The War on South Africa’s Food Producers

The White Cross Monument

Situated on private farmland near Ysterberg in Limpopo, South Africa, stands a haunting and powerful sight: the White Cross Monument, also known as the Witkruis Monument or Plaasmoord Monument. It began on June 16, 2004, with the planting of just a few white crosses. Today, it is no longer a single memorial, but a hillside covered with thousands of them.

Each white cross represents a farmer who has been murdered. Their names, sometimes accompanied by their ages, are written in remembrance of these fallen heroes. The ground is sacred to the families who have lost everything, and sacred to the farmers who live to tell the tale.

The monument was initiated by community members who felt the national government was ignoring the crisis, a cry for help, perhaps. Over the years, it has grown organically. Families travel far and wide annually to plant the cross of their loved ones on this hill. There is no central government record of farm murders, so for many, this is the only place where their loved one’s death is publicly remembered. Not all victims have received a white cross yet.

A walk through the field is heartbreaking and hair-raising. There are crosses for toddlers who died alongside their parents, elderly farmers tortured with boiling water, and families shot execution-style. The monument reveals what statistics cannot: the human cost of lawlessness and a nation’s broken promise to protect its most vulnerable citizens. It is the result of one excuse after another.

The Politics of Bloodshed

Farm murders in South Africa are deeply political. They are not random acts of violence, but the consequence of years of inflammatory rhetoric, political posturing, and dangerous promises, often fueled by leaders like Julius Malema, who openly chant slogans like “Kill the Boer,” and the inaction of the government.

When President Ramaphosa defended the chant at the United Nations, insisting it was part of "struggle history" and not incitement, it sparked outrage among farm communities and international observers, because their "struggle song" is costing the lives of innocent, honest people. People who farm to feed a nation.

In May 2025, U.S. President Donald Trump reignited the issue in a meeting with President Ramaphosa, showing footage of targeted white genocide. Ramaphosa and Steenhuizen denied these claims, assuring that "farm murders are not happening."

In the week following President Ramaphosa’s visit to the White House, brutal violence swept through South Africa’s rural heartland in the North West. An elderly farmer and his wife were murdered, and a woman and her two daughters were attacked. My friends arrived at the scene hours before the police, who didn’t show up until eight hours later. Just days after, another farmer’s home was burned to the ground. When they returned two days later, not a single fingerprint had been collected.

The Numbers

The South African government does not maintain an official or centralized database recording farm murders. These incidents are only documented by independent organizations and community groups. Among them is AfriForum, a South African civil rights organization representing Afrikaner interests, which campaigns vigorously against farm attacks and maintains a public database to track these incidents. Afriforum has reported that almost one farm murder occurs per week.

In South Africa, certain crimes prompt immediate state action. Others, disturbingly, do not. For instance, in 2023, 41 people were officially recorded as murdered in connection with illegal mining, data acknowledged by the state and prompting targeted interventions. That same year, AfriForum documented 49 farm murders. Unlike the mining-related killings, these were not recorded by the government in any official capacity, nor did they trigger a comparable law enforcement response.

Looking at broader incidents: 234 cash-in-transit robberies triggered focused and coordinated responses from law enforcement. In contrast, 296 farm attacks were reported, yet received little to no serious intervention.

Beyond the Numbers

Numbers alone can never capture the emotional and psychological toll these attacks inflict on farming families. Many invest a large portion of their life savings in electric fencing, panic buttons, guard dogs, and CCTV cameras to protect their homes. Yet, despite these precautions, countless farmers still sleep with guns under their pillows because it’s often not enough. Attackers frequently have inside information from farmworkers or spend weeks stalking their victims, learning who comes and goes before striking.

The trauma lingers long after the attacks. Survivors often suffer from lasting symptoms of PTSD. Children grow up with the constant knowledge that violence can strike at any moment. The fear goes beyond robbery - it is the terror of being brutalized, mutilated, and murdered, with no guarantee that justice will ever be served.

I’ve reported from war zones and blurred out gore in battlefield photos to share with the world. But very few compare to the brutality of the scars I've seen and the stories I’ve heard from families of farm murder victims in South Africa. These horrors rarely make headlines.

While some argue that farm murders are not racially motivated, data from Afriforum’s reports or the Rome Research Institute of South Africa tell a different story. Given the minority status of white farmers in South Africa, they account for a disproportionately high number of victims, making them one of the most at-risk populations per capita.

What Is Being Done?

The government has introduced Rural Safety Strategies aimed at improving coordination between the South African Police Service (SAPS) and farming communities. However, these initiatives are chronically underfunded. SAPS stations in rural towns are often under-resourced, leading to slow response times and limited investigative capacity. Criminals openly admit they have little fear of the police, who themselves have frequently been victims of robbery.

After 2003, the South African government disbanded the Commando System, a network of locally organized rural self-defense units that had been active since the apartheid era. Originally intended to assist the police in protecting farms and rural communities, the system was criticized for its controversial role in enforcing apartheid policies. Many now argue that disbanding the Commandos without implementing an adequate replacement has left rural areas vulnerable to crime and violence.

Today, private security companies, local farm watch groups, and community radio networks fill the void left by the government’s police presence. Many farmers say they no longer expect protection from the state and have resigned themselves to finding ways to defend themselves.

A Way Forward

This is not just a human rights issue. South Africa’s future depends on its ability to feed its people. Without secure rural areas and thriving farming communities, the nation’s food security, economy, and social fabric are all at risk. This is not just a farmers’ issue; it is a national emergency.

What is urgently needed:

Despite the mounting evidence and growing crisis, the government remains in denial, willfully ignoring the scale of the violence and shirking its responsibility to protect all citizens. This indifference is not only dangerous; it is a betrayal of the very people it is meant to serve.

Stefan Tompson

Founder | Visegrad24

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