For more than two decades, South African business leaders have been expected to help address the country’s mounting challenges, from fiscal decline and deindustrialisation to the need for social upliftment and public safety. Yet there is a peculiar expectation that, in doing so, they should exercise restraint in critiquing the political decisions that compound these problems. Their money, expertise, and time are greedily accepted, but their opinions are summarily dismissed when they dare challenge those in power publicly.

The presidency’s recent rebuke of Neal Froneman, the former CEO of mining giant Sibanye-Stillwater, for urging Washington to spare South African business and instead target policymakers with punitive measures, brings this tension into sharp focus.

More significantly, it is raising a fundamental question: at what point does loyalty to a country become conditional on deference to those who govern it?

This latest controversy in which Froneman finds himself embroiled stems from an interview about his efforts to bring a Formula One race back to South Africa. In it, he argued that South Africa’s strained relations with Washington, particularly over its ties to Iran and Russia, could jeopardise efforts to secure the race, whose commercial owner, Liberty Media, is American.

In explaining his engagements in Washington, Froneman urged that South African businesses should not be punished for the policies of their government. Rather, any punitive measures should target the individuals responsible for those policies.

Contradiction

Critics have highlighted the apparent contradiction between Froneman’s remarks and the government backing required for his Formula One project. Yet seeking that support does not require political deference, nor does the prospect of private profit negate a venture’s potential national benefits. The project should be judged on its merits, not on its promoter’s willingness to refrain from criticising government.

In typical fashion, the presidency has lashed out, characterising this approach as “unpatriotic and destructive” and is suggesting that Froneman withdraw from a government-business partnership, of which he is a key member.

Froneman has helped lead the partnership’s crime and corruption workstream in addition to chairing Business Against Crime South Africa, a substantial commitment of time for which he receives no remuneration. The wider collaboration has delivered tangible results, including a banking-sector-backed forensic centre for the Hawks, and support for reforms that contributed to South Africa’s removal from the Financial Action Task Force’s grey list.

Of course, these are collective achievements, not Froneman’s alone. Nevertheless, his willingness to help lead this work makes the charge of disloyalty completely absurd.

Froneman’s proposed sanctions remedy does warrant some scrutiny: who would be targeted, on what evidence, for which decisions, and with what safeguards?

Confuses the Interests

But the presidency’s accusation of disloyalty confuses the interests of South Africa with those of its political leadership, as though the two were necessarily inseparable. They are not.

To my mind, Froneman ranks among the most patriotic business people South Africa has ever produced. His patriotism is not the ceremonial variety; it has been reflected for decades in his willingness to commit his energies to “proudly South African first” commercial endeavours and confront the challenges he believes prevent the country from realising that potential.

His career has been grounded in an industry whose fortunes remain intimately connected with South Africa’s economic prospects. Having led Sibanye-Stillwater from its establishment as a domestic gold producer into an international mining business, he understands the relationship between investment, operational viability, and employment. His concerns about the consequences of government policy should therefore be engaged on their merits, rather than dismissed as the unwelcome intrusion of a businessman into diplomatic affairs.

Froneman has never been particularly good at knowing his place, nor at keeping quiet when he believes government, unions, or fellow business leaders are damaging the country of his birth and the prospects of its people.

South Africa should be grateful for that.

Jade Davenport is a historian and writer whose work explores mining, history, business, and society. She is the author of Digging Deep: A History of Mining in South Africa, now in its second edition. She lives between London and Johannesburg.