The recent eruption of violence in KwaZulu-Natal and Gauteng, sparked by a swirl of misinformation over a Constitutional Court ruling on asylum seekers, has thrust South Africa into a fraught national conversation about the boundaries of free expression. Streets that should have been filled with the hum of daily commerce instead saw the crack of burning tires and the chaos of looting, all because a carefully crafted falsehood—twisted and amplified through social media—transformed a legal decision into a provocation. The ruling, which pertained to the rights of asylum seekers to access certain services, was distorted by demagogues into a narrative of encroachment and betrayal, igniting xenophobic fury. In the aftermath, as the smoke cleared, a deeper question began to gnaw at the public conscience: how do we reconcile our cherished Constitutional right to speak freely with the undeniable, devastating harm that reckless speech can inflict? This is not an abstract legal puzzle; it is a moral one, sitting at the very heart of what makes a society cohesive. The link between a tweet and a burning shop may seem indirect, but to many observers, it is painfully direct—a trail of anger, fear, and incitement that ends in shattered livelihoods and fractured communities. We are forced to confront the uncomfortable truth that words, in the digital age, are not just words; they are actions with consequences.
CapeTalk’s John Maytham, in a conversation with Nicole Fritz, Executive Director of the Campaign for Free Expression, articulated this very moral connection with stark clarity. For Maytham, there is an absolute link between the violence on the streets and the misinformation posted online; the tweets were not background noise, but the kindling. Fritz, a staunch defender of free speech, sought to ground the discussion in the precise language of our Constitution, reminding us that while freedom of expression is a foundational democratic right—one that safeguards our democracy—it is not absolute. She pointed to Article 16, which explicitly carves out exceptions: propaganda for war, incitement to imminent violence, and the propagation of hatred based on particular listed grounds that constitute incitement to harm. This is not a loophole or a restriction imposed from outside; it is a boundary drawn by the very document that grants the freedom. Fritz emphasized that we often forget this nuance, preferring to shout “free speech” as a shield against any criticism. But the framers of our Constitution understood that a democracy cannot survive if its own citizens are permitted to use words as weapons to call for or incite violence against one another. The law, in this sense, is not the enemy of expression but its guardian—ensuring that the marketplace of ideas remains a space for robust debate, not a battlefield for destruction.
When Fritz turned her attention to the specific cases that have surfaced over the last few days, her tone grew more serious. She acknowledged that in several instances, we are arguably not just dealing with offensive or distasteful rhetoric, but with incitement to imminent violence—language that actively encourages people to take to the streets and harm others. We are also witnessing the propagation of hatred, not in a vague philosophical sense, but with the clear intention to incite harm against a defined group, in this case, asylum seekers and, by extension, foreigners more broadly. Fritz was careful to distinguish between legitimate, even harsh, criticism and this kind of dangerous demagoguery. “Debate immigration policy all you like,” she insisted, “criticize judges if you disagree with their rulings.” That is the lifeblood of a constitutional democracy. But when public figures, with large followings, use their platforms to spread falsehoods designed to inflame and provoke, they cross a line that cannot be tolerated. The degradation of our constitutional democracy, she warned, is not something that happens in a single dramatic moment; it happens gradually, through the constant assault of incitement disguised as opinion. The question then becomes not about the right to speak, but about the responsibility that accompanies that right—and whether the institutions meant to uphold that responsibility are doing their job.
Maytham, pressing for practical solutions, asked what can actually be done about this rising tide of incitement. Fritz’s response was blunt: the criminal justice system is failing. It is battling to respond to even ordinary types of crimes, let alone the complex, cross-platform, often anonymous nature of digital incitement. We should be seeing prosecutions and sanctions against those who incite violence, but instead, we see silence, inaction, and a sense of impunity taking root. She pointed to one small but significant step: the Electoral Commission has published a new code of conduct specifically designed to counter disinformation ahead of the upcoming local government elections. It is an acknowledgment that misinformation is not just a nuisance but a direct threat to electoral integrity. In a notable development, Home Affairs has referred the disinformation surrounding the Scalabrini judgment—the very ruling at the center of the riots—to the electoral court. This is a test case, Fritz said, of whether this new code can be wielded effectively. One has to hope, she added, that real action will be taken against those who engage in these campaigns of disinformation. But hope is not a strategy, and the machinery of justice must be oiled by political will and resourced with the technological expertise needed to track and hold perpetrators accountable.
The conversation then turned to the broader digital landscape, where Fritz expressed deep worry about the upsurge in digital technology-related crime. From cyber-crimes to coordinated disinformation campaigns, the very tools that connect us are being weaponized to destabilize us. She was unequivocal: until we have an effective regulatory framework that addresses the digital platforms themselves—the content they serve, the algorithms that amplify outrage, and the business models that profit from division—we will remain at risk of this type of destabilization. It is not enough to chase after individual actors; we must address the ecosystem that allows them to thrive. Fritz argued that this is not a pipe dream or an infringement on free speech; it is a necessary measure for the health of our democracy. When vigilantism and disinformation are allowed to run wild and unchecked, the consequences are real and severe. We have seen the results in the burning streets, in the fear of foreign nationals, in the strain on social cohesion. A multi-sector approach is required, she insisted, one that brings together government, civil society, tech companies, and ordinary citizens to create a shared defense against this new form of warfare. We cannot afford to treat this as a side issue or a niche concern.
Fritz’s message, however, was not one of despair but of urgent warning. She emphasized, with palpable intensity, that we are facing a perilous moment, and that the response so far has been inadequate. Too often, she observed, a government that is scared of alienating potential supporters is not coming out hard enough against those who incite violence. This political timidity is itself a form of complicity. We need to see leadership that is willing to condemn disinformation without equivocation, to prosecute with vigor, and to stand firm on the principles of our Constitution. The path forward is not to restrict speech, but to enforce the boundaries that the Constitution itself has set. It is to invest in our institutions, to demand accountability from our leaders, and to recognize that the freedom to speak is a gift that must be protected from those who would abuse it. As the interview drew to a close, one could feel the weight of the moment. The riots in KZN and Gauteng are not an isolated event; they are a symptom of a deeper rot. But they are also a wake-up call, a chance to confront the dark side of our digital age and to choose whether we will be governed by the rule of law or by the whims of the loudest and most dangerous voices among us. The choice, Fritz made clear, is ours to make, and we are running out of time.