In mid‑November 2025, a chartered aircraft carrying more than 150 Palestinians from Gaza landed unexpectedly at Johannesburg’s O.R. Tambo International Airport. The event has provoked shock and confusion across South Africa: most of the passengers arrived without valid Israeli exit stamps, and spent nearly 12 hours on the tarmac before a portion were allowed to disembark under 90-day visa exemptions. The rest reportedly departed for other destinations only later (Africanews, 2025). President Cyril Ramaphosa has since confirmed an inquiry, admitting he “heard about it from my Minister of Home Affairs,” but insisting South Africa extended entry “out of compassion” (Africanews, 2025). Compassion or a covert compromise? The details remain painfully opaque.
Ramaphosa has since confirmed an inquiry, admitting he “heard about it from my Minister of Home Affairs
At first glance, this could be read as a noble act of solidarity. South Africa has long portrayed itself as a champion of anti-colonial and liberation struggles. The African National Congress (ANC) frequently positions its history in solidarity with Palestinian struggles, and many expected a coordinated diplomatic effort rather than a publicly clumsy admission. Instead, what unfolded feels more like a backroom arrangement, or worse, a dangerous diplomatic concession.
One theory now doing rounds, not entirely without meri, is that this was not purely humanitarian. Could this have been orchestrated as part of a geopolitical scheme, involving Israel and potentially the United States? Some commentators now ask: did President Ramaphosa provide a path to residency for these Palestinians in return for political or economic favors? There is speculation, for instance, that this may have been linked to Trump-aligned actors pushing for forced migration, displacing Palestinians from Gaza and
this may have been linked to Trump-aligned actors pushing for forced migration
Israel’s role is especially disconcerting. According to statements from COGAT, Israel’s defense body responsible for coordinating civilian affairs in Gaza, permission was granted for departure after approval from an unnamed “third country” (The National News, 2025). Critics now suggest this could fit a pattern: forced exile under the guise of humanitarian evacuation, weak documentation and no exit stamps, then relocation to a friendly state. This would allow Israel to reduce Gaza’s population while maintaining territorial and ideological control, all while marking the displacement as voluntary or logistical aid.
If true, what we witnessed in South Africa could be part of a broader strategy, a “settlement without guns,” in which Palestinians are dispersed elsewhere even as their ancestral lands in Gaza remain under tightening control. This would align disturbingly with some right-wing Zionist thinking, and might also align politically with Trump-aligned interests keen on destabilizing Gaza as a base of resistance. The optics are chilling: Palestinians forced into a “forced migration” scheme, with South Africa becoming ground zero for what some might call an ideological relocation.
And here lies the heart of the danger: the ANC, once the symbol of global justice and liberation, risks tainting its legacy. By apparently collaborating, knowingly or unknowingly, in what could be framed as a Zionist-engineered population transfer, the ANC could undermine its moral high ground. Its historical identity as an anti-imperialist, liberatory force is at stake, replaced perhaps by diplomatic pragmatism bought at a very high price. If this was indeed any form of forced relocation, it borders on complicity in a form of ethnic engineering, wrapped in the rhetoric of humanitarianism.
Compounding this risk is the secrecy that shrouded the operation. If Ramaphosa was not fully in control, if he truly did “hear about it late” , then how deeply embedded was the government in planning? Why was there no transparent discussion with Parliament, no public communication explaining who financed the flight, who approved the visas, and whether the Palestinian arrivals will receive permanent or temporary protection? Would not such a politically sensitive act merit
Would not such a politically sensitive act merit robust parliamentary oversight
Let us not underestimate the international implications. If Israel and its allies are using “humanitarian corridors” as a cover to relocate Palestinians in ways that weaken resistance and reshape the demographic map, this should ring alarm bells at the United Nations, in civil society, and in South Africa’s domestic politics. Moreover, if there was U.S. involvement, whether by Trump sympathizers, lobbyists, or official channels, it raises profound questions about sovereignty and the external pressure faced by the Ramaphosa government.
Yet, even as we grapple with these geopolitical anxieties, there is a humanitarian dimension that cannot be ignored. These individuals fled a war-torn Gaza. If they did so with intent to resettle, seeking safety in a sympathetic nation, that raises a moral imperative for South Africa , a country whose history is deeply tied to the displacement and refuge of politically persecuted people. But solidarity does not mean silence. True solidarity demands accountability. South Africa must clarify whether this was a purely humanitarian admission, or part of a more calculated diplomatic deal.
At this moment, the ANC faces a critical inflection point. It must prove that its historical commitment to anti-colonial struggle remains vibrant, not compromised by opaque geopolitical bargaining. If the government hopes to maintain legitimacy, it must open its books: Who financed the flight? What legal status will these Palestinians hold? Were they vetted? And, crucially, will they stay, or be expected to move on again?
For a nation that once stood against apartheid and championed liberation movements around the world, this event could be a defining litmus test. Will the ANC stand firmly with the oppressed, or will its solidarity be reinterpreted as transactional? If this was indeed a backroom deal involving forced migration and geopolitical maneuvering, South Africa’s moral clarity risks being lost in a veil of diplomatic ambiguity. Conversely, if it was genuine humanitarian rescue, that must be confirmed, not hidden.
In the end, this isn’t just about one plane, or one group of people. It’s about what South Africa stands for in the world, about whether its liberation legacy is preserved or quietly compromised. The government owes the public, and the world, a full accounting. Because in the business of human lives, opacity is not an option.
