The Brigitte Mabandla Justice College in Pretoria was abuzz on September 17, 2025, as Lieutenant General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi, KwaZulu-Natal’s police commissioner, took the stand at the highly anticipated Madlanga Commission. This judicial commission of inquiry, established by President Cyril Ramaphosa, is tasked with investigating explosive allegations that criminal syndicates have infiltrated South Africa’s police, prosecutors, and even the judiciary. It’s a moment that could mark a turning point for the country’s battered criminal justice system—a system many fear is teetering on the brink of collapse.
Few nations have endured the level of public mistrust in law enforcement that South Africa faces today. According to Independent Newspapers, allegations of corruption and political interference have dogged the South African Police Service (SAPS) for years. Yet, it’s rare—almost unheard of—for a high-ranking police official to publicly accuse fellow officers and politicians of colluding with criminal networks. That’s exactly what Mkhwanazi did at a July 2025 news conference, setting off a firestorm that led to both a parliamentary probe and, ultimately, the creation of the Madlanga Commission.
"It has been my aim that I want to demonstrate that the criminal justice system has been subject to a continuous threat, as well as sabotage, which has been with us over an extended period," Mkhwanazi declared during his opening statement, as reported by the Associated Press. "To a point where we believe it is at real risk of total collapse if nothing is done." The gravity of these words was not lost on those present. The commission, chaired by Acting Deputy Chief Justice Mbuyiseli Madlanga, now faces the daunting task of untangling a web of alleged corruption, political manipulation, and criminal collusion that stretches into the highest echelons of South African power.
At the heart of the inquiry are Mkhwanazi’s claims that some top politicians and police officials have actively interfered in sensitive investigations to shield criminal syndicates and drug cartels. On January 2, 2025, Mkhwanazi received a WhatsApp message containing a signed letter from Police Minister Senzo Mchunu, dated December 31, 2024. The letter, he testified, announced the disbanding of the SAPS political killings task team in KwaZulu-Natal—a move that, by law, should not have been within the minister’s operational purview. "Someone influenced the minister to do this," Mkhwanazi told the commission, as reported by Sunday World. He added that the minister’s decision was not coordinated with the national police commissioner, Gen Fannie Masemola, who confirmed he had not been consulted.
But why target the political killings task team? Mkhwanazi alleges that the unit’s success in probing high-profile cases—including a raid on the home of controversial Gauteng tenderpreneur Vusimuzi "Cat" Matlala in December 2024—provoked powerful interests. According to Mkhwanazi, WhatsApp communications and proofs of payment link Matlala to funding African National Congress (ANC) political activities and to efforts by associates of Mchunu to suppress police investigations. "The communication in the syndicates involving associates of the minister seems to suggest the minister is involved in decisions the syndicate is taking," Mkhwanazi asserted. He believes the task team’s dismantling was meant to halt its progress, especially as it made inroads into Gauteng’s tangled web of criminality.
The allegations don’t stop there. Mkhwanazi described a syndicate comprising senior politicians—members of parliament, law enforcement officers, prosecutors, magistrates, and judges—who, he claims, are controlled by drug cartels and businesspeople in Gauteng. The implications are staggering: if true, these networks could undermine the very institutions meant to uphold justice and the rule of law.
President Ramaphosa’s response was swift. On July 13, 2025, he announced the formation of the Madlanga Commission to investigate the claims. Both Minister Mchunu and Deputy National Police Commissioner Lt-Gen Shadrack Sibiya—alleged by Mkhwanazi to have been involved in the decision to disband the task team—were placed on special leave. As the commission began its work, South Africa’s parliament launched a separate investigation into the allegations, underscoring the seriousness with which the claims are being treated at the highest levels of government.
Yet, as Independent Newspapers analyst Dr. Reneva Fourie points out, South Africans have seen commissions come and go with little to show for them. "Dockets gather dust, prosecutions stall, and trust in the justice system erodes further," Fourie wrote. The public’s skepticism is understandable. In a country where assassinations of whistleblowers are not uncommon, the safety of witnesses is a paramount concern. Justice Madlanga himself acknowledged the challenge, emphasizing the need for robust witness protection and transparent proceedings to ensure the truth can emerge unimpeded by fear or political interference.
The stakes could hardly be higher. South Africa has one of the highest crime rates in the world, and the systemic rot described by Mkhwanazi—assassinations, corruption, manipulation of investigations, and blurred boundaries between politics and justice—has left many citizens feeling abandoned by the state. The commission’s mandate is not just to identify wrongdoers but to expose the conditions that allowed such corruption to flourish and to recommend ways to restore public trust in law enforcement.
Still, the commission’s power is limited. As Fourie notes, it can only investigate and advise; it cannot prosecute. The responsibility for criminal prosecutions will fall to the National Prosecuting Authority and the police—institutions that themselves stand accused of complicity. The public’s faith in these bodies will hinge on their willingness to act on the commission’s findings, no matter how high the implicated officials may rank.
Despite the bleak picture, there are glimmers of hope. Tens of thousands of police officers continue to serve honorably, often at great personal risk and with little recognition. Their commitment is a reminder that the system, though battered, is not beyond saving. The Madlanga Commission, then, is more than a reckoning—it is a test of South Africa’s democratic resilience and its ability to hold even the most powerful to account.
As the commission’s proceedings resume, the nation waits. For many, this inquiry represents the last, best hope for restoring the rule of law and rebuilding faith in the institutions meant to protect them. The outcome will not only shape the future of policing and justice in South Africa but also determine whether democracy itself can weather this storm and emerge stronger on the other side.
