JONATHAN ANNIPEN|Published
THERE are headlines that make us angry. There are others that leave us speechless.
A headline such as “GUILTY: Son knew what he was doing when he stabbed mother 27 times” (published in the POST, September 30 to October 4) forces us to confront a question that South Africa has wrestled with for decades: What punishment is appropriate for the most brutal crimes imaginable?
That question has become even more difficult to ignore as South Africa confronts another wave of horrific violence against women.
Since July, the bodies of 12 women have been found in Ekurhuleni. Their deaths have generated national outrage and fear, with investigations continuing into whether some of the cases may be connected. President Cyril Ramaphosa addressed the nation recently, describing the violence against women as a national shame and announcing further measures to combat gender-based violence and femicide (GBVF).
These are not merely numbers. They are mothers, daughters, sisters and friends. They are people whose families are now forced to live with grief and questions that may never disappear.
The wider figures are equally disturbing.
SAPS recorded 50 511 GBV and femicide-related cases during the first quarter of the 2026/27 financial year, with more than 30 000 resulting in arrests or referrals to the National Prosecuting Authority.
Against this background, South Africans are entitled to ask whether our criminal justice system is providing sufficient punishment, deterrence and protection.
One response increasingly heard in communities is the call for the reinstatement of the death penalty. Those who support capital punishment argue that certain crimes are so exceptionally brutal that life imprisonment does not adequately reflect the seriousness of the offence. They argue that society has a legitimate interest in protecting itself from perpetrators of extreme violence and that the punishment should reflect the permanent harm inflicted upon victims and their families.
The argument becomes particularly emotive when considering deliberate murders involving torture, repeated stabbing, rape, murder of children, multiple victims or killings committed with apparent knowledge of the consequences.
But there is another side to this debate that cannot simply be dismissed.
South Africa's Constitutional Court declared the death penalty unconstitutional in S v Makwanyane in 1995. The court placed particular weight on the constitutional rights to life and dignity and also considered the possibility of wrongful conviction and the absence of convincing evidence that execution would provide materially greater deterrence than life imprisonment.
That concern remains fundamental.
A prison sentence can be corrected when new evidence establishes that an innocent person was convicted. An execution cannot.
There is also a practical question: Would reinstating the death penalty actually reduce violent crime? The evidence needs to be examined carefully rather than assumed. South Africa's response to violent crime cannot rest on punishment alone. Effective policing, competent investigations, functioning courts, successful prosecutions, victim support and certainty of punishment are all part of the criminal justice equation.
The current crisis therefore demands more than slogans.
But neither should the public debate be closed by simply saying that the death penalty was declared unconstitutional more than three decades ago.
Our Constitution is a living legal framework, and its amendment mechanisms exist precisely because constitutional questions can be debated and changed through lawful democratic processes. An amendment affecting the Bill of Rights requires a two-thirds majority in the National Assembly and support from at least six provinces in the National Council of Provinces.
This is where a national conversation becomes important.
If South Africans are deeply divided on whether capital punishment should return, should the people themselves be given an opportunity to express their view through a national referendum?
The Constitution provides for the president to call a national referendum in terms of an Act of Parliament. A referendum, however, would not by itself erase the Constitutional Court's existing judgment or automatically reinstate capital punishment; any change would still have to comply with the Constitution's amendment framework and constitutional review.
That distinction matters.
The debate should therefore not be reduced to “Are you tough on crime?” It should be a serious national conversation about justice, human dignity, victims' rights, deterrence, wrongful convictions, constitutionalism and the protection of society.
South Africa cannot continue to bury women, children and other victims of violent crime while merely expressing outrage after each tragedy.
Nor should we pretend that one punishment will solve the country's crime crisis.
But neither should we be afraid to ask difficult questions.
When a court finds that someone deliberately took another human being's life through an act of extraordinary brutality, South Africans have the right to debate what the ultimate punishment should be.
Perhaps the most democratic response is not for politicians, judges or commentators to answer that question on behalf of everyone. Perhaps the time has come for South Africa to have a proper, evidence-based national debate - and to consider whether the electorate should ultimately be asked directly where it stands on capital punishment.
The victims deserve justice. The accused deserve due process. And society deserves a criminal justice system capable of protecting both.
The question is no longer whether South Africa can avoid the debate. The question is whether we are prepared to have it honestly.
Dr Jonathan Annipen is a councillor of the eThekwini Municipality for the IFP. He serves as the whip of the IFP in the finance committee.
** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or post.co.za