-wing populist who often visits Mar-a-Lago, Meloni had the advantage of being among friends. But as a strong supporter of Ukraine, she was on sensitive ground that she smoothed with slick political skills. At one point, Meloni interrupted her own interpreter and assumed translation duties herself to make sure Trump fully understood a point about Italy increasing defense spending. And she curried favor by adopting the Trumpian vernacular, telling the president that they could 'make the West great again.' No foreign leader faced as much domestic pressure in the Oval Office as Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney. After all, he had just won an election that was dominated by hostility over Trump's demands to annex Canada by wrapping himself in the maple leaf flag. Carney tried talking to Trump in terms the real estate-magnate-turned-president would understand. 'There are some places that are never for sale,' he said. 'Having met with the owners of Canada over the course of the campaign … it's not for sale, won't be for sale ever.' When Trump said, 'Never say never.' Carney turned to the cameras and the True North and mouthed, 'Never, never.' Trump, however, had the host's prerogative of the last word — another hazard for world leaders visiting the Oval Office. He went on a tirade about how unfair it was that the US bears much of the cost for defending Canada militarily, then told the press to leave. Carney couldn't get a word in edgewise. The visit everyone wants to see In this photo from the Vatican Media, Pope Leo XIV, right, meets with US Secretary of State Marco Rubio and US Vice President JD Vance on May 19 at the Vatican. Leaders never know quite what might happen with Trump. Which brings us to Pope Leo XIV. Vance was at the Vatican last weekend for the pontiff's inaugural mass and handed over an impressive white envelope bearing the presidential seal that contained an invitation for a visit to the White House. Leo was heard to say 'at some point' — perhaps referring to his intention to take up the offer. But the former Robert Prevost of Chicago didn't seem to be in a rush. Maybe that's because it's almost inconceivable to envision the man viewed by Roman Catholics as God's representative on Earth willingly submitting to the Oval Office bear pit and Trump's somewhat secular rhetoric. Any visit is likely to follow intense negotiations with the Vatican about protocol.
