When President Cyril Ramaphosa announced the deployment of the South African National Defence Force to the provinces of Gauteng and the Western Cape in his 2026 State of the Nation Address, he was met with desperate applause by a crime-weary nation. This is largely due to police failure in almost every aspect of their duties in protecting citizens from crime and violence. Hence the call to bring in the army.
But my research in the field of armed forces and society suggests this “show of force” creates a dangerous moral hazard. If the army is always available to “stablise” a hot spot, there’s no pressure on the South African Police Service to root out corruption, improve intelligence-gathering and rebuild community trust.
All three are weak spots in the country’s police service, affecting their ability to deal with criminal and violent crime.
Gang violence – one of the areas the defence force has been called on to control – is the byproduct of systemic neglect such as unemployment, lack of infrastructure and poor education. As long as the structural violence (lack of jobs and infrastructure) and cultural violence (the need for gang identity) remain, the military can only provide a temporary “lid” on the violence. But constantly relying on the military when core governance and policing institutions fail places the country on a dangerous, remilitarised path where military solutions begin to dominate civilian life.
An extensive international comparative study which drew in experts from 26 different countries shows that domestic military use raises concerns about democratic backsliding and extra-judicial abuse of coercive power. It shows most countries avoid using the military internally for coercive law enforcement roles due to these concerns.
The façade of action
South Africans voice the same concerns, yet the South African National Defence Force has increasingly found itself deployed to “safeguard the nation”, which includes combating gang violence.
In the 2019 deployment to the Cape Flats, gang-affected neighbourhoods in Cape Town, the initial presence of troops saw a temporary dip in crime. In 2019, the situation in the Cape Flats was described as “war zone”. In the first six months of 2019 alone, over 1,800 murders were recorded in the Western Cape.
The intervention showed that the South African National Defence Force could stabilise and bring about a “negative peace” by temporarily stopping the shooting and violence, but this was not lasting. Once the troops withdrew, the murder rate surged back to – and in some areas exceeded – pre-deployment levels.
Similar trends have been found in countries such as Brazil, El Salvador and Mexico, where the army is deployed.
An initial visible drop is frequently short-lived. It’s also costly to civil liberties and prone to fragmenting criminal groups into even more violent factions.
Military trained for combat
While the president may order the South African National Defence Force to deploy and the generals can command them into “battle”, troops on the ground express major misgivings.
The views of soldiers were presented to the Joint Standing Committee on Defence in Parliament on 13 February 2026 in Cape Town. These were based on a soon-to-be-published study of the experiences of soldiers on external and internal deployments.
Their responses reveal a deep conflict.
Soldiers overwhelmingly said they believed that this was not what the South African National Defence Force was established for.
My research shows four major challenges.
Firstly, there is inherent conflict between military training and policing roles.
Soldiers are trained to use lethal force, not for the restraint, negotiation and minimum force required in civilian law enforcement.
Secondly, they also lack the necessary “minimum force” tools (body cameras, non-lethal restraints) necessary for urban operations. Instead, they’re equipped with assault rifles like the R4. In dense urban environments like the Cape Flats, using such a weapon creates a massive risk of collateral damage. A single bullet can travel through multiple shack walls or bystanders.
Thirdly, they haven’t been trained in the “soft skills” of policing, such as persuasion and de-escalation. The result is that soldiers often resort to intimidation to maintain control. In the absence of handcuffs or the legal power to process arrests, soldiers sometimes resort to “street justice”. For example, during the COVID-19 lockdown, the public witnessed soldiers forcing citizens to “frog jump” or do push-ups as punishment.
These incidents severely damaged the military’s professional reputation.
Fourth, the mandate and rules of engagement for soldiers are often limited. Criminals and “zama zamas” (illegal artisanal miners – the other area Ramaphosa listed for troop deployment) have morphed into criminal syndicates. These exploit the fact that soldiers are not legally empowered to shoot unless their lives are directly threatened.
This creates a “toothless tiger” effect where the military is present but unable to intervene in active property crimes or smuggling without risking murder charges.
Lastly, these deployments prevent the army from meeting its primary mandate: while soldiers are diverted to “gangbusting”, South Africa’s borders remain porous, allowing criminals and illegal immigrants to flow into the country. The South African Defence Force has few dedicated resources for domestic operations. It has to draw equipment and personnel from other units, which are needed elsewhere.
Currently, the defence force has only 15 companies to protect a land border approximately 4,470km long. This requires at least 22 companies.
In 2023, the president authorised some 3,300 soldiers to be deployed at an estimated cost of roughly R492 million (over US$30 million) against illegal mining across all provinces.
Troops are being used to guard holes in the ground, tying up elite infantry units in static guard duties, causing their primary combat skills to atrophy.
The way forward
If the state continues to use the military internally, the current “one-size-fits-all” combat model must be abandoned. The soldiers themselves suggest a need for a specialised, multi-role component, akin to Italy’s Carabiniere or the United States National Guard, trained specifically for internal security and non-lethal force. This requires a change in military doctrine and the core mandate of the South African National Defence Force.
What this implies is that the military must develop a specific Urban Constabulary Doctrine that integrates human rights frameworks and community-centric policing strategies into its training. This demands a doctrinal pivot. A revision in the military’s core mandate is essential to ensure that soldiers are trained in proportionality, de-escalation and civil-military cooperation, rather than purely kinetic combat operations.
Until then, the goal must be a “task-oriented” approach – intervene, contain, and exit. The details and timeframe of the latest deployment are yet to be confirmed. The military should be a temporary shield, not a permanent crutch for a failing police service. South Africa must stop asking its soldiers to be the police before they lose the pride and dignity that defines a professional army.
Lindy Heinecken does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
